=Madonna Modesta, wife of Messer Tristano Zanchetto, in her young days
gathers together a great number of shoes, offerings made by her
various lovers. Having grown old, she disposes of the same to
divers servants, varlets, and other folk of mean estate.=
It commonly happens that ill-gotten wealth, and indeed all riches which
have been acquired by evil ways, are scattered abroad and dissipated in
brief space of time, for by the divine will it has been decreed that,
quickly as such riches come, quickly they shall depart. This, indeed,
proved to be the case with a certain woman of Pistoia, who, had she been
honest and wise in the same degree as she was dissolute and foolish,
would never have given occasion for the story which I am now about to
tell to you. And although perhaps this fable of mine is one hardly
suitable for your ears, forasmuch as it comes to an end in a picture of
shame and dishonour, which obscures and tarnishes the fame of those who
live honest lives, nevertheless I will not hesitate to relate it to you,
for at the right time and place it may serve (I speak here to those to
whom it may apply) as a useful incentive for all to pursue the ways of
uprightness and well-doing, and to eschew all wicked courses and lewd
inclinations.
I must first tell this worshipful company that, not far from these our
days, there lived in Pistoia, an ancient city of Tuscany, a young woman
called by name Madonna Modesta, but this name, on account of her
reprehensible manner of life and the shameful courses she followed, was
one in no wise befitting her. In person, indeed, this woman was very
lovely and graceful, though she was of mean condition.
She had a husband called Tristano Zanchetto[51] (a name as well suited
to him as his wife’s was unfitting to her), a good-tempered fellow,
given to merry company, and thinking of little else save of his business
of buying and selling, whereby he gained a good living for himself.
Madonna Modesta, who was by nature of a lecherous temper, and inclined
for nought else but amorous sport, when she saw that her husband was
given up heart and soul to commerce, and careful only about the matters
appertaining thereto, took it into her head that she too would embark in
merchandise and set up a new trade, concerning which her husband, Messer
Tristano, should know nothing.
Wherefore every day she was wont to go out upon the balcony for her
amusement, now on one side, now on the other, and throw glances at any
gallant who might be passing in the street, and when her eye might
chance to fall upon anyone whose appearance pleased her, she would
strive by divers suggestive signs and gestures to arouse his curiosity
and desire, and to lure him to her. And in the course of time it proved
that Madonna Modesta had no mean skill in the art of traffic; indeed, so
diligent was she in the display of her merchandise, and so carefully did
she attend to the needs of her customers, that there was to be found in
all the city no one, rich or poor, noble or plebeian, who was not
anxious to take and taste of her goods. When, therefore, Madonna Modesta
had attained a position of great notoriety in her calling, and had
gathered together much wealth thereby, she made up her mind to exact
only a very small guerdon from anyone who might come to her as a
claimant for her favours. That is to say, she made it her custom to
demand from her lovers no greater reward than a pair of shoes,
stipulating, however, that each one should give shoes of a sort such as
he might in an ordinary way wear himself. Thus, if the lover who had
been with her happened to be a noble, she would expect from him a pair
of velvet shoes; if a burgher, she would ask for a pair of shoes made of
fine cloth; if a mechanic, a pair made of leather. So great a concourse
of clients flocked to this good woman’s place of business that it was
rarely or never empty, and seeing that she was young and beautiful and
of fine figure, seeing likewise that the price which she demanded for
her favours was such a modest one, all the men of Pistoia freely
repaired to her house and took their pleasure therein. At the time of
which I am writing, Madonna Modesta had already filled a very large
storehouse with shoes, the wealth she had gathered together in her
tender amorous calling, and so mighty was the tale of shoes of every
sort and quality, that if any man here in Venice had searched diligently
every shop in the city he would not have found a third part of the
number of shoes which Madonna Modesta had heaped up in her storehouse.
