--
Paganino da Monaco carries off the wife of Messer Ricciardo di Chinzica,
who, having learned where she is, goes to Paganino and in a friendly manner
asks him to restore her. He consents, provided she be willing. She refuses
to go back with her husband. Messer Ricciardo dies, and she marries
Paganino.
--
Their queen's story, by its beauty, elicited hearty commendation from all
the honourable company, and most especially from Dioneo, with whom it now
rested to conclude the day's narration. Again and again he renewed his
eulogy of the queen's story; and then began on this wise:--
Fair ladies, there is that in the queen's story which has caused me to
change my purpose, and substitute another story for that which I had meant
to tell: I refer to the insensate folly of Bernabo (well though it was with
him in the end) and of all others who delude themselves, as he seemed to do,
with the vain imagination that, while they go about the world, taking their
pleasure now of this, now of the other woman, their wives, left at home,
suffer not their hands to stray from their girdles; as if we who are born of
them and bred among them, could be ignorant of the bent of their desires.
Wherefore, by my story I purpose at one and the same time to shew you how
great is the folly of all such, and how much greater is the folly of those
who, deeming themselves mightier than nature, think by sophistical arguments
to bring that to pass which is beyond their power, and strive might and main
to conform others to their own pattern, however little the nature of the
latter may brook such treatment. Know then that there was in Pisa a judge,
better endowed with mental than with physical vigour, by name Messer
Ricciardo di Chinzica, who, being minded to take a wife, and thinking,
perhaps, to satisfy her by the same resources which served him for his
studies, was to be suited with none that had not both youth and beauty,
qualities which he would rather have eschewed, if he had known how to give
himself as good counsel as he gave to others. However, being very rich, he
had his desire. Messer Lotto Gualandi gave him in marriage one of his
daughters, Bartolomea by name, a maid as fair and fit for amorous dalliance
as any in Pisa, though few maids be there that do not shew as spotted
lizards. The judge brought her home with all pomp and ceremony, and had a
brave and lordly wedding; but in the essay which he made the very first
night to serve her so as to consummate the marriage he made a false move,
and drew the game much to his own disadvantage; for next morning his lean,
withered and scarce animate frame was only to be re-quickened by draughts of
vernaccia,(1) artificial restoratives and the like remedies. So, taking a
more sober estimate of his powers than he had been wont, the worthy judge
began to give his wife lessons from a calendar, which might have served as a
horn-book, and perhaps had been put together at Ravenna(2) inasmuch as,
according to his shewing, there was not a day in the year but was sacred,
not to one saint only, but to many; in honour of whom for divers reasons it
behoved men and women to abstain from carnal intercourse; whereto he added
fast-days, Ember-days, vigils of Apostles and other saints, Friday,
Saturday, Sunday, the whole of Lent, certain lunar mansions, and many other
exceptions, arguing perchance, that the practice of men with women abed
should have its times of vacation no less than the administration of the
law. In this method, which caused the lady grievous dumps, he long
persisted, hardly touching her once a month, and observing her closely, lest
another should give her to know working-days, as he had taught her holidays.
Now it so befell that, one hot season, Messer Ricciardo thought he would
like to visit a very beautiful estate which he had near Monte Nero, there to
take the air and recreate himself for some days, and thither accordingly he
went with his fair lady. While there, to amuse her, he arranged for a day's
fishing; and so, he in one boat with the fishermen, and she in another with
other ladies, they put out to watch the sport, which they found so
delightsome, that almost before they knew where they were they were some
miles out to sea. And while they were thus engrossed with the sport, a
galliot of Paganino da Mare, a very famous corsair of those days, hove in
sight and bore down upon the boats, and, for all the speed they made, came
up with that in which were the ladies; and on sight of the fair lady
Paganino, regardless of all else, bore her off to his galliot before the
very eyes of Messer Ricciardo, who was by this time ashore, and forthwith
was gone. The chagrin of the judge, who was jealous of the very air, may
readily be imagined. But 'twas to no purpose that, both at Pisa and
elsewhere, he moaned and groaned over the wickedness of the corsairs, for he
knew neither by whom his wife had been abducted, nor whither she had been
taken. Paganino, meanwhile, deemed himself lucky to have gotten so beautiful
a prize; and being unmarried, he was minded never to part with her, and
addressed himself by soft words to soothe the sorrow which kept her in a
flood of tears. Finding words of little avail, he at night passed--the more
readily that the calendar had slipped from his girdle, and all feasts and
holidays from his mind--to acts of love, and on this wise administered
consolation so effective that before they were come to Monaco she had
completely forgotten the judge and his canons, and had begun to live with
Paganino as merrily as might be. So he brought her to Monaco, where, besides
the daily and nightly solace which he gave her, he honourably entreated her
as his wife.
