[Day the Ninth]
MADAM FRANCESCA, BEING COURTED BY ONE RINUCCIO PALERMINI AND
ONE ALESSANDRO CHIARMONTESI AND LOVING NEITHER THE ONE NOR
THE OTHER, ADROITLY RIDDETH HERSELF OF BOTH BY CAUSING ONE
ENTER FOR DEAD INTO A SEPULCHRE AND THE OTHER BRING HIM
FORTH THEREOF FOR DEAD, ON SUCH WISE THAT THEY CANNOT AVAIL
TO ACCOMPLISH THE CONDITION IMPOSED
"Since it is your pleasure, madam, I am well pleased to be she who
shall run the first ring in this open and free field of story-telling,
wherein your magnificence hath set us; the which an I do well, I doubt
not but that those who shall come after will do well and better. Many
a time, charming ladies, hath it been shown in our discourses what
and how great is the power of love; natheless, for that medeemeth not
it hath been fully spoken thereof (no, nor would be, though we should
speak of nothing else for a year to come,) and that not only doth love
bring lovers into divers dangers of death, but causeth them even to
enter for dead into the abiding-places of the dead, it is my pleasure
to relate to you a story thereof, over and above those which have been
told, whereby not only will you apprehend the puissance of love, but
will know the wit used by a worthy lady in ridding herself of two who
loved her against her will.
You must know, then, that there was once in the city of Pistoia a very
fair widow lady, of whom two of our townsmen, called the one Rinuccio
Palermini and the other Alessandro Chiarmontesi, there abiding by
reason of banishment from Florence, were, without knowing one of
other, passionately enamoured, having by chance fallen in love with
her and doing privily each his utmost endeavour to win her favour. The
gentlewoman in question, whose name was Madam Francesca de' Lazzari,
being still importuned of the one and the other with messages and
entreaties, to which she had whiles somewhat unwisely given ear, and
desiring, but in vain, discreetly to retract, bethought herself how
she might avail to rid herself of their importunity by requiring them
of a service, which, albeit it was possible, she conceived that
neither of them would render her, to the intent that, they not doing
that which she required, she might have a fair and colourable occasion
of refusing to hearken more to their messages; and the device which
occurred to her was on this wise.
There had died that very day at Pistoia, one, who, albeit his
ancestors were gentlemen, was reputed the worst man that was, not only
in Pistoia, but in all the world; more by token that he was in his
lifetime so misshapen and of so monstrous a favour that whoso knew him
not, seeing him for the first time, had been affeared of him; and he
had been buried in a tomb without the church of the Minor Friars. This
circumstance she bethought herself would in part be very apt to her
purpose and accordingly she said to a maid of hers, 'Thou knowest the
annoy and the vexation I suffer all day long by the messages of yonder
two Florentines, Rinuccio and Alessandro. Now I am not disposed to
gratify [either of] them with my love, and to rid myself of them, I
have bethought myself, for the great proffers that they make, to seek
to make proof of them in somewhat which I am certain they will not do;
so shall I do away from me this their importunity, and thou shalt see
how. Thou knowest that Scannadio,[425] for so was the wicked man
called of whom we have already spoken, 'was this morning buried in the
burial-place of the Minor Brethren, Scannadio, of whom, whenas they
saw him alive, let alone dead, the doughtiest men of this city went in
fear; wherefore go thou privily first to Alessandro and bespeak him,
saying, "Madam Francesca giveth thee to know that now is the time
come whenas thou mayst have her love, which thou hast so much
desired, and be with her, an thou wilt, on this wise. This night, for
a reason which thou shalt know after, the body of Scannadio, who was
this morning buried, is to be brought to her house by a kinsman of
hers, and she, being in great fear of him, dead though he be, would
fain not have him there; wherefore she prayeth thee that it please
thee, by way of doing her a great service, go this evening, at the
time of the first sleep, to the tomb wherein he is buried, and donning
the dead man's clothes, abide as thou wert he until such time as they
shall come for thee. Then, without moving or speaking, thou must
suffer thyself be taken up out of the tomb and carried to her house,
where she will receive thee, and thou mayst after abide with her and
depart at thy leisure, leaving to her the care of the rest." An he say
that he will do it, well and good; but, should he refuse, bid him on
my part, never more show himself whereas I may be and look, as he
valueth his life, that he send me no more letters or messages. Then
shalt thou betake thee to Rinuccio Palermini and say to him, "Madam
Francesca saith that she is ready to do thine every pleasure, an thou
wilt render her a great service, to wit, that to-night, towards the
middle hour, thou get thee to the tomb wherein Scannadio was this
morning buried and take him up softly thence and bring him to her at
her house, without saying a word of aught thou mayst hear or feel.
There shalt thou learn what she would with him and have of her thy
pleasure; but, an it please thee not to do this, she chargeth thee
never more send her writ nor message."'
[Footnote 425: _Scannadio_ signifies "Murder-God" and was no doubt a
nickname bestowed upon the dead man, on account of his wicked and
reprobate way of life.]