It happened one day that Messer Tristano her husband had need to use
this same storehouse for the stowing away of certain chattels and
merchandise which by chance had been consigned to him at the same time
from divers parts of the world; so, having called Madonna Modesta his
beloved wife, he asked her to hand over to him the keys of the
warehouse. And she, like the crafty jade that she was, presented them to
him without excuse of any sort; and the husband, when he opened the
storehouse, which he expected would be empty, found it quite full of
shoes (as has already been told) of divers qualities. When he saw this
he was mightily astonished thereat, and could in no wise understand
whence had come this great quantity of shoes of all sorts; so, having
called his wife, he put a question to her as to where these shoes with
which his warehouse was filled had come from. To this the astute Madonna
Modesta answered in these words: ‘What think you of this, good Messer
Tristano my husband? Did you in sooth set yourself down as the only
merchant in this city? Certes, if you did, you were hugely mistaken, for
be sure that we women likewise know somewhat concerning the art of
traffic; and, although you may be a great merchant, accustomed to
concern yourself with many and weighty ventures, I content myself with
commerce on a smaller scale. Wherefore I have stored my merchandise in
this warehouse, and put it safely under lock and key in order that it
may be kept secure. So I beg you to keep your care and watchfulness for
the benefit of your own goods and your own traffic, and I will do the
same with regard to mine.’ Messer Tristano, who knew nothing more than
what his wife told him, and asked no further questions, was gratified
amain with the exceeding ingenuity and great foresight of his clever and
far-seeing wife, and besought her to prosecute with diligence the
enterprise she had undertaken. Madonna Modesta therefore continued in
secret to carry on her amorous trade, and, as in the exercise thereof
she prospered mightily, she gathered together so vast a store of shoes
that she could have easily supplied the wants not only of Pistoia, but
of any other great city as well.
Thus whilst Madonna Modesta remained young and full of grace and beauty
her trade showed no sign of falling off. But in the process of years
cruel Time, the master of all things and all men, who fixes ever a
beginning, a middle, and an end for all, so dealt with Madonna Modesta,
who had been heretofore fresh and plump and lovely, that he changed the
semblance of her face, and of her hair[52] likewise—leaving her desire
unsubdued the while—and traced many wrinkles upon her forehead, and
disfigured her countenance. Her eyes became rheumy and her breasts all
dry and empty as shrivelled bladders, and whenever she happened to smile
the skin of her face became so puckered that anyone who looked at her
was fain to laugh and hold her in ridicule. And when the time came that
Madonna Modesta was grown old and grey-headed, and lovers no longer
sought her to pay court to her as formerly, she found that she added no
more shoes to her store, and she lamented bitterly in her heart
thereanent. From the first years of her youth until the present hour she
had given herself over entirely to the vice of luxury, the destructive
enemy of the body and of the purse as well, and she had likewise become
more accustomed to dainty living and libidinous life than any other
woman in the world, therefore she could find no method or means by which
she might withdraw herself from these noxious ways. And although in her
body, from day to day, the vital fluid, through which all plants and
living things take root and grow, failed more and more, nevertheless the
desire of satisfying her wicked and unrestrained appetite was as violent
as ever. Therefore Madonna Modesta, seeing that she was entirely bereft
of youthful beauty, and was no longer one to be flattered and caressed
by handsome young gallants as in former days, made up her mind to order
her plans anew. For the furtherance of these she once more went out upon
the balcony, and began to ogle and to spread her lures to catch any
varlets or porters or peasants or chimney-sweepers or idle fellows of
any sort, who might be passing by, and any of these whom she might
attract she would entice into her house for her own purposes, and with
them take such pleasure as she had hitherto been wont to take. And as in
times past she had always demanded from each one of her lovers a pair of
shoes of a quality according with the donor’s condition as the reward
for her favours granted, now, on the other hand, she found herself
obliged to give a pair of shoes from her stock to anyone who would come
to her. Madonna Modesta had now sunk into such a shameful state that all
the lowest ruffians of Pistoia would betake themselves to her dwelling,
some to have their pleasure of her, others to make mock of her and to
befool her, and others to receive the disgraceful guerdon which she was
wont to give.