Not long afterwards Messer Ricciardo coming to know where his wife was, and
being most ardently desirous to have her back, and thinking none but he
would understand exactly what to do in the circumstances, determined to go
and fetch her himself, being prepared to spend any sum of money that might
be demanded by way of ransom. So he took ship, and being come to Monaco, he
both saw her and was seen by her; which news she communicated to Paganino in
the evening, and told him how she was minded to behave. Next morning Messer
Ricciardo, encountering Paganino, made up to him; and soon assumed a very
familiar and friendly air, while Paganino pretended not to know him, being
on his guard to see what he would be at. So Messer Ricciardo, as soon as he
deemed the time ripe, as best and most delicately he was able, disclosed to
Paganino the business on which he had come, praying him to take whatever in
the way of ransom he chose and restore him the lady. Paganino replied
cheerily:--"Right glad I am to see you here, Sir; and briefly thus I answer
you:--True it is that I have here a young woman; whether she be your wife or
another man's, I know not, for you are none of my acquaintance, nor is she,
except for the short time that she has been with me. If, as you say, you are
her husband, why, as you seem to me to be a pleasant gentleman, I will even
take you to her, and I doubt not she will know you well; if she says that it
is even as you say, and is minded to go with you, you shall give me just
what you like by way of ransom, so pleasant have I found you; otherwise
'twill be churlish in you to think of taking her from me, who am a young
man, and as fit to keep a woman as another, and moreover never knew any
woman so agreeable." "My wife," said Ricciardo, "she is beyond all manner of
doubt, as thou shalt see; for so soon as thou bringest me to her, she will
throw her arms about my neck; wherefore as thou art minded, even so be it; I
ask no more." "Go we then," said Paganino; and forthwith they went into the
house, and Paganino sent for the lady while they waited in one of the halls.
By and by she entered from one of the adjoining rooms all trim and tricked
out, and advanced to the place where Paganino and Messer Ricciardo were
standing, but never a word did she vouchsafe to her husband, any more than
if he had been some stranger whom Paganino had brought into the house.
Whereat the judge was mightily amazed, having expected to be greeted by her
with the heartiest of cheer, and began to ruminate thus:--Perhaps I am so
changed by the melancholy and prolonged heartache, to which I have been a
prey since I lost her, that she does not recognise me. Wherefore he said:--
"Madam, cause enough have I to rue it that I took thee a fishing, for never
yet was known such grief as has been mine since I lost thee; and now it
seems as if thou dost not recognise me, so scant of courtesy is thy
greeting. Seest thou not that I am thy Messer Ricciardo, come hither
prepared to pay whatever this gentleman, in whose house we are, may demand,
that I may have thee back and take thee away with me: and he is so good as
to surrender thee on my own terms?" The lady turned to him with a slight
smile, and said:--"Is it to me you speak, Sir? Bethink you that you may have
mistaken me for another, for I, for my part, do not remember ever to have
seen you." "Nay," said Messer Ricciardo, "but bethink thee what thou sayst;
scan me closely; and if thou wilt but search thy memory, thou wilt find that
I am thy Ricciardo di Chinzica." "Your pardon, Sir," answered the lady,
"'tis not, perhaps, as seemly for me, as you imagine, to gaze long upon you;
but I have gazed long enough to know that I never saw you before." Messer
Ricciardo supposed that she so spoke for fear of Paganino, in whose presence
she durst not acknowledge that she knew him: so, after a while, he craved as
a favour of Paganino that he might speak with her in a room alone. Which
request Paganino granted, so only that he did not kiss her against her will.
