Well then (quoth _Bruno_) I will take the paines to go to _Florence_,

to provide all things necessarie for this secret service; but I must

bee furnished with money to effect it. _Calandrino_ had some forty

shillings then about him, which he delivered to _Bruno_, who presently

went to _Florence_, to a frend of his an Apothecarie, of whom he

bought a pound of white Ginger, which hee caused him to make uppe

in small Pilles: and two other beside of a Dogges-dates or Dowsets,

confected all over with strong Aloes, yet well moulded in Sugare,

as all the rest were: and because they should the more easily bee

knowne from the other, they were spotted with Gold, in verie formall

and Physicall manner. He bought moreover, a big Flaggon of the best

Malmesey, returning backe with all these things to _Calandrino_, and

directing him in this order.

You must put some friend in trust, to invite your Neighbours (especially

such as you suspect) to a breakfast in the morning: and because it is

done as a feast in kindnesse, they will come to you the more willingly.

This night will I and _Buffalmaco_ take such order, that the Pilles

shall have the charge imposed on them, and then wee will bring them

hither againe in the morning: and I my selfe (for your sake) will

deliver them to your guests, and performe whatsoever is to bee sayde

or done. On the next morning, a goodly company being assembled, under

a faire Elme before the Church; as well young _Florentynes_ (who

purposely came to make themselves merry) as neighbouring Husbandmen

of the Village: _Bruno_ was to begin the service, with the Pils in a

faire Cup, and _Buffalmaco_ followed him with another Cup, to deliver

the wine out of the Flaggon, all the company beeing set round, as in

a circle; and _Bruno_ with _Buffalmaco_ being in the midst of them,

_Bruno_ thus spake.

Honest friends, it is fit that I should acquaint you with the occasion,

why we are thus met together, and in this place: because if anie thing

may seeme offensive to you; afterward you shall make no complaint of

me. From _Calandrino_ (our loving friend heere present) yesternight

there was a new-kild fat Brawne taken, but who hath done the deede,

as yet he knoweth not; and because none other, but some one (or more)

heere among us, must needs offend in this case: he, desiring to

understand who they be, would have each man to receive one of these

Pilles, and afterward to drinke of this Wine; assuring you all, that

whosoever stole the Brawne hence, cannot be able to swallow the Pill:

for it will be so extreme bitter in his mouth, as it will enforce him

to Coughe and spet extraordinarily. In which respect, before such a

notorious shame be received, and in so goodly an assembly, as now

are heere present: it were much better for him or them that have the

Brawne, to confesse it in private to this honest Priest, and I will

abstaine from urging anie such publike proofe.

Every one there present answered, that they were well contented both to

eate and drinke, and let the shame fall where it deserved; whereupon,

_Bruno_ appointing them how they should sit, and placing _Calandrino_

as one among them: he began his counterfeite exorcisme, giving each

man a Pill, and _Buffalmaco_ a Cup of Wine after it. But when he came

to _Calandrino_, hee tooke one of them, which was made of the Dogges

dates or Dowsets, and delivering it into his hand, presently hee put

it into his mouth and chewed it. So soone as his tongue tasted the

bitter Aloes, he began to coughe and spet extreamly, as being utterly

unable, to endure the bitternesse and noysome smell. The other men

that had receyved the Pils, beganne to gaze one upon another, to see

whose behaviour should discover him; and _Bruno_ having not (as yet)

delivered Pils to them all, proceeded on still in his businesse, as

seeming not to heare any coughing, till one behinde him, saide. What

meaneth _Calandrino_ by this spetting and coughing?

_Bruno_ sodainely turning him about, and seeing _Calandrino_ to cough

and spet in such sort, saide to the rest. Be not too rash (honest

Friends) in judging of any man, some other matter (then the Pille) may

procure this Coughing, wherefore he shall receive another, the better to

cleare your beleefe concerning him. He having put the second prepared

Pill into his mouth, while _Bruno_ went to serve the rest of the

Guests: if the first was exceeding bitter to his taste, this other made

it a great deale worse, for teares streamed forth of his eyes as bigge

as Cherry-stones, and champing and chewing the Pill, as hoping it would

overcome his coughing; he coughed and spette the more violently, and in

grosser manner then he did before, nor did they give him any wine to

helpe it.

_Buffalmaco, Bruno,_ and the whole company, perceiving how he continued

still his coughing and spetting; saide all with one voyce, That

_Calandrino_ was the Theefe to himselfe: and gave him manie grosse

speeches beside, all departing home into their houses, very much

displeased and angry with him. After they were gone, none remained

with him but the Priest, _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, who thus spake to

_Calandrino_. I did ever thinke, that thou wast the theefe thy selfe,

yet thou imputedst thy robbery to some other, for feare we should once

drinke freely of thy purse, as thou hast done many times of ours.

_Calandrino_, who had not yet ended his coughing and spetting, sware

many bitter Oathes, that his Brawne was stolne from him. Talke so long

as thou wilt, quoth _Buffalmaco_, thy knavery is both knowne and seene,

and well thou mayst be ashamed of thy selfe. _Calandrino_ hearing this,

grew desperately angry; and to incense him more, _Bruno_ thus pursued

the matter.

Hear me _Calandrino_, for I speake to thee in honest earnest, there

was a man in the company, who did eate and drinke heere among thy

neighbours, and plainly told me, that thou keptst a young Lad heere to

do thee service, feeding him with such victuals as thou couldst spare,

by him thou didst send away thy Brawne, to one that bought it of thee

for foure Crownes, onely to cousen thy poore wife and us. Canst thou

not yet learne to leave thy mocking and scorning? Thou hast forgotte,

how thou broughtst us to the plaine of _Mugnone_, to seeke for black

invisible stones: which having found, thou concealedst them to thy

selfe, stealing home invisibly before us, and making us follow like

fooles after thee.

Now likewise, by horrible lying Oathes, and perjured protestations,

thou wouldst make us to beleeve, that the Brawne (which thou hast

cunningly sold for ready money) was stolne from thee out of thy house,

when thou art onely the Theefe to thy selfe, as by that excellent rule

of Art (which never faileth) hath plainly, to thy shame, appeared.

Wee being so well acquainted with thy delusions, and knowing them

perfectly; now do plainly tell thee, that we mean not to be foold any

more. Nor is it unknowne to thee, what paines wee have taken, in making

this singular peece of proofe. Wherefore we inflict this punishment on

thee, that thou shalt bestow on this honest Priest and us, two couple

of Capons, and a Flaggon of Wine, or else we will discover this knavery

of thine to thy Wife.

_Calandrino_ perceiving, that all his protestations could winne no

credit with them, who had now the Law remaining in their owne hands,

and purposed to deale with him as they pleased: apparently saw, that

sighing and sorrow did nothing availe him. Moreover, to fall into his

wives tempestuous stormes of chiding, would bee worse to him then

racking or torturing: he gladly therefore gave them money, to buy the

two couple of Capons and Wine, being heartily contented likewise, that

hee was so well delivered from them. So the merry Priest, _Bruno_, and

_Buffalmaco_, having taken good order for salting the Brawne; closely

carried it with them to _Florence_, leaving _Calandrino_ to complaine

of his losse, and well requited, for mocking them with the invisible

stones.

_A young Gentleman being a Scholler, fell in love with a Ladie, named_

Helena, _she being a Widdow, and addicted in affection to another

Gentleman. One whole night in cold winter, she caused the Scholler to

expect her comming, in an extreame frost and snow. In revenge whereof,

by his imagined Art and skill, he made her to stand naked on the top of

a Tower, the space of a whole day, and in the hot moneth of July, to be

Sun-burnt and bitten with Waspes and Flies._

The Seventh Novell.

_Serving as an admonition to all Ladies and Gentlewomen, not to mock

or scorne Gentlemen-Schollers, when they make meanes of love to them;

Except they intend to seeke their owne shame, by disgracing them._

Greatly did the Ladies commend Madame _Philomenaes_ Novell, laughing

heartily at poore _Calandrino_, yet grieving withall, that he should

be so knavishly cheated, not onely of his Brawne, but two couple of

Capons, and a Flaggon of Wine beside. But the whole discourse being

ended; the Queene commanded Madame _Pampinea_, to follow next with her

Novell, and presently she thus began. It hapneth oftentimes, (bright

beauties) that mockery falleth onto him, that intended the same unto

another: And therefore I am of opinion, that there is very little

wisedom declared on him or her, who taketh delight in mocking any

person. I must needs confesse, that we have smiled at many mockeries

and deceits, related in those excellent Novels, which we have already

heard; without any due revenge returned, but onely in this last of

silly _Calandrino_. Wherefore, it is now my determination, to urge

a kind of compassionate apprehension, upon a very just retribution,

happening to a Gentlewoman of our Citie, because her scorne fell

deservedly upon her selfe, remaining mocked, and to the perill of her

life. Let me then assure you, that your diligent attention may redound

to your benefit, because if you keepe your selves (henceforward) from

being scorned by others: you shall expresse the greater wisedome, and

be the better warned by their mishaps.

As yet there are not many yeares over-past, since there dwelt in

_Florence_, a yong Lady, descended of Noble parentage, very beautifull,

of sprightly courage, and sufficiently abounding in the goods of

Fortune, she being named Madame _Helena_. Her delight was to live in

the estate of Widdow-hood, desiring to match her selfe no more in

marriage, because she bare affection to a gallant young Gentleman,

whom she had made her private election of, and with whom (having

excluded all other amorous cares and cogitations) by meanes of her

Waiting-woman, she had divers meetings, and kinde conferences.