In this manner of life pursued by Madonna Modesta, it came to pass that
the storehouse, which had once been crammed full of shoes, became
wellnigh void. Messer Tristano one day, having a mind to go by stealth
and see how his wife was prospering in her commerce, and whether her
store of merchandise was increasing, took the key of the warehouse
without his wife’s knowledge and opened the door, only to find, when he
looked in, that nearly all the shoes were gone. Wherefore Messer
Tristano was beyond measure amazed, for he could not understand how his
wife could have disposed of the many pairs of shoes he had formerly seen
there. On this account he began to fancy that by this time his wife
must, as it were, be made of gold by reason of her prosperous traffic,
and he felt himself mightily consoled at the thought; for he deemed that
he might hereafter be a sharer in her wealth. So he straightway called
her to him and thus addressed her: ‘Modesta, I have always rated you as
a wise and prudent woman, but this day I chanced to open your
storehouse, wishing to see how your commerce was thriving, and deeming
that by this time your stock of shoes must have greatly increased, but I
found, instead of any increase, that your wares had nearly all
disappeared. At first I was mightily astonished thereat, but afterwards
it came into my mind that you must have trafficked them away and
received therefor a great sum of money, whereupon I was greatly
reassured, and if this notion of mine should prove to be correct I shall
hold that you have traded at great profit.’
Madonna Modesta, when her husband had finished his speech, heaved a deep
sigh and thus made answer to him: ‘Messer Tristano, my husband, do not
be amazed at what you have lately seen, for I must tell you that all
those shoes you saw some long time ago in my warehouse, have walked away
in the same fashion in which they came to me. And over and above this
let me tell you that those things which are ill got will, for the most
part, ill go in a very brief space of time. Therefore I bid you once
more not to wonder or be surprised at what you have seen.’ Messer
Tristano, who did not in any way fathom the meaning of his wife’s words,
fell into a great state of fright and confusion, fearing hugely lest a
similar mischance might befall the goods and merchandise he himself had
collected. However, he forbore to discuss the matter with her farther,
but bestirred himself anxiously to see that his own merchandise might
not vanish as his wife’s had vanished.
Madonna Modesta finding herself now slighted by men of all sorts and
conditions, and entirely beggared of all the shoes she had gained in the
course of her lecherous youth, fell into a grave malady, and in a very
brief space of time died miserably of consumption. And in this manner
Madonna Modesta, who took so little heed for the future, made a shameful
end of her life and also of the possessions she had gathered together,
leaving nothing behind her to serve as an example to the rest of the
world, but rather a disgraceful memory.
When the Signora had ended her short fable all the company began to
laugh aloud, and heaped abundant blame upon Madonna Modesta, who lived
moderately enough in all things save only in the matter of lecherous
indulgence. And again they could not help laughing when they recalled to
mind the story of the shoes which were so easily got and so easily
spent. But because it was on Cateruzza’s account that the Trevisan had
urged the Signora to tell this fable, the latter now began to spur on
the damsel with words which, though gently spoken, had a sting therein,
and afterwards, as a penalty for having failed to tell her fable,
expressly commanded Cateruzza to propound an enigma which should not be
irrelevant to the subject of the fable they had just heard. Whereupon
Cateruzza, when she heard the command of the Signora, rose from her
seat, and turning herself towards her spake thus: “Dear Signora, the
biting rebukes which you have just addressed to me are not in any way
displeasing to me; on the contrary, I gladly take them home to myself
with my whole heart. But the task of making my enigma agree in some
measure with the fable you have just told us is no light one, seeing
that I am entirely unprepared. Since, however, it pleases you to punish
in this fashion my fault, if indeed it be a fault, I, as an obedient
girl and your most complaisant handmaiden, will begin at once.
