[Day the Sixth]
FRA CIPOLLA PROMISETH CERTAIN COUNTRY FOLK TO SHOW THEM ONE
OF THE ANGEL GABRIEL'S FEATHERS AND FINDING COALS IN PLACE
THEREOF, AVOUCHETH THESE LATTER TO BE OF THOSE WHICH ROASTED
ST. LAWRENCE
Each of the company being now quit of his[309] story, Dioneo perceived
that it rested with him to tell; whereupon, without awaiting more
formal commandment, he began on this wise, silence having first been
imposed on those who commended Guido's pregnant retort: "Charming
ladies, albeit I am privileged to speak of that which most liketh me,
I purpose not to-day to depart from the matter whereof you have all
very aptly spoken; but, ensuing in your footsteps, I mean to show you
how cunningly a friar of the order of St. Anthony, by name Fra
Cipolla, contrived with a sudden shift to extricate himself from a
snare[310] which had been set for him by two young men; nor should it
irk you if, for the complete telling of the story, I enlarge somewhat
in speaking, an you consider the sun, which is yet amiddleward in the
sky.
[Footnote 309: "Or her."]
[Footnote 310: Lit. to avoid or elude a scorn (_fuggire uno scorno_).]
Certaldo, as you may have heard, is a burgh of Val d' Elsa situate in
our country, which, small though it be, was once inhabited by
gentlemen and men of substance; and thither, for that he found good
pasture there, one of the friars of the order of St. Anthony was long
used to resort once a year, to get in the alms bestowed by simpletons
upon him and his brethren. His name was Fra Cipolla and he was gladly
seen there, no less belike, for his name's sake[311] than for other
reasons, seeing that these parts produce onions that are famous
throughout all Tuscany. This Fra Cipolla was little of person,
red-haired and merry of countenance, the jolliest rascal in the world,
and to boot, for all he was no scholar, he was so fine a talker and so
ready of wit that those who knew him not would not only have esteemed
him a great rhetorician, but had avouched him to be Tully himself or
may be Quintilian; and he was gossip or friend or well-wisher[312] to
well nigh every one in the country.
[Footnote 311: _Cipolla_ means onion.]
[Footnote 312: The term "well-wisher" (_benivogliente_), when
understood in relation to a woman, is generally equivalent (at least
with the older Italian writers) to "lover." See ante, passim.]
One August among others he betook himself thither according to his
wont, and on a Sunday morning, all the goodmen and goodwives of the
villages around being come to hear mass at the parish church, he came
forward, whenas it seemed to him time, and said, 'Gentlemen and
ladies, it is, as you know, your usance to send every year to the poor
of our lord Baron St. Anthony of your corn and of your oats, this
little and that much, according to his means and his devoutness, to
the intent that the blessed St. Anthony may keep watch over your
beeves and asses and swine and sheep; and besides this, you use to
pay, especially such of you as are inscribed into our company, that
small due which is payable once a year. To collect these I have been
sent by my superior, to wit, my lord abbot; wherefore, with the
blessing of God, you shall, after none, whenas you hear the bells
ring, come hither without the church, where I will make preachment to
you after the wonted fashion and you shall kiss the cross; moreover,
for that I know you all to be great devotees of our lord St. Anthony,
I will, as an especial favour show you a very holy and goodly relic,
which I myself brought aforetime from the holy lands beyond seas; and
that is one of the Angel Gabriel's feathers, which remained in the
Virgin Mary's chamber, whenas he came to announce to her in Nazareth.'
This said, he broke off and went on with his mass.
Now, when he said this, there were in the church, among many others,
two roguish young fellows, hight one Giovanni del Bragioniera and the
other Biagio Pizzini, who, after laughing with one another awhile over
Fra Cipolla's relic, took counsel together, for all they were great
friends and cronies of his, to play him some trick in the matter of
the feather in question. Accordingly, having learned that he was to
dine that morning with a friend of his in the burgh, they went down
into the street as soon as they knew him to be at table, and betook
themselves to the inn where he had alighted, purposing that Biagio
should hold his servant in parley, whilst Giovanni should search his
baggage for the feather aforesaid, whatever it might be, and carry it
off, to see what he should say to the people of the matter.
