--
Madam Beritola loses two sons, is found with two kids on an island, goes
thence to Lunigiana, where one of her sons takes service with her master,
and lies with his daughter, for which he is put in prison. Sicily rebels
against King Charles, the son is recognised by the mother, marries the
master's daughter, and, his brother being discovered, is reinstated in great
honour.
--
The ladies and the young men alike had many a hearty laugh over Fiammetta's
narrative of Andreuccio's adventures, which ended, Emilia, at the queen's
command, thus began:--
Grave and grievous are the vicissitudes with which Fortune makes us
acquainted, and as discourse of such matter serves to awaken our minds,
which are so readily lulled to sleep by her flatteries, I deem it worthy of
attentive hearing by all, whether they enjoy her favour or endure her frown,
in that it ministers counsel to the one sort and consolation to the other.
Wherefore, albeit great matters have preceded it, I mean to tell you a
story, not less true than touching, of adventures whereof the issue was
indeed felicitous, but the antecedent bitterness so long drawn out that
scarce can I believe that it was ever sweetened by ensuing happiness.
Dearest ladies, you must know that after the death of the Emperor Frederic
II. the crown of Sicily passed to Manfred; whose favour was enjoyed in the
highest degree by a gentleman of Naples, Arrighetto Capece by name, who had
to wife Madonna Beritola Caracciola, a fair and gracious lady, likewise a
Neapolitan. Now when Manfred was conquered and slain by King Charles I. at
Benevento, and the whole realm transferred its allegiance to the conqueror,
Arrighetto, who was then governor of Sicily, no sooner received the tidings
than he prepared for instant flight, knowing that little reliance was to be
placed on the fleeting faith of the Sicilians, and not being minded to
become a subject of his master's enemy. But the Sicilians having
intelligence of his plans, he and many other friends and servants of King
Manfred were surprised, taken prisoners and delivered over to King Charles,
to whom the whole island was soon afterwards surrendered. In this signal
reversal of the wonted course of things Madam Beritola, knowing not what was
become of Arrighetto, and from the past ever auguring future evil, lest she
should suffer foul dishonour, abandoned all that she possessed, and with a
son of, perhaps, eight years, Giusfredi by name, being also pregnant, fled
in a boat to Lipari, where she gave birth to another male child, whom she
named Outcast. Then with her sons and a hired nurse she took ship for
Naples, intending there to rejoin her family. Events, however, fell out
otherwise than she expected; for by stress of weather the ship was carried
out of her course to the desert island of Ponza, (1) where they put in to a
little bay until such time as they might safely continue their voyage. Madam
Beritola landed with the rest on the island, and, leaving them all, sought
out a lonely and secluded spot, and there abandoned herself to melancholy
brooding on the loss of her dear Arrighetto. While thus she spent her days
in solitary preoccupation with her grief it chanced that a galley of
corsairs swooped down upon the island, and, before either the mariners or
any other folk were aware of their peril, made an easy capture of them all
and sailed away; so that, when Madam Beritola, her wailing for that day
ended, returned, as was her wont, to the shore to solace herself with the
sight of her sons, she found none there. At first she was lost in wonder,
then with a sudden suspicion of the truth she bent her eyes seaward, and
there saw the galley still at no great distance, towing the ship in her
wake. Thus apprehending beyond all manner of doubt that she had lost her
sons as well as her husband, and that, alone, desolate and destitute, she
might not hope, that any of her lost ones would ever be restored to her, she
fell down on the shore in a swoon with the names of her husband and sons
upon her lips. None was there to administer cold water or aught else that
might recall her truant powers; her animal spirits might even wander
whithersoever they would at their sweet will: strength, however, did at last
return to her poor exhausted frame, and therewith tears and lamentations,
as, plaintively repeating her sons' names, she roamed in quest of them from
cavern to cavern. Long time she sought them thus; but when she saw that her
labour was in vain, and that night was closing in, hope, she knew not why,
began to return, and with it some degree of anxiety on her own account.