My lady seats her in a chair,
And raises then her skirt with care;
And as I know she waits for me,
I bring her what she fain would see.
Then soft I lift her dainty leg,
Whereon she cries, ‘Hold, hold, I beg!
It is too strait, and eke too small;
Be gentle, or you’ll ruin all.’
And so to give her smallest pain,
I try once more, and eke again.”
The enigma told by Cateruzza provoked as great laughter as the ingenious
fable which the Signora had recently given; but, for the reason that
certain of the listeners put thereupon a somewhat lewd interpretation,
she set herself at once to make the honesty of her intent clear to them
in as civil terms as she could use: “Noble ladies, the real subject of
my enigma is nothing greater or less than a tight shoe; for when the
lady has sat down, the shoemaker, with the shoe in his hand, raises her
foot, whereupon she tells him to put the shoe on gently, as it is too
tight, and causes her much pain. Then he takes it off and puts it on
again and again till it fits her well, and she is content therewith.”
When the explication of Cateruzza’s enigma had been brought to an end
and highly praised by the whole company, the Signora, seeing that the
hour was now late, gave order that under pain of her displeasure no one
should leave the place, and, having bidden them summon into her presence
the trusty steward of the household, she directed him to set out the
tables in the great hall. And while the feast was in course of
preparation she proposed that the ladies and gentlemen should divert
themselves with the dance, and, after the dancing was finished, they
sang two songs. Then the Signora rose to her feet and went into the
supper room, having the Signor Ambassador on one hand and Messer Pietro
Bembo on the other, the rest of the company following in their due
order. And when they had all washed their hands, each one sat down
according to his rank at the table, which was richly spread with rare
and delicate dishes and new wines. When this merry feast had come to end
amidst the loving discourse of the guests, each one being in blither
mood than ever, they rose from the board and forthwith began to sing and
dance in a circle. But forasmuch as the rosy light of dawn was now
beginning to appear, the Signora bade the servants to kindle the torches
and go in attendance on the Signor Ambassador as far as the steps,
having first begged him and all the others to return to the
meeting-place at the appointed hour.
=The End of the Fifth Night.=
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
-----
Footnote 1:
“Istoria della volgar poesia” (Ven. 1731).
Footnote 2:
In 1556 the two parts were first issued bearing the same date, but
with a different title-page.
Footnote 3:
To add to the confusion, the English translator of Grimm gives
“stories” as the equivalent for “Märchen.”
Footnote 4:
M. Jannet in his preface to the “Facétieuses Nuits de Straparole”
(Paris, 1857), says he has not been able to find a copy of this work
in any library. There is one in the British Museum, under the title,
“Opera nova da Zoan Francesco Streparola da Caravazo novamēte stampata
Sonetti CXV., Strabotti XXXV., Epistole VII., Capitoli XII.” (Ven.
1508, per Georgio de Ruschoni).
Footnote 5:
The “Decameron” did not reach its sixteenth edition till fifty years
after its first publication.
Footnote 6:
In his introduction to the recent edition of Painter, Mr. Joseph
Jacobs cites the presence of this fable as an argument that Painter
must occasionally have translated directly from the Italian. There is
no reason, however, why he should not have used Louveau’s work.
Footnote 7:
It was published with seven other stories in a volume, “Novelle otto
rarissime stampate a spese de Signor Giacomo conte de Clambrassil, J.
Stanley, et Wogan Browne. Londra, Giacomo Edwards, 1790.”
Footnote 8:
Brackelmann says that it was a selection from the first six nights,
while Grimm maintains that it contains the whole of these, and Grimm’s
English translator says that it “only contains six stories.” In fact,
it is made up chiefly of the contents of the first six nights, but in
addition to these it contains fables from Nights VII., VIII., and
XIII. It would appear that neither Dunlop nor Schmidt knew of the
existence of this work.
Footnote 9:
Night IV., Fable I.; Night IV., Fable III.; Night V., Fable III., and
Night XII., Fable III.
