[Day the Fifth]
FEDERIGO DEGLI ALBERIGHI LOVETH AND IS NOT LOVED. HE WASTETH
HIS SUBSTANCE IN PRODIGAL HOSPITALITY TILL THERE IS LEFT HIM
BUT ONE SOLE FALCON, WHICH, HAVING NOUGHT ELSE, HE GIVETH
HIS MISTRESS TO EAT, ON HER COMING TO HIS HOUSE; AND SHE,
LEARNING THIS, CHANGETH HER MIND AND TAKING HIM TO HUSBAND,
MAKETH HIM RICH AGAIN
Filomena having ceased speaking, the queen, seeing that none remained
to tell save only herself and Dioneo, whose privilege entitled him to
speak last, said, with blithe aspect, "It pertaineth now to me to tell
and I, dearest ladies, will willingly do it, relating a story like in
part to the foregoing, to the intent that not only may you know how
much the love of you[285] can avail in gentle hearts, but that you may
learn to be yourselves, whenas it behoveth, bestowers of your
guerdons, without always suffering fortune to be your guide, which
most times, as it chanceth, giveth not discreetly, but out of all
measure.
[Footnote 285: Syn. your charms (_la vostra vaghezza_).]
You must know, then, that Coppo di Borghese Domenichi, who was of our
days and maybe is yet a man of great worship and authority in our city
and illustrious and worthy of eternal renown, much more for his
fashions and his merit than for the nobility of his blood, being grown
full of years, delighted oftentimes to discourse with his neighbours
and others of things past, the which he knew how to do better and more
orderly and with more memory and elegance of speech than any other
man. Amongst other fine things of his, he was used to tell that there
was once in Florence a young man called Federigo, son of Messer
Filippo Alberighi and renowned for deeds of arms and courtesy over
every other bachelor in Tuscany, who, as betideth most gentlemen,
became enamoured of a gentlewoman named Madam Giovanna, in her day
held one of the fairest and sprightliest ladies that were in Florence;
and to win her love, he held jousts and tourneyings and made
entertainments and gave gifts and spent his substance without any
stint; but she, being no less virtuous than fair, recked nought of
these things done for her nor of him who did them. Federigo spending
thus far beyond his means and gaining nought, his wealth, as lightly
happeneth, in course of time came to an end and he abode poor, nor
was aught left him but a poor little farm, on whose returns he lived
very meagrely, and to boot a falcon he had, one of the best in the
world. Wherefore, being more in love than ever and himseeming he might
no longer make such a figure in the city as he would fain do, he took
up his abode at Campi, where his farm was, and there bore his poverty
with patience, hawking whenas he might and asking of no one.
Federigo being thus come to extremity, it befell one day that Madam
Giovanna's husband fell sick and seeing himself nigh upon death, made
his will, wherein, being very rich, he left a son of his, now well
grown, his heir, after which, having much loved Madam Giovanna, he
substituted her to his heir, in case his son should die without lawful
issue, and died. Madam Giovanna, being thus left a widow, betook
herself that summer, as is the usance of our ladies, into the country
with her son to an estate of hers very near that of Federigo;
wherefore it befell that the lad made acquaintance with the latter and
began to take delight in hawks and hounds, and having many a time seen
his falcon flown and being strangely taken therewith, longed sore to
have it, but dared not ask it of him, seeing it so dear to him. The
thing standing thus, it came to pass that the lad fell sick, whereat
his mother was sore concerned, as one who had none but him and loved
him with all her might, and abode about him all day, comforting him
without cease; and many a time she asked him if there were aught he
desired, beseeching him tell it her, for an it might be gotten, she
would contrive that he should have it. The lad, having heard these
offers many times repeated, said, 'Mother mine, an you could procure
me to have Federigo's falcon, methinketh I should soon be whole.'