He then bade the lady go with Messer Ricciardo into a room apart, and hear
what he had to say, and give him such answer as she deemed meet. So the lady
and Messer Ricciardo went together into a room alone, and sate down, and
Messer Ricciardo began on this wise:--"Ah! dear heart of me, sweet soul of
me, hope of me, dost not recognise thy Ricciardo that loves thee better than
himself? how comes it thus to pass? am I then so changed? Ah! goodly eye of
me, do but look on me a little." Whereat the lady burst into a laugh, and
interrupting him, said:--"Rest assured that my memory is not so short but
that I know you for what you are, my husband, Messer Ricciardo di Chinzica;
but far enough you shewed yourself to be, while I was with you, from knowing
me for what I was, young, lusty, lively; which, had you been the wise man
you would fain be reputed, you would not have ignored, nor by consequence
that which, besides food and clothing, it behoves men to give young ladies,
albeit for shame they demand it not; which in what sort you gave, you know.
You should not have taken a wife if she was to be less to you than the study
of the law, albeit 'twas never as a judge that I regarded you, but rather as
a bellman of encaenia and saints' days, so well you knew them all, and fasts
and vigils. And I tell you that, had you imposed the observance of as many
saints' days on the labourers that till your lands as on yourself who had
but my little plot to till, you would never have harvested a single grain of
corn. God in His mercy, having regard unto my youth, has caused me to fall
in with this gentleman, with whom I am much closeted in this room, where
nought is known of feasts, such feasts, I mean, as you, more devoted to the
service of God than to the service of ladies, were wont to observe in such
profusion; nor was this threshold ever crossed by Saturday or Friday or
vigil or Ember-days or Lent, that is so long; rather here we are at work day
and night, threshing the wool, and well I know how featly it went when the
matin bell last sounded. Wherefore with him I mean to stay, and to work
while I am young, and postpone the observance of feasts and times of
indulgence and fasts until I am old: so get you hence, and good luck go with
you, but depart with what speed you may, and observe as many feasts as you
like, so I be not with you."
The pain with which Messer Ricciardo followed this outburst was more than he
could bear, and when she had done, he exclaimed:--"Ah! sweet soul of me,
what words are these that thou utterest? Hast thou no care for thy parents'
honour and thine own? Wilt thou remain here to be this man's harlot, and to
live in mortal sin, rather than live with me at Pisa as my wife? Why, when
he is tired of thee, he will cast thee out to thy most grievous dishonour. I
will ever cherish thee, and ever, will I nill I, thou wilt be the mistress
of my house. Wouldst thou, to gratify this unbridled and unseemly passion,
part at once with thy honour and with me, who love thee more dearly than my
very life? Ah! cherished hope of me, say not so again: make up thy mind to
come with me. As I now know thy bent, I will henceforth constrain myself to
pleasure thee: wherefore, sweet my treasure, think better of it, and come
with me, who have never known a happy hour since thou wert reft from me."
The lady answered:--"I expect not, nor is it possible, that another should
be more tender of my honour than I am myself. Were my parents so, when they
gave me to you? I trow not; nor mean I to be more tender of their honour now
than they were then of mine. And if now I live in mortar sin, I will ever
abide there until it be pestle sin:(3) concern yourself no further on my
account. Moreover, let me tell you, that, whereas at Pisa 'twas as if I were
your harlot, seeing that the planets in conjunction according to lunar
mansion and geometric square intervened between you and me, here with
Paganino I deem myself a wife, for he holds me in his arms all night long
and hugs and bites me, and how he serves me, God be my witness. Ah! but you
say you will constrain yourself to serve me: to what end? to do it on the
third essay, and raise it by stroke of baton? I doubt not you are become a
perfect knight since last I saw you. Begone, and constrain yourself to live;
for here, methinks, your tenure is but precarious, so hectic and wasted is
your appearance. Nay more; I tell you this, that, should Paganino desert me
(which he does not seem disposed to do so long as I am willing to stay with
him), never will I return to your house, where for one while I staid to my
most grievous loss and prejudice, but will seek my commodity elsewhere, than
with one from whose whole body I could not wring a single cupful of sap. So,
again, I tell you that here is neither feast nor vigil; wherefore here I
mean to abide; and you, get you gone, in God's name with what speed you may,
lest I raise the cry that you threaten to violate me."