Footnote 10:
Night V., Fable I.
Footnote 11:
In the National Gallery.
Footnote 12:
_Di che le donne, et parimente gli huomini fecero si gran risa che
ancora ridono._
Footnote 13:
Night VII., Fable II.
Footnote 14:
Night IV., Fable V.
Footnote 15:
Night VIII., Fable V.
Footnote 16:
Night X., Fable IV.
Footnote 17:
Night VII., Fable I.
Footnote 18:
“Die XIII. nächtlichen Erzählungen sammt den Logogryphen welche
Argellati, ‘ingeniosissime conflata quamvis parum pudice,’ nennt
wurden zu Rom durch das Decret vom 16ten Dec. 1605, einigen darin
enthaltenen unzüchtigen Stellen wegen verbothen” (preface to Vienna
translation, 1791). The book must have been condemned by the index
some time before this, as the issue of 1604, Ven., “con licenza de’
Superiori” is rigorously castrated.
Footnote 19:
“Ma ben holle fedelmente scritte secondo il modo, che furono da dieci
damigelle nel concistorio raccontate.”—STRAPAROLA, _Introduction to
Book II_.
Footnote 20:
Orig., _ed importar altro, che finocchi_.
Footnote 21:
Orig., _altrimenti si guasterebbe la coda al fasiano_.
Footnote 22:
Orig., _cominciorono macinare à raccolta_.
Footnote 23:
Orig., _essendo da suoi servi senza pettine oltra modo carminato_.
Footnote 24:
Orig., _infilzar perle al scuro_.
Footnote 25:
Orig., _gli troncò la strada_.
Footnote 26:
Orig., _tra se stesso se radeva_.
Footnote 27:
Orig., _che se io potrò rendervi il contra cambio non starò a
dormire_.
Footnote 28:
Orig., _credonsi signare il fronte à se stessi cavano gli occhi_.
Footnote 29:
Orig., _pane per schiacciata_.
Footnote 30:
Orig., _le renderò gnanf per gnaf_.
Footnote 31:
Orig., _stento per non stentare_.
Footnote 32:
Orig., _cuocersi nel suo unto_.
Footnote 33:
Pietro Bembo.
Footnote 34:
Told in the dialect of Bergamo.
Footnote 35:
Orig., _e ixi romà co li ma pieni de moschi_.
Footnote 36:
Orig., _con sarevef à di tre penduletti sgonfi de dre_.
Footnote 37:
_i.e._, a famished wolf.
Footnote 38:
Orig., _anch ella no tira le calzi_.
Footnote 39:
Orig., _e dal dichg al fahg se fe le nozzi_.
Footnote 40:
Orig., _una mostazzada si fatta in sol mostaz, che la fe andà
d’inturem_.
Footnote 41:
Orig., _e fag una pellizza de tanti bastonadi, quanti la ne pos mai
portà, e la lassà quasi per morta_.
Footnote 42:
Orig., _che ti romagnis con le ma pieni de moschi_.
Footnote 43:
Orig., _picegamort_.
Footnote 44:
Orig., _anda a segonda_.
Footnote 45:
Orig., _se n’anda a parla a Pilat_.
Footnote 46:
Orig., _schiffare tal scoglio_.
Footnote 47:
Told in the dialect of Treviso.
Footnote 48:
Orig., _chi mal balla, ben solazza_.
Footnote 49:
Orig., _V’ande laldando, e lavando la bocca di fatti nuostri_,.
Footnote 50:
Orig., _in prima el se spellatava con la chiozza_.
Footnote 51:
_Zanchetto_, _zannetto_, a buffoon, a zany.
Footnote 52:
Orig., _e mutò le usate penne_. The use of _penne_ or _piume_ for
_capelli_ is not uncommon. Thus in Dante, “Che riavesse le maschile
penne” (_Inferno_, xx.); “Movendo quell’ oneste piume” (_Purgatorio_,
i.).
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