The lady hearing this, bethought herself awhile and began to consider
how she should do. She knew that Federigo had long loved her and had
never gotten of her so much as a glance of the eye; wherefore quoth
she in herself, 'How shall I send or go to him to seek of him this
falcon, which is, by all I hear, the best that ever flew and which, to
boot, maintaineth him in the world? And how can I be so graceless as
to offer to take this from a gentleman who hath none other pleasure
left?' Perplexed with this thought and knowing not what to say, for
all she was very certain of getting the bird, if she asked for it, she
made no reply to her son, but abode silent. However, at last, the love
of her son so got the better of her that she resolved in herself to
satisfy him, come what might, and not to send, but to go herself for
the falcon and fetch it to him. Accordingly she said to him, 'My son,
take comfort and bethink thyself to grow well again, for I promise
thee that the first thing I do to-morrow morning I will go for it and
fetch it to thee.' The boy was rejoiced at this and showed some
amendment that same day.
Next morning, the lady, taking another lady to bear her company,
repaired, by way of diversion, to Federigo's little house and enquired
for the latter, who, for that it was no weather for hawking nor had
been for some days past, was then in a garden he had, overlooking the
doing of certain little matters of his, and hearing that Madam
Giovanna asked for him at the door, ran thither, rejoicing and
marvelling exceedingly. She, seeing him come, rose and going with
womanly graciousness to meet him, answered his respectful salutation
with 'Give you good day, Federigo!' then went on to say, 'I am come to
make thee amends for that which thou hast suffered through me, in
loving me more than should have behooved thee; and the amends in
question is this that I purpose to dine with thee this morning
familiarly, I and this lady my companion.' 'Madam,' answered Federigo
humbly, 'I remember me not to have ever received any ill at your
hands, but on the contrary so much good that, if ever I was worth
aught, it came about through your worth and the love I bore you; and
assuredly, albeit you have come to a poor host, this your gracious
visit is far more precious to me than it would be an it were given me
to spend over again as much as that which I have spent aforetime.' So
saying, he shamefastly received her into his house and thence brought
her into his garden, where, having none else to bear her company, he
said to her, 'Madam, since there is none else here, this good woman,
wife of yonder husbandman, will bear you company, whilst I go see the
table laid.'
Never till that moment, extreme as was his poverty, had he been so
dolorously sensible of the straits to which he had brought himself for
the lack of those riches he had spent on such disorderly wise. But
that morning, finding he had nothing wherewithal he might honourably
entertain the lady, for love of whom he had aforetime entertained folk
without number, he was made perforce aware of his default and ran
hither and thither, perplexed beyond measure, like a man beside
himself, inwardly cursing his ill fortune, but found neither money nor
aught he might pawn. It was now growing late and he having a great
desire to entertain the gentle lady with somewhat, yet choosing not to
have recourse to his own labourer, much less any one else, his eye
fell on his good falcon, which he saw on his perch in his little
saloon; whereupon, having no other resource, he took the bird and
finding him fat, deemed him a dish worthy of such a lady. Accordingly,
without more ado, he wrung the hawk's neck and hastily caused a little
maid of his pluck it and truss it and after put it on the spit and
roast it diligently. Then, the table laid and covered with very white
cloths, whereof he had yet some store, he returned with a blithe
countenance to the lady in the garden and told her that dinner was
ready, such as it was in his power to provide. Accordingly, the lady
and her friend, arising, betook themselves to table and in company
with Federigo, who served them with the utmost diligence, ate the good
falcon, unknowing what they did.
