[Day the Seventh]
FRA RINALDO LIETH WITH HIS GOSSIP AND BEING FOUND OF HER
HUSBAND CLOSETED WITH HER IN HER CHAMBER, THEY GIVE HIM TO
BELIEVE THAT HE WAS IN ACT TO CONJURE WORMS FROM HIS GODSON
Filostrato had not known to speak so obscurely of the mares of Parthia
but that the roguish ladies laughed thereat, making believe to laugh
at otherwhat. But, when the king saw that his story was ended, he bade
Elisa tell, who accordingly, with obedient readiness, began, "Charming
ladies, Emilia's conjuration of the phantom hath brought to my memory
the story of another conjuration, which latter, though it be not so
goodly as hers, nevertheless, for that none other bearing upon our
subject occurreth to me at this present, I will proceed to relate.
You must know that there was once in Siena a very agreeable young man
and of a worshipful family, by name Rinaldo, who was passionately
enamored of a very beautiful lady, a neighbour of his and the wife of
a rich man, and flattered himself that, could he but find means to
speak with her unsuspected, he might avail to have of her all that he
should desire. Seeing none other way and the lady being great with
child, he bethought himself to become her gossip and accordingly,
clapping up an acquaintance with her husband, he offered him, on such
wise as appeared to him most seemly, to be godfather to his child. His
offer was accepted and he being now become Madam Agnesa's gossip and
having a somewhat more colourable excuse for speaking with her, he
took courage and gave her in so many words to know that of his intent
which she had indeed long before gathered from his looks; but little
did this profit him, although the lady was nothing displeased to have
heard him.
Not long after, whatever might have been the reason, it came to pass
that Rinaldo turned friar and whether or not he found the pasturage to
his liking, he persevered in that way of life; and albeit, in the days
of his becoming a monk, he had for awhile laid on one side the love he
bore his gossip, together with sundry other vanities of his, yet, in
process of time, without quitting the monk's habit, he resumed
them[345] and began to delight in making a show and wearing fine
stuffs and being dainty and elegant in all his fashions and making
canzonets and sonnets and ballads and in singing and all manner other
things of the like sort. But what say I of our Fra Rinaldo, of whom we
speak? What monks are there that do not thus? Alack, shame that they
are of the corrupt world, they blush not to appear fat and ruddy in
the face, dainty in their garb and in all that pertaineth unto them,
and strut along, not like doves, but like very turkey-cocks, with
crest erect and breast puffed out; and what is worse (to say nothing
of having their cells full of gallipots crammed with electuaries and
unguents, of boxes full of various confections, of phials and flagons
of distilled waters and oils, of pitchers brimming with Malmsey and
Cyprus and other wines of price, insomuch that they seem to the
beholder not friars' cells, but rather apothecaries' or perfumers'
shops) they think no shame that folk should know them to be gouty,
conceiving that others see not nor know that strict fasting, coarse
viands and spare and sober living make men lean and slender and for
the most part sound of body, and that if indeed some sicken thereof,
at least they sicken not of the gout, whereto it is used to give, for
medicine, chastity and everything else that pertaineth to the natural
way of living of an honest friar. Yet they persuade themselves that
others know not that,--let alone the scant and sober living,--long
vigils, praying and discipline should make men pale and mortified and
that neither St. Dominic nor St. Francis, far from having four gowns
for one, clad themselves in cloth dyed in grain nor in other fine
stuffs, but in garments of coarse wool and undyed, to keep out the
cold and not to make a show. For which things, as well as for the
souls of the simpletons who nourish them, there is need that God
provide.
[Footnote 345: _i.e._ the discarded vanities aforesaid.]
Fra Rinaldo, then, having returned to his former appetites, began to
pay frequent visits to his gossip and waxing in assurance, proceeded
to solicit her with more than his former instancy to that which he
desired of her. The good lady, seeing herself hard pressed and Fra
Rinaldo seeming to her belike goodlier than she had thought him
aforetime, being one day sore importuned of him, had recourse to that
argument which all women use who have a mind to yield that which is
asked of them and said, 'How now, Fra Rinaldo? Do monks such things?'
'Madam,' answered he, 'when as I shall have this gown off my
back,--and I can put it off mighty easily,--I shall appear to you a
man fashioned like other men and not a monk.' The lady pulled a demure
face and said, 'Alack, wretched me! You are my gossip; how can I do
this? It were sadly ill, and I have heard many a time that it is a
very great sin; but, certes, were it not for this, I would do that
which you wish.' Quoth Fra Rinaldo, 'You are a simpleton, if you
forbear for this; I do not say that it is not a sin, but God pardoneth
greater than this to whoso repenteth. But tell me, who is more akin to
your child, I who held him at baptism or your husband who begat him?'
'My husband is more akin to him,' answered the lady; whereupon, 'You
say sooth,' rejoined the friar. 'And doth not your husband lie with
you?' 'Ay doth he,' replied she. 'Then,' said Fra Rinaldo, 'I, who am
less akin to your child than is your husband, may lie with you even
as doth he.' The lady, who knew no logic and needed little persuasion,
either believed or made a show of believing that the friar spoke the
truth and answered, 'Who might avail to answer your learned words?'