It chanced at the verie same time, another young Gentleman of our

Citie, called _Reniero_, having long studied in the Schooles at

_Paris_, returned home to _Florence_, not to make sale of his Learning

and experience, as many doe: but to understand the reason of things,

as also the causes and effects of them, which is mervailously fitting

for any Gentleman. Being greatly honoured and esteemed of everyone, as

well for his courteous carriage towards all in generall, as for his

knowledge and excellent parts: he lived more like a familiar Citizen,

then in the nature of a Courtly Gentleman, albeit he was choisely

respected in either estate.

But, as oftentimes it commeth to passe, that such as are endued with

the best judgement and understanding in naturall occasions, are soonest

caught and intangled in the snares of Love: so fel it out with our

Scholler _Reniero_, who being invited to a solemne Feast, in company of

other his especiall Friends; this Lady _Helena_, attyred in her blacke

Garments (as Widdowes commonly use to wear) was likewise there a Guest.

His eye observing her beauty and gracious demeanour, she seemed in his

judgement, to be a Woman so compleate and perfect, as he had never

seene her equall before: & therefore, he accounted the man more then

fortunate, that was worthy to embrace her in his armes. Continuing this

amorous observation of her from time to time, and knowing withall, that

rare and excellent things are not easily obtained, but by painefull

study, labour, and endeavour: hee resolved with himselfe constantly,

to put in practise all his best parts of industry, onely to honour and

please her, and attaining to her contentation, it would be the means to

winne her love, and compasse thereby his hearts desire.

The yong Lady, who fixed not her eyes on inferiour subjects (but

esteemed her selfe above ordinary reach or capacity) could moove them

artificially, as curious women well know how to doe, looking on every

side about her, yet not in a gadding or grosse manner; for she was

not ignorant in such darting glaunces, as proceeded from an enflamed

affection, which appearing plainely in _Reniero_; with a pretty smile,

shee said to her selfe. I am not come hither this day in vaine; for, if

my judgement faile me not, I thinke I have caught a Woodcocke by the

Bill. And lending him a cunning looke or two, queintly caried with the

corner of her eye; she gave him a kinde of perswading apprehension,

that her heart was the guide to her eye. And in this artificiall**

Schoole-tricke of hers, shee carryed therewith another consideration,

to wit, that the more other eyes fedde themselves on her perfections,

and were (well-neere) lost in them beyond recovery: so much the greater

reason had he to account his fortune beyond comparison, that was the

sole master of her heart, and had her love at his command.

Our witty Scholler having set aside his Philosophicall considerations,

strove how he might best understand her carriage toward him, and

beleeving that she beheld him with pleasing regards; hee learned to

know the house where shee dwelt, passing daily by the doore divers

times, under colour of some more serious occasions: wherein the Lady

very proudly gloried, in regard of the reasons before alleadged, and

seemed to affoord him lookes of good liking. Being led thus with a

hopefull perswasion, hee founde the meanes to gaine acquaintance with

her waiting-woman, revealing to her his intire affection, desiring her

to worke for him in such sort with her Lady, that his service might be

gracious in her acceptance. The Gentlewoman made him a very willing

promise, and immediately did his errand to her Lady; who heard her with

no small pride and squemishnesse, and breaking forth into a scornefull

laughter, thus she spake.

_Ancilla_ (for so she was named) dost thou not observe, how this

Scholler is come to lose all the wit heere, which he has studyed so

long for in the University of _Paris_? Let us make him our onely Table

argument, and seeing his folly soareth so high, we will feed him with

such a dyet as hee deserveth. Yet when thou speakest next with him,

tell him, that I affect him more then he can doe me: but it becommeth

me to be carefull of mine honour, and to walke with an untainted brow,

as other Ladies and Gentlewomen doe: which he is not to mislike, if he

be so wise as he maketh shew of, but rather will the more commend me.

Alas good Lady lack-wit, little did she understand (faire assembly) how

dangerous a case it is to deale with Schollers.

At his next meeting with the waiting woman, shee delivered the message,

as her Lady had command her, whereof poore _Reniero_ was so joyfull:

that hee pursued his love-suite the more earnestly, and began to write

letters, send gifts, and tokens, all which were still received, yet

without any other answere to give hope, but onely in generall, and

thus shee dallied with him a long while. In the end, she discovered

this matter to her secret chosen friend, who fell suddenly sicke of

the head-ake, onely through meere conceit of jealousie: which she

perceiving, and grieving to be suspected without any cause, especially

by him whom shee esteemed above all other; shee intended to rid him

quickely of that Idle disease. And being more and more solicited by the

Scholler, she sent him word by her maide _Ancilla_, that (as yet) she

could find no convenient opportunity, to yeeld him such assurance, as

hee should not any way be distrustfull of her love.

But the Feast of Christmas was now neere at hand, which afforded

leisures much more hopefull, then any other formerly passed. And

therefore, the next night after the first Feasting day, if he pleased

to walke in the open Court of her house: she would soone send for

him, into a place much better beseeming, and where they might freely

converse together.

Now was our Scholler the onely jocond man of the world, and failed

not the time assigned him, but went unto the Ladies house, where

_Ancilla_ was ready to give him entertainment, conducting him into the

base Court, where she lockt him up fast, untill her Lady should send

for him. This night shee had privately sent for her friend also, and

sitting merrily at supper with him, told him, what welcome she had

given the Scholler, and how she further meant to use him, saying. Now

Sir, consider with yourselfe, what hot affection I beare to him, of

whom you became so fondly jealous. The which words were very welcome

to him, and made him extraordinarily joyfull; desiring to see them as

effectually performed, as they appeared to him by her protestations.

Heere you are to understand (Gracious Ladies) that according to the

season of the yeare, a great snow had falne the day before, so as

the whole Court was covered therewith, and being an extreame frost

upon it, our Scholler could not boast of any warme walking, when the

teeth quivered in his head with cold, as a Dog could not be more

discourteously used: yet hope of enjoying Loves recompence at length,

made him to support all this injury with admirable patience.

Within a while after, Madame _Helena_ said to her friend. Walke with

me (deare heart) into my Chamber, and there at a secret little window,

I shall shew thee what he doth, that drove thee to such a suspition

of me, and we shall heare beside, what answere he will give my maide

_Ancilla_, whom I will send to comfort him in his coldnesse.

When she had so said, they went to the appointed chamber window,

where they could easily see him, but he not them: and then they heard

_Ancilla_ also, calling to him forth of another windowe, saying.

Signior _Reniero_, my Lady is the wofullest woman in the world,

because (as yet) she cannot come to you, in regard that one of her

brethren came this evening to visite her, and held her with much longer

discourse then she expected: whereby she was constrained to invite him

to sup with her, and yet he is not gone; but shortly I hope hee will,

and then expect her comming presently; till when, she entreateth your

gentle sufferance.

Poore _Reniero_, our over-credulous Scholler, whose vehement affection

to Madame _Helena_, so hood-winkt the sight of his understanding, as

he could not be distrustfull of any guilt; returned this answere to

_Ancilla_. Say to your Lady that I am bound in duty, to attend the good

houre of her leisure, without so much as the very least prejudicate

conceite in me: Neverthelesse, entreat her, to let it bee so soone as

she possibly may, because here is miserable walking, and it beginneth

againe to snow extreamely. _Ancilla_ making fast the Casement, went

presently to bed; when _Helena_ spake thus to her amorous friend.

What saist thou now? Doest thou thinke that I loved him, as thou wast

afraid of? if I did, he should never walke thus in the frost and snow.

So, away went they likewise from their close gazing window, and spent

wanton dalliances together, laughing, and deriding (with many bitter

taunts and jests) the lamentable condition of poore _Reniero_.

About the Court walked hee numberlesse times, finding such exercises

as he could best devise, to compasse warmth in any manner: no seate or

shelter had he any where, either to ease himselfe by sitting downe a

while, or keepe him from the snow, falling continually on him, which

made him bestow many curses on the Ladies Brother, for his so long

tarrying with her, as beleeving him verily to be in the house, else she

would (long before) have admitted his entrance, but therein his hope

was meerely deceived. It grew now to be about the houre of midnight,

and _Helena_ had delighted her selfe with her friend extraordinarily,

till at last she spake to him. What is thine opinion of my amourous

Scholler? Which dost thou imagine to be the greatest, either his sense

and judgement, or the affection I beare to him? Is not this cold

sufferance of this, able to quench the violent heate of his loves

extremitie, and having so much snow broth to helpe it? Beleeve me

(sweet Lady) quoth her friend, as hee is a man, and a learned Scholler,

I pitty that he should bee thus ungently dealt withall: but as he is

my rivall and loves enemy, I cannot allow him the least compassion,

resting the more confidently assured of your love to me, which I will

alwayes esteeme most precious.

