=Cassandrino, a noted robber, and a friend of the prætor of Perugia,
steals the prætor’s bed and his horse Liardo, but afterwards
becomes a man of probity and good repute.=
The wit of man, dear ladies, is so keen and subtle, that one would be
hard set to find a task arduous enough to baffle it. There is, indeed, a
familiar saying of the common people, that a man does what he wishes to
do; and this same proverb it is which has suggested to me the tale I am
about to tell you. Although it is somewhat ridiculous, it may yield you
some pleasure, or even instruction, by demonstrating to you the cunning
of those who are thieves by profession.
In Perugia, an ancient and noble city of Romagna, renowned for its
learning and for sumptuous living, there abode, not very long ago, a
handsome young scapegrace named Cassandrino. So ill was his reputation
with the citizens, on account of his many robberies, that frequent and
lengthy complaints thereanent were made to the prætor by men of all
stations in the city; but this latter, though he rated Cassandrino
soundly for his misdeeds, seemed loath to punish him. Now, though
Cassandrino was, past gainsaying, a thievish knave, he had one virtue
which at least got him credit with the prætor, that is, he did not rob
for the mere love of pelf so much as to be able, now and then, to spend
magnificently and to offer handsome gifts to those who favoured him.
Wherefore, and because he was affable, courteous, and witty, the prætor
looked upon him so kindly that he would rarely let pass a day without
seeing him.
But since Cassandrino persisted in these more or less reprehensible
courses, the prætor was forced to give ear to the complaints which, with
full justice, were laid against him. Being still reluctant to bring the
culprit to justice, on account of the kindly feeling in his heart, he
summoned Cassandrino one day into an inner chamber, and began to
admonish him with friendly words, and to exhort him to have done with
his evil ways, warning him of the perils he was risking thereby.
Cassandrino listened attentively to the prætor’s words, and spake thus
in reply: ‘Sir, I hear and clearly understand the good counsel which
you, of your great courtesy, have given to me, and I know full well that
it springs from the generous affection in which you hold me, and for
which I am most grateful. I am indeed grieved that we should be plagued
with certain foolish people jealous of others’ well-being, and ever
ready to blast their honour with spiteful words. These busybodies, who
bear such tales about me, would do better to keep their venomous tongues
between their teeth than to let them run on to my hurt.’ The prætor,
swayed by his affection for the speaker, needed very little persuasion
to believe Cassandrino’s story and to turn a deaf ear to the plaints of
his ravages made by the citizens. It chanced soon after that
Cassandrino, being a guest at the prætor’s table, told him of a youth
who was so marvellously light-fingered that he could steal anything he
had a mind to, however carefully guarded and protected it might be. The
prætor, when he heard this, laughed and said: ‘Cassandrino, this youth
can be no other than you yourself, for there cannot be another such a
crafty trickster; but, to put you to the test, I will promise you a
hundred golden florins if you succeed to-night in stealing the bed out
of the chamber in which I sleep.’ Cassandrino seemed somewhat disturbed
at these words, and then answered: ‘Sir, you evidently take me for a
thief; but let me tell you I am not one, nor the son of one. I live by
the sweat of my brow, and by my own industry, such as it is, and do for
myself the best I can. But if it be your will to bring me to the gallows
on this score, I will go there gladly for the sake of the regard I have
ever had, and still have, for you.’ After this speech Cassandrino
withdrew, for he was very anxious to humour the prætor’s whim, and he
went about all day cudgelling his brains to devise how he might steal
the prætor’s bed from under him without betraying himself. At last he
hit on the following scheme. A certain doctor of the city had lately
died, and on that very day had been buried in his family vault. After
midnight Cassandrino stole to the burying-place, and, having opened the
vault, drew therefrom the dead body of the doctor by the feet, and,
after he had stripped it, dressed it again in his own clothes, which
fitted so well that anyone would have taken it for Cassandrino and not
for the doctor. He hoisted the corpse upon his shoulders as well as he
could, and, having made his way safely to the palace, he scaled the
roof, with the doctor’s body on his back, by a ladder which he had
provided, and began noiselessly to remove the tiles with an iron
crowbar, finally making a large hole in the ceiling of the room in which
the prætor was sleeping.
