The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
Mithridanes, having received this information and Nathan having taken
leave of him, privily let his companions, who had, like himself, taken
up their sojourn in the palace, know where they should look for him on
the morrow; and the new day came, Nathan, whose intent was nowise at
variance with the counsel he had given Mithridanes nor was anywise
changed, betook himself alone to the coppice, there to die. Meanwhile,
Mithridanes arose and taking his bow and his sword, for other arms he
had not, mounted to horse and made for the coppice, where he saw
Nathan from afar go walking all alone. Being resolved, ere he attacked
him, to seek to see him and hear him speak, he ran towards him and
seizing him by the fillet he had about his head, said, 'Old man, thou
art dead.' Whereto Nathan answered no otherwhat than, 'Then have I
merited it.' Mithridanes, hearing his voice and looking him in the
face, knew him forthright for him who had so lovingly received him
and familiarly companied with him and faithfully counselled him;
whereupon his fury incontinent subsided and his rage was changed into
shame. Accordingly, casting away the sword, which he had already
pulled out to smite him, and lighting down from his horse, he ran,
weeping, to throw himself at Nathan's feet and said to him, 'Now,
dearest father, do I manifestly recognize your liberality, considering
with what secrecy you are come hither to give me your life, whereof,
without any reason, I showed myself desirous, and that to yourself;
but God, more careful of mine honour than I myself, hath, in the
extremest hour of need, opened the eyes of my understanding, which
vile envy had closed. Wherefore, the readier you have been to comply
with me, so much the more do I confess myself beholden to do penance
for my default. Take, then, of me the vengeance which you deem
conformable to my sin.'
Nathan raised Mithridanes to his feet and tenderly embraced and kissed
him, saying, 'My son, it needeth not that thou shouldst ask nor that I
should grant forgiveness of thine emprise, whatever thou choosest to
style it, whether wicked or otherwise; for that thou pursuedst it, not
of hatred, but to win to be held better. Live, then, secure from me
and be assured that there is no man alive who loveth thee as I do,
having regard to the loftiness of thy soul, which hath given itself,
not to the amassing of monies, as do the covetous, but to the
expenditure of those that have been amassed. Neither be thou ashamed
of having sought to slay me, so though mightest become famous, nor
think that I marvel thereat. The greatest emperors and the most
illustrious kings have, with well nigh none other art than that of
slaying, not one man, as thou wouldst have done, but an infinite
multitude of men, and burning countries and razing cities, enlarged
their realms and consequently their fame; wherefore, an thou wouldst,
to make thyself more famous, have slain me only, thou diddest no new
nor extraordinary thing, but one much used.'
Mithridanes, without holding himself excused of his perverse design,
commended the honourable excuse found by Nathan and came, in course of
converse with him, to say that he marvelled beyond measure how he
could have brought himself to meet his death and have gone so far as
even to give him means and counsel to that end; whereto quoth Nathan,
'Mithridanes, I would not have thee marvel at my resolution nor at the
counsel I gave thee, for that, since I have been mine own master and
have addressed myself to do that same thing which thou hast undertaken
to do, there came never any to my house but I contented him, so far as
in me lay, of that which was required of me by him. Thou camest
hither, desirous of my life; wherefore, learning that thou soughtest
it, I straightway determined to give it thee, so thou mightest not be
the only one to depart hence without his wish; and in order that thou
mightest have thy desire, I gave thee such counsel as I thought apt to
enable thee to have my life and not lose thine own; and therefore I
tell thee once more and pray thee, an it please thee, take it and
satisfy thyself thereof. I know not how I may better bestow it. These
fourscore years have I occupied it and used it about my pleasures and
my diversions, and I know that in the course of nature, according as
it fareth with other men and with things in general, it can now be
left me but a little while longer; wherefore I hold it far better to
bestow it by way of gift, like as I have still given and expended my
[other] treasures, than to seek to keep it until such times as it
shall be taken from me by nature against my will. To give an hundred
years is no great boon; how much less, then, is it to give the six or
eight I have yet to abide here? Take it, then, an it like thee.
Prithee, then, take it, an thou have a mind thereto; for that never
yet, what while I have lived here, have I found any who hath desired
it, nor know I when I may find any such, an thou, who demandest it,
take it not. And even should I chance to find any one, I know that,
the longer I keep it, the less worth will it be; therefore, ere it wax
sorrier, take it, I beseech thee.'
