The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
Moreover, he charged a discreet servant of his that he should study,
by such means as seemed to him best, to ride with Messer Ruggieri on
such wise that he should not appear to have been sent by the king, and
note everything he should say of him, so as he might avail to repeat
it to him, and that on the ensuing morning he should command him
return to the court. Accordingly, the servant, lying in wait for
Messer Ruggieri's departure, accosted him, as he came forth the city,
and very aptly joined company with him, giving him to understand that
he also was bound for Italy. Messer Ruggieri, then, fared on, riding
the mule given him by the king and devising of one thing and another
with the latter's servant, till hard upon tierce, when he said,
'Methinketh it were well done to let our beasts stale.' Accordingly,
they put them up in a stable and they all staled, except the mule;
then they rode on again, whilst the squire still took note of the
gentleman's words, and came presently to a river, where, as they
watered their cattle, the mule staled in the stream; which Messer
Ruggieri seeing, 'Marry,' quoth he, 'God confound thee, beast, for
that thou art made after the same fashion as the prince who gave thee
to me!' The squire noted these words and albeit he took store of many
others, as he journeyed with him all that day, he heard him say nought
else but what was to the highest praise of the king.
Next morning, they being mounted and Ruggieri offering to ride towards
Tuscany, the squire imparted to him the king's commandment, whereupon
he incontinent turned back. When he arrived at court, the king,
learning what he had said of the mule, let call him to himself and
receiving him with a cheerful favour, asked him why he had likened him
to his mule, or rather why he had likened the mule to him. 'My lord,'
replied Ruggieri frankly, 'I likened her to you for that, like as you
give whereas it behoveth not and give not whereas it behoveth, even so
she staled not whereas it behoved, but staled whereas it behoved not.'
Then said the king, 'Messer Ruggieri, if I have not given to you, as I
have given unto many who are of no account in comparison with you, it
happened not because I knew you not for a most valiant cavalier and
worthy of every great gift; nay, but it is your fortune, which hath
not suffered me guerdon you according to your deserts, that hath
sinned in this, and not I; and that I may say sooth I will manifestly
prove to you.' 'My lord,' replied Ruggieri, 'I was not chagrined
because I have gotten no largesse of you, for that I desire not to be
richer than I am, but because you have on no wise borne witness to my
merit. Natheless, I hold your excuse for good and honourable and am
ready to see that which it shall please you show me, albeit I believe
you without proof.' The king then carried him into a great hall of
his, where, as he had ordered it beforehand, were two great locked
coffers, and said to him, in presence of many, 'Messer Ruggieri, in
one of these coffers is my crown, the royal sceptre and the orb,
together with many goodly girdles and ouches and rings of mine, and in
fine every precious jewel I have; and the other is full of earth.
Take, then, one and be that which you shall take yours; and you may
thus see whether of the twain hath been ungrateful to your worth,
myself of your ill fortune.'
Messer Ruggieri, seeing that it was the king's pleasure, took one of
the coffers, which, being opened by Alfonso's commandment, was found
to be that which was full of earth; whereupon quoth the king,
laughing, 'Now can you see, Messer Ruggieri, that this that I tell you
of your fortune is true; but certes your worth meriteth that I should
oppose myself to her might. I know you have no mind to turn Spaniard
and therefore I will bestow upon you neither castle nor city in these
parts; but this coffer, of which fortune deprived you, I will in her
despite shall be yours, so you may carry it off to your own country
and justly glorify yourself of your worth in the sight of your
countrymen by the witness of my gifts.' Messer Ruggieri accordingly
took the coffer and having rendered the king those thanks which sorted
with such a gift, joyfully returned therewith to Tuscany."
THE SECOND STORY
[Day the Tenth]
GHINO DI TACCO TAKETH THE ABBOT OF CLUNY AND HAVING CURED
HIM OF THE STOMACH-COMPLAINT, LETTETH HIM GO; WHEREUPON THE
ABBOT, RETURNING TO THE COURT OF ROME, RECONCILETH HIM WITH
POPE BONIFACE AND MAKETH HIM A PRIOR OF THE HOSPITALLERS
The magnificence shown by King Alfonso to the Florentine cavalier
having been duly commended, the king, who had been mightily pleased
therewith, enjoined Elisa to follow on, and she straightway began
thus: "Dainty dames, it cannot be denied that for a king to be
munificent and to have shown his munificence to him who had served him
is a great and a praiseworthy thing; but what shall we say if a
churchman be related to have practised marvellous magnanimity towards
one, whom if he had used as an enemy, he had of none been blamed
therefor? Certes, we can say none otherwise than that the king's
magnificence was a virtue, whilst that of the churchman was a miracle,
inasmuch as the clergy are all exceeding niggardly, nay, far more so
than women, and sworn enemies of all manner of liberality; and albeit
all men naturally hunger after vengeance for affronts received, we see
churchmen, for all they preach patience and especially commend the
remission of offences, pursue it more eagerly than other folk. This,
then, to wit, how a churchman was magnanimous, you may manifestly
learn from the following story of mine.
