The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
they came overagainst the plain of Mugnone, it being by this night;
then, turning about, as they were on their way back from Romagna, they
made for the good man's house and knocked at the door. The host, being
very familiar with both of them, promptly opened the door and Pinuccio
said to him, 'Look you, thou must needs harbour us this night. We
thought to reach Florence before dark, but have not availed to make
such haste but that we find ourselves here, as thou seest at this
hour.' 'Pinuccio,' answered the host, 'thou well knowest how little
commodity I have to lodge such men as you are; however, since the
night hath e'en overtaken you here and there is no time for you to go
otherwhere, I will gladly harbour you as I may.' The two young men
accordingly alighted and entered the inn, where they first eased[434]
their hackneys and after supper with the host, having taken good care
to bring provision with them.
[Footnote 434: _Adagiarono_, _i.e._ unsaddled and stabled and fed
them.]
Now the good man had but one very small bedchamber, wherein were three
pallet-beds set as best he knew, two at one end of the room and the
third overagainst them at the other end; nor for all that was there so
much space left that one could go there otherwise than straitly. The
least ill of the three the host let make ready for the two friends and
put them to lie there; then, after a while neither of the gentlemen
being asleep, though both made a show thereof, he caused his daughter
betake herself to bed in one of the two others and lay down himself
in the third, with his wife, who set by the bedside the cradle wherein
she had her little son. Things being ordered after this fashion and
Pinuccio having seen everything, after a while, himseeming that every
one was asleep, he arose softly and going to the bed where slept the
girl beloved of him, laid himself beside the latter, by whom, for all
she did it timorously, he was joyfully received, and with her he
proceeded to take of that pleasure which both most desired. Whilst
Pinuccio abode thus with his mistress, it chanced that a cat caused
certain things fall, which the good wife, awaking, heard; whereupon,
fearing lest it were otherwhat, she arose, as she was, in the dark and
betook herself whereas she had heard the noise.
Meanwhile, Adriano, without intent aforethought, arose by chance for
some natural occasion and going to despatch this, came upon the
cradle, whereas it had been set by the good wife, and unable to pass
without moving it, took it up and set it down beside his own bed;
then, having accomplished that for which he had arisen, he returned
and betook himself to bed again, without recking of the cradle. The
good wife, having searched and found the thing which had fallen was
not what she thought, never troubled herself to kindle a light, to see
it, but, chiding the cat, returned to the chamber and groped her way
to the bed where her husband lay. Finding the cradle not there, 'Mercy
o' me!' quoth she in herself. 'See what I was about to do! As I am a
Christian, I had well nigh gone straight to our guest's bed.' Then,
going a little farther and finding the cradle, she entered the bed
whereby it stood and laid herself down beside Adriano, thinking to
couch with her husband. Adriano, who was not yet asleep, feeling this,
received her well and joyously and laying her aboard in a trice,
clapped on all sail, to the no small contentment of the lady.
Meanwhile, Pinuccio, fearing lest sleep should surprise him with his
lass and having taken of her his fill of pleasure, arose from her, to
return to his own bed, to sleep, and finding the cradle in his way,
took the adjoining bed for that of his host; wherefore, going a little
farther, he lay down with the latter, who awoke at his coming.
Pinuccio, deeming himself beside Adriano, said, 'I tell thee there
never was so sweet a creature as is Niccolosa. Cock's body, I have had
with her the rarest sport ever man had with woman, more by token that
I have gone upwards of six times into the country, since I left thee.'
The host, hearing this talk and being not overwell pleased therewith,
said first in himself, 'What a devil doth this fellow here?' Then,
more angered than well-advised, 'Pinuccio,' quoth he, 'this hath been
a great piece of villainy of thine, and I know not why thou shouldst
have used me thus; but, by the body of God, I will pay thee for it!!'
Pinuccio, who was not the wisest lad in the world, seeing his mistake,
addressed not himself to mend it as best he might, but said, 'Of what
wilt thou pay me? What canst thou do to me?' Therewithal the hostess,
who thought herself with her husband, said to Adriano, 'Good lack,
hark to our guests how they are at I know not what words together!'
Quoth Adriano, laughing, 'Leave them do, God land them in an ill
year! They drank overmuch yesternight.'
The good wife, herseeming she had heard her husband scold and hearing
Adriano speak, incontinent perceived where and with whom she had been;
whereupon, like a wise woman as she was, she arose forthright, without
saying a word, and taking her little son's cradle, carried it at a
guess, for that there was no jot of light to be seen in the chamber,
to the side of the bed where her daughter slept and lay down with the
latter; then, as if she had been aroused by her husband's clamour, she
called him and enquired what was to do between himself and Pinuccio.
He answered, 'Hearest thou not what he saith he hath done this night
unto Niccolosa?' 'Marry,' quoth she, 'he lieth in his throat, for he
was never abed with Niccolosa, seeing that I have lain here all night;
more by token that I have not been able to sleep a wink; and thou art
an ass to believe him. You men drink so much of an evening that you do
nothing but dream all night and fare hither and thither, without
knowing it, and fancy you do wonders. 'Tis a thousand pities you don't
break your necks. But what doth Pinuccio yonder? Why bideth he not in
his own bed?' Adriano, on his part, seeing how adroitly the good wife
went about to cover her own shame and that of her daughter, chimed in
with, 'Pinuccio, I have told thee an hundred times not to go abroad,
for that this thy trick of arising in thy sleep and telling for true
the extravagances thou dreamest will bring thee into trouble some day
or other. Come back here, God give thee an ill night!'
