THE FIFTH STORY

[Day the Seventh]

A JEALOUS HUSBAND, IN THE GUISE OF A PRIEST, CONFESSETH HIS

WIFE, WHO GIVETH HIM TO BELIEVE THAT SHE LOVETH A PRIEST,

WHO COMETH TO HER EVERY NIGHT; AND WHILST THE HUSBAND

SECRETLY KEEPETH WATCH AT THE DOOR FOR THE LATTER, THE LADY

BRINGETH IN A LOVER OF HERS BY THE ROOF AND LIETH WITH HIM

Lauretta having made an end of her story and all having commended the

lady for that she had done aright and even as befitted her wretch of a

husband, the king, to lose no time, turned to Fiammetta and

courteously imposed on her the burden of the story-telling; whereupon

she began thus, "Most noble ladies, the foregoing story moveth me to

tell you, on like wise, of a jealous husband, accounting, as I do, all

that their wives do unto such,--particularly whenas they are jealous

without cause,--to be well done and holding that, if the makers of the

laws had considered everything, they should have appointed none other

penalty unto women who offend in this than that which they appoint

unto whoso offendeth against other in self-defence; for that jealous

men are plotters against the lives of young women and most diligent

procurers of their deaths. Wives abide all the week mewed up at home,

occupying themselves with domestic offices and the occasions of their

families and households, and after they would fain, like every one

else, have some solace and some rest on holidays and be at leisure to

take some diversion even as do the tillers of the fields, the artisans

of the towns and the administrators of the laws, according to the

example of God himself, who rested from all His labours the seventh

day, and to the intent of the laws, both human and Divine, which,

looking to the honour of God and the common weal of all, have

distinguished working days from those of repose. But to this jealous

men will on no wise consent; nay, those days which are gladsome for

all other women they make wretcheder and more doleful than the others

to their wives, keeping them yet closelier straitened and confined;

and what a misery and a languishment this is for the poor creatures

those only know who have proved it. Wherefore, to conclude, I say that

what a woman doth to a husband who is jealous without cause should

certes not be condemned, but rather commended.

There was, then, in Arimino a merchant, very rich both in lands and

monies, who, having to wife a very fair lady, became beyond measure

jealous of her; nor had he other cause for this save that, as he loved

her exceedingly and held her very fair and saw that she studied with

all her might to please him, even so he imagined that every man loved

her and that she appeared fair to all and eke that she studied to

please others as she did himself, which was the reasoning of a man of

nought and one of little sense. Being grown thus jealous, he kept such

strict watch over her and held her in such constraint that belike many

there be of those who are condemned to capital punishment who are less

straitly guarded of their gaolers; for, far from being at liberty to

go to weddings or entertainments or to church or indeed anywise to set

foot without the house, she dared not even stand at the window nor

look abroad on any occasion; wherefore her life was most wretched and

she brooked this annoy with the more impatience as she felt herself

the less to blame. Accordingly, seeing herself unjustly suspected of

her husband, she determined, for her own solacement, to find a means

(an she but might) of doing on such wise that he should have reason

for his ill usage of her. And for that she might not station herself

at the window and so had no opportunity of showing herself favourable

to the suit of any one who might take note of her, as he passed along

her street, and pay his court to her,--knowing that in the adjoining

house there was a certain young man both handsome and agreeable,--she

bethought herself to look if there were any hole in the wall that

parted the two houses and therethrough to spy once and again till such

time as she should see the youth aforesaid and find an occasion of

speaking with him and bestowing on him her love, so he would accept

thereof, purposing, if a means could be found, to foregather with him

bytimes and on this wise while away her sorry life till such time as

the demon [of jealousy] should take leave of her husband.

Accordingly, she went spying about the walls of the house, now in one

part and now in another, whenas her husband was abroad, and happened

at last upon a very privy place where the wall was somewhat opened by

a fissure and looking therethrough, albeit she could ill discover what

was on the other side, algates she perceived that the opening gave

upon a bedchamber there and said in herself, 'Should this be the

chamber of Filippo,' to wit, the youth her neighbour, 'I were half

sped.' Then, causing secretly enquire of this by a maid of hers, who

had pity upon her, she found that the young man did indeed sleep in

that chamber all alone; wherefore, by dint of often visiting the

crevice and dropping pebbles and such small matters, whenas she

perceived him to be there, she wrought on such wise that he came to

the opening, to see what was to do; whereupon she called to him

softly. He, knowing her voice, answered her, and she, profiting by the

occasion, discovered to him in brief all her mind; whereat the youth

was mightily content and made shift to enlarge the hole from his side

on such wise that none could perceive it; and therethrough they many a

time bespoke one another and touched hands, but could go no farther,

for the jealous vigilance of the husband.