Messer Ricciardo felt himself hard bested, but he could not but recognise
that, worn out as he was, he had been foolish to take a young wife; so sad
and woebegone he quitted the room, and, after expending on Paganino a wealth
of words which signified nothing, he at last gave up his bootless
enterprise, and leaving the lady to her own devices, returned to Pisa; where
for very grief he lapsed into such utter imbecility that, when he was met by
any with greeting or question in the street, he made no other answer than
"the evil hole brooks no holiday," and soon afterwards died. Which when
Paganino learned, being well assured of the love the lady bore him, he made
her his lawful wife; and so, keeping neither feast nor vigil nor Lent, they
worked as hard as their legs permitted, and had a good time. Wherefore, dear
my ladies, I am of opinion that Messer Bernabo in his altercation with
Ambrogiuolo rode the goat downhill.(4)
(1) A strong white wine.
(2) The saying went, that owing to the multitude of churches at Ravenna
every day was there a saint's day.
(3) A poor jeu de mots, mortaio, mortar, being substituted for mortale.
(4) I.e. argued preposterously, the goat being the last animal to carry a
rider comfortably downhill.
This story provoked so much laughter that the jaws of every one in the
company ached; and all the ladies by common consent acknowledged that Dioneo
was right, and pronounced Bernabo a blockhead. But when the story was ended
and the laughter had subsided, the queen, observing that the hour was now
late, and that with the completion of the day's story-telling the end of her
sovereignty was come, followed the example of her predecessor, and took off
her wreath and set it on Neifile's brow, saying with gladsome mien, "Now,
dear gossip, thine be the sovereignty of this little people;" and so she
resumed her seat. Neifile coloured somewhat to receive such honour, shewing
of aspect even as the fresh-blown rose of April or May in the radiance of
the dawn, her eyes rather downcast, and glowing with love's fire like the
morning-star. But when the respectful murmur, by which the rest of the
company gave blithe token of the favour in which they held their queen, was
hushed, and her courage revived, she raised herself somewhat more in her
seat than she was wont, and thus spoke:--"As so it is that I am your queen,
I purpose not to depart from the usage observed by my predecessors, whose
rule has commanded not only your obedience but your approbation. I will
therefore in few words explain to you the course which, if it commend itself
to your wisdom, we will follow. To-morrow, you know, is Friday, and the next
day Saturday, days which most folk find somewhat wearisome by reason of the
viands which are then customary, to say nothing of the reverence in which
Friday is meet to be held, seeing that 'twas on that day that He who died
for us bore His passion; wherefore 'twould be in my judgment both right and
very seemly, if, in honour of God, we then bade story-telling give place to
prayer. On Saturday ladies are wont to wash the head, and rid their persons
of whatever of dust or other soilure they may have gathered by the labours
of the past week; not a few, likewise, are wont to practise abstinence for
devotion to the Virgin Mother of the Son of God, and to honour the
approaching Sunday by an entire surcease from work. Wherefore, as we cannot
then completely carry out our plan of life, we shall, I think, do well to
intermit our story-telling on that day also. We shall then have been here
four days; and lest we should be surprised by new-comers, I deem it
expedient that we shift our quarters, and I have already taken thought for
our next place of sojourn. Where, being arrived on Sunday, we will assemble
after our sleep; and, whereas to-day our discourse has had an ample field to
range in, I propose, both because you will thereby have more time for
thought, and it will be best to set some limits to the license of our
story-telling, that of the many diversities of Fortune's handiwork we make
one our theme, whereof I have also made choice, to wit, the luck of such as
have painfully acquired some much-coveted thing, or having lost, have
recovered it. Whereon let each meditate some matter, which to tell may be
profitable or at least delectable to the company, saving always Dioneo's
privilege." All applauded the queen's speech and plan, to which, therefore,
it was decided to give effect. Thereupon the queen called her seneschal,
told him where to place the tables that evening, and then explained to him
all that he had to do during the time of her sovereignty. This done, she
rose with her train, and gave leave to all to take their pleasure as to each
might seem best. So the ladies and the men hied them away to a little
garden, where they diverted themselves a while; then supper-time being come,
they supped with all gay and festal cheer. When they were risen from the
table, Emilia, at the queen's command, led the dance, while Pampinea, the
other ladies responding, sang the ensuing song.