Wherefore she left the shore and returned to the cavern where she had been
wont to indulge her plaintive mood. She passed the night in no small fear
and indescribable anguish; the new day came, and, as she had not supped, she
was fain after tierce to appease her hunger, as best she could, by a
breakfast of herbs: this done, she wept and began to ruminate on her future
way of life. While thus engaged, she observed a she-goat come by and go into
an adjacent cavern, and after a while come forth again and go into the wood:
thus roused from her reverie she got up, went into the cavern from which the
she-goat had issued, and there saw two kids, which might have been born that
very day, and seemed to her the sweetest and the most delicious things in
the world: and, having, by reason of her recent delivery, milk still within
her, she took them up tenderly, and set them to her breast. They, nothing
loath, sucked at her teats as if she had been their own dam; and thenceforth
made no distinction between her and the dam. Which caused the lady to feel
that she had found company in the desert; and so, living on herbs and water,
weeping as often as she bethought her of her husband and sons and her past
life, she disposed herself to live and die there, and became no less
familiar with the she-goat than with her young.
The gentle lady thus leading the life of a wild creature, it chanced that
after some months stress of weather brought a Pisan ship to the very same
bay in which she had landed. The ship lay there for several days, having on
board a gentleman, Currado de' Malespini by name (of the same family as the
Marquis), who with his noble and most devout lady was returning home from a
pilgrimage, having visited all the holy places in the realm of Apulia. To
beguile the tedium of the sojourn Currado with his lady, some servants and
his dogs, set forth one day upon a tour through the island. As they neared
the place where Madam Beritola dwelt, Currado's dogs on view of the two
kids, which, now of a fair size, were grazing, gave chase. The kids, pursued
by the dogs, made straight for Madam Beritola's cavern. She, seeing what was
toward, started to her feet, caught up a stick, and drove the dogs back.
Currado and his lady coming up after the dogs, gazed on Madam Beritola, now
tanned and lean and hairy, with wonder, which she more than reciprocated. At
her request Currado called off the dogs; and then he and his lady besought
her again and again to say who she was and what she did there. So she told
them all about herself, her rank, her misfortunes, and the savage life which
she was minded to lead. Currado, who had known Arrighetto Capece very well,
was moved to tears by compassion, and exhausted all his eloquence to induce
her to change her mind, offering to escort her home, or to take her to live
with him in honourable estate as his sister until God should vouchsafe her
kindlier fortune. The lady, declining all his offers, Currado left her with
his wife, whom he bade see that food was brought thither, and let Madam
Beritola, who was all in rags, have one of her own dresses to wear, and do
all that she could to persuade her to go with them. So the gentle lady
stayed with Madam Beritola, and after condoling with her at large on her
misfortunes had food and clothing brought to her, and with the greatest
difficulty in the world prevailed upon her to eat and dress herself. At
last, after much beseeching, she induced her to depart from her oft-declared
intention never to go where she might meet any that knew her, and accompany
them to Lunigiana, taking with her the two kids and the dam, which latter
had in the meantime returned, and to the gentle lady's great surprise had
greeted Madam Beritola with the utmost affection. So with the return of fair
weather Madam Beritola, taking with her the dam and the two kids, embarked
with Currado and his lady on their ship, being called by them--for her true
name was not to be known of all--Cavriuola; (2) and the wind holding fair,
they speedily reached the mouth of the Magra, (3) and landing hied them to
Currado's castle where Madam Beritola abode with Currado's lady in the
quality of her maid, serving her well and faithfully, wearing widow's weeds,
and feeding and tending her kids with assiduous and loving care.
The corsairs, who, not espying Madam Beritola, had left her at Ponza when
they took the ship on which she had come thither, had made a course to
Genoa, taking with them all the other folk. On their arrival the owners of
the galley shared the booty, and so it happened that as part thereof Madam
Beritola's nurse and her two boys fell to the lot of one Messer Guasparrino
d'Oria, who sent all three to his house, being minded to keep them there as
domestic slaves. The nurse, beside herself with grief at the loss of her
mistress and the woful plight in which she found herself and her two
charges, shed many a bitter tear. But, seeing that they were unavailing, and
that she and the boys were slaves together, she, having, for all her low
estate, her share of wit and good sense, made it her first care to comfort
them; then, regardful of the condition to which they were reduced, she
bethought her, that, if the lads were recognised, 'twould very likely be
injurious to them. So, still hoping that some time or another Fortune would
change her mood, and they be able, if living, to regain their lost estate,
she resolved to let none know who they were, until she saw a fitting
occasion; and accordingly, whenever she was questioned thereof by any, she
gave them out as her own children. The name of the elder she changed from
Giusfredi to Giannotto di Procida; the name of the younger she did not think
it worth while to change. She spared no pains to make Giusfredi understand
the reason why she had changed his name, and, the risk which he might run if
he were recognised. This she impressed upon him not once only but many
times; and the boy, who was apt to learn, followed the instructions of the
wise nurse with perfect exactitude.