And after, notwithstanding the gossipship, she resigned herself to do
his pleasure; nor did they content themselves with one bout, but
foregathered many and many a time, having the more commodity thereof
under cover of the gossipship, for that there was less suspicion.
But once, amongst other times, it befell that Fra Rinaldo, coming to
the lady's house and finding none with her but a little maid of hers,
who was very pretty and agreeable, despatched his comrade with the
latter to the pigeon-loft, to teach her her Paternoster, and entered
with the lady, who had her child in her hand, into her bedchamber,
where they locked themselves in and fell to taking their pleasure upon
a daybed that was there. As they were thus engaged, it chanced that
the husband came home and making for the bedchamber-door, unperceived
of any, knocked and called to the lady, who, hearing this, said to the
friar, 'I am a dead woman, for here is my husband, and now he will
certainly perceive what is the reason of our familiarity.' Now Rinaldo
was stripped to his waistcoat, to wit, he had put off his gown and his
scapulary, and hearing this, answered, 'You say sooth; were I but
dressed, there might be some means; but, if you open to him and he
find me thus, there can be no excuse for us.' The lady, seized with a
sudden idea, said, 'Harkye, dress yourself and when you are dressed,
take your godchild in your arms and hearken well to that which I shall
say to him, so your words may after accord with mine, and leave me
do.' Then, to the good man, who had not yet left knocking, 'I come to
thee,' quoth she and rising, opened the chamber-door and said, with a
good countenance, 'Husband mine, I must tell thee that Fra Rinaldo,
our gossip, is come hither and it was God sent him to us; for, certes,
but for his coming, we should to-day have lost our child.'
The good simple man, hearing this, was like to swoon and said, 'How
so?' 'O husband mine,' answered Agnesa, 'there took him but now of a
sudden a fainting-fit, that methought he was dead, and I knew not what
to do or say; but just then Fra Rinaldo our gossip came in and taking
him in his arms, said, "Gossip, these be worms he hath in his body,
the which draw near to his heart and would infallibly kill him; but
have no fear, for I will conjure them and make them all die; and ere I
go hence, you shall see the child whole again as ever you saw him."
And for that we had need of thee to repeat certain orisons and that
the maid could not find thee, he caused his comrade say them in the
highest room of our house, whilst he and I came hither and locked
ourselves in, so none should hinder us, for that none other than the
child's mother might be present at such an office. Indeed, he hath the
child yet in his arms and methinketh he waiteth but for his comrade to
have made an end of saying the orisons and it will be done, for that
the boy is already altogether restored to himself.' The good simple
man, believing all this, was so straitened with concern for his child
that it never entered his mind to suspect the cheat put upon him by
his wife; but, heaving a great sigh, he said, 'I will go see him.'
'Nay,' answered she, 'thou wouldst mar that which hath been done.
Wait; I will go see an thou mayst come in and call thee.'
Meanwhile, Fra Rinaldo, who had heard everything and had dressed
himself at his leisure, took the child in his arms and called out, as
soon as he had ordered matters to his mind, saying, 'Harkye, gossip,
hear I not my gossip your husband there?' 'Ay, sir,' answered the
simpleton; whereupon, 'Then,' said the other, 'come hither.' The
cuckold went to him and Fra Rinaldo said to him, 'Take your son by the
grace of God whole and well, whereas I deemed but now you would not
see him alive at vespers; and look you let make a waxen image of his
bigness and set it up, to the praise and glory of God, before the
statue of our lord St. Ambrose, through whose intercession He hath
vouchsafed to restore him unto you.' The child, seeing his father, ran
to him and caressed him, as little children used to do, whilst the
latter, taking him, weeping, in his arms, no otherwise than as he had
brought him forth of the grave, fell to kissing him and returning
thanks to his gossip for that he had made him whole.
Meanwhile, Fra Rinaldo's comrade, who had by this taught the
serving-wench not one, but maybe more than four paternosters, and had
given her a little purse of white thread, which he had from a nun, and
made her his devotee, hearing the cuckold call at his wife's
chamber-door, had softly betaken himself to a place whence he could,
himself unseen, both see and hear what should betide and presently,
seeing that all had passed off well, came down and entering the
chamber, said, 'Fra Rinaldo, I have despatched all four of the orisons
which you bade me say.' 'Brother mine,' answered the friar, 'thou hast
a good wind and hast done well; I, for my part, had said but two
thereof, when my gossip came; but God the Lord, what with thy pains
and mine, hath shown us such favour that the child is healed.'
Therewithal the cuckold let bring good wines and confections and
entertained his gossip and the latter's comrade with that whereof they
had more need than of aught else. Then, attending them to the door, he
commended them to God and letting make the waxen image without delay,
he sent to hang it up with the others[346] before the statue of St.
Ambrose, but not that of Milan."[347]
[Footnote 346: _i.e._ the other ex votos.]
[Footnote 347: There is apparently some satirical allusion here, which
I cannot undertake to explain.]