Fra Cipolla had a servant, whom some called Guccio[313] Balena,[314]
others Guccio Imbratta[315] and yet others Guccia Porco[316] and who
was such a scurvy knave that Lipo Topo[317] never wrought his like,
inasmuch as his master used oftentimes to jest of him with his cronies
and say, 'My servant hath in him nine defaults, such that, were one of
them in Solomon or Aristotle or Seneca, it would suffice to mar all
their worth, all their wit and all their sanctity. Consider, then,
what a man he must be, who hath all nine of them and in whom there is
neither worth nor wit nor sanctity.' Being questioned whiles what were
these nine defaults and having put them into doggerel rhyme, he would
answer, 'I will tell you. He's a liar, a sloven, a slugabed;
disobedient, neglectful, ill bred; o'erweening, foul-spoken, a
dunderhead; beside which he hath divers other peccadilloes, whereof it
booteth not to speak. But what is most laughable of all his fashions
is that, wherever he goeth, he is still for taking a wife and hiring a
house; for, having a big black greasy beard, him-seemeth he is so
exceeding handsome and agreeable that he conceiteth himself all the
women who see him fall in love with him, and if you let him alone, he
would run after them all till he lost his girdle.[318] Sooth to say,
he is of great assistance to me, for that none can ever seek to speak
with me so secretly but he must needs hear his share; and if it chance
that I be questioned of aught, he is so fearful lest I should not know
how to answer, that he straightway answereth for me both Ay and No, as
he judgeth sortable.'
[Footnote 313: Diminutive of contempt of Arrigo, contracted from
Arriguccio, _i.e._ mean little Arrigo.]
[Footnote 314: _i.e._ Whale.]
[Footnote 315: _i.e._ Dirt.]
[Footnote 316: _i.e._ Hog.]
[Footnote 317: A painter of Boccaccio's time, of whom little or
nothing seems to be known.]
[Footnote 318: _Perpendo lo coreggia._ The exact meaning of this
passage is not clear. The commentators make sundry random shots at it,
but, as usual, only succeed in making confusion worse confounded. It
may perhaps be rendered, "till his wind failed him."]
Now Fra Cipolla, in leaving him at the inn, had bidden him look well
that none touched his gear, and more particularly his saddle-bags, for
that therein were the sacred things. But Guccio, who was fonder of the
kitchen than the nightingale of the green boughs, especially if he
scented some serving-wench there, and who had seen in that of the inn
a gross fat cookmaid, undersized and ill-made, with a pair of paps
that showed like two manure-baskets and a face like a cadger's, all
sweaty, greasy and smoky, leaving Fra Cipolla's chamber and all his
gear to care for themselves, swooped down upon the kitchen, even as
the vulture swoopeth upon carrion, and seating himself by the fire,
for all it was August, entered into discourse with the wench in
question, whose name was Nuta, telling her that he was by rights a
gentleman and had more than nine millions of florins, beside that
which he had to give others, which was rather more than less, and that
he could do and say God only knew what. Moreover, without regard to
his bonnet, whereon was grease enough to have seasoned the caldron of
Altopascio,[319] and his doublet all torn and pieced and enamelled
with filth about the collar and under the armpits, with more spots and
patches of divers colours than ever had Turkey or India stuffs, and
his shoes all broken and hose unsewn, he told her, as he had been the
Sieur de Châtillon,[320] that he meant to clothe her and trick her out
anew and deliver her from the wretchedness of abiding with
others,[321] and bring her to hope of better fortune, if without any
great wealth in possession, and many other things, which, for all he
delivered them very earnestly, all turned to wind and came to nought,
as did most of his enterprises.
[Footnote 319: Said by the commentators to have been an abbey, where
they made cheese-soup for all comers twice a week; hence "the caldron
of Altopascio" became a proverb; but _quære_ is not the name
Altopascio (high feeding) a fancy one?]