The host, hearing what his wife and Adriano said, began to believe in
good earnest that Pinuccio was dreaming; and accordingly, taking him
by the shoulders, he fell to shaking and calling him, saying,
'Pinuccio, awake; return to thine own bed.' Pinuccio having
apprehended all that had been said began to wander off into other
extravagances, after the fashion of a man a-dream; whereat the host
set up the heartiest laughter in the world. At last, he made believe
to awake for stress of shaking, and calling to Adriano, said, 'Is it
already day, that thou callest me?' 'Ay,' answered the other, 'come
hither.' Accordingly, Pinuccio, dissembling and making a show of being
sleepy-eyed, arose at last from beside the host and went back to bed
with Adriano. The day come and they being risen, the host fell to
laughing and mocking at Pinuccio and his dreams; and so they passed
from one jest to another, till the young men, having saddled their
rounceys and strapped on their valises and drunken with the host,
remounted to horse and rode away to Florence, no less content with the
manner in which the thing had betided than with the effect itself
thereof. Thereafter Pinuccio found other means of foregathering with
Niccolosa, who vowed to her mother that he had certainly dreamt the
thing; wherefore the goodwife, remembering her of Adriano's
embracements, inwardly avouched herself alone to have waked."
THE SEVENTH STORY
[Day the Ninth]
TALANO DI MOLESE DREAMETH THAT A WOLF MANGLETH ALL HIS
WIFE'S NECK AND FACE AND BIDDETH HER BEWARE THEREOF; BUT SHE
PAYETH NO HEED TO HIS WARNING AND IT BEFALLETH HER EVEN AS
HE HAD DREAMED
Pamfilo's story being ended and the goodwife's presence of mind having
been commended of all, the queen bade Pampinea tell hers and she
thereupon began, "It hath been otherwhile discoursed among us,
charming ladies, of the truths foreshown by dreams, the which many of
our sex scoff at; wherefore, notwithstanding that which hath been said
thereof, I shall not scruple to tell you, in a very few words, that
which no great while ago befell a she-neighbour of mine for not giving
credit to a dream of herself seen by her husband.
I know not if you were acquainted with Talano di Molese, a very
worshipful man, who took to wife a young lady called Margarita, fair
over all others, but so humoursome, ill-conditioned and froward that
she would do nought of other folk's judgment, nor could others do
aught to her liking; the which, irksome as it was to Talano to endure,
natheless, as he could no otherwise, needs must he put up with. It
chanced one night that, being with this Margarita of his at an estate
he had in the country, himseemed in his sleep he saw his wife go
walking in a very fair wood which they had not far from their house,
and as she went, himseemed there came forth of a thicket a great and
fierce wolf, which sprang straight at her throat and pulling her to
the ground, enforced himself to carry her off, whilst she screamed for
aid; and after, she winning free of his fangs, it seemed he had marred
all her throat and face. Accordingly, when he arose in the morning, he
said to the lady, 'Wife, albeit thy frowardness hath never suffered me
to have a good day with thee, yet it would grieve me should ill betide
thee; wherefore, an thou wilt hearken to my counsel, thou wilt not go
forth the house to-day'; and being asked of her why, he orderly
recounted to her his dream.
The lady shook her head and said, 'Who willeth thee ill, dreameth thee
ill. Thou feignest thyself mighty careful of me; but thou dreamest of
me that which thou wouldst fain see come to pass; and thou mayst be
assured that I will be careful both to-day and always not to gladden
thee with this or other mischance of mine.' Quoth Talano, 'I knew thou
wouldst say thus; for that such thanks still hath he who combeth a
scald-head; but, believe as thou listeth, I for my part tell it to
thee for good, and once more I counsel thee abide at home to-day or at
least beware of going into our wood.' 'Good,' answered the lady, 'I
will do it'; and after fell a-saying to herself, 'Sawest thou how
artfully yonder man thinketh to have feared me from going to our wood
to-day? Doubtless he hath given some trull or other tryst there and
would not have me find him with her. Marry, it were fine eating for
him with blind folk and I should be a right simpleton an I saw not his
drift and if I believed him! But certes he shall not have his will;
nay, though I abide there all day, needs must I see what traffic is
this that he hath in hand to-day.'
Accordingly, her husband being gone out at one door, she went out at
the other and betook herself as most secretly she might straight to
the wood and hid herself in the thickest part thereof, standing attent
and looking now here and now there, an she should see any one come. As
she abode on this wise, without any thought of danger, behold, there
sallied forth of a thick coppice hard by a terrible great wolf, and
scarce could she say, 'Lord, aid me!' when it flew at her throat and
laying fast hold of her, proceeded to carry her off, as she were a
lambkin. She could neither cry nor aid herself on other wise, so sore
was her gullet straitened; wherefore the wolf, carrying her off, would
assuredly have throttled her, had he not encountered certain
shepherds, who shouted at him and constrained him to loose her. The