Mithridanes was sore abashed and replied, 'God forbid I should, let
alone take and sever from you a thing of such price as your life, but
even desire to do so, as but late I did,--your life, whose years far
from seeking to lessen, I would willingly add thereto of mine own!'
Whereto Nathan straightway rejoined, 'And art thou indeed willing, it
being in thy power to do it, to add of thy years unto mine and in so
doing, to cause me do for thee that which I never yet did for any man,
to wit, take of thy good, I who never yet took aught of others?' 'Ay
am I,' answered Mithridanes in haste. 'Then,' said Nathan, 'thou must
do as I shall bid thee. Thou shalt take up thine abode, young as thou
art, here in my house and bear the name of Nathan, whilst I will
betake myself to thy house and let still call myself Mithridanes.'
Quoth Mithridanes, 'An I knew how to do as well as you have done and
do, I would, without hesitation, take that which you proffer me; but,
since meseemeth very certain that my actions would be a diminishment
of Nathan's fame and as I purpose not to mar in another that which I
know not how to order in myself, I will not take it.' These and many
other courteous discourses having passed between them, they returned,
at Nathan's instance, to the latter's palace, where he entertained
Mithridanes with the utmost honour sundry days, heartening him in his
great and noble purpose with all manner of wit and wisdom. Then,
Mithridanes desiring to return to his own house with his company, he
dismissed him, having throughly given him to know that he might never
avail to outdo him in liberality."
THE FOURTH STORY
[Day the Tenth]
MESSER GENTILE DE' CARISENDI, COMING FROM MODONA, TAKETH
FORTH OF THE SEPULCHRE A LADY WHOM HE LOVETH AND WHO HATH
BEEN BURIED FOR DEAD. THE LADY, RESTORED TO LIFE, BEARETH A
MALE CHILD AND MESSER GENTILE RESTORETH HER AND HER SON TO
NICCOLUCCIO CACCIANIMICO, HER HUSBAND
It seemed to all a marvellous thing that a man should be lavish of his
own blood and they declared Nathan's liberality to have verily
transcended that of the King of Spain and the Abbot of Cluny. But,
after enough to one and the other effect had been said thereof, the
king, looking towards Lauretta, signed to her that he would have her
tell, whereupon she straightway began, "Young ladies, magnificent and
goodly are the things that have been recounted, nor meseemeth is there
aught left unto us who have yet to tell, wherethrough we may range a
story-telling, so throughly have they all[447] been occupied with the
loftiness of the magnificences related, except we have recourse to the
affairs of love, which latter afford a great abundance of matter for
discourse on every subject; wherefore, at once on this account and for
that the theme is one to which our age must needs especially incline
us, it pleaseth me to relate to you an act of magnanimity done by a
lover, which, all things considered, will peradventure appear to you
nowise inferior to any of those already set forth, if it be true that
treasures are lavished, enmities forgotten and life itself, nay, what
is far more, honour and renown, exposed to a thousand perils, so we
may avail to possess the thing beloved.
[Footnote 447: _i.e._ all sections of the given theme.]
There was, then, in Bologna, a very noble city of Lombardy, a
gentleman very notable for virtue and nobility of blood, called Messer
Gentile Carisendi, who, being young, became enamoured of a noble lady
called Madam Catalina, the wife of one Niccoluccio Caccianimico; and
for that he was ill repaid of his love by the lady, being named
provost of Modona, he betook himself thither, as in despair of her.
Meanwhile, Niccoluccio being absent from Bologna and the lady having,
for that she was with child, gone to abide at a country house she had
maybe three miles distant from the city, she was suddenly seized with
a grievous fit of sickness,[448] which overcame her with such violence
that it extinguished in her all sign of life, so that she was even
adjudged dead of divers physicians; and for that her nearest kinswomen
declared themselves to have had it from herself that she had not been
so long pregnant that the child could be fully formed, without giving
themselves farther concern, they buried her, such as she was, after
much lamentation, in one of the vaults of a neighbouring church.
[Footnote 448: Lit. accident (_accidente_).]
The thing was forthright signified by a friend of his to Messer