[Footnote 320: It does not appear to which member of this great house
Boccaccio here alludes, but the Châtillons were always rich and
magnificent gentlemen, from Gaucher de Châtillon, who followed Philip
Augustus to the third crusade, to the great Admiral de Coligny.]
[Footnote 321: Sic (_star con altrui_); but "being in the service of
or dependent upon others" seems to be the probable meaning.]
The two young men, accordingly, found Guccio busy about Nuta, whereat
they were well pleased, for that it spared them half their pains, and
entering Fra Cipolla's chamber, which they found open, the first thing
that came under their examination was the saddle-bags wherein was the
feather. In these they found, enveloped in a great taffetas wrapper,
a little casket and opening this latter, discovered therein a parrot's
tail-feather, which they concluded must be that which the friar had
promised to show the people of Certaldo. And certes he might lightly
cause it to be believed in those days, for that the refinements of
Egypt had not yet made their way save into a small part of Tuscany, as
they have since done in very great abundance, to the undoing of all
Italy; and wherever they may have been some little known, in those
parts they were well nigh altogether unknown of the inhabitants; nay
the rude honesty of the ancients yet enduring there, not only had they
never set eyes on a parrot, but were far from having ever heard tell
of such a bird. The young men, then, rejoiced at finding the feather,
laid hands on it and not to leave the casket empty, filled it with
some coals they saw in a corner of the room and shut it again. Then,
putting all things in order as they had found them, they made off in
high glee with the feather, without having been seen, and began to
await what Fra Cipolli should say, when he found the coals in place
thereof.
The simple men and women who were in the church, hearing that they
were to see the Angel Gabriel's feather after none, returned home, as
soon as mass was over, and neighbor telling it to neighbor and gossip
to gossip, no sooner had they all dined than so many men and women
flocked to the burgh that it would scarce hold them, all looking
eagerly to see the aforesaid feather. Fra Cipolla, having well dined
and after slept awhile, arose a little after none and hearing of the
great multitude of country folk come to see the feather, sent to bid
Guccio Imbratta come thither with the bells and bring his saddle-bags.
Guccio, tearing himself with difficulty away from the kitchen and
Nuta, betook himself with the things required to the appointed place,
whither coming, out of breath, for that the water he had drunken had
made his belly swell amain, he repaired, by his master's commandment,
to the church door and fell to ringing the bells lustily.
When all the people were assembled there, Fra Cipolla, without
observing that aught of his had been meddled with, began his
preachment and said many words anent his affairs; after which,
thinking to come to the showing of the Angel Gabriel's feather, he
first recited the Confiteor with the utmost solemnity and let kindle a
pair of flambeaux; then, pulling off his bonnet, he delicately
unfolded the taffetas wrapper and brought out the casket. Having first
pronounced certain ejaculations in praise and commendation of the
Angel Gabriel and of his relic, he opened the casket and seeing it
full of coals, suspected not Guccio Balena of having played him this
trick, for that he knew him not to be man enough; nor did he curse him
for having kept ill watch lest others should do it, but silently
cursed himself for having committed to him the care of his gear,
knowing him, as he did, to be negligent, disobedient, careless and
forgetful.
