The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
'Ay,' said Belcolore, 'you are all like this, great promisers, and
after perform nothing to any. Think you to do with me as you did with
Biliuzza, who went off with the ghittern-player?[368] Cock's faith,
then, you shall not, for that she is turned a common drab only for
that. If you have them not about you, go for them.' 'Alack,' cried the
priest, 'put me not upon going all the way home. Thou seest that I
have the luck just now to find thee alone, but maybe, when I return,
there will be some one or other here to hinder us; and I know not when
I shall find so good an opportunity again.' Quoth she, 'It is well; an
you choose to go, go; if not, go without.'
[Footnote 367: Or apron.]
[Footnote 368: _Se n'andò col ceteratojo_; a proverbial expression of
similar meaning to our "was whistled down the wind," _i.e._ was
lightly dismissed without provision, like a cast-off hawk.]
The priest, seeing that she was not in the humour to do his pleasure
without a _salvum me fac_, whereas he would fain have done it _sine
custodiâ_, said, 'Harkye, thou believest not that I will bring thee
the money; but, so thou mayst credit me, I will leave thee this my
blue-cloth cloak.' Belcolore raised her eyes and said, 'Eh what! That
cloak? What is it worth?' 'Worth?' answered the priest. 'I would have
thee know that it is cloth of Douay, nay, Threeay, and there be some
of our folk here who hold it for Fouray.[369] It is scarce a fortnight
since it cost me seven crowns of hard money to Lotto the broker, and
according to what Buglietto telleth me (and thou knowest he is a judge
of this kind of cloth), I had it good five shillings overcheap.'
'Indeed!' quoth Belcolore. 'So God be mine aid, I had never thought
it. But give it me first of all.' My lord priest, who had his arbalest
ready cocked, pulled off the cloak and gave it her; and she, after she
had laid it up, said, 'Come, sir, let us go into the barn, for no one
ever cometh there.' And so they did. There the priest gave her the
heartiest busses in the world and making her sib to God Almighty,[370]
solaced himself with her a great while; after which he took leave of
her and returned to the parsonage in his cassock, as it were he came
from officiating at a wedding.
[Footnote 369: A play of words upon the Italian equivalent of the
French word Douay (_Duagio, i.e. Twoay, Treagio, Quattragio_) invented
by the roguish priest to impose upon the simple goodwife.]
[Footnote 370: Or in modern parlance, "making her a connection by
marriage of etc.," Boccaccio feigning priests to be members of the
Holy Family, by virtue of their office.]
There, bethinking himself that all the candle-ends he got by way of
offertory in all the year were not worth the half of five crowns,
himseemed he had done ill and repenting him of having left the cloak,
he fell to considering how he might have it again without cost. Being
shrewd enough in a small way, he soon hit upon a device and it
succeeded to his wish; for that on the morrow, it being a holiday, he
sent a neighbour's lad of his to Mistress Belcolore's house, with a
message praying her be pleased to lend him her stone mortar, for that
Binguccio dal Poggio and Nuto Buglietti were to dine with him that
morning and he had a mind to make sauce. She sent it to him and
towards dinner-time, the priest, having spied out when Bentivegna and
his wife were at meat together, called his clerk and said to him,
'Carry this mortar back to Belcolore and say to her, 'His reverence
biddeth you gramercy and prayeth you send him back the cloak that the
boy left you by way of token.' The clerk accordingly repaired to her
house and there, finding her at table with Bentivegna, set down the
mortar and did the priest's errand. Belcolore, hearing require the
cloak again, would have answered; but her husband said, with an angry
air, 'Takest thou a pledge of his reverence? I vow to Christ, I have a
mind to give thee a good clout over the head! Go, give it quickly back
to him, pox take thee! And in future, let him ask what he will of
ours, (ay, though he should seek our ass,) look that it be not denied
him.' Belcolore rose, grumbling, and pulling the cloak out of the
chest, gave it to the clerk, saying, 'Tell her reverence from me,
Belcolore saith, she voweth to God you shall never again pound sauce
in her mortar; you have done her no such fine honour of this bout.'
The clerk made off with the cloak and did her message to the priest,
who said, laughing, 'Tell her, when thou seest her, that, an she will
not lend me her mortar, I will not lend her my pestle; and so we shall
be quits.' Bentivegna concluded that his wife had said this, because
he had chidden her, and took no heed thereof; but Belcolore bore the
priest a grudge and held him at arm's length till vintage-time; when,
he having threatened to cause her go into the mouth of Lucifer the
great devil, for very fear she made her peace with him over must and
roast chestnuts and they after made merry together time and again. In
lieu of the five crowns, the priest let put new parchment to her
tabret and string thereto a cast of hawk's bells, and with this she
was fain to be content."
THE THIRD STORY
[Day the Eighth]
CALANDRINO, BRUNO AND BUFFALMACCO GO COASTING ALONG THE
MUGNONE IN SEARCH OF THE HELIOTROPE AND CALANDRINO THINKETH
TO HAVE FOUND IT. ACCORDINGLY HE RETURNETH HOME, LADEN WITH
STONES, AND HIS WIFE CHIDETH HIM; WHEREUPON, FLYING OUT INTO
A RAGE, HE BEATETH HER AND RECOUNTETH TO HIS COMPANIONS THAT
WHICH THEY KNOW BETTER THAN HE
Pamfilo having made an end of his story, at which the ladies had
laughed so much that they laugh yet, the queen bade Elisa follow on,
who, still laughing, began, "I know not, charming ladies, if with a
little story of mine, no less true than pleasant, I shall succeed in
making you laugh as much as Pamfilo hath done with his; but I will do
my endeavor thereof.