After awhile, the Feast of the Nativity drawing near, the lady told

her husband that, an it pleased him, she would fain go to church on

Christmas morning and confess and take the sacrament, as other

Christians did. Quoth he, 'And what sin hast thou committed that thou

wouldst confess?' 'How?' answered the lady. 'Thinkest thou that I am a

saint, because thou keepest me mewed up? Thou must know well enough

that I commit sins like all others that live in this world; but I will

not tell them to thee, for that thou art not a priest.' The jealous

wretch took suspicion at these words and determined to seek to know

what sins she had committed; wherefore, having bethought himself of a

means whereby he might gain his end, he answered that he was content,

but that he would have her go to no other church than their parish

chapel and that thither she must go betimes in the morning and confess

herself either to their chaplain or to such priest as the latter

should appoint her and to none other and presently return home.

Herseemed she half apprehended his meaning; but without saying

otherwhat, she answered that she would do as he said.

Accordingly, Christmas Day come, the lady arose at daybreak and

attiring herself, repaired to the church appointed her of her husband,

who, on his part, betook himself to the same place and reached it

before her. Having already taken order with the chaplain of that which

he had a mind to do, he hastily donned one of the latter's gowns, with

a great flapped cowl, such as we see priests wear, and drawing the

hood a little over his face, seated himself in the choir. The lady,

entering the chapel, enquired for the chaplain, who came and hearing

from her that she would fain confess, said that he could not hear her,

but would send her one of his brethren. Accordingly, going away, he

sent her the jealous man, in an ill hour for the latter, who came up

with a very grave air, and albeit the day was not over bright and he

had drawn the cowl far over his eyes, knew not so well to disguise

himself but he was readily recognized by the lady, who, seeing this,

said in herself, 'Praised be God! From a jealous man he is turned

priest; but no matter; I will e'en give him what he goeth seeking.'

Accordingly, feigning not to know him, she seated herself at his feet.

My lord Jealousy had put some pebbles in his mouth, to impede his

speech somewhat, so his wife might not know him by his voice,

himseeming he was in every other particular so thoroughly disguised

that he was nowise fearful of being recognized by her. To come to the

confession, the lady told him, amongst other things, (having first

declared herself to be married,) that she was enamoured of a priest,

who came every night to lie with her. When the jealous man heard this,

himseemed he had gotten a knife-thrust in the heart, and had not

desire constrained him to know more, he had abandoned the confession

and gone away. Standing fast, then, he asked the lady, 'How! Doth not

your husband lie with you?' 'Ay doth he, sir,' replied she. 'How,

then,' asked the jealous man, 'can the priest also lie with you?'

'Sir,' answered she, 'by what art he doth it I know not, but there is

not a door in the house so fast locked but it openeth so soon as he

toucheth it; and he telleth me that, whenas he cometh to the door of

my chamber, before opening it, he pronounceth certain words, by virtue

whereof my husband incontinent falleth asleep, and so soon as he

perceiveth him to be fast, he openeth the door and cometh in and lieth

with me; and this never faileth.' Quoth the mock priest, 'Madam, this

is ill done, and it behoveth you altogether to refrain therefrom.'

'Sir,' answered the lady, 'methinketh I could never do that, for that

I love him too well.' 'Then,' said the other, 'I cannot shrive you.'

Quoth she, 'I am grieved for that; but I came not hither to tell you

lies; an I thought I could do it, I would tell you so.' 'In truth,

madam,' replied the husband, 'I am concerned for you, for that I see

you lose your soul at this game; but, to do you service, I will well

to take the pains of putting up my special orisons to God in your

name, the which maybe shall profit you, and I will send you bytimes a

little clerk of mine, to whom you shall say if they have profited you

or not; and if they have profited you, we will proceed farther.'

'Sir,' answered the lady, 'whatever you do, send none to me at home,

for, should my husband come to know of it, he is so terribly jealous

that nothing in the world would get it out of his head that your

messenger came hither for nought[352] but ill, and I should have no

peace with him this year to come.' Quoth the other, 'Madam, have no

fear of that, for I will certainly contrive it on such wise that you

shall never hear a word of the matter from him.' Then said she, 'So

but you can engage to do that, I am content.' Then, having made her

confession and gotten her penance, she rose to her feet and went off

to hear mass; whilst the jealous man, (ill luck go with him!)

withdrew, bursting with rage, to put off his priest's habit, and

returned home, impatient to find a means of surprising the priest with

his wife, so he might play the one and the other an ill turn.

[Footnote 352: Boccaccio writes carelessly "for _aught_" (_altro_),

which makes nonsense of the passage.]

Presently the lady came back from church and saw plainly enough from

her husband's looks that she had given him an ill Christmas; albeit he

studied, as most he might, to conceal that which he had done and what

himseemed he had learned. Then, being inwardly resolved to lie in wait

near the street-door that night and watch for the priest's coming, he

said to the lady, 'Needs must I sup and lie abroad to-night, wherefore

look thou lock the street-door fast, as well as that of the midstair

and that of thy chamber, and get thee to bed, whenas it seemeth good

to thee.' The lady answered, 'It is well,' and betaking herself, as

soon as she had leisure, to the hole in the wall, she made the wonted

signal, which when Filippo heard, he came to her forthright. She told

him how she had done that morning and what her husband had said to her

after dinner and added, 'I am certain he will not leave the house, but

will set himself to watch the door; wherefore do thou find means to

come hither to me to-night by the roof, so we may lie together.' The

young man was mightily rejoiced at this and answered, 'Madam, leave me

do.'

Accordingly, the night come, the jealous man took his arms and hid

himself by stealth in a room on the ground floor, whilst the lady,

whenas it seemed to her time,--having caused lock all the doors and in

particular that of the midstair, so he might not avail to come

up,--summoned the young man, who came to her from his side by a very

privy way. Thereupon they went to bed and gave themselves a good time,

taking their pleasure one of the other till daybreak, when the young

man returned to his own house. Meanwhile, the jealous man stood to his

arms well nigh all night beside the street-door, sorry and supperless

and dying of cold, and waited for the priest to come till near upon

day, when, unable to watch any longer, he returned to the ground floor

room and there fell asleep. Towards tierce he awoke and the street

door being now open, he made a show of returning from otherwhere and

went up into his house and dined. A little after, he sent a lad, as he

were the priest's clerkling that had confessed her, to the lady to ask

if she wot of were come thither again. She knew the messenger well

enough and answered that he had not come thither that night and that

if he did thus, he might haply pass out of her mind, albeit she wished

it not. What more should I tell you? The jealous man abode on the

watch night after night, looking to catch the priest at his entering

in, and the lady still had a merry life with her lover the while.

At length the cuckold, able to contain himself no longer, asked his

wife, with an angry air, what she had said to the priest the morning

she had confessed herself to him. She answered that she would not tell

him, for that it was neither a just thing nor a seemly; whereupon,

'Vile woman that thou art!' cried he. 'In despite of thee I know what

thou saidst to him, and needs must I know the priest of whom thou art

so mightily enamoured and who, by means of his conjurations, lieth

with thee every night; else will I slit thy weasand.' She replied that

it was not true that she was enamoured of any priest. 'How?' cried the

husband, 'Saidst thou not thus and thus to the priest who confessed

thee?' And she, 'Thou couldst not have reported it better, not to say

if he had told it thee, but if thou hadst been present; ay, I did tell

him this.' 'Then,' rejoined the jealous man, 'tell me who is this

priest, and that quickly.'

The lady fell a-smiling and answered, 'It rejoiceth me mightily to see

a wise man led by the nose by a woman, even as one leadeth a ram by

the horns to the shambles, albeit thou art no longer wise nor hast

been since the hour when, unknowing why, thou sufferedst the malignant

spirit of jealousy to enter thy breast; and the sillier and more

besotted thou art, so much the less is my glory thereof. Deemest thou,

husband mine, I am as blind of the eyes of the body as thou of those

of the mind? Certes, no; I perceived at first sight who was the priest

that confessed me and know that thou wast he; but I had it at heart to

give thee that which thou wentest seeking, and in sooth I have done

it. Wert thou as wise as thou thinkest to be, thou wouldst not have

essayed by this means to learn the secrets of thy good wife, but

wouldst, without taking vain suspicion, have recognized that which she

confessed to thee to be the very truth, without her having sinned in

aught. I told thee that I loved a priest, and wast not thou, whom I am

much to blame to love as I do, become a priest? I told thee that no

door of my house could abide locked, whenas he had a mind to lie with

me; and what door in the house was ever kept against thee, whenas thou

wouldst come whereas I might be? I told thee that the priest lay with

me every night, and when was it that thou layest not with me? And

whenassoever thou sentest thy clerk to me, which was thou knowest, as

often as thou layest from me, I sent thee word that the priest had not

been with me. What other than a crack-brain like thee, who has

suffered thyself to be blinded by thy jealousy, had failed to

understand these things? Thou hast abidden in the house, keeping

watch anights, and thoughtest to have given me to believe that thou

wast gone abroad to sup and sleep. Bethink thee henceforth and become

a man again, as thou wast wont to be; and make not thyself a laughing

stock to whoso knoweth thy fashions, as do I, and leave this

unconscionable watching that thou keepest; for I swear to God that, an

the fancy took me to make thee wear the horns, I would engage, haddest

thou an hundred eyes, as thou hast but two, to do my pleasure on such

wise that thou shouldst not be ware thereof.'

The jealous wretch, who thought to have very adroitly surprised his

wife's secrets, hearing this, avouched himself befooled and without

answering otherwhat, held the lady for virtuous and discreet; and

whenas it behoved him to be jealous, he altogether divested himself of

his jealousy, even as he had put it on, what time he had no need

thereof. Wherefore the discreet lady, being in a manner licensed to do

her pleasures, thenceforward no longer caused her lover to come to her

by the roof, as go the cats, but e'en brought him in at the door, and

dealing advisedly, many a day thereafter gave herself a good time and

led a merry life with him."

The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio · 第 79 / 114 题