Nevertheless, without changing colour, he raised his eyes and hands to
heaven and said, so as to be heard of all, 'O God, praised be still
thy puissance!' Then, shutting the casket and turning to the people,
'Gentlemen and ladies,' quoth he, 'you must know that, whilst I was
yet very young, I was dispatched by my superior to those parts where
the sun riseth and it was expressly commanded me that I should seek
till I found the Privileges of Porcellana, which, though they cost
nothing to seal, are much more useful to others than to us. On this
errand I set out from Venice and passed through Borgo de' Greci,[322]
whence, riding through the kingdom of Algarve and Baldacca,[323] I
came to Parione,[324] and from there, not without thirst, I came after
awhile into Sardinia. But what booteth it to set out to you in detail
all the lands explored by me? Passing the straits of San Giorgio,[325]
I came into Truffia[326] and Buffia,[327] countries much inhabited and
with great populations, and thence into the land of Menzogna,[328]
where I found great plenty of our brethren and of friars of other
religious orders, who all went about those parts, shunning unease for
the love of God, recking little of others' travail, whenas they saw
their own advantage to ensue, and spending none other money than such
as was uncoined.[329] Thence I passed into the land of the Abruzzi,
where the men and women go in clogs over the mountains, clothing the
swine in their own guts;[330] and a little farther I found folk who
carried bread on sticks and wine in bags. From this I came to the
Mountains of the Bachi, where all the waters run down hill; and in
brief, I made my way so far inward that I won at last even to India
Pastinaca,[331] where I swear to you, by the habit I wear on my back,
that I saw hedge-bills[332] fly, a thing incredible to whoso hath not
seen it. But of this Maso del Saggio will confirm me, whom I found
there a great merchant, cracking walnuts and selling the shells by
retail.
[Footnote 322: Apparently the Neapolitan town of that name.]
[Footnote 323: The name of a famous tavern in Florence (_Florio_).]
[Footnote 324: _Quære_ a place in Florence? One of the commentators,
with characteristic carelessness, states that the places mentioned in
the preachment of Fra Cipolla (an amusing specimen of the
patter-sermon of the mendicant friar of the middle ages, that
ecclesiastical Cheap Jack of his day) are all names of streets or
places of Florence, a statement which, it is evident to the most
cursory reader, is altogether inaccurate.]
[Footnote 325: Apparently the island of that name near Venice.]
[Footnote 326: _i.e._ Nonsense-land.]
[Footnote 327: _i.e._ Land of Tricks or Cozenage.]
[Footnote 328: _i.e._ Falsehood, Lie-land.]
[Footnote 329: _i.e._ paying their way with fine words, instead of
coin.]
[Footnote 330: _i.e._ making sausages of them.]
[Footnote 331: _Bachi_, drones or maggots. _Pastinaca_ means "parsnip"
and is a meaningless addition of Fra Cipolla's fashion.]
[Footnote 332: A play of words upon the primary meaning (winged
things) of the word _pennate_, hedge-bills.]
Being unable to find that which I went seeking, for that thence one
goeth thither by water, I turned back and arrived in those holy
countries, where, in summer-years, cold bread is worth four farthings
a loaf and the hot goeth for nothing. There I found the venerable
father my lord Blamemenot Anitpleaseyou, the very worshipful Patriarch
of Jerusalem, who, for reverence of the habit I have still worn of my
lord Baron St. Anthony, would have me see all the holy relics that he
had about him and which were so many that, an I sought to recount
them all to you, I should not come to an end thereof in several miles.
However, not to leave you disconsolate, I will tell you some thereof.
First, he showed me the finger of the Holy Ghost, as whole and sound
as ever it was, and the forelock of the seraph that appeared to St.
Francis and one of the nails of the Cherubim and one of the ribs of
the Verbum Caro[333] Get-thee-to-the-windows and some of the vestments
of the Holy Catholic Faith and divers rays of the star that appeared
to the Three Wise Men in the East and a vial of the sweat of St.
Michael, whenas he fought with the devil, and the jawbone of the death
of St. Lazarus and others. And for that I made him a free gift of the
Steeps[334] of Monte Morello in the vernacular and of some chapters of
the Caprezio,[335] which he had long gone seeking, he made me a sharer
in his holy relics and gave me one of the teeth of the Holy Rood and
somewhat of the sound of the bells of Solomon's Temple in a vial and
the feather of the Angel Gabriel, whereof I have already bespoken you,
and one of the pattens of St. Gherardo da Villa Magna, which not long
since at Florence I gave to Gherardo di Bonsi, who hath a particular
devotion for that saint; and he gave me also of the coals wherewith
the most blessed martyr St. Lawrence was roasted; all which things I
devoutly brought home with me and yet have. True it is that my
superior hath never suffered me to show them till such time as he
should be certified if they were the very things or not. But now that,
by certain miracles performed by them and by letters received from the
patriarch, he hath been made certain of this, he hath granted me leave
to show them; and I, fearing to trust them to others, still carry them
with me.