The maid betook herself to the two lovers and did her errand
punctually to each, saying as it had been enjoined her; whereto each
made answer that, an it pleased her, they would go, not only into a
tomb, but into hell itself. The maid carried their reply to the lady
and she waited to see if they would be mad enough to do it. The night
come, whenas it was the season of the first sleep, Alessandro
Chiarmontesi, having stripped himself to his doublet, went forth of
his house to take Scannadio's place in the tomb; but, by the way,
there came a very frightful thought into his head and he fell a-saying
in himself, 'Good lack, what a fool I am! Whither go I? How know I but
yonder woman's kinsfolk, having maybe perceived that I love her and
believing that which is not, have caused me do this, so they may
slaughter me in yonder tomb? An it should happen thus, I should suffer
for it nor would aught in the world be ever known thereof to their
detriment. Or what know I but maybe some enemy of mine hath procured
me this, whom she belike loveth and seeketh to oblige therein?' Then
said he, 'But, grant that neither of these things be and that her
kinsfolk are e'en for carrying me to her house, I must believe that
they want not Scannadio's body to hold it in their arms or to put it
in hers; nay, it is rather to be conceived that they mean to do it
some mischief, as the body of one who maybe disobliged them in
somewhat aforetime. She saith that I am not to say a word for aught
that I may feel. But, should they put out mine eyes or draw my teeth
or lop off my hands or play me any other such trick, how shall I do?
How could I abide quiet? And if I speak, they will know me and mayhap
do me a mischief, or, though they do me no hurt, yet shall I have
accomplished nothing, for that they will not leave me with the lady;
whereupon she will say that I have broken her commandment and will
never do aught to pleasure me.' So saying, he had well nigh returned
home; but, nevertheless, his great love urged him on with counter
arguments of such potency that they brought him to the tomb, which he
opened and entering therein, stripped Scannadio of his clothes; then,
donning them and shutting the tomb upon himself, he laid himself in
the dead man's place. Thereupon he began to call to mind what manner
of man the latter had been and remembering him of all the things
whereof he had aforetime heard tell as having befallen by night, not
to say in the sepulchres of the dead, but even otherwhere, his every
hair began to stand on end and himseemed each moment as if Scannadio
should rise upright and butcher him then and there. However, aided by
his ardent love, he got the better of these and the other fearful
thoughts that beset him and abiding as he were the dead man, he fell
to awaiting that which should betide him.
Meanwhile, Rinuccio, midnight being now at hand, departed his house,
to do that which had been enjoined him of his mistress, and as he
went, he entered into many and various thoughts of the things which
might possibly betide him; as, to wit, that he might fall into the
hands of the police, with Scannadio's body on his shoulders, and be
doomed to the fire as a sorcerer, and that he should, an the thing
came to be known, incur the ill-will of his kinsfolk, and other like
thoughts, whereby he was like to have been deterred. But after,
bethinking himself again, 'Alack,' quoth he, 'shall I deny this
gentlewoman, whom I have so loved and love, the first thing she
requireth of me, especially as I am thereby to gain her favour? God
forbid, though I were certainly to die thereof, but I should set
myself to do that which I have promised!' Accordingly, he went on and
presently coming to the sepulchre, opened it easily; which Alessandro
hearing, abode still, albeit he was in great fear. Rinuccio, entering
in and thinking to take Scannadio's body, laid hold of Alessandro's
feet and drew him forth of the tomb; then, hoisting him on his
shoulders, he made off towards the lady's house.
Going thus and taking no manner of heed to his burden, he jolted it
many a time now against one corner and now another of certain benches
that were beside the way, more by token that the night was so cloudy
and so dark he could not see whither he went. He was already well nigh
at the door of the gentlewoman, who had posted herself at the window
with her maid, to see if he would bring Alessandro, and was ready
armed with an excuse to send them both away, when it chanced that the
officers of the watch, who were ambushed in the street and abode
silently on the watch to lay hands upon a certain outlaw, hearing the
scuffling that Rinuccio made with his feet, suddenly put out a light,
to see what was to do and whither to go, and rattled their targets and
halberds, crying, 'Who goeth there?' Rinuccio, seeing this and having
scant time for deliberation, let fall his burden and made off as fast
as his legs would carry him; whereupon Alessandro arose in haste and
made off in his turn, for all he was hampered with the dead man's
clothes, which were very long. The lady, by the light of the lantern
put out by the police, had plainly recognized Rinuccio, with
Alessandro on his shoulders, and perceiving the latter to be clad in
Scannadio's clothes, marvelled amain at the exceeding hardihood of
both; but, for all her wonderment, she laughed heartily to see
Alessandro cast down on the ground and to see him after take to
flight. Then, rejoiced at this accident and praising God that He had
rid her of the annoy of these twain, she turned back into the house
and betook herself to her chamber, avouching to her maid that without
doubt they both loved her greatly, since, as it appeared, they had
done that which she had enjoined them.
Meanwhile Rinuccio, woeful and cursing his ill fortune, for all that
returned not home, but, as soon as the watch had departed the
neighbourhood, he came back whereas he had dropped Alessandro and
groped about, to see if he could find him again, so he might make an
end of his service; but, finding him not and concluding that the
police had carried him off, he returned to his own house, woebegone,
whilst Alessandro, unknowing what else to do, made off home on like
wise, chagrined at such a misadventure and without having recognized
him who had borne him thither. On the morrow, Scannadio's tomb being
found open and his body not to be seen, for that Alessandro had rolled
it to the bottom of the vault, all Pistoia was busy with various
conjectures anent the matter, and the simpler sort concluded that he
had been carried off by the devils. Nevertheless, each of the two
lovers signified to the lady that which he had done and what had
befallen and excusing himself withal for not having full accomplished
her commandment, claimed her favour and her love; but she, making
believe to credit neither of this, rid herself of them with a curt
response to the effect that she would never consent to do aught for
them, since they had not done that which she had required of them."