When they had spent a long while in this or the like conference, with

infinite sweet kisses and embraces intermixed; then she began againe

in this manner. Deare love (quoth she) cast thy Cloake about thee, as

I intend to doe with my night mantle, and let us step to the little

window once more, to see whether the flaming fire, which burned in the

Schollers brest (as daily avouched to me in his love letters) be as

yet extinct or no. So going to the window againe, and looking downe

into the Court; there they saw the Scholler dancing in the snow, to

the cold tune of his teeths quivering and chattering, and clapping his

armes about his body, which was no pleasing melody to him. How thinkest

thou now sweet heart (saide shee) cannot I make a man daunce without

the sound of a Taber, or of a Bagpipe? Yes beleeve me Lady (quoth he)

I plaine perceive you can, and would be very lothe, that you should

exercise your cunning on me. Nay, said shee, we will yet delight our

selves a little more; let us softly descend downe the stayres, even so

farre as to the Court doore; thou shalt not speake a word, but I will

talke to him, and heare some part of his quivering language, which

cannot choose but bee passing pleasing for us to heare.

Out of the Chamber went they, and descended downe the stayres to the

Court doore; where, without opening it, she laide her mouth to a small

cranny, and in a low soft kinde of voyce, called him by his name:

which the Scholler hearing, was exceeding joyfull, as beleeving verily,

that the houre of his deliverance was come, and entrance now should be

admitted him. Upon the hearing of her voyce, hee stept close to the

doore, saying. For charities sake, good Lady, let me come in, because

I am almost dead with cold; whereto thus she answered in mocking

manner. I make no doubt (my deare friend _Reniero_) but the night is

indifferent colde, and yet somewhat the warmer by the Snowes falling:

and I have heard that such weather as this, is tenne-times more

extreame at _Paris_, then heere in our warmer Countrey. And trust me, I

am exceeding sorrowfull, that I may not (as yet) open the door, because

mine unhappy brother, who came (unexpected) yester-night to suppe with

mee, is not yet gone, as within a short while (I hope) he will, and

then shall I gladly set open the doore to you, for I made an excuse to

steale a little from him, onely to cheare you with this small kind of

comfort, that his so long tarrying might be the lesse offensive to you.

Alas sweet Madame, answered quaking and quivering _Reniero_, bee

then so favourable to me, as to free me from forth this open Court,

where there is no shelter or helpe for me, the snow falling still so

exceedingly, as a man might easily be more then halfe buried in it:

let me be but within your doore, and there I will wait your own good

leisure. Alas deare _Reniero_ (answered _Helena_) I dare not doe it,

because the doore maketh such a noyse in the opening, as it will be

too easily heard by my Brother: but I will goe and use such meanes,

as shortly hee shall get him gone, and then I dare boldly give you

entrance. Doe so good Madame, replyed _Reniero_, and let there be a

faire fire made ready, that when I am within, I may the sooner warme my

selfe; for I am so strangely benummed with colde, as well neere I am

past all sence of feeling.

Can it be possible (quoth _Helena_) that you should be so benummed

with colde? Then I plainely perceive, that men can lye in their love

letters, which I can shew under your own hand, how you fryed in

flames, and all for my love, and so have you written to me in every

letter. Poore credulous women are often thus deluded, in beleeving

what men write and speake out of passion: but I will returne backe to

my Brother, and make no doubt of dispatch, because I would gladly have

your Company.

The amourous Friend to _Helena_, who stood by all this while, laughing

at the Schollers hard usage, returned up againe with her to her

Chamber, where they could not take a jote of rest, for flouting and

scorning the betrayed Scholler. As for him poore man, hee was become

like the Swanne, coldly chattering his teeth together, in a strange new

kinde of harmony to him. And perceiving himselfe to be meerely mocked,

he attempted to get open the doore, or how he might passe forth at any

other place: but being no way able to compasse it, he walked up and

downe like an angry Lyon, cursing the hard quality of the time, the

discourtesie of the Lady, the over-tedious length of the night; but

(most of all) his owne folly and simplicity, in being so basely abused

and gulde. Now began the heat of his former affection to _Helena_,

altered into as violent a detestation of her; Yea, extremity of hatred

in the highest degree; beating his braines, and ransacking every corner

of invention, by what meanes he might best be revenged on her, which

now he more earnestly desired to effect, then to enjoy the benefit of

her love, or to be embraced betweene her armes.

After that the sad and discomfortable night had spent it selfe, & the

break of day was beginning to appeare; _Ancilla_ the waiting-woman,

according as she was instructed by her Lady, went downe and opened the

Court doore, and seeming exceedingly to compassionate the Schollers

unfortunate night of sufferance, saide unto him.

Alas courteous Gentleman, in an unblessed houre came my Ladyes brother

hither yester-night, inflicting too much trouble upon us, and a

grievous time of affliction to you. But I am not ignorant, that you

being vertuous, and a judicious Scholler, have an invincible spirit of

pacience, and sufficient understanding withall; that what this night

could not affoord, another may make a sound amends for. This I can and

dare sufficiently assure you, that nothing could be more displeasing

to my Lady, neither can she well be quieted in her mind: untill she

have made a double and treble requitall, for such a strange unexpected

inconvenience, whereof she had not the very least suspition.

_Reniero_ swelling with discontentment, yet wisely clouding it from

open apprehension, and knowing well enough, that such golden speeches

and promises, did alwaies favour of what intemperate spleene would more

lavishly have vented foorth, and therefore in a modest dissembling

manner; without the least shew of any anger, thus he answered.

In good sadnesse _Ancilla_, I have endured the most miserablest night

of colde, frost and snow, that ever any poore Gentleman suffered; but

I know well enough, your Lady was not in any fault thereof, neither

meriteth to be blamed, for in her owne person (as being truely

compassionate of my distresse) she came so farre as the doore of this

Court, to excuse her selfe, and comfort mee. But as you saide, and

very well too, what hath failed this night, another hereafter may more

fortunately performe: in hope whereof, commend my love and duteous

service to her, and (what else remaineth mine) to your gentle selfe.

So our halfe frozen Scholler, scarcely able to walke upon his legges,

returned home, (so well as hee could) to his owne lodging; where, his

Spirits being grievously out of order, and his eyes staring gastly

through lacke of sleepe: he lay downe on his bed, and after a little

rest, he found himselfe in much worse condition then before, as meerely

taken lame in his armes and his legges. Whereupon he was inforced

to send for Phisitions, to be advised by their councell, in such an

extremity of cold received. Immediately, they made provision for his

healthes remedie (albeit his nerves and sinewes could very hardly

extend themselves) yet in regard he was yong, & Summer swiftly drawing

on; they had the better hope of affecting his safty, out of so great

and dangerous a cold.

But after he was become almost well and lusty againe, hee used to be

seldome seene abroad for an indifferent while; concealing his intended

revenge secret to himselfe, yet appearing more affectionate to Madame

_Helena_, then formerly he had beene.

Now, it came to passe (within no long while after) that Fortune being

favourable to our injured Scholler, prepared a new accident, whereby

he might fully effect his harts desire. For the lusty yong Gallant,

who was Madame _Helenaes_ deare darling and delight, and (for whose

sake) she dealt so inhumanely with poore _Reniero_: became weary of her

amourous service, and was falne in liking of another Lady, scorning

and disdaining his former Mistresse; whereat shee grew exceedingly

displeased, and began to languish in sighes and teares.

But _Ancilla_ her waiting-woman, compassionating the perilous condition

of her Lady, and knowing no likely meanes whereby to conquer this

oppressing melancholly, which shee suffered for the losse of her hearts

chosen friend: at length she began to consider, that the Scholler still

walked daily by the doore, as formerly hee was wont to doe, and (by

him) there might some good be done.

A fond and foolish opinion overswayed her, that the Scholler was

extraordinarily skilfull in the Art of Nigromancy, and could thereby

so over-rule the heart of her lost friend, as hee should bee compelled

to love her againe, in as effectuall manner as before; herewith

immediately she acquainted her Lady, who being as rashly credulous, as

her maide was opinionative (never considring, that if the Scholler had

any experience in Negromancy, hee would thereby have procured his owne

successe) gave releefe to her surmise, in very Joviall and comfortable

manner, and entreated her in all kindnes, to know of him, whether he

could worke such a businesse, or no, and (upon his undertaking to

effect it) shee would give absolute assurance, that (in recompence

thereof) he should unfainedly obtaine his hearts desire. _Ancilla_ was

quicke and expeditious, in delivering this message to discontented

_Reniero_, whose soule being ready to mount out of his body, onely by

conceit of joy; chearefully thus he said within himselfe. Gracious

Fortune! how highly am I obliged to thee for this so great a favour?

Now thou hast blest me with a happy time, to be justly revenged on so

wicked a woman, who sought the utter ruine of my life, in recompence of

the unfaigned affection I bare her. Returne to thy Lady (quoth he) and

saluting her first on my behalfe, bid her to abandon all care in this

businesse; for, if her amourous Friend were in India, I would make him

come (in meere despight of his heart) and crave mercy of her for his

base transgression. But concerning the meanes how, and in what manner

it is to bee done, especially on her owne behalfe: I will impart it to

her so soone as she pleaseth: faile not to tell her so constantly from

me, with all my utmost paines at her service.

_Ancilla_ came jocondly home with her answere, and a conclusion was

set downe for their meeting together at _Santa Lucia del prato_, which

accordingly was performed, in very solemne conference between them.

Her fond affection had such power over her, that shee had forgot, into

what peril she brought his life, by such an unnatural night-walke:

but disclosed all her other intention to him, how loth she was to lose

so deare a friend, and desiring him to exercise his utmost height of

skil, with large promises of her manifold favours to him, whereto our

Scholler thus replyed.