So the two boys, ill clad and worse shod, continued with the nurse in Messer
Guasparrino's house for two years, patiently performing all kinds of menial
offices. But Giannotto, being now sixteen years old, and of a spirit that
consorted ill with servitude, brooked not the baseness of his lot, and
dismissed himself from Messer Guasparrino's service by getting aboard a
galley bound for Alexandria, and travelled far and wide, and fared never the
better. In the course of his wanderings he learned that his father, whom he
had supposed to be dead, was still living, but kept in prison under watch
and ward by King Charles. He was grown a tall handsome young man, when,
perhaps three or four years after he had given Messer Guasparrino the slip,
weary of roaming and all but despairing of his fortune, he came to
Lunigiana, and by chance took service with Currado Malespini, who found him
handy, and was well-pleased with him. His mother, who was in attendance on
Currado's lady, he seldom saw, and never recognised her, nor she him; so
much had time changed both from their former aspect since they last met.
While Giannotto was thus in the service of Currado, it fell out by the death
of Niccolo da Grignano that his widow, Spina, Currado's daughter, returned
to her father's house. Very fair she was and loveable, her age not more than
sixteen years, and so it was that she saw Giannotto with favour, and he her,
and both fell ardently in love with one another. Their passion was early
gratified; but several months elapsed before any detected its existence.
Wherefore, growing overbold, they began to dispense with the precautions
which such an affair demanded. So one day, as they walked with others
through a wood, where the trees grew fair and close, the girl and Giannotto
left the rest of the company some distance behind, and, thinking that they
were well in advance, found a fair pleasaunce girt in with trees and
carpeted with abundance of grass and flowers, and fell to solacing
themselves after the manner of lovers. Long time they thus dallied, though
such was their delight that all too brief it seemed to them, and so it
befell that they were surprised first by the girl's mother and then by
Currado. Pained beyond measure by what he had seen, Currado, without
assigning any cause, had them both arrested by three of his servants and
taken in chains to one of his castles; where in a frenzy of passionate wrath
he left them, resolved to put them to an ignominious death. The girl's
mother was also very angry, and deemed her daughter's fall deserving of the
most rigorous chastisement, but, when by one of Currado's chance words she
divined the doom which he destined for the guilty pair, she could not
reconcile herself to it, and hasted to intercede with her angry husband,
beseeching him to refrain the impetuous wrath which would hurry him in his
old age to murder his daughter and imbrue his hands in the blood of his
servant, and vent it in some other way, as by close confinement and duress,
whereby the culprits should be brought to repent them of their fault in
tears. Thus, and with much more to the like effect, the devout lady urged
her suit, and at length prevailed upon her husband to abandon his murderous
design. Wherefore, he commanded that the pair should be confined in separate
prisons, and closely guarded, and kept short of food and in sore discomfort,
until further order; which was accordingly done; and the life which the
captives led, their endless tears, their fasts of inordinate duration, may
be readily imagined.