The prætor, who was wide awake, heard distinctly all that was going on,
and laughed to himself, though his roof was being pulled to pieces, for
he expected every moment to see Cassandrino enter the room and attempt
to carry off the bed. ‘Ah! Messer Cassandrino,’ he said to himself, ‘you
will not steal my bed to-night.’ But while he was thus chuckling and
expecting the attempt, Cassandrino let fall the dead body of the doctor
through the breach in the ceiling into the prætor’s room. The noise it
made caused him to jump out of bed and light a candle, and then he saw
what he took to be the body of Cassandrino (because it was dressed in
that worthy’s clothes) lying mangled and huddled together on the floor.
When he recognized the garments, he was profoundly grieved, and cried
out, ‘Ah, what a wretched sight is here! To gratify my silly caprice I
have killed this man. What will men say if it be noised abroad that he
met his end in my house? Of a truth one needs to be careful.’ The
prætor, lamenting thus, went to rouse a faithful servant of his, and
having awakened him, told him of the unhappy mischance, and begged him
go dig a hole in the garden and bury therein the dead body, so as to
prevent scandal. Whilst the prætor and his servant were burying the dead
body in the garden, Cassandrino, who had silently watched the prætor’s
movements, as soon as the coast was clear let himself down by a rope,
and having made a parcel of the bed, carried it away with all possible
haste. After he had buried the body, the prætor returned to his room;
but when he prepared to get into bed, no bed was there. He slept little
that night, wherefore he had plenty of time to ponder over the cunning
and dexterity of his friend Cassandrino.
The next day Cassandrino, according to his wont, went to the palace and
presented himself to the prætor, who, as soon as he had set eyes on him,
said: ‘In truth, Cassandrino, you are the very prince of thieves! who
else would have contrived so cunningly to steal my bed?’ Cassandrino was
silent, feigning the utmost astonishment, as if he had had no part in
the affair. ‘You have played an excellent trick upon me,’ the prætor
went on to say, ‘but I must get you to play me yet another, in order
that I may judge how far your ingenuity can carry you. If you can manage
to-night to steal my horse Liardo—the best I ever had—I will give you
another hundred florins, in addition to the hundred I have already
promised you.’ Cassandrino, when he heard of this fresh task which was
put upon him, feigned to be much troubled, and loudly lamented that the
prætor should hold him in such ill repute, begging him at the same time
not to be his ruin. The prætor, deeming that Cassandrino refused assent
to his request, grew angry, and said, ‘Well, if you will not do as I bid
you, look for no other fate than to hang by a halter from the city
wall.’ Cassandrino, who now saw that his case was dangerous, and in no
small measure,[20] replied: ‘I will do all I can to gratify you in what
you ask, but believe me the task you propose is one beyond my power;’
and with these words he departed.
As soon as he was gone, the prætor, who was resolved this time to put
Cassandrino’s ingenuity to no light trial, called one of his servants
and thus addressed him: ‘Go to the stable, and saddle and bridle my
horse Liardo; then mount him, and keep all night on his back, taking
good heed the while that he be not stolen.’ And he gave orders to
another to see that all the doors of the palace were well secured with
bolts. That night Cassandrino took all his implements, and repaired to
the principal gate of the palace, where he found the porter quietly
dozing; but, because he knew well all the secret issues of the place, he
let the porter sleep on, and, making use of another passage, he gained
the courtyard, and thence passed on to the stables, which he found fast
locked. With very little trouble he unfastened the door, and having
opened this, he perceived, to his amazement, that a man was sitting on
the prætor’s favourite horse, with the reins in his hand, but when he
approached he saw the fellow was sound asleep. The crafty rascal, noting
that the sleeping varlet was senseless as a statue, at once hit upon a
plan, clever beyond belief. He carefully measured the height of the
horse, and then stole away into the garden, from whence he brought back
four stout poles, such as are used in supporting vines on a trellis; and
having sharpened them at the ends, he cunningly cut the reins, which the
sleeping servant held in his hand, and the breast-strap, and the girths,
and the crupper, and every other bond which stood in his way. Then,
having fixed one of the poles in the ground, with the upper end
dexterously inserted under one corner of the saddle, he did exactly the
same on the other side, and repeated the operation at the other two
remaining corners. Next he raised the saddle off the horse’s back (the
servant being sound asleep all the while), and let it rest entirely on
the four poles which were firmly fixed in the ground. Then, there being
no obstacle in his way, he haltered the horse and led it off.