Very true it is Madam, that among other studies at _Paris_, I learned

the Art of Negromancy, the depth whereof I am as skilful in, as anie

other Scholler whatsoever. But, because it is greatly displeasing

unto God, I made a vow never to use it, either for my selfe, or anie

other. Neverthelesse, the love I beare you is of such power, as I

know not well how to denie, whatsoever you please to command me: in

which respect, if in doing you my very best service, I were sure to

bee seized on by all the divels: I will not faile to accomplish your

desire, you onely having the power to command me. But let me tell you

Madame, it is a matter not so easie to be performed, as you perhaps may

rashly imagine, especially, when a Woman would repeale a man to love

her, or a man a woman: because, it is not to be done, but by the person

whom it properly concerneth. And therefore it behoveth, that such would

have this businesse effected, must be of a constant minde, without the

least scruple of feare: because it is to be accomplished in the darke

night season, in which difficulties I doe not know, how you are able

to warrant your selfe, or whether you have such courage of spirit, as

(with boldnes) to adventure.

Madame _Helena_, more hot in pursuite of her amorous contentment, then

any way governed by temperate discretion, presently thus answered. Sir,

Love hath set such a keene edge on my unconquerable affection, as there

is not any daunger so difficult, but I dare resolutely undertake it,

for the recovery of him, who hath so shamefully refused my kindnesse:

wherefore (if you please) shew mee, wherein I must be so constant and

dreadlesse. The Scholler, who had (more then halfe) caught a right

Ninny-hammer by the beake; thus replyed. Madame, of necessity I must

make an image of Tin, in the name of him whom you desire to recall.

Which when I have sent you, the Moone being then in her full, and your

selfe stript starke naked: immediately after your first sleepe, seaven

times you must bathe your selfe with it in a swift running River.

Afterward, naked as you are, you must climbe up upon some tree, or else

upon an uninhabited house top, where standing dreadlesse of any perill,

and turning your face to the North, with the Image in your hand, seaven

times you must speake such wordes, as I will deliver to you in writing.

After you have so often spoken them, two goodly Ladies (the very

fairest that ever you beheld) will appeare unto you, very graciously

saluting you, and demanding what you would have them to performe for

you. Safely you may speake unto them, and orderly tel them what you

desire: but be very carefull, that you name not one man insted of

another. When you have uttered your mind, they will depart from you,

and then you may descend againe, to the place where you did leave

your garments, which having putte on, then returne to your house. And

undoubtedly, before the midst of the next night following, your friend

will come in teares to you, and humbly crave your pardon on his knees;

beeing never able afterward to be false to you, or leave your Love for

any other whatsoever.

The Lady hearing these words, gave very setled beleefe to them,

imagining unfainedly, that shee had (more then halfe) recovered her

friend already, and held him embraced betweene her armes: in which

jocond perswasion, the chearfull** blood mounted up into hir cheekes,

and thus she replyed. Never make you any doubt Sir, but that I can

sufficiently performe whatsoever you have said, and am provided of

the onely place in the world, where such a weighty businesse is to be

effected. For I have a Farme or dairy house, neere adjoyning to the

vale of _Arno_, & closely bordering upon the same River. It beeing now

the moneth of July, the most convenientest time of all the yeare to

bathe in; I can bee the easier induced thereunto.

Moreover, there is hard by the Rivers side a small Tower or Turret

uninhabited; whereinto few people do sildome enter, but onely Heardsmen

or Flocke-keepers, who ascend uppe (by the helpe of a wodden Ladder) to

a Tarrasse on the top of the saide Tower, to looke all about for their

beasts, when they are wandred astray: it standing in a solitary place,

and out of the common way or resort. There dare I boldly adventure

to mount up, and with the invincible courage of a wronged Lady (not

fearing to looke death himself in the face) do al that you have

prescribed, yea, and much more, to recover my deare lost Lover againe,

whom I value equal with my owne Life.

_Reniero_, who perfectly knew both the Dairy Farme, and the old smal

Turret, not a little joyfull, to heare how forward shee was to shame her

selfe, answered in this manner. Madame, I was never in those parts of

the Country, albeit they are so neere to our City, & therefore I must

needs be ignorant, not onely of your Farme, but the Turret also. But

if they stand in such convenient manner as you have described, all the

world could not yeelde the like elsewhere, so apt and sutable to your

purpose: wherefore, with such expedition as possibly I can use, I will

make the Image, and send it you, as also the charme, verie fairely

written. But let me entreate you, that when you have obtayned your

hearts desire, and are able to judge truely of my love and service: not

to be unmindfull of me, but (at your best leysure) to performe what

you have with such protestations promised; which shee gave him her hand

and faith to do, without any impeach or hindrance: and so parting, she

returned home to her house.

Our over-joyed Scholler, applauding his happy Starres, for furthering

him with so faire a way to his revenge; immagining that it was already

halfe executed, made the Image in due forme, & wrote an old Fable,

in sted of a Charme; both which he sent to the Lady, so soone as he

thought the time to be fitting: and this admonition withall, that the

Moone being entering into the full, without any longer delay, she

might venter on the businesse the next night following, and remaine

assured to repossesse her friend. Afterward for the better pleasing

of himselfe, he went secretly attended, onely by his servant, to the

house of a trusty frend of his, who dwelt somwhat neere to the Turret,

there to expect the issue of this Lady-like enterprize. And Madam

_Helena_ accompanied with none but _Ancilla_, walked on to her dairy

Farme, where the night ensuing, pretending to take her rest sooner

then formerly she used to doe, she commanded _Ancilla_ to go to bed,

referring her selfe to her best liking.

After she had slept her first sleepe (according to the Schollers

direction) departing softly out of her chamber, she went on towards

the ancient Tower, standing hard by the river of _Arno_, looking every

way heedfully about hir, least she should be spied by any person. But

perceiving hir selfe to be so secure as she could desire; putting off

all her garments, she hid them in a small brake of bushes: afterward,

holding the Image in hir hand, seven times she bathd hir body in the

river, and then returned back with it to the Tower. The Scholler, who

at the nights closing up of day, had hid himselfe among the willowes

& other trees, which grew very thick about the Tower, saw both hir

going and returning from the River, and as she passed thus naked by

him, he plainly perceyved, that the nights obscurity could not cloud

the delicate whitenes of hir body, but made the Starres themselves

to gaze amorously on her, even as if they were proud to behold her

bathing, and (like so many twinkling Tapers) shewed hir in emulation of

another _Diana_. Now, what conflicts this sight caused in the mind of

our Scholler, one while, quenching his hatefull spleen towards hir, al

coveting to imbrace a piece of such perfection: another while, thinking

it a purchase fit for one of _Cupids_ soldiers, to seize and surprize

hir uppon so faire an advantage, none being neere to yeild her rescue:

in the fiery triall of such temptations, I am not able to judge, or to

say, what resistance flesh and blood could make, being opposed with

such a sweet enemy.

But he well considering what she was, the greatnes of his injury, as

also how, and for whom: he forgot all wanton allurements of Love,

scorning to entertaine a thought of compassion, continuing constant

in his resolution, to let her suffer, as he himselfe had done. So,

_Helena_ being mounted up on the Turret, and turning her face towards

the North; she repeated those idle frivolous words (composed in

the nature of a charme) which shee had received from the Scholler.

Afterward, by soft and stealing steps, hee went into the old Tower, and

tooke away the Ladder, whereby she ascended to the Tarras, staying and

listening, how shee proceeded in her amorous exorcisme.

Seven times she rehearsed the charme to the Image, looking still

when the two Ladies would appeare in their likenesse, and so long

she held on her imprecations (feeling greater cold, then willinglie

she would have done) that breake of day began to shew it selfe, and

halfe despairing of the Ladies comming, according as the Scholler had

promised, she said to her selfe: I much misdoubt, that _Reniero_ hath

quitted me with such another peece of night-service, as it was my lucke

to bestow on him: but if he have done it in that respect, hee was but

ill advised in his revenge, because the night wants now three parts

of the length, as then it had: and the cold which he suffered, was

far superior in quality to mine, albeit it is more sharp now in the

morning, then all the time of night it hath bin.

And, because day-light should not discover her on the Tarrasse, she

went to make her descent downe againe: but finding the Ladder to be

taken away, & thinking how her publike shame was now inevitable, her

heart dismayed, and shee fell downe in a swoune on the Tarras: yet

recovering her senses afterward, her greefe and sorrow** exceeded all

capacity of utterance. For, now she became fully perswaded, that this

proceeded from the Schollers malice, repenting for her unkinde usage

towards him, but much more condemning her selfe, for reposing any trust

in him, who stood bound (by good reason) to be her enemy.

Continuing long in this extreame affliction, and surveighing all likely

meanes about her, whereby she might descend from the Tarras, whereof

she was wholly disappointed: she began to sighe and weepe exceedingly,

and in this heavy perplexity of spirit, thus shee complained to her

selfe. Miserable and unfortunate _Helena_, what will be saide by

thy Bretheren, Kindred, Neighbours, and generallie throughout all

_Florence_, when they shall know, that thou wast founde heere on this

Turret, starke naked? Thine honourable carriage, and honesty of life,

heeretofore free from a thought of suspition, shall now be branded with

detestation; and if thou wouldst cloud this mishappe of thine, by such

lies and excuses, as are not rare amongst women: yet _Reniero_ that

wicked Scholler, who knoweth all thy privy compacting, will stand as a

thousand witnesses against thee, and shame thee before the whole City,

so both thine honor and loved friend are lost for ever.