Giannotto and Spina had languished in this sorry plight for full a year,
entirely ignored by Currado, when in concert with Messer Gian di Procida,
King Peter of Arragon raised a rebellion (4) in the island of Sicily, and
wrested it from King Charles, whereat Currado, being a Ghibelline, was
overjoyed. Hearing the tidings from one of his warders, Giannotto heaved a
great sigh, and said:--"Alas, fourteen years have I been a wanderer upon the
face of the earth, looking for no other than this very event; and now, that
my hopes of happiness may be for ever frustrate, it has come to pass only to
find me in prison, whence I may never think to issue alive." "How?" said the
warder; "what signify to thee these doings of these mighty monarchs? What
part hadst thou in Sicily?" Giannotto answered:--"'Tis as if my heart were
breaking when I bethink me of my father and what part he had in Sicily. I
was but a little lad when I fled the island, but yet I remember him as its
governor in the time of King Manfred." "And who then was thy father?"
demanded the warder. "His name," rejoined Giannotto, "I need no longer
scruple to disclose, seeing that I find myself in the very strait which I
hoped to avoid by concealing it. He was and still is, if he live, Arrighetto
Capece; and my name is not Giannotto but Giusfredi; and I doubt not but,
were I once free, and back in Sicily, I might yet hold a very honourable
position in the island."
The worthy man asked no more questions, but, as soon as he found
opportunity, told what he had learned to Currado, who, albeit he made light
of it in the warder's presence, repaired to Madam Beritola, and asked her in
a pleasant manner, whether she had had by Arrighetto a son named Giusfredi.
The lady answered, in tears, that, if the elder of her two sons were living,
such would be his name, and his age twenty-two years. This inclined Currado
to think that Giannotto and Giusfredi were indeed one and the same; and it
occurred to him, that, if so it were, he might at once shew himself most
merciful and blot out his daughter's shame and his own by giving her to him
in marriage; wherefore he sent for Giannotto privily, and questioned him in
detail touching his past life. And finding by indubitable evidence that he
was indeed Giusfredi, son of Arrighetto Capece, he said to him:--"Giannotto,
thou knowest the wrong which thou hast done me in the person of my daughter,
what and how great it is, seeing that I used thee well and kindly, and thou
shouldst therefore, like a good servant, have shewn thyself jealous of my
honour, and zealous in my interest; and many there are who, hadst thou
treated them as thou hast treated me, would have caused thee to die an
ignominious death; which my clemency would not brook. But now, as it is even
so as thou sayst, and thou art of gentle blood by both thy parents, I am
minded to put an end to thy sufferings as soon as thou wilt, releasing thee
from the captivity in which thou languishest, and setting thee in a happy
place, and reinstating at once thy honour and my own. Thy intimacy with
Spina--albeit, shameful to both--was yet prompted by love. Spina, as thou
knowest, is a widow, and her dower is ample and secure. What her breeding
is, and her father's and her mother's, thou knowest: of thy present
condition I say nought. Wherefore, when thou wilt, I am consenting, that,
having been with dishonour thy friend, she become with honour thy wife, and
that, so long as it seem good to thee, thou tarry here with her and me as my
son."
Captivity had wasted Giannotto's flesh, but had in no degree impaired the
generosity of spirit which he derived from his ancestry, or the
whole-hearted love which he bore his lady. So, albeit he ardently desired
that which Currado offered, and knew that he was in Currado's power, yet,
even as his magnanimity prompted, so, unswervingly, he made answer:--
"Currado, neither ambition nor cupidity nor aught else did ever beguile me
to any treacherous machination against either thy person or thy property.
Thy daughter I loved, and love and shall ever love, because I deem her
worthy of my love, and, if I dealt with her after a fashion which to the
mechanic mind seems hardly honourable, I did but commit that fault which is
ever congenial to youth, which can never be eradicated so long as youth
continues, and which, if the aged would but remember that they were once
young and would measure the delinquencies of others by their own and their
own by those of others, would not be deemed so grave as thou and many others
depict it; and what I did, I did as a friend, not as an enemy. That which
thou offerest I have ever desired and should long ago have sought, had I
supposed that thou wouldst grant it, and 'twill be the more grateful to me
in proportion to the depth of my despair. But if thy intent be not such, as
thy words import, feed me not with vain hopes, but send me back to prison
there to suffer whatever thou mayst be pleased to inflict; nor doubt that
even as I love Spina, so for love of her shall I ever love thee, though thou
do thy worst, and still hold thee in reverent regard.