Shall any lady sing, if I not sing,
I to whom Love did full contentment bring?
Come hither, Love, thou cause of all my joy,
Of all my hope, and all its sequel blest,
And with me tune the lay,
No more to sighs and bitter past annoy,
That now but serve to lend thy bliss more zest;
But to that fire's clear ray,
Wherewith enwrapt I blithely live and gay,
Thee as my God for ever worshipping.
'Twas thou, O Love, didst set before mine eyes,
When first thy fire my soul did penetrate,
A youth to be my fere,
So fair, so fit for deeds of high emprise,
That ne'er another shall be found more great,
Nay, nor, I ween, his peer:
Such flame he kindled that my heart's full cheer
I now pour out in chant with thee, my King.
And that wherein I most delight is this,
That as I love him, so he loveth me:
So thank thee, Love, I must.
For whatsoe'er this world can yield of bliss
Is mine, and in the next at peace to be
I hope through that full trust
I place in him. And thou, O God, that dost
It see, wilt grant of joy thy plenishing.
Some other songs and dances followed, to the accompaniment of divers sorts
of music; after which, the queen deeming it time to go to rest, all,
following in the wake of the torches, sought their several chambers. The
next two days they devoted to the duties to which the queen had adverted,
looking forward to the Sunday with eager expectancy.
--
Endeth here the second day of the Decameron, beginneth the third, in which,
under the rule of Neifile, discourse is had of the fortune of such as have
painfully acquired some much-coveted thing, or, having lost, have recovered
it.
--
The dawn of Sunday was already changing from vermilion to orange, as the sun
hasted to the horizon, when the queen rose and roused all the company. The
seneschal had early sent forward to their next place of sojourn ample store
of things meet with folk to make all things ready, and now seeing the queen
on the road, and the decampment, as it were, begun, he hastily completed the
equipment of the baggage-train, and set off therewith, attended by the rest
of the servants, in rear of the ladies and gentlemen. So, to the chant of,
perhaps, a score of nightingales and other birds, the queen, her ladies and
the three young men trooping beside or after her, paced leisurely westward
by a path little frequented and overgrown with herbage and flowers, which,
as they caught the sunlight, began one and all to unfold their petals. So
fared she on with her train, while the quirk and the jest and the laugh
passed from mouth to mouth; nor had they completed more than two thousand
paces when, well before half tierce,(1) they arrived at a palace most fair
and sumptuous, which stood out somewhat from the plain, being situate upon a
low eminence. On entering, they first traversed its great halls and dainty
chambers furnished throughout with all brave and meet appointments; and
finding all most commendable, they reputed its lord a magnifico. Then
descending, they surveyed its spacious and cheerful court, its vaults of
excellent wines and copious springs of most cool water, and found it still
more commendable. After which, being fain of rest, they sat them down in a
gallery which commanded the court, and was close imbosked with leafage and
such flowers as the season afforded, and thither the discreet seneschal
brought comfits and wines most choice and excellent, wherewith they were
refreshed. Whereupon they hied them to a walled garden adjoining the palace;
which, the gate being opened, they entered, and wonder-struck by the beauty
of the whole passed on to examine more attentively the several parts. It was
bordered and traversed in many parts by alleys, each very wide and straight
as an arrow and roofed in with trellis of vines, which gave good promise of
bearing clusters that year, and, being all in flower, dispersed such
fragrance throughout the garden as blended with that exhaled by many another
plant that grew therein made the garden seem redolent of all the spices that
ever grew in the East. The sides of the alleys were all, as it were, walled
in with roses white and red and jasmine; insomuch that there was no part of