Having thus consulted with her selfe, many desperate motions entred her

minde, to throw her selfe headlong from off the Tarras; till better

thoughts wone possession of her soule. And the Sunne being risen, shee

went to every corner of the Tarras, to espye any Lad come abroad with

his beasts, by whom she might send for her waiting-woman. About this

instant, the Scholler who lay sleeping (all this while) under a bush,

suddenly awaking; saw her looke over the wall, and she likewise espyed

him; whereupon hee said unto her. Good morrow Madame _Helena_, What?

are the Ladies come yet or no? _Helena_ hearing his scorning question,

and grieving that hee should so delude her; in teares and lamentations,

she intreated him to come neere the Tower, because she desired to

speake with him. Which courtesie he did not deny her, and she lying

groveling upon her brest on the Tarras, to hide her body that no part

thereof might be seene, but her head; weeping, she spake thus to him.

_Reniero_, upon my credit, if I gave thee an ill nights rest, thou hast

well revenged that wrong on me; for, although wee are now in the moneth

of _July_, I have beene plagued with extremity of colde (in regard of

my nakednesse) even almost frozen to death: beside my continuall teares

and lamenting, that folly perswaded me to beleeve thy protestations,

wherein I account it well-neere miraculous, that mine eyes should be

capable of any sight. And therefore I pray thee, not in respect of any

love which thou canst pretend to beare me; but for regard of thine owne

selfe, being a Gentleman and a Scholler, that this punishment which

thou hast already inflicted upon me, may suffise for my former injuries

towards thee, and to hold thy selfe revenged fully, as also permit

my garments to be brought me, that I may descend from hence, without

taking that from me, which afterward (although thou wouldst) thou canst

never restore me, I meane mine honour. And consider with thy selfe,

that albeit thou didst not injoy my company that unhappy night, yet

thou hast power to command me at any time whensoever, with making many

diversities of amends, for one nights offence only committed. Content

thy selfe then good _Reniero_, and as thou art an honest Gentleman, say

thou art sufficiently revenged on me, in making me dearely confesse

mine owne errour. Never exercise thy malice upon a poore weake woman,

for the Eagle disdaineth to pray on the yeelding Dove: and therefore in

meere pitty, and for manhoods sake, be my release from open shame and

reproch.

The Scholler, whose envious spleene was swolne very great, in

remembring such a malicious cruelty exercised on him, beholding her

to weepe and make such lamentations; found a fierce conflict in his

thoughts, betweene content and pitty. It did not a little joy and

content him, that the revenge which hee so earnestly desired to

compasse, was now by him so effectually inflicted. And yet (in meere

humanity) pitty provoked him to commisserate the Ladies distressed

condition: but clemency being over-weake to withstand his rigor, thus

he replied. Madame _Helena_, if my entreaties (which, to speake truly,

I never knew how to steepe in tears, nor wrap up my words in sugar

Candie, so cuningly as you women know how to do) could have prevailed,

that miserable night, when I was well-neere frozen to death with cold,

and meerly buried with snow in your Court, not having anie place of

rescue or shelter; your complaints would now the more easily over-rule

me. But if your honor in estimation, bee now more precious to you then

heretofore, and it seemeth so offensive to stand there naked: convert

your perswasions & prayers to him, in whose armes you were that night

imbraced, both of your triumphing in my misery, when poor I, trotted

about your Court, with the teeth quivering in my head, and beating mine

armes about my body, finding no compassion in him, or you. Let him

bring thee thy Garments, let him come helpe thee down with the Ladder,

and let him have the care of thine honour, on whom thou hast bene so

prodigall heretofore in bestowing it, and now hast unwomanly throwne

thy selfe in perill, onely for the maintenance of thine immodest

desires.

Why dost thou not call on him to come helpe thee? To whom doeth it more

belong, then to him? For thou art his, and he thine, why then shold any

other but he help thee in this distresse? Call him (foole as thou art)

and try, if the love he beareth thee, and thy best understanding joyned

with his, can deliver thee out of my sottish detaining thee. I have

not forgot, that when you both made a pastime of my misery, thou didst

demand of him, which seemed greatest in his opinion, either my sottish

simplicity, or the love thou barest him. I am not now so liberall or

courteous, to desire that of thee, which thou wouldst not grant, if I

did request it: No, no, reserve those night favours for thy amorous

friend, if thou dost escape hence alive to see him againe. As for my

selfe, I leave thee freely to his use and service: because I have

sufficiently payde for a womans falshood, & wise men take such warning,

that they scorne to bee twice deceived, & by one woman. Proceed on

still in thy flattering perswasions, terming me to be a Gentleman and

a Scholler, thereby to win such favor from me, that I should think

thy villany toward me, to be already sufficiently punished. No,

trecherous _Helena_, thy blandishments cannot now hoodwink the eies of

my understanding, as when thou didst out-reach me with thy disloyall

promises and protestations. And let me now tell thee plainely, that all

the while I continued in the Universitie of _Paris_, I never attained

unto so perfect an understanding of my selfe, as in that one miserable

night thou diddest enstruct mee. But admit, that I were enclined unto a

mercifull and compassionate minde, yet thou art none of them, on whome

milde and gracious mercy should any way declare her effects. For, the

end of pennance among savage beasts, such as thou art, and likewise

of due vengeance, ought to be death: whereas among men, it should

suffice according to thine owne saying. Wherefore, in regard that I am

neither an Eagle, nor thou a Dove, but rather a most venomous Serpent:

I purpose with my utmost hatred, and as an ancient enemy to all such as

thou art, to make my revenge famous on thee.

I am not ignorant, that whatsoever I have already done unto thee,

cannot properly be termed revenge, but rather chastisement; because

revenge ought alwayes to exceede the offence, which (as yet) I am farre

enough from. For, if I did intend to revenge my wrongs, and remembred

thy monstrous cruelty to me: thy life, if I tooke it from thee, and an

hundred more such as thy selfe, were farre insufficient, because in

killing thee, I should kill but a vile inhumane beast, yea, one that

deserved not the name of a Woman. And, to speake truely, Art thou any

more, or better (setting aside thy borrowed haire, and painted beauty,

which in few yeares will leave thee wrinkled and deformed) then the

basest beggarly Chamber-stuffe that can bee? Yet thou soughtest the

death of a Gentleman and Scholler as (in scorne) not long since, thou

didst terme me: whose life may hereafter be more beneficiall unto

the world, then millions of such as thou art, to live in the like

multiplicity of ages. Therefore, if this anguish be sensible to thee,

learne what it is to mocke men of apprehension, and (amongst them

especially) such as are Schollers: to prevent thy falling hereafter

into the like extremity, if it be thy good lucke to escape out of this.

It appeareth to me, that thou art verie desirous to come downe hither

on the ground; the best counsell that I can give thee, is to leape

downe headlong, that by breaking thy necke (if thy fortune be so faire)

thy life and lothsome qualities ending together, I may sit and smile

at thy deserved destruction. I have no other comfort to give thee, but

only to boast my happinesse, in teaching thee the way to ascend that

Tower, and in thy descending downe (even by what means thy wit can best

devise) make a mockery of me, and say thou hast learned more, then all

my Schollership could instruct thee.

All the while as _Reniero_ uttered these speeches, the miserable

Lady sighed and wept very grievously, the time running on, and the

Sunne amending higher and higher; but when she heard him silent, thus

she answered. Unkinde and cruell man, if that wretched night was so

greevous to thee, and mine offence appeared so great, as neither my

youth, beautie, teares, and humble intercessions, are able to derive

any mercy from thee; yet let the last consideration moove thee to

some remorse: namely, that I reposed new confidence in thee (when

I had little or no reason at all to trust thee) and discovered the

integritie of my soule unto thee, whereby thou didst compasse the

meanes, to punish me thus deservedly for my sinne. For, if I had not

reposed confidence in thee, thou couldst not (in this manner) have

wrought revenge on me, which although thou didst earnestly covet, yet

my rash credulitie was thy onely helpe. Asswage then thine anger, and

graciously pardon me, wherein if thou wilt be so mercifull to me, and

free me from this fatall Tower: I do heere faithfully promise thee, to

forsake my most false and disloyall friend, electing thee as my Lord

and constant Love for ever.

Moreover, although thou condemnest my beauty greatly, esteeming it

as a trifle, momentary, and of slender continuance; yet, such as it

is (being comparable with any other womans whatsoever) I am not so

ignorant, that were there no other reason to induce liking thereof:

yet men in the vigour of their youth (as I am sure you think yourselfe

not aged) do hold it for an especiall delight, ordained by nature

for them to admire and honour. And notwithstanding all thy cruelty

extended to mee, yet I cannot be perswaded, that thou art so flinty

or Iron-hearted, as to desire my miserable death, by casting my selfe

headlong downe (like a desperate madde woman) before thy face so to

destroy that beauty, which (if thy Letters lyed not) was once so highly

pleasing in thine eyes. Take pitty then on mee for charities sake,

because the Sunne beginneth to heate extreamely: and as over-much colde

(that unhappy night) was mine offence, so let not over-violent warmth

be now my utter ruine and death.