[Footnote 333: _i.e._ The Word [made] flesh. Get-thee-to-the-windows
is only a patter tag.]
[Footnote 334: Or Slopes or Coasts (_piaggie_).]
[Footnote 335: ?]
Now I carry the Angel Gabriel's feather, so it may not be marred, in
one casket, and the coals wherewith St. Lawrence was roasted in
another, the which are so like one to other, that it hath often
happened to me to take one for the other, and so hath it betided me at
this present, for that, thinking to bring hither the casket wherein
was the feather, I have brought that wherein are the coals. The which
I hold not to have been an error; nay, meseemeth certain that it was
God's will and that He Himself placed the casket with the coals in my
hands, especially now I mind me that the feast of St. Lawrence is but
two days hence; wherefore God, willing that, by showing you the coals
wherewith he was roasted, I should rekindle in your hearts the
devotion it behoveth you have for him, caused me take, not the
feather, as I purposed, but the blessed coals extinguished by the
sweat of that most holy body. So, O my blessed children, put off your
bonnets and draw near devoutly to behold them; but first I would have
you knew that whoso is scored with these coals, in the form of the
sign of the cross, may rest assured, for the whole year to come, that
fire shall not touch him but he shall feel it.'
Having thus spoken, he opened the casket, chanting the while a
canticle in praise of St. Lawrence, and showed the coals, which after
the simple multitude had awhile beheld with reverent admiration, they
all crowded about Fra Cipolla and making him better offerings than
they were used, besought him to touch them withal. Accordingly, taking
the coals in hand, he fell to making the biggest crosses for which he
could find room upon their white smocks and doublets and upon the
veils of the women, avouching that how much soever the coals
diminished in making these crosses, they after grew again in the
casket, as he had many a time proved. On this wise he crossed all the
people of Certaldo, to his no small profit, and thus, by his ready wit
and presence of mind, he baffled those who, by taking the feather from
him, had thought to baffle him and who, being present at his
preachment and hearing the rare shift employed by him and from how far
he had taken it and with what words, had so laughed that they thought
to have cracked their jaws. Then, after the common folk had departed,
they went up to him and with all the mirth in the world discovered to
him that which they had done and after restored him his feather, which
next year stood him in as good stead as the coals had done that day."
* * * * *
This story afforded unto all the company alike the utmost pleasure and
solace, and it was much laughed of all at Fra Cipolla, and
particularly of his pilgrimage and the relics seen and brought back by
him. The queen, seeing the story and likewise her sovantry at an end,
rose to her feet and put off the crown, which she set laughingly on
Dioneo's head, saying, "It is time, Dioneo, that thou prove awhile
what manner charge it is to have ladies to govern and guide; be thou,
then, king and rule on such wise that, in the end, we may have reason
to give ourselves joy of thy governance." Dioneo took the crown and
answered, laughing, "You may often enough have seen much better kings
than I, I mean chess-kings; but, an you obey me as a king should in
truth be obeyed, I will cause you enjoy that without which assuredly
no entertainment is ever complete in its gladness. But let that talk
be; I will rule as best I know."
Then, sending for the seneschal, according to the wonted usance, he
orderly enjoined him of that which he should do during the continuance
of his seignory and after said, "Noble ladies, it hath in divers
manners been devised of human industry[336] and of the various chances
[of fortune,] insomuch that, had not Dame Licisca come hither a while
agone and found me matter with her prate for our morrow's relations, I
misdoubt me I should have been long at pains to find a subject of
discourse. As you heard, she avouched that she had not a single gossip
who had come to her husband a maid and added that she knew right well
how many and what manner tricks married women yet played their
husbands. But, letting be the first part, which is a childish matter,
methinketh the second should be an agreeable subject for discourse;
wherefore I will and ordain it that, since Licisca hath given us
occasion therefor, it be discoursed to-morrow OF THE TRICKS WHICH, OR
FOR LOVE OR FOR THEIR OWN PRESERVATION, WOMEN HAVE HERETOFORE PLAYED
THEIR HUSBANDS, WITH OR WITHOUT THE LATTER'S COGNIZANCE THEREOF."