In our city, then, which hath ever abounded in various fashions and
strange folk, there was once, no great while since, a painter called
Calandrino, a simple-witted man and of strange usances. He companied
most of his time with other two painters, called the one Bruno and the
other Buffalmacco, both very merry men, but otherwise well-advised and
shrewd, who consorted with Calandrino for that they ofttimes had great
diversion of his fashions and his simplicity. There was then also in
Florence a young man of a mighty pleasant humor and marvellously
adroit in all he had a mind to do, astute and plausible, who was
called Maso del Saggio, and who, hearing certain traits of
Calandrino's simplicity, determined to amuse himself at his expense
by putting off some cheat on him or causing him believe some strange
thing. He chanced one day to come upon him in the church of San
Giovanni and seeing him intent upon the carved work and paintings of
the pyx, which is upon the altar of the said church and which had then
not long been placed there, he judged the place and time opportune for
carrying his intent into execution. Accordingly, acquainting a friend
of his with that which he purposed to do, they both drew near unto the
place where Calandrino sat alone and feigning not to see him, fell
a-discoursing together of the virtues of divers stones, whereof Maso
spoke as authoritatively as if he had been a great and famous
lapidary.
Calandrino gave ear to their talk and presently, seeing that it was no
secret, he rose to his feet and joined himself to them, to the no
small satisfaction of Maso, who, pursuing his discourse, was asked by
Calandrino where these wonder-working stones were to be found. Maso
replied that the most of them were found in Berlinzone, a city of the
Basques, in a country called Bengodi,[371] where the vines are tied up
with sausages and a goose is to be had for a farthing[372] and a
gosling into the bargain, and that there was a mountain all of grated
Parmesan cheese, whereon abode folk who did nothing but make maccaroni
and ravioli[373] and cook them in capon-broth, after which they threw
them down thence and whoso got most thereof had most; and that hard by
ran a rivulet of vernage,[374] the best ever was drunk, without a drop
of water therein. 'Marry,' cried Calandrino, 'that were a fine
country; but tell me, what is done with the capons that they boil for
broth?' Quoth Maso, 'The Basques eat them all.' Then said Calandrino,
'Wast thou ever there?' 'Was I ever there, quotha!' replied Maso. 'If
I have been there once I have been there a thousand times.' 'And how
many miles is it distant hence?' asked Calandrino; and Maso, 'How
many? a million or more; you might count them all night and not know.'
'Then,' said Calandrino, 'it must be farther off than the Abruzzi?'
'Ay, indeed,' answered Maso; 'it is a trifle farther.'
[Footnote 371: _i.e._ Good cheer.]
[Footnote 372: A play upon the double meaning of _a denajo_, which
signifies also "for money."]
[Footnote 373: A kind of rissole made of eggs, sweet herbs and
cheese.]
[Footnote 374: _Vernaccia_, a kind of rich white wine like Malmsey.]
Calandrino, like a simpleton as he was, hearing Maso tell all this
with an assured air and without laughing, gave such credence thereto
as can be given to whatsoever verity is most manifest and so, holding
it for truth, said, 'That is overfar for my money; though, were it
nearer, I tell thee aright I would go thither with thee once upon a
time, if but to see the maccaroni come tumbling headlong down and take
my fill thereof. But tell me, God keep thee merry, is there none of
those wonder-working stones to be found in these parts?' 'Ay is
there,' answered Maso; 'there be two kinds of stones of very great
virtue found here; the first are the grits of Settignano and Montisci,
by virtue whereof, when they are wrought into millstones, flour is
made; wherefore it is said in those parts that grace cometh from God
and millstones from Montisci; but there is such great plenty of these
grits that they are as little prized with us as emeralds with the folk
over yonder, where they have mountains of them bigger than Mount
Morello, which shine in the middle of the night, I warrant thee. And
thou must know that whoso should cause set fine and perfect
millstones, before they are pierced, in rings and carry them to the
Soldan might have for them what he would. The other is what we
lapidaries call Heliotrope, a stone of exceeding great virtue, for
that whoso hath it about him is not seen of any other person whereas
he is not, what while he holdeth it.' Quoth Calandrino, 'These be
indeed great virtues; but where is this second stone found?' To which
Maso replied that it was commonly found in the Mugnone. 'What bigness
is this stone,' asked Calandrino, 'and what is its colour?' Quoth
Maso, 'It is of various sizes, some more and some less; but all are
well nigh black of colour.'
Calandrino noted all this in himself and feigning to have otherwhat to
do, took leave of Maso, inwardly determined to go seek the stone in
question, but bethought himself not to do it without the knowledge of
Bruno and Buffalmacco, whom he most particularly affected. Accordingly
he addressed himself to seek for them, so they might, without delay
and before any else, set about the search, and spent all the rest of
the morning seeking them. At last, when it was past none, he
remembered him that they were awork in the Ladies' Convent at Faenza
and leaving all his other business, he betook himself thither well
nigh at a run, notwithstanding the great heat. As soon as he saw them,
he called them and bespoke them thus: 'Comrades, an you will hearken
to me, we may become the richest men in all Florence, for that I have
learned from a man worthy of belief that in the Mugnone is to be found