The Scholler, who (onely to delight himselfe) maintained this long

discoursing with her, returned her this answere. Madame, you did not

repose such confidence in me, for any good will or affection in you

towards me, but in hope of recovering him whom you had lost; wherein

you merit not a jot of favour, but rather the more sharpe and severe

infliction. And whereas you inferre, that your over-rash credulity,

gave the onely meanes to my revenge: Alas! therein you deceive your

selfe; for I have a thousand crochets working continually in my brain,

whereby to entrap a wiser creature then a woman, yet veiled all under

the cunning cloake of love, but sauced with the bitter Wormewood of

hate. So that, had not this hapned as now it doth, of necessity you

must have falne into another: but, as it hath pleased my happy stars to

favour mee therein, none could proove more to your eternall scandall

and disgrace, then this of your owne devising, which I made choise of,

not in regard of any ease to you, but onely to content my selfe.

But if all other devises els had failed, my pen was and is my

prevayling Champion, where-with I would have written such and so many

strange matters, concerning you in your very dearest reputation; that

you should have curst the houre of your conception, & wisht your birth

had bin abortive. The powers of the pen are too many & mighty, whereof

such weake wits as have made no experience, are the lesse able to

use any relation. I sweare to you Lady, by my best hopes, that this

revenge which (perhappes) you esteeme great and dishonourable, is no

way compareable to the wounding Lines of a Penne, which can carracter

downe so infinite infamies (yet none but guilty and true taxations)

as will make your owne hands immediate instruments, to teare the eyes

from forth your head, and so bequeath your after dayes unto perpetuall

darkenesse.

Now, concerning your lost lover, for whose sake you suffer this

unexpected pennance; although your choise hath proved but bad, yet

still continue your affection to him: in regard that I have another

Ladie and Mistresse, of higher and greater desert then you, and to

whome I will continue for ever constant. And whereas you thinke, the

warme beames of the Sunne, will be too hot and scorching for your nice

bodie to endure: remember the extreame cold which you caused mee to

feele, and if you can intermixe some part of that cold with the present

heat, I dare assure you, the Sun (in his highest heate) will be far

more temperate for your feeling.

The disconsolate Lady perceiving, that the Schollers wordes favoured of

no mercy, but rather as coveting her desperate ending; with the teares

streaming downe her cheekes, thus she replied. Wel Sir, seeing there

is no matter of worth in me, whereby to derive any compassion from

you: yet for that Ladies sake, whom you have elected worthy to enjoy

your love, and so farre excelleth mee in Wisedome; vouchsafe to pardon

mee, and suffer my garments to be brought me, wherewith to cover my

nakednesse, and so to descend downe from this Tower, if it may stand

with your gentle Nature to admit it.

Now beganne _Reniero_ to laughe very heartily, and perceiving how

swiftly the day ran on in his course, he saide unto her. Beleeve me

Madame _Helena_, you have so conjured me by mine endeered Ladie and

Mistresse, that I am no longer able to deny you; wherefore, tell me

where your garments are, and I will bring them to you, that you may

come downe from the Turret. She beleeving his promise, tolde him where

she had hid them, and _Reniero_ departing from the Tower, commanded his

servant, not to stirre thence: but to abide still so neere it, as none

might get entrance there till his returning. Which charge was no sooner

given to his man, but hee went to the house of a neere neighbouring

friend, where he dined well, and afterward laid him downe to sleepe.

In the meane while, Madame _Helena_ remaining still on the Tower,

began to comfort her selfe with a little vaine hope, yet sighing and

weeping incessantly, seating her selfe so well as shee could, where

any small shelter might yeelde the least shade, in expectation of the

Schollers returning: one while weeping, then againe hoping, but most

of all despairing, by his so long tarrying away with her Garments; so

that beeing over-wearied with anguish and long watching, she fell into

a little slumbering. But the Sunne was so extreamly hot, the houre of

noone being already past, that it meerly parched her delicate body,

and burnt her bare head so violently: as not onely it seared all the

flesh it touched; but also cleft & chinkt it strangely, beside blisters

and other painfull scorchings in the flesh which hindred her sleeping,

to help her self (by all possible means) waking. And the Turret being

covered with Lead, gave the greater addition to her torment; for, as

she removed from one place to another, it yeelded no mitigation to the

burning heate, but parched and wrinkled the flesh extraordinarily, even

as when a piece of parchment is throwne into the fire, and recovered

out againe, can never be extended to his former forme.

Moreover, she was so grievously payned with the head-ake, as it seemed

to split in a thousand pieces, whereat there needed no great marvaile,

the Lead of the Turret being so exceedingly hot, that it affoorded not

the least defence against it, or any repose to qualifie the torment:

but drove her still from one place to another, in hope of ease, but

none was there to be found.

Nor was there any winde at all stirring, whereby to asswage the Sunnes

violent scalding, or keepe away huge swarmes of Waspes, Hornets, and

terrible byting Flyes, which vexed her extreamely, feeding on those

parts of her body, that were rifte and chinkt, like crannies in a

mortered wall, and pained her like so many points of pricking Needles,

labouring still with her hands to beate them away, but yet they fastned

on one place or other, and afflicted her in grievous manner, causing

her to curse her owne life, hir amorous friend, but (most of all) the

Scholler, that promised to bring her Garments, and as yet returned not.

Now began she to gaze upon every side about her, to espy some labouring

Husbandmen in the fields, to whom she might call or cry out for helpe,

not fearing to discover her desperate condition: but Fortune therein

also was adverse to her, because the heats extreamity, had driven all

the village out of the fields, causing them to feede their Cattle about

theyr owne houses, or in remote and shadie Valleyes: so that shee

could see no other creatures to comfort her, but Swannes swimming in

the River of _Arno_, and wishing her selfe there a thousand times with

them, for to coole the extreamity of her thirst, which so much the more

encreased, onely by the sight thereof, and utterly disabled of having

any.

She saw beside in many places about her, goodly Woods, fayre coole

shades, and Country houses here and there dispersed; which added the

greater violence to hir affliction, that her desires (in all these)

could no way be accomplished. What shall I say more concerning this

disastrous Lady? The parching beames of the Sunne above her, the

scalding heat of the Lead beneath her, the Hornets and Flyes everie

way stinging her, had made such an alteration of her beautifull bodie:

that, as it checkt and controlled the precedent nights darkenesse, it

was now so metamorphosed with rednesse, yea, and blood issuing forth

in infinite places, as she seemed (almost) loathsome to looke on,

continuing still in this agonie of torment, quite voyde of all hope,

and rather expecting death, then any other comfort.

_Reniero_, when some three houres of the afternoone were overpast,

awaked from sleeping: and remembring Madame _Helena_, he went to see

in what estate she was; as also to send his servant unto dinner,

because he had fasted all that day. She perceyving his arrivall, being

altogether weake, faint, and wonderously over-wearied, she crept on

her knees to a corner of the Turret, and calling to him, spake in this

manner. _Reniero_, thy revenge exceedeth al manhoode and respect: For,

if thou wast almost frozen in my Court, thou hast roasted me all day

long on this Tower, yea, meerly broyled my poore naked bodie, beside

starving mee thorough want of Food and drinke. Be now then so mercifull

(for manhoods sake) as to come uppe hither, and inflict that on me,

which mine owne hands are not strong enough to do, I meane the ending

of my loathed and wearisome life, for I desire it beyond all comfort

else, and I shall honour thee in the performance of it. If thou deny me

this gracious favour; at least send me uppe a glasse of Water, onely to

moisten my mouth, which my teares (being all meerly dried up) are not

able to doe, so extreame is the violence of the Sunnes burning heate.

Well perceived the Scholler, by the weaknesse of her voyce, and

scorching of her body by the Suns parching beames, that shee was

brought now to great extremity: which sight, as also her humble

intercession, began to touch him with some compassion, nevertheles,

thus he replied. Wicked woman, my hands shall be no means of thy death,

but make use of thine owne, if thou be so desirous to have it: and as

much water shalt thou get of me to asswage thy thirst, as thou gavest

me fire to comfort my freezing, when thou wast in the luxurious heat of

thy immodest desires, and I wel-neere frozen to death with extremity of

cold. Pray that the Evening may raine downe Rose-water on thee, because

that in the River of _Arno_ is not good enough for thee: for as little

pitty doe I take on thee now, as thou didst extend compassion to me

then.

Miserable Woman that I am, answered _Helena_; Why did the heavens

bestow beautie on mee, which others have admired and honoured, and yet

(by thee) is utterly despised? More cruell art thou then any savage

Beast; thus to vexe and torment mee in such mercilesse manner. What

greater extreamity couldst thou inflict on me, if I had bin the

destruction of all thy Kindred, and lefte no one man living of thy

race? I am verily perswaded, that more cruelty cannot be used against

a Traitor, who was the subversion of a whole Cittie, then this tyranny

of thine, roasting me thus in the beames of the Sun, and suffering my

body to be devoured with Flies, without so small a mercie; as to give

mee a little coole water, which murtherers are permitted to have, being

condemned by Justice, and led to execution: yea Wine also, if they

request it.