[Footnote 336: _Industria_ in the old sense of ingenuity, skilful
procurement, etc.]
It seemed to some of the ladies that to discourse of such a matter
would ill beseem them and they prayed him, therefore, to change the
theme proposed; wherefore answered he, "Ladies, I am no less cognizant
than yourselves of that which I have ordained, and that which you
would fain allege to me availed not to deter me from ordaining it,
considering that the times are such that, provided men and women are
careful to eschew unseemly actions, all liberty of discourse is
permitted. Know you not that, for the malignity of the season, the
judges have forsaken the tribunals, that the laws, as well Divine as
human, are silent and full licence is conceded unto every one for the
preservation of his life? Wherefore, if your modesty allow itself some
little freedom in discourse, not with intent to ensue it with aught of
unseemly in deeds, but to afford yourselves and others diversion, I
see not with what plausible reason any can blame you in the future.
Moreover, your company, from the first day of our assembling until
this present, hath been most decorous, nor, for aught that hath been
said here, doth it appear to me that its honour hath anywise been
sullied. Again, who is there knoweth not your virtue? Which, not to
say mirthful discourse, but even fear of death I do not believe could
avail to shake. And to tell you the truth, whosoever should hear that
you shrank from devising bytimes of these toys would be apt to suspect
that you were guilty in the matter and were therefore unwilling to
discourse thereof. To say nothing of the fine honour you would do me
in that, I having been obedient unto all, you now, having made me your
king, seek to lay down the law to me, and not to discourse of the
subject which I propose. Put off, then, this misdoubtance, apter to
mean minds than to yours, and good luck to you, let each of you
bethink herself of some goodly story to tell." When the ladies heard
this, they said it should be as he pleased; whereupon he gave them all
leave to do their several pleasures until supper-time.
The sun was yet high, for that the discoursement[337] had been brief;
wherefor Dioneo having addressed himself to play at tables with the
other young men, Elisa called the other ladies apart and said to them,
"Since we have been here, I have still wished to carry you to a place
very near at hand, whither methinketh none of you hath ever been and
which is called the Ladies' Valley, but have never yet found an
occasion of bringing you thither unto to-day; wherefore, as the sun is
yet high, I doubt not but, an it please you come thither, you will be
exceeding well pleased to have been there." They answered that they
were ready and calling one of their maids, set out upon their way,
without letting the young men know aught thereof; nor had they gone
much more than a mile, when they came to the Ladies' Valley. They
entered therein by a very strait way, on one side whereof ran a very
clear streamlet, and saw it as fair and as delectable, especially at
that season whenas the heat was great, as most might be conceived.
According to that which one of them after told me, the plain that was
in the valley was as round as if it had been traced with the compass,
albeit it seemed the work of nature and not of art, and was in circuit
a little more than half a mile, encompassed about with six little
hills not over-high, on the summit of each of which stood a palace
builded in guise of a goodly castle. The sides of these hills went
sloping gradually downward to the plain on such wise as we see in
amphitheatres, the degrees descend in ordered succession from the
highest to the lowest, still contracting their circuit; and of these
slopes those which looked toward the south were all full of vines and
olives and almonds and cherries and figs and many another kind of
fruit-bearing trees, without a span thereof being wasted; whilst those
which faced the North Star[338] were all covered with thickets of
dwarf oaks and ashes and other trees as green and straight as might
be. The middle plain, which had no other inlet than that whereby the
ladies were come thither, was full of firs and cypresses and laurels
and various sorts of pines, as well arrayed and ordered as if the best
artist in that kind had planted them; and between these little or no
sun, even at its highest, made its way to the ground, which was all
one meadow of very fine grass, thick-sown with flowers purpurine and
others. Moreover, that which afforded no less delight than otherwhat
was a little stream, which ran down from a valley that divided two of
the hills aforesaid and falling over cliffs of live rock, made a
murmur very delectable to hear, what while it showed from afar, as it
broke over the stones, like so much quicksilver jetting out, under
pressure of somewhat, into fine spray. As it came down into the little
plain, it was there received into a fair channel and ran very swiftly
into the middest thereof, where it formed a lakelet, such as the
townsfolk made whiles, by way of fishpond, in their gardens, whenas
they have a commodity thereof. This lakelet was no deeper than a man's
stature, breast high, and its waters being exceeding clear and
altogether untroubled with any admixture, it showed its bottom to be
of a very fine gravel, the grains whereof whoso had nought else to do
might, an he would, have availed to number; nor, looking into the
water, was the bottom alone to be seen, nay, but so many fish fleeting
hither and thither that, over and above the pleasure thereof, it was a
marvel to behold; nor was it enclosed with other banks than the very
soil of the meadow, which was the goodlier thereabout in so much as it
received the more of its moisture. The water that abounded over and
above the capacity of the lake was received into another channel,
whereby, issuing forth of the little valley, it ran off into the lower
parts.