The prætor was astir early the next morning, and repaired forthwith to
the stable, where he expected to find his horse all safe; but the sight
which met his eyes was his servant, still sitting fast asleep on the
saddle propped up by four poles. The prætor, having awakened him, loaded
him with abuse, and, half dazed with what he had seen, quitted the
stable and returned to the palace. At the usual hour in the morning
Cassandrino betook himself to the palace, and gave the prætor a merry
salute when he appeared. ‘Cassandrino,’ said the latter, ‘assuredly you
carry off the palm amongst thieves. I may indeed dub you with the title
of “King of the thieves,” but still should like to ascertain whether you
are a man of wit and cleverness. You know, I think, Messer Severino, the
priest of Sangallo, a village hard by. Well, if you bring him here to me
tied up in a sack, I promise to give you as much money again as you have
already earned; but if you fail in this, be sure that I will hang you up
by the neck.’ This Messer Severino was a man of holy life, and of the
best repute, but in no wise experienced in worldly affairs, seeing that
he cared for nought else but the service of his church. Cassandrino,
perceiving that the prætor had set his mind on working him an injury,
said to himself: ‘This man, I plainly see, is bent on doing me to death;
but in this he will find himself mistaken, for I will execute this task
if it is to be done.’ Cassandrino, being thus anxious to do the prætor’s
bidding, cast about how he might play a trick upon the priest which
would serve the purpose he had in view, and ultimately fixed on the
following stratagem. He borrowed from a friend of his a priest’s alb,
long enough to come down to his heels, and a well-broidered stole, and
these he took home to his lodging. Then he got ready a pair of beautiful
wings, painted in divers colours, which he had fashioned out of
pasteboards, and also a diadem of tinsel, which shone radiantly. At
nightfall he stole out of the town with his gewgaws, and went towards
the village where Messer Severino abode, and there he hid himself in a
thicket of sharp thorns, and lay close till the day began to dawn. Then
Cassandrino put on the alb, and the stole round about his neck, and set
the diadem on his head, and fixed the wings on his shoulders. Having
done this, he hid himself again, and stirred not till the time had come
when the priest should go forth to ring the bell for the Ave Maria.
Scarcely had Cassandrino vested himself, when Messer Severino, with his
acolyte, arrived at the church door, which he left open, and went in to
do his morning office. Cassandrino, who was on the watch, saw that the
door of the church was standing open while the good priest was ringing
the bell, crept out of his hiding-place, stole softly into the church,
and, when he had entered, went up to the altar and stood upright,
holding open a large sack in his hands. Next he cried out in a low
chanting voice: ‘Whoever wishes to enter into the joys of paradise, let
him get into this sack;’ and these words he repeated over and over
again. While he was performing this mummery, the acolyte came out of the
sacristy, and, when he saw the snow-white alb, and the diadem shining
brilliant as the sun, and the wings as gorgeous as a peacock’s—to say
nothing of the words he heard—he was altogether amazed; but when he had
somewhat recovered, he went off to find the priest, and said to him:
‘Sir, sir, I have just seen in the church an angel of heaven, holding a
sack in his hands, who said: “Whoever wishes to enter into the joys of
paradise, let him get into this sack;” and I, for my part, have made up
my mind to do as he bids me.’