But, seeing thou art so constant in thy pernitious resolve, as neither

thine owne good Nature, nor this lamentable sufferance in me, are able

to alter thee: I will prepare my self for death patiently, to the

end, that Heaven may be mercifull to my soul, and reward thee justly,

according to thy cruelty. Which words being ended, she withdrew her

selfe towards the middest of the Tarras, despairing of escaping (with

life) from the heates violence; and not once onely, but infinite times

beside (among her other grievous extreamities) she was ready to dye

with drought, bemoaning incessantly her dolorous condition.

By this time the day was well neere spent, and night beganne to

hasten on apace: when the Scholler (immagining that he afflicted her

sufficiently) tooke her Garments, and wrapping them up in his mans

Cloake, went thence to the Ladies house, where he found _Ancilla_ the

Waiting-woman sitting at the doore, sad and disconsolate for her Ladies

long absence, to whom thus he spake. How now _Ancilla_? Where is thy

Lady and Mistris? Alas Sir (quoth she) I know not. I thought this

morning to have found her in her bed, as usually I was wont to do, and

where I left her yesternight at our parting: but there she was not, nor

in any place else of my knowledge, neyther can I imagine what is become

of her, which is to me no meane discomfort.

But can you (Sir) say any thing of her? _Ancilla_, said he, I would

thou hadst bin in her company, and at the same place where now she is,

that some punishment for thy fault might have falne uppon thee, as

already it hath done on her. But beleeve it assuredly, that thou shalt

not freely escape from my fingers, till I have justly paide thee for

thy paines, to teach thee to abuse any Gentleman, as thou didst me.

Having thus spoken, hee called to his servant, saying. Give her the

Garments, and bid her go looke her Lady, if she will. The Servingman

fulfilled his Masters command, and _Ancilla_ having receyved her Ladies

cloaths, knowing them perfectly, and remembring (withall) what had

bin said: she waxed very doubtfull, least they had slaine her, hardly

refraining from exclaiming on them, but that greefe and heavie weeping

overcame her; so that uppon the Schollers departing, she ranne in all

hast with the garments towardes the Tower.

Upon this fatall and unfortunate day to Madame _Helena_, it chanced,

that a Clowne or Countrey Peazant belonging to her Farme or Dairy

house, having two of his young Heyfers wandred astray, and he

labouring in diligent search to finde them: within a while after the

Schollers departure, came to seeke them in Woods about the Tower, and,

notwithstanding all his crying and calling for his beasts, yet he

heard the Ladies greevous moanes and lamentations. Wherefore, he cryed

out so lowd as he could, saying: Who is it that mourneth so aloft on

the Tower? Full well she knew the voyce of her peazant, and therefore

called unto him, and sayd in this manner.

Go (quoth she) I pray thee for my Waiting-woman _Ancilla_, and bid her

make some meanes to come up hither to me. The Clowne knowing his Lady,

sayde. How now Madame? Who hath carried you up there so high? Your

Woman _Ancilla_ hath sought for you all this day, yet no one could ever

have immagined you to bee there. So looking about him, he espyed the

two sides of the Ladder, which the Scholler had pulled in sunder; as

also the steppes, which he had scattered thereabout; placing them in

due order againe as they should bee, and binding them fast with Withies

and Willowes.

By this time _Ancilla_ was come thither, who so soone as shee was

entred into the Tower, could not refrain from teares & complaints,

beating her hands each against other, and crying out. Madam, Madam, my

deare Lady and Mistresse! Alas, Where are you? So soone as she heard

the tongue of _Ancilla_, she replyed (so well as she could) saying: Ah

my sweet Woman, I am heere aloft uppon the Tarras; weepe not, neyther

make any noyse, but quickely bring me some of my Garments. When shee

heard her answer in such comfortable manner, she mounted up the Ladder,

which the peazant had made very firme and strong, holding it fast

for her safer ascending; by which meanes she went upon the Tarras.

Beholding her Ladie in so strange a condition, resembling no humane

body, but rather the trunke of a Tree halfe burned, lying flat on her

face, naked, scorched and strangely deformed: shee beganne to teare the

lockes of her owne hayre, raving and raging in as pittifull manner,

as if her Ladie had beene quite dead. Which storming tempest, Madame

_Helena_ soone pacified, entreating her to use silence, and helpe to

put on her garments.

Having understood by her, that no one knew of her being there, but such

as brought her cloathes, and the poore peazant, attending there still

to do her any service: shee became the better comforted, entreating

them by all meanes, that it might bee concealed from any further

discovery, which was on eyther side, most faithfullie protested.

The poore Clowne holpe to beare downe his Lady uppon his backe, because

the Ladder stood not conveniently enough for her descending, neither

were her limbes plyable for her owne use, by reason of their rifts and

smarting. _Ancilla_ following after, and being more respective of her

Lady, then her owne security in descending; missing the step in the

midst of the Ladder, fell downe to the ground, and quite brake her

legge in the fall, the paine whereof was so greevous to her, that she

cried and roared extraordinarily, even like a Lyon in the desert.

When the Clowne had set his Lady safe on a faire green banke, he

returned to see what the waiting woman ayled, and finding her leg to

be quite broken: he caried her also to the same banke, & there seated

her by her Lady: who perceiving what a mischance had hapned, and she,

from whom she expected her onely best helpe, to bee now in far greater

necessity her selfe: shee lamented exceedingly, complaining on Fortunes

cruel malice toward her, in thus heaping one misery upon another, and

never ceasing to torment her, especially now in the conclusion of all,

and when shee thought all future perils to be past.

Now was the Sun upon his setting, when the poore honest country-man,

because darke night should not overtake them, conducted the Lady home

to his owne house: and gaining the assistance of his two brethren and

wife, setting the waiting-woman in a Chaire, thither they brought

her in like manner. And questionles, there wanted no diligence and

comfortable language, to pacifie the Ladyes continuall lamentations.

The good wife, led the Lady into hir own poore lodging, where (such

cates as they had to feede on) lovingly she set before her: conveying

her afterward into her owne bed, and taking such good order, that

_Ancilla_ was carried in the night time to _Florence_, to prevent all

further ensuing danger, by reason of her legs breaking.

Madame _Helena_, to colour this misfortune of her owne: as also the

great mishap of her woman: forged an artificiall and cunning tale, to

give some formall apparance of hir being in the Tower, perswading the

poore simple Country people, that in a straunge accident of thunder and

lightning, and by the illusions of wicked spirits, all this adventure

hapned to her. Then Physitians were sent for; who, not without much

anguish and affliction to the Ladie (by reason of her fleshes flaying

off, with the Medicines and Emplaysters applyed to the body) was glad

to suffer whatsoever they did, beside falling into a very dangerous

Feaver; out of which she was not recovered in a long while after, but

continued in daily dispayre of her life; beside other accidents hapning

in her time of Physicke, utterly unavoydable in such extreamities: and

hardly had _Ancilla_ her legge cured.

By this unexpected pennance imposed on Madame _Helena_, she utterly

forgot her amorous friend, and (from thence forward) carefully kept

her selfe from fond loves allurements, and such scornfull behaviour,

wherein she was most disorderly faulty. And _Reniero_ the Scholler,

understanding that _Ancilla_ had broken her leg, which he reputed as a

punishment sufficient for her, held himselfe satisfyed, because neither

the Mistresse nor her Maide, could now make any great boast, of his

nights hard entertainment, and so concealed all matters else.

Thus a wanton-headed Lady, could finde no other subject to worke her

mocking folly on, but a learned Scholler, of whom shee made no more

respect, then any other ordinary man. Never remembring, that such men

are expert (I cannot say all, but the greater part of them) to helpe

the frenzie of foolish Ladies, that must injoy their loose desires, by

Negromancy, and the Divelles meanes. Let it therefore (faire Ladies)

be my loving admonition to you, to detest all unwomanly mocking and

scorning, but more especiallie to Schollers.

_Two neere dwelling Neighbours, the one beeing named_ Spinelloccio

Tavena, _and the other_ Zeppa di Mino, _frequenting each others company

daily together;_ Spinelloccio _Cuckolded his Friend and Neighbour.

Which happening to the knowledge of_ Zeppa, _he prevailed so well with

the Wife of_ Spinelloccio, _that he being lockt up in a Chest, he

revenged his wrong at that instant, so that neither of them complained

of his misfortune._

The Eight Novell.

_Wherein is approved, that he which offereth shame and disgrace to his

Neighbour; may receive the like injury (if not in worse manner) by the

same man._

Greevous, and full of compassion, appeared the hard Fortunes of Madame

_Helena_ to be, having much discontented, and (well-neere) wearied all

the Ladies in hearing them recounted. But because they were very justly

inflicted upon her, and according as (in equity) shee had deserved,

they were the more moderate in their commisseration: howbeit, they

reputed the Scholler not onely over-obstinate, but also too strict,

rigorous and severe. Wherefore, when Madame _Pampinea_ had finished hir

Novell, the Queene gave command to Madame _Fiammetta_, that she should

follow next with her discourse; whereto shee shewing obedience, thus

beganne.

Because it appeareth in my judgement (faire Ladyes) that the Schollers

cruelty hath much displeased you, making you more melancholly then

this time requireth: I holde it therefore very convenient, that your

contristed spirits should be chearfully revived, with matter more

pleasing and delightfull. And therefore, I mean to report a Novell of a

certaine man, who tooke an injury done him, in much milder manner, and

revenged his wrong more moderately, then the furious incensed Scholler

did. Whereby you may comprehend, that it is sufficient for any man, and

so he ought to esteeme it, to serve another with the same sawce, which

the offending party caused him first to taste of: without coveting any

stricter revenge, then agreeth with the quality of the injury received.