Presently, after they had risen from table and had abidden with him
awhile in cheerful discourse, the lady, thinking it time to tell that
wherefor she was come, turned to Federigo and courteously bespoke him,
saying, 'Federigo, I doubt not a jot but that, when thou hearest that
which is the especial occasion of my coming hither, thou wilt marvel
at my presumption, remembering thee of thy past life and of my virtue,
which latter belike thou reputedst cruelty and hardness of heart;
but, if thou hadst or hadst had children, by whom thou mightest know
how potent is the love one beareth them, meseemeth certain that thou
wouldst in part hold me excused. But, although thou hast none, I, who
have one child, cannot therefore escape the common laws to which other
mothers are subject and whose enforcements it behoveth me ensue, need
must I, against my will and contrary to all right and seemliness, ask
of thee a boon, which I know is supremely dear to thee (and that with
good reason, for that thy sorry fortune hath left thee none other
delight, none other diversion, none other solace), to wit, thy falcon,
whereof my boy is so sore enamoured that, an I carry it not to him, I
fear me his present disorder will be so aggravated that there may
presently ensue thereof somewhat whereby I shall lose him. Wherefore I
conjure thee,--not by the love thou bearest me and whereto thou art
nowise beholden, but by thine own nobility, which in doing courtesy
hath approved itself greater than in any other,--that it please thee
give it to me, so by the gift I may say I have kept my son alive and
thus made him for ever thy debtor.'
Federigo, hearing what the lady asked and knowing that he could not
oblige her, for that he had given her the falcon to eat, fell
a-weeping in her presence, ere he could answer a word. The lady at
first believed that his tears arose from grief at having to part from
his good falcon and was like to say that she would not have it.
However, she contained herself and awaited what Federigo should reply,
who, after weeping awhile, made answer thus: 'Madam, since it pleased
God that I should set my love on you, I have in many things reputed
fortune contrary to me and have complained of her; but all the ill
turns she hath done me have been a light matter in comparison with
that which she doth me at this present and for which I can never more
be reconciled to her, considering that you are come hither to my poor
house, whereas you deigned not to come what while I was rich, and seek
of me a little boon, the which she hath so wrought that I cannot grant
you; and why this cannot be I will tell you briefly. When I heard that
you, of your favour, were minded to dine with me, I deemed it a light
thing and a seemly, having regard to your worth and the nobility of
your station, to honour you, as far as in me lay, with some choicer
victual than that which is commonly set before other folk; wherefore,
remembering me of the falcon which you ask of me and of his
excellence, I judged him a dish worthy of you. This very morning,
then, you have had him roasted upon the trencher, and indeed I had
accounted him excellently well bestowed; but now, seeing that you
would fain have had him on other wise, it is so great a grief to me
that I cannot oblige you therein that methinketh I shall never forgive
myself therefor.' So saying, in witness of this, he let cast before
her the falcon's feathers and feet and beak.
The lady, seeing and hearing this, first blamed him for having, to
give a woman to eat, slain such a falcon, and after inwardly much
commended the greatness of his soul, which poverty had not availed nor
might anywise avail to abate. Then, being put out of all hope of
having the falcon and fallen therefore in doubt of her son's recovery,
she took her leave and returned, all disconsolate, to the latter,
who, before many days had passed, whether for chagrin that he could
not have the bird or for that his disorder was e'en fated to bring him
to that pass, departed this life, to the inexpressible grief of his
mother. After she had abidden awhile full of tears and affliction,
being left very rich and yet young, she was more than once urged by
her brothers to marry again, and albeit she would fain not have done
so, yet, finding herself importuned and calling to mind Federigo's
worth and his last magnificence, to wit, the having slain such a
falcon for her entertainment, she said to them, 'I would gladly, an it
liked you, abide as I am; but, since it is your pleasure that I take a
[second] husband, certes I will never take any other, an I have not
Federigo degli Alberighi.' Whereupon her brothers, making mock of her,
said 'Silly woman that thou art, what is this thou sayest? How canst
thou choose him, seeing he hath nothing in the world?' 'Brothers
mine,' answered she, 'I know very well that it is as you say; but I
would liefer have a man that lacketh of riches than riches that lack
of a man.' Her brethren, hearing her mind and knowing Federigo for a
man of great merit, poor though he was, gave her, with all her wealth,
to him, even as she would; and he, seeing himself married to a lady of
such worth and one whom he had loved so dear and exceeding rich, to
boot, became a better husband of his substance and ended his days with
her in joy and solace."