The priest, who was not over well furnished in the upper storey, gave
full credence to the acolyte’s tale, and, as soon as he had issued from
the sacristy, saw the angel standing there, clad in celestial garb, as
the acolyte had said. Now Messer Severino was powerfully moved by the
angel’s words, and being mightily anxious to get safe to paradise, and
at the same time somewhat in fear lest the clerk should forestall him by
getting first into the sack, made believe to have left his breviary
behind him at his lodging, and said to the acolyte: ‘Go quickly home and
search my chamber diligently, and bring back my breviary which I have
left somewhere.’
And while the acolyte was gone to search for the breviary the priest
approached the angel, making the while a deep reverence, and crept into
the sack. Cassandrino, who was full of sharp cunning and mischief,
seeing that the game was going as he wished, closed the sack’s mouth at
once and tied it firmly. Then he took off the alb, the diadem, and the
wings, and having made a bundle of these and hoisted it, together with
the sack, on his shoulders, he set out for Perugia, where he arrived as
soon as it was clear daylight, and at the accustomed hour presented
himself before the prætor with the sack on his back. Having untied the
mouth, he lugged out Messer Severino, who, finding himself in the
presence of the prætor, and more dead than alive—conscious likewise that
a fool’s trick had been played with him—made a weighty charge against
Cassandrino, crying out at the top of his voice that he had been robbed
and inveigled by craft into the sack, to his great loss and humiliation,
and begging the prætor to make an example of him, nor to let so great a
crime go without severe punishment, so as to give a clear warning to all
other malefactors. The prætor, who had already fathomed the business
from beginning to end, could not contain his laughter, and turning to
Messer Severino thus addressed him: ‘My good father and my friend, say
not another word and do not distress yourself, for you shall never want
any favour, nor fail to have justice done to you; although, as I see
quite clearly, you have just been made the victim of a joke.’ The prætor
had to say and do his best to pacify the good priest, and, having taken
a little packet wherein were several pieces of gold, he gave it to him
and directed that he should be escorted out of the town. Then, turning
to Cassandrino, he said to him: ‘Cassandrino, Cassandrino, of a truth
your knavish deeds outdo your knavish reputation which is spread abroad.
Wherefore, take these four hundred golden florins which I promised you,
because you have fairly gained them, but take care that you bear
yourself more decently in the future than you have borne yourself in the
past, for if I hear any more complaints of your knavish pranks, you
shall certainly be hanged.’
Cassandrino hereupon took the four hundred golden florins, and having
duly thanked the prætor for them, went his way, and with this money he
traded skilfully and successfully, and in time became a man of business
highly respected by all.
The ladies and gentlemen were much pleased with Alteria’s story, and she
being called upon by the Signora gave her enigma in the following terms:
While I my nightly vigil kept,
A man I spied, who softly crept
Adown the hall, whereon I said,
“To bed, Sir Bernard, get to bed.
Two shall undress you, four with care
Shut fast the doors, and eight up there
Shall watch, and bid the rest beware.”
While these deceiving words I said,
The thievish wight in terror fled.
Alteria, seeing that the hour was late and that no one was likely to
solve her riddle, gave this explanation: “A gentleman had gone into the
country with all his household, and had left in his palace an old woman,
who prudently made a practice of going about the house at nightfall to
see if she might espy any thieves, and one evening it chanced that she
saw a robber on a balcony, who watched her through a hole. The good old
woman refrained from crying out, and wisely made believe that her master
was in the house, and a throng of servants as well. So she said: ‘Go to
bed, Messer Bernardo, and let two servants undress you, and four shut
the doors, while eight go upstairs and guard the house.’ And while the
old woman was giving these orders, the thief, fearing to be discovered,
stole away.” When Alteria’s clever riddle had been solved, Cateruzza,
who was seated next to her, remembered that the third story of this
first night was to be told by her, so with a smiling face she began.