Know then (Gracious assembly) that, as I have heretofore heard, there

lived not long since in _Sienna_, two young men, of honest parentage

and equall condition, neither of the best, nor yet the meanest calling

in the City: the one being named _Spinelloccio Tavena_, and the other

tearmed _Zeppa di Mino_, their houses Neighbouring together in the

streete _Camollia_. Seldome the one walked abroade without the others

Company, and their houses allowed equall welcome to them both; so that

by outward demonstrations, & inward mutuall affection, as far as humane

capacity had power to extend, they lived and loved like two Brethren,

they both beeing wealthy, and married unto two beautifull women.

It came to passe, that _Spinelloccio_, by often resorting to the

house of _Zeppa_, as well in his absence, as when he abode at home;

beganne to glance amorous looks on _Zeppaes_ wife, and pursued his

unneighbourly purpose in such sort: that hee being the stronger

perswader, and she (belike) too credulous in beleeving, or else

over-feeble in resisting; from private imparlance, they fell to action;

and continued their close fight a long while together, unseene and

without suspition, no doubt to their equall joy and contentment.

But, whether as a just punishment, for breaking so loving a league of

friendship and neighbour-hood, or rather a fatall infliction, evermore

attending on the closest Cuckoldry, their felicity still continuing

in this kinde: it fortuned on a day, _Zeppa_ abiding within doors,

contrary to the knowledge of his wife, _Spinelloccio_ came to enquire

for him, and she answering (as she verily supposed) that he was gon

abroad: uppe they went both together into the Hall, and nobodie

being there to hinder what they intended, they fell to their wonted

recreation without any feare, kissing and embracing as Lovers use to do.

_Zeppa_ seeing all this, spake not one word, neither made any noise at

all; but kept himselfe closely hidden, to observe the yssue of this

amorous conflict. To be briefe, he saw _Spinelloccio_ goe with his wife

into the Chamber, and make the doore fast after them, whereat he could

have beene angry, which he held to be no part of true wisedome. For he

knew well enough, that to make an out crie in this case, or otherwise

to reveale this kinde of injury, it could no way make it lesse, but

rather give a greater addition of shame and scandall: he thought this

no course for him to take; wiser considerations entred his braine, to

have this wrong fully revenged, yet with such a discreete and orderly

carriage, as no neighbours knowledge should by any meanes apprehend it,

or the least signe of discontent in himselfe blabbe it, because they

were two daungerous evils.

Many notable courses wheeled about his conceit, every one promising

fairely, and ministring meanes of formall apparance, yet one (above

the rest) wonne his absolute allowance, which he intended to prosecute

as best he might. In which resolution, he kept still very close, so

long as _Spinelloccio_ was with his Wife; but hee being gone, he went

into the Chamber, where he found his wife, amending the forme of her

head attyre, which _Spinelloccio_ had put into a disordred fashion.

Wife (quoth he) what art thou doing? Why? Do you not see Husband?

answered she. Yes that I do wife, replied _Zeppa_, and something else

happened to my sight, which I could wish that I had not seene. Rougher

Language growing betweene them, of his avouching, and her as stout

denying, with defending her cause over-weakely, against the manifest

proofes both of eye and eare; at last she fell on her knees before

him, weeping incessantly, and no excuses now availing, she confest her

long acquaintance with _Spinelloccio_, and most humbly entreated him

to forgive her. Uppon the which penitent confession and submission,

_Zeppa_ thus answered.

Wife, if inward contrition be answerable to thy outward seeming sorrow,

then I make no doubt, but faithfully thou dost acknowledge thine owne

evill dooing: for which, if thou expectest pardon of me; determine

then to fulfill effectually, such a busines as I must enjoyne, and

thou performe. I command thee to tell _Spinelloccio_, that to morrow

morning, about nine of the clocke, we being both abroad walking, he

must finde some apt occasion to leave my company, and then come hither

to visit thee. When he is here, sodainly will I returne home; and upon

thy hearing of my entraunce: to save his owne credite, and thee from

detection, thou shalt require him to enter this Chest, untill such time

as I am gone forth againe; which he doing, for both your safeties, so

soon as he is in the chest, take the key and locke him up fast. When

thou hast effected this, then shall I acquaint thee with the rest

remaining, which also must be done by thee, without dread of the least

harme to him or thee, because there is no malicious meaning in me, but

such as (I am perswaded) thou canst not justly mislike. The wife, to

make some satisfaction for her offence committed, promised that she

would performe it, and so she did.

On the morrow morning, the houre of nine being come, when _Zeppa_

and _Spinelloccio_ were walking abroad together, _Spinelloccio_

remembring his promise unto his Mistresse, and the clocke telling him

the appointed houre, hee saide to _Zeppa_. I am to dine this day with

an especiall friend of mine, who I would be loath should tarry for my

comming; and therefore holde my departure excused. How now? answered

_Zeppa_, the time for dinner is yet farre enough off, wherefore then

should we part so soone? Yea but _Zeppa_, replied _Spinelloccio_, wee

have weighty matters to confer on before dinner, which will require

three houres space at the least, and therefore it behoveth me to

respect due time.

_Spinelloccio_ being departed from Zeppa (who followed faire and softly

after him) being come to the house, and kindly welcommed by the wife:

they were no sooner gone up the staires, and entering in at the Chamber

doore; but the Woman heard her Husband cough, and also his comming up

the staires. Alas deare _Spinelloccio_ (quoth she) what shall we do? My

Husband is comming uppe, and we shall be both taken tardie, step into

this Chest, lye downe there and stirre not, till I have sent him forth

againe, which shall be within a very short while. _Spinelloccio_ was

not a little joyfull for her good advice; downe in the Chest lay he,

and she lockt him in: by which time _Zeppa_ was entred the Chamber.

Where are you Wife? said he, (speaking so loud, as hee in the Chest

might heare him) What, is it time to go to dinner? It will be anon Sir,

answered she, as yet it is overearly; but seeing you are come, the more

hast shall be made, and every thing will be ready quickly.

_Zeppa_, sitting downe upon the Chest, wherein _Spinelloccio_ lay not a

little affrighted, speaking still aloud, as formerly he did: Come hither

Wife (quoth he) how shall we do for some good companie to dine with

us? Mine honest kinde neighbour _Spinelloccio_ is not at home, because

he dineth forth to day with a deare friend of his, by which meanes,

his wife is left at home alone: give her a call out at our Window, and

desire her to come dine with us: for we two can make no merry Musicke,

except some more come to fill up the consort.

His Wife being very timorous, yet diligent to doe whatsoever he

commanded, so prevailed with the Wife of _Spinelloccio_: that she came

to them quickely, and so much the rather, because her Husband dined

abroad. Shee being come up into the Chamber, _Zeppa_ gave her most

kinde entertainment, taking her gently by the hand, and winking on his

Wife, that she should betake her selfe to the kitchin, to see dinner

speedily prepared, while he sat conversing with his neighbour in the

Chamber.

His wife being gone, he shut the doore after her, which the new-come

Neighbour perceyving, she sayde. Our blessed Lady defend me. _Zeppa_,

What is your meaning in this? Have you caused me to come hither to

this intent? Is this the love you beare to _Spinelloccio_, and your

professed loyalty in friendshippe? _Zeppa_, seating her downe on the

Chest, wherein her Husband was inclosed, entreating her patience, thus

began. Kinde and loving Neighbour, before you adventure too farre in

anger, vouchsafe to heare what I shall tell you.

I have loved, and still doe love, _Spinelloccio_ as my brother, but

yesterday (albeit he knoweth it not) I found, the honest trust I

reposed in him, deserved no other, or better recompence, but even to be

bold with my wife, in the selfesame manner as I am, and as hee ought

to do with none but you. Now, in regard of the love which I beare him,

I intend to be no otherwise revenged on him, but in the same kinde as

the offence was committed. He hath bin more then familiar with my wife,

I must borrow the selfe-same courtesie of you, which in equity you

cannot deny mee, weighing the wrong you have sustained by my wife. Our

injuries are alike, in your Husband to me, and in my wife to you: let

then their punishment and ours be alike also, as they, so we; for in

this case there can be no juster revenge.

The Woman hearing this, and perceiving the manifolde confirmations

thereof, protested (on solemne oath) by _Zeppa_; hir beliefe grew

setled, and thus she answered. My loving neighbour** _Zeppa_, seeing this

kinde of revenge is (in meere justice) imposed on mee, and ordained as

a due scourge, as well to the breach of friendship and neighbour-hood,

as abuse of his true and loyall wife: I am the more willing to consent:

alwaies provided, that it be no imbarrement of love betweene your wife

and mee, albeit I have good reason to alledge, that she began the

quarrell first: and what I do is but to right my wrong, as any other

woman of spirit would do: Afterwards, we may the more easily pardon one

another. For breach of peace (answered _Zeppa_) between my wife and

you, take my honest word for your warrant. Moreover, in requitall of

this favour to mee, I will bestowe a deare and precious Jewell on you,

excelling all the rest which you have beside.