Currado marvelled to hear him thus speak, and being assured of his
magnanimity and the fervour of his love, held him the more dear; wherefore
he rose, embraced and kissed him, and without further delay bade privily
bring thither Spina, who left her prison wasted and wan and weak, and so
changed that she seemed almost another woman than of yore, even as Giannotto
was scarce his former self. Then and there in Currado's presence they
plighted their troth according to our custom of espousals; and some days
afterwards Currado, having in the meantime provided all things meet for
their convenience and solace, yet so as that none should surmise what had
happened, deemed it now time to gladden their mothers with the news. So he
sent for his lady and Cavriuola, and thus, addressing Cavriuola, he
spoke:--"What would you say, madam, were I to restore you your elder son as
the husband of one of my daughters?" Cavriuola answered:--"I should say,
that, were it possible for you to strengthen the bond which attaches me to
you, then assuredly you had so done, in that you restored to me that which I
cherish more tenderly than myself, and in such a guise as in some measure to
renew within me the hope which I had lost: more I could not say." And so,
weeping, she was silent. Then, turning to his lady, Currado said:--"And
thou, madam, what wouldst thou think if I were to present thee with such a
son-in-law?" "A son-in-law," she answered, "that was not of gentle blood,
but a mere churl, so he pleased you, would well content me." "So!" returned
Currado; "I hope within a few days to gladden the hearts of both of you."
He waited only until the two young folk had recovered their wonted mien, and
were clad in a manner befitting their rank. Then, addressing Giusfredi, he
said:--"Would it not add to thy joy to see thy mother here?" "I dare not
hope," returned Giusfredi," that she has survived calamities and sufferings
such as hers; but were it so, great indeed would be my joy, and none the
less that by her counsel I might be aided to the recovery (in great measure)
of my lost heritage in Sicily." Whereupon Currado caused both the ladies to
come thither, and presented to them the bride. The gladness with which they
both greeted her was a wonder to behold, and no less great was their wonder
at the benign inspiration that had prompted Currado to unite her in wedlock
with Giannotto, whom Currado's words caused Madam Beritola to survey with
some attention. A hidden spring of memory was thus touched; she recognised
in the man the lineaments of her boy, and awaiting no further evidence she
ran with open arms and threw herself upon his neck. No word did she utter,
for very excess of maternal tenderness and joy; but, every avenue of sense
closed, she fell as if bereft of life within her son's embrace. Giannotto,
who had often seen her in the castle and never recognised her, marvelled not
a little, but nevertheless it at once flashed upon him that 'twas his
mother, and blaming himself for his past inadvertence he took her in his
arms and wept and tenderly kissed her. With gentle solicitude Currado's lady
and Spina came to her aid, and restored her suspended animation with cold
water and other remedies. She then with many tender and endearing words
kissed him a thousand times or more, which tokens of her love he received
with a look of reverential acknowledgment. Thrice, nay a fourth time were
these glad and gracious greetings exchanged, and joyful indeed were they
that witnessed them, and hearkened while mother and son compared their past
adventures. Then Currado, who had already announced his new alliance to his
friends, and received their felicitations proceeded to give order for the
celebration of the event with all becoming gaiety and splendour. As he did
so, Giusfredi said to him:--"Currado, you have long given my mother
honourable entertainment, and on me you have conferred many boons;
wherefore, that you may fill up the measure of your kindness, 'tis now my
prayer that you be pleased to gladden my mother and my marriage feast and me
with the presence of my brother, now in servitude in the house of Messer
Guasparrino d'Oria, who, as I have already told you, made prize of both him
and me; and that then you send some one to Sicily, who shall make himself
thoroughly acquainted with the circumstances and condition of the country,
and find out how it has fared with my father Arrighetto, whether he be alive
or dead, and if alive, in what circumstances, and being thus fully informed,
return to us with the tidings." Currado assented, and forthwith sent most
trusty agents both to Genoa and to Sicily. So in due time an envoy arrived
at Genoa, and made instant suit to Guasparrino on Currado's part for the
surrender of Outcast and the nurse, setting forth in detail all that had
passed between Currado and Giusfredi and his mother. Whereat Messer
Guasparrino was mightily astonished, and said:--"Of a surety there is nought
that, being able, I would not do to pleasure Currado; and, true it is that I
have had in my house for these fourteen years the boy whom thou dost now
demand of me, and his mother, and gladly will I surrender them; but tell
Currado from me to beware of excessive credulity, and to put no faith in the
idle tales of Giannotto, or Giusfredi, as thou sayst he calls himself, who
is by no means so guileless as he supposes."