the garden but one might walk there not merely in the morning but at high
noon in grateful shade and fragrance, completely screened from the sun. As
for the plants that were in the garden, 'twere long to enumerate them, to
specify their sorts, to describe the order of their arrangement; enough, in
brief, that there was abundance of every rarer species that our climate
allows. In the middle of the garden, a thing not less but much more to be
commended than aught else, was a lawn of the finest turf, and so green that
it seemed almost black, pranked with flowers of, perhaps, a thousand sorts,
and girt about with the richest living verdure of orange-trees and cedars,
which shewed not only flowers but fruits both new and old, and were no less
grateful to the smell by their fragrance than to the eye by their shade. In
the middle of the lawn was a basin of whitest marble, graven with marvellous
art; in the centre whereof--whether the spring were natural or artificial I
know not--rose a column supporting a figure which sent forth a jet of water
of such volume and to such an altitude that it fell, not without a delicious
plash, into the basin in quantity amply sufficient to turn a mill-wheel. The
overflow was carried away from the lawn by a hidden conduit, and then,
reemerging, was distributed through tiny channels, very fair and cunningly
contrived, in such sort as to flow round the entire lawn, and by similar
derivative channels to penetrate almost every part of the fair garden,
until, re-uniting at a certain point, it issued thence, and, clear as
crystal, slid down towards the plain, turning by the way two mill-wheels
with extreme velocity to the no small profit of the lord. The aspect of this
garden, its fair order, the plants and the fountain and the rivulets that
flowed from it, so charmed the ladies and the three young men that with one
accord they affirmed that they knew not how it could receive any accession
of beauty, or what other form could be given to Paradise, if it were to be
planted on earth. So, excellently well pleased, they roved about it,
plucking sprays from the trees, and weaving them into the fairest of
garlands, while songsters of, perhaps, a score of different sorts warbled as
if in mutual emulation, when suddenly a sight as fair and delightsome as
novel, which, engrossed by the other beauties of the place, they had
hitherto overlooked, met their eyes. For the garden, they now saw, was
peopled with a host of living creatures, fair and of, perhaps, a hundred
sorts; and they pointed out to one another how here emerged a cony, or there
scampered a hare, or couched a goat, or grazed a fawn, or many another
harmless, all but domesticated, creature roved carelessly seeking his
pleasure at his own sweet will. All which served immensely to reinforce
their already abundant delight. At length, however, they had enough of
wandering about the garden and observing this thing and that: wherefore they
repaired to the beautiful fountain, around which were ranged the tables, and
there, after they had sung half-a-dozen songs and trod some measures, they
sat them down, at the queen's command, to breakfast, which was served with
all celerity and in fair and orderly manner, the viands being both good and
delicate; whereby their spirits rose, and up they got, and betook themselves
again to music and song and dance, and so sped the hours, until, as the heat
increased, the queen deemed it time that whoso was so minded should go to
sleep. Some there were that did so; others were too charmed by the beauty of
the place to think of leaving it; but tarried there, and, while the rest
slept, amused themselves with reading romances or playing at chess or dice.
However, after none, there was a general levee; and, with faces laved and
refreshed with cold water, they gathered by the queen's command upon the
lawn, and, having sat them down in their wonted order by the fountain,
waited for the story-telling to begin upon the theme assigned by the queen.
With this duty the queen first charged Filostrato, who began on this wise.
(1) I.e. midway between prime and tierce, about 7:30 a.m.