[Footnote 337: _i.e._ the tale-telling.]
[Footnote 338: Lit. the northern chariot (_carro di tramontana_);
_quære_ the Great Bear?]
Hither then came the young ladies and after they had gazed all about
and much commended the place, they took counsel together to bathe, for
that the heat was great and that they saw the lakelet before them and
were in no fear of being seen. Accordingly, bidding their serving
maid abide over against the way whereby one entered there and look if
any should come and give them notice thereof, they stripped themselves
naked, all seven, and entered the lake, which hid their white bodies
no otherwise than as a thin glass would do with a vermeil rose. Then,
they being therein and no troubling of the water ensuing thereof, they
fell, as best they might, to faring hither and thither in pursuit of
the fish, which had uneath where to hide themselves, and seeking to
take them with the naked hand. After they had abidden awhile in such
joyous pastime and had taken some of the fish, they came forth of the
lakelet and clad themselves anew. Then, unable to commend the place
more than they had already done and themseeming time to turn homeward,
they set out, with soft step, upon their way, discoursing much of the
goodliness of the valley.
They reached the palace betimes and there found the young men yet at
play where they had left them; to whom quoth Pampinea, laughing. "We
have e'en stolen a march on you to-day." "How?" asked Dioneo. "Do you
begin to do deeds ere you come to say words?"[339] "Ay, my lord,"
answered she and related to him at large whence they came and how the
place was fashioned and how far distant thence and that which they had
done. The king, hearing tell of the goodliness of the place and
desirous of seeing it, caused straightway order the supper, which
being dispatched to the general satisfaction, the three young men,
leaving the ladies, betook themselves with their servants to the
valley and having viewed it in every part, for that none of them had
ever been there before, extolled it for one of the goodliest things in
the world. Then, for that it grew late, after they had bathed and
donned their clothes, they returned home, where they found the ladies
dancing a round, to the accompaniment of a song sung by Fiammetta.
[Footnote 339: Alluding to the subject fixed for the next day's
discourse, as who should say, "Have you begun already to play tricks
upon us men in very deed, ere you tell about them in words?"]
The dance ended, they entered with them into a discourse of the
Ladies' Valley and said much in praise and commendation thereof.
Moreover, the king, sending for the seneschal, bade him look that the
dinner be made ready there on the following morning and have sundry
beds carried thither, in case any should have a mind to lie or sleep
there for nooning; after which he let bring lights and wine and
confections and the company having somedele refreshed themselves, he
commanded that all should address themselves to dancing. Then, Pamfilo
having, at his commandment, set up a dance, the king turned to Elisa
and said courteously to her, "Fair damsel, thou has to-day done me the
honour of the crown and I purpose this evening to do thee that of the
song; wherefore look thou sing such an one as most liketh thee." Elisa
answered, smiling, that she would well and with dulcet voice began on
this wise:
Love, from thy clutches could I but win free,
Hardly, methinks, again
Shall any other hook take hold on me.