Ghino di Tacco, a man very famous for his cruelty and his robberies,
being expelled [Transcriber's Note: missing 'from'] Siena and at feud
with the Counts of Santa Fiore, raised Radicofani against the Church
of Rome and taking up his sojourn there, caused his swashbucklers
despoil whosoever passed through the surrounding country. Now,
Boniface the Eighth being pope in Rome, there came to court the Abbot
of Cluny, who is believed to be one of the richest prelates in the
world, and having there marred his stomach, he was advised by the
physicians to repair to the baths of Siena and he would without fail
be cured. Accordingly, having gotten the pope's leave, he set out on
his way thither in great pomp of gear and baggage and horses and
servitors, unrecking of Ghino's [ill] report. The latter, hearing of
his coming, spread his nets and hemmed him and all his household and
gear about in a strait place, without letting a single footboy escape.
This done, he despatched to the abbot one, the most sufficient, of his
men, well accompanied, who in his name very lovingly prayed him be
pleased to light down and sojourn with the aforesaid Ghino in his
castle. The abbot, hearing this, answered furiously that he would
nowise do it, having nought to do with Ghino, but that he would fare
on and would fain see who should forbid his passage. Whereto quoth the
messenger on humble wise, 'Sir, you are come into parts where, barring
God His might, there is nothing to fear for us and where
excommunications and interdicts are all excommunicated; wherefore, may
it please you, you were best comply with Ghino in this.'
During this parley, the whole place had been encompassed about with
men-at-arms; wherefore the abbot, seeing himself taken with his men,
betook himself, sore against his will, to the castle, in company with
the ambassador, and with him all his household and gear, and alighting
there, was, by Ghino's orders, lodged all alone in a very dark and
mean little chamber in one of the pavilions, whilst every one else was
well enough accommodated, according to his quality, about the castle
and the horses and all the gear put in safety, without aught thereof
being touched. This done, Ghino betook himself to the abbot and said
to him, 'Sir, Ghino, whose guest you are, sendeth to you, praying you
acquaint him whither you are bound and on what occasion.' The abbot,
like a wise man, had by this laid by his pride and told him whither he
went and why. Ghino, hearing this, took his leave and bethought
himself to go about to cure him without baths. Accordingly, he let
keep a great fire still burning in the little room and causing guard
the place well, returned not to the abbot till the following morning,
when he brought him, in a very white napkin, two slices of toasted
bread and a great beaker of his own Corniglia vernage[441] and
bespoke him thus, 'Sir, when Ghino was young, he studied medicine and
saith that he learned there was no better remedy for the
stomach-complaint than that which he purposeth to apply to you and of
which these things that I bring you are the beginning; wherefore do
you take them and refresh yourself.'
[Footnote 441: See p. 372, note.]
The abbot, whose hunger was greater than his desire to bandy words,
ate the bread and drank the wine, though he did it with an ill will,
and after made many haughty speeches, asking and counselling of many
things and demanding in particular to see Ghino. The latter, hearing
this talk, let part of it pass as idle and answered the rest very
courteously, avouching that Ghino would visit him as quickliest he
might. This said, he took his leave of him and returned not until the
ensuing day, when he brought him as much toasted bread and as much
malmsey; and so he kept him several days, till such time as he
perceived that he had eaten some dried beans, which he had of intent
aforethought brought secretly thither and left there; whereupon he
asked him, on Ghino's part, how he found himself about the stomach.
The abbot answered, 'Meseemeth I should fare well, were I but out of
his hands; and after that, I have no greater desire than to eat, so
well have his remedies cured me.' Thereupon Ghino caused the abbot's
own people array him a goodly chamber with his own gear and let make
ready a magnificent banquet, to which he bade the prelate's whole
household, together with many folk of the burgh. Next morning, he
betook himself to the abbot and said to him, 'Sir, since you feel
yourself well, it is time to leave the infirmary.' Then, taking him by
the hand, he brought him to the chamber prepared for him and leaving
him there in company of his own people, occupied himself with caring
that the banquet should be a magnificent one.
The abbot solaced himself awhile with his men and told them what his
life had been since his capture, whilst they, on the other hand,
avouched themselves all to have been wonder-well entreated of Ghino.
The eating-hour come, the abbot and the rest were well and orderly
served with goodly viands and fine wines, without Ghino yet letting
himself be known of the prelate; but, after the latter had abidden
some days on this wise, the outlaw, having let bring all his gear into
one saloon and all his horses, down to the sorriest rouncey, into a
courtyard that was under the windows thereof, betook himself to him
and asked him how he did and if he deemed himself strong enough to
take horse. The abbot answered that he was strong enough and quite
recovered of his stomach-complaint and that he should fare perfectly
well, once he should be out of Ghino's hands. Ghino then brought him
into the saloon, wherein was his gear and all his train, and carrying
him to a window, whence he might see all his horses, said, 'My lord
abbot, you must know that it was the being a gentleman and expelled
from his house and poor and having many and puissant enemies, and not
evilness of mind, that brought Ghino di Tacco (who is none other than
myself) to be, for the defence of his life and his nobility, a
highway-robber and an enemy of the court of Rome. Nevertheless, for