Then, having provided for the honourable entertainment of the worthy envoy,
he sent privily for the nurse, and cautiously sounded her as to the affair.
The nurse had heard of the revolt of Sicily, and had learned that Arrighetto
was still alive. She therefore banished fear, and told Messer Guasparrino
the whole story, and explained to him the reasons why she had acted as she
had done. Finding that what she said accorded very well with what he had
learned from Currado's envoy, he inclined to credit the story, and most
astutely probing the matter in divers ways, and always finding fresh grounds
for confidence, he reproached himself for the sorry manner in which he had
treated the boy, and by way of amends gave him one of his own daughters, a
beautiful girl of eleven years, to wife with a dowry suited to Arrighetto's
rank, and celebrated their nuptials with great festivity, He then brought
the boy and girl, Currado's envoy, and the nurse in a well-armed galliot to
Lerici, being there met by Currado, who had a castle not far off, where
great preparations had been made for their entertainment: and thither
accordingly he went with his whole company. What cheer the mother had of her
son, the brothers of one another, and all the three of the faithful nurse;
what cheer Messer Guasparrino and his daughter had of all, and all of them,
and what cheer all had of Currado and his lady and their sons and their
friends, words may not describe; wherefore, my ladies, I leave it to your
imagination. And that their joy might be full, God, who, when He gives,
gives most abundantly, added the glad tidings that Arrighetto Capece was
alive and prosperous. For, when in the best of spirits the ladies and
gentlemen had sat them down to feast, and they were yet at the first course,
the envoy from Sicily arrived, and among other matters reported, that, no
sooner had the insurrection broken out in the island than the people hied
them in hot haste to the prison where Arrighetto was kept in confinement by
King Charles, and despatching the guards, brought him forth, and knowing him
to be a capital enemy to King Charles made him their captain, and under his
command fell upon and massacred the French. Whereby he had won the highest
place in the favour of King Peter, who had granted him restitution of all
his estates and honours, so that he was now both prosperous and mighty. The
envoy added that Arrighetto had received him with every token of honour, had
manifested the utmost delight on hearing of his lady and son, of whom no
tidings had reached him since his arrest, and had sent, to bring them home,
a brigantine with some gentlemen aboard, whose arrival might hourly be
expected.
The envoy, and the good news which he brought, were heartily welcome; and
presently Currado, with some of his friends, encountered the gentlemen who
came for Madam Beritola and Giusfredi, and saluting them cordially invited
them to his feast, which was not yet half done. Joy unheard of was depicted
on the faces of the lady, of Giusfredi, and of all the rest as they greeted
them; nor did they on their part take their places at the table before, as
best they might, they had conveyed to Currado and his lady Arrighetto's
greetings and grateful acknowledgments of the honour which they had
conferred upon his lady and his son, and had placed Arrighetto, to the
uttermost of his power, entirely at their service. Then, turning to Messer
Guasparrino, of whose kindness Arrighetto surmised nothing, they said that
they were very sure that, when he learned the boon which Outcast had
received at his hands, he would pay him the like and an even greater tribute
of gratitude. This speech ended, they feasted most joyously with the brides
and bridegrooms. So passed the day, the first of many which Currado devoted
to honouring his son-in-law and his other intimates, both kinsfolk and
friends. The time of festivity ended, Madam Beritola and Giusfredi and the
rest felt that they must leave: so, taking Spina with them, they parted, not
without many tears, from Currado and his lady and Guasparrino, and went
aboard the brigantine, which, wafted by a prosperous wind, soon brought them
to Sicily. At Palermo they were met by Arrighetto, who received them all,
ladies and sons alike, with such cheer as it were vain to attempt to
describe. There it is believed that they all lived long and happily and in
amity with God, being not unmindful of the blessings which He had conferred
upon them.
(1) The largest, now inhabited, of a group of islets in the Gulf of Gaeta.
(2) I.e. she-goat.
(3) Between Liguria and Tuscany.
(4) The Sicilian Vespers, Easter, 1282.