I entered in thy wars a youngling maid,
Thinking thy strife was utmost peace and sweet,
And all my weapons on the ground I laid,
As one secure, undoubting of defeat;
But thou, false tyrant, with rapacious heat,
Didst fall on me amain
With all the grapnels of thine armoury.
Then, wound about and fettered with thy chains,
To him, who for my death in evil hour
Was born, thou gav'st me, bounden, full of pains
And bitter tears; and syne within his power
He hath me and his rule's so harsh and dour
No sighs can move the swain
Nor all my wasting plaints to set me free.
My prayers, the wild winds bear them all away;
He hearkeneth unto none and none will hear;
Wherefore each hour my torment waxeth aye;
I cannot die, albeit life irks me drear.
Ah, Lord, have pity on my heavy cheer;
Do that I seek in vain
And give him bounden in thy chains to me.
An this thou wilt not, at the least undo
The bonds erewhen of hope that knitted were;
Alack, O Lord, thereof to thee I sue,
For, an thou do it, yet to waxen fair
Again I trust, as was my use whilere,
And being quit of pain
Myself with white flowers and with red besee.
Elisa ended her song with a very plaintive sigh, and albeit all
marvelled at the words thereof, yet was there none who might conceive
what it was that caused her sing thus. But the king, who was in a
merry mood, calling for Tindaro, bade him bring out his bagpipes, to
the sound whereof he let dance many dances; after which, a great part
of the night being now past, he bade each go sleep.
HERE ENDETH THE SIXTH DAY
OF THE DECAMERON
_Day the Seventh_
HERE BEGINNETH THE SEVENTH DAY OF THE DECAMERON WHEREIN
UNDER THE GOVERNANCE OF DIONEO IS DISCOURSED OF THE TRICKS
WHICH OR FOR LOVE OR FOR THEIR OWN PRESERVATION WOMEN HAVE
HERETOFORE PLAYED THEIR HUSBANDS WITH OR WITHOUT THE
LATTER'S COGNIZANCE THEREOF
Every star was already fled from the parts of the East, save only that
which we style Lucifer and which shone yet in the whitening dawn, when
the seneschal, arising, betook himself, with a great baggage-train, to
the Ladies' Valley, there to order everything, according to
commandment had of his lord. The king, whom the noise of the packers
and of the beasts had awakened, tarried not long after his departure
to rise and being risen, caused arouse all the ladies and likewise the
young men; nor had the rays of the sun yet well broken forth, when
they all entered upon the road. Never yet had the nightingales and the
other birds seemed to them to sing so blithely as they did that
morning, what while, accompanied by their carols, they repaired to the
Ladies' Valley, where they were received by many more, which seemed to
them to make merry for their coming. There, going round about the
place and reviewing it all anew, it appeared to them so much fairer
than on the foregoing day as the season of the day was more sorted to
its goodliness. Then, after they had broken their fast with good wine
and confections, not to be behindhand with the birds in the matter of
song, they fell a-singing and the valley with them, still echoing
those same songs which they did sing, whereto all the birds, as if
they would not be outdone, added new and dulcet notes. Presently, the
dinner-hour being come and the tables spread hard by the fair lakelet
under the thickset laurels and other goodly trees, they seated
themselves there, as it pleased the king, and eating, watched the fish
swim in vast shoals about the lake, which gave bytimes occasion for
talk as well as observation. When they had made an end of dining and
the meats and tables were removed, they fell anew to singing more
blithely than ever; after which, beds having been spread in various
places about the little valley and all enclosed about by the discreet
seneschal with curtains and canopies of French serge, whoso would
might with the king's permission, go sleep; whilst those who had no
mind to sleep might at their will take pleasure of their other wonted
pastimes. But, after awhile, all being now arisen and the hour come
when they should assemble together for story-telling, carpets were, at
the king's commandment, spread upon the grass, not far from the place
where they had eaten, and all having seated themselves thereon hard by
the lake, the king bade Emilia begin; whereupon she blithely proceeded
to speak, smiling, thus: