THE SEVENTH STORY

[Day the Seventh]

LODOVICO DISCOVERETH TO MADAM BEATRICE THE LOVE HE BEARETH

HER, WHEREUPON SHE SENDETH EGANO HER HUSBAND INTO THE

GARDEN, IN HER OWN FAVOUR, AND LIETH MEANWHILE WITH

LODOVICO, WHO, PRESENTLY ARISING, GOETH AND CUDGELLETH EGANO

IN THE GARDEN

Madam Isabella's presence of mind, as related by Pampinea, was held

admirable by all the company; but, whilst they yet marvelled thereat,

Filomena, whom the king had appointed to follow on, said, "Lovesome

ladies, and I mistake not, methinketh I can tell you no less goodly a

story on the same subject, and that forthright.

You must know, then, that there was once in Paris a Florentine

gentleman, who was for poverty turned merchant and had thriven so well

in commerce that he was grown thereby very rich. He had by his lady

one only son, whom he had named Lodovico, and for that he might

concern himself with his father's nobility and not with trade, he had

willed not to place him in any warehouse, but had sent him to be with

other gentlemen in the service of the King of France, where he learned

store of goodly manners and other fine things. During his sojourn

there, it befell that certain gentlemen, who were returned from

visiting the Holy Sepulchre, coming in upon a conversation between

certain young men, of whom Lodovico was one, and hearing them

discourse among themselves of the fair ladies of France and England

and other parts of the world, one of them began to say that assuredly,

in all the lands he had traversed and for all the ladies he had seen,

he had never beheld the like for beauty of Madam Beatrice, the wife of

Messer Egano de' Gulluzzi of Bologna; to which all his companions, who

had with him seen her at Bologna, agreed.

Lodovico, who had never yet been enamoured of any woman, hearkening to

this, was fired with such longing to see her that he could hold his

thought to nothing else and being altogether resolved to journey to

Bologna for that purpose and there, if she pleased him, to abide

awhile, he feigned to his father that he had a mind to go visit the

Holy Sepulchre, the which with great difficulty he obtained of him.

Accordingly, taking the name of Anichino, he set out for Bologna, and

on the day following [his arrival,] as fortune would have it, he saw

the lady in question at an entertainment, where she seemed to him

fairer far than he had imagined her; wherefore, falling most ardently

enamoured of her, he resolved never to depart Bologna till he should

have gained her love. Then, devising in himself what course he should

take to this end, he bethought himself, leaving be all other means,

that, an he might but avail to become one of her husband's servants,

whereof he entertained many, he might peradventure compass that which

he desired. Accordingly, having sold his horses and disposed as best

might be of his servants, bidding them make a show of knowing him not,

he entered into discourse with his host and told him that he would

fain engage for a servant with some gentleman of condition, could

such an one be found. Quoth the host, 'Thou art the right serving-man

to please a gentleman of this city, by name Egano, who keepeth many

and will have them all well looking, as thou art. I will bespeak him

of the matter.' As he said, so he did, and ere he took leave of Egano,

he had brought Anichino to an accord with him, to the exceeding

satisfaction of the latter, who, abiding with Egano and having

abundant opportunity of seeing his lady often, proceeded to serve him

so well and so much to his liking that he set such store by him that

he could do nothing without him and committed to him the governance,

not of himself alone, but of all his affairs.

It chanced one day that, Egano being gone a-fowling and having left

Anichino at home, Madam Beatrice (who was not yet become aware of his

love for her, albeit, considering him and his fashions, she had

ofttimes much commended him to herself and he pleased her,) fell to

playing chess with him and he, desiring to please her, very adroitly

contrived to let himself be beaten, whereat the lady was marvellously

rejoiced. Presently, all her women having gone away from seeing them

play and left them playing alone, Anichino heaved a great sigh,

whereupon she looked at him and said, 'What aileth thee, Anichino?

Doth it irk thee that I should beat thee?' 'Madam,' answered he, 'a

far greater thing than that was the cause of my sighing.' Quoth the

lady, 'Prithee, as thou wishest me well, tell it me.' When Anichino

heard himself conjured, 'as thou wishest me well,' by her whom he

loved over all else, he heaved a sigh yet heavier than the first;

wherefore the lady besought him anew that it would please him tell her

the cause of his sighing. 'Madam,' replied Anichino, 'I am sore

fearful lest it displease you, if I tell it you, and moreover I

misdoubt me you will tell it again to others.' Whereto rejoined she,

'Certes, it will not displease me, and thou mayst be assured that,

whatsoever thou sayest to me I will never tell to any, save whenas it

shall please thee.' Quoth he, 'Since you promise me this, I will e'en

tell it you.' Then, with tears in his eyes, he told her who he was and

what he had heard of her and when and how he was become enamoured of

her and why he had taken service with her husband and after humbly

besought her that it would please her have compassion on him and

comply with him in that his secret and so fervent desire, and in case

she willed not to do this, that she should suffer him to love her,

leaving him be in that his then present guise.

O singular blandness of the Bolognese blood! How art thou still to be

commended in such circumstance! Never wast thou desirous of tears or

sighs; still wast thou compliant unto prayers and amenable unto

amorous desires! Had I words worthy to commend thee, my voice should

never weary of singing thy praises. The gentle lady, what while

Anichino spoke, kept her eyes fixed on him and giving full credence to

his words, received, by the prevalence of his prayers, the love of him

with such might into her heart that she also fell a-sighing and

presently answered, 'Sweet my Anichino, be of good courage; neither

presents nor promises nor solicitations of nobleman or gentleman or

other (for I have been and am yet courted of many) have ever availed

to move my heart to love any one of them; but thou, in this small

space of time that thy words have lasted, hast made me far more thine

than mine own. Methinketh thou hast right well earned my love,

wherefore I give it thee and promise thee that I will cause thee have

enjoyment thereof ere this next night be altogether spent. And that

this may have effect, look thou come to my chamber about midnight. I

will leave the door open; thou knowest which side the bed I lie; do

thou come thither and if I sleep, touch me so I may awake, and I will

ease thee of this so long desire that thou hast had. And that thou

mayst believe this that I say, I will e'en give thee a kiss by way of

arles.' Accordingly, throwing her arms about his neck, she kissed him

amorously and he on like wise kissed her. These things said, he left

her and went to do certain occasions of his, awaiting with the

greatest gladness in the world the coming of the night.

Presently, Egano returned from fowling and being weary, betook himself

to bed, as soon as he had supper, and after him the lady, who left the

chamber-door open, as she had promised. Thither, at the appointed

hour, came Anichino and softly entering the chamber, shut the door

again from within; then, going up to the bed on the side where the

lady lay, he put his hand to her breast and found her awake. As soon

as she felt him come, she took his hand in both her own and held it

fast; then, turning herself about in the bed, she did on such wise

that Egano, who was asleep, awoke; whereupon quoth she to him, 'I

would not say aught to thee yestereve, for that meseemed thou was

weary; but tell me, Egano, so God save thee, whom holdest thou thy

best and trustiest servant and him who most loveth thee of those whom

thou hast in the house?' 'Wife,' answered Egano, 'what is this whereof

thou askest me? Knowest thou it not? I have not nor had aye any in

whom I so trusted and whom I loved as I love and trust in Anichino.

But why dost thou ask me thereof?'

Anichino, seeing Egano awake and hearing talk of himself, was sore

afraid lest the lady had a mind to cozen him and offered again and

again to draw his hand away, so he might begone; but she held it so

fast that he could not win free. Then said she to Egano, 'I will tell

thee. I also believed till to-day that he was even such as thou sayest

and that he was more loyal to thee than any other, but he hath

undeceived me; for that, what while thou wentest a-fowling to-day, he

abode here, and whenas it seemed to him time, he was not ashamed to

solicit me to yield myself to his pleasures, and I, so I might make

thee touch and see this thing and that it might not behove me certify

thee thereof with too many proofs, replied that I would well and that

this very night, after midnight, I would go into our garden and there

await him at the foot of the pine. Now for my part I mean not to go

thither; but thou, an thou have a mind to know thy servant's fidelity,

thou mayst lightly do it by donning a gown and a veil of mine and

going down yonder to wait and see if he will come thither, as I am

assured he will.' Egano hearing this, answered, 'Certes, needs must I

go see,' and rising, donned one of the lady's gowns, as best he knew

in the dark; then, covering his head with a veil, he betook himself to

the garden and proceeded to await Anichino at the foot of the pine.

As for the lady, as soon as she knew him gone forth of the chamber,

she arose and locked the door from within, whilst Anichino, (who had

had the greatest fright he had ever known and had enforced himself as

most he might to escape from the lady's hands, cursing her and her

love and himself who had trusted in her an hundred thousand times,)

seeing this that she had done in the end, was the joyfullest man that

was aye. Then, she having returned to bed, he, at her bidding, put off

his clothes and coming to bed to her, they took delight and pleasure

together a pretty while; after which, herseeming he should not abide

longer, she caused him arise and dress himself and said to him,

'Sweetheart, do thou take a stout cudgel and get thee to the garden

and there, feigning to have solicited me to try me, rate Egano, as he

were I, and ring me a good peal of bells on his back with the cudgel,

for that thereof will ensue to us marvellous pleasance and delight.'

Anichino accordingly repaired to the garden, with a sallow-stick in

his hand, and Egano, seeing him draw near the pine, rose up and came

to meet him, as he would receive him with the utmost joy; whereupon

quoth Anichino, 'Ah, wicked woman, art thou then come hither, and

thinkest thou I would do my lord such a wrong? A thousand times ill

come to thee!' Then, raising the cudgel, he began to lay on to him.

Egano, hearing this and seeing the cudgel, took to his heels, without

saying a word, whilst Anichino still followed after him, saying, 'Go

to, God give thee an ill year, vile woman that thou art! I will

certainly tell it to Egano to-morrow morning.' Egano made his way back

to the chamber as quickliest he might, having gotten sundry good

clouts, and being questioned of the lady if Anichino had come to the

garden, 'Would God he had not!' answered he. 'For that, taking me for

thee, he hath cudgelled me to a mummy and given me the soundest rating

that was aye bestowed upon lewd woman. Certes, I marvelled sore at him

that he should have said these words to thee, with intent to do aught

that might be a shame to me; but, for that he saw thee so blithe and

gamesome, he had a mind to try thee.' Then said the lady, 'Praised be

God that he hath tried me with words and thee with deeds! Methinketh

he may say that I suffered his words more patiently than thou his

deeds. But, since he is so loyal to thee, it behoveth thee hold him

dear and do him honour.' 'Certes,' answered Egano, 'thou sayst sooth';

and reasoning by this, he concluded that he had the truest wife and

the trustiest servant that ever gentleman had; by reason whereof,

albeit both he and the lady made merry more than once with Anichino

over this adventure, the latter and his mistress had leisure enough of

that which belike, but for this, they would not have had, to wit, to

do that which afforded them pleasance and delight, that while it

pleased Anichino abide with Egano in Bologna."

The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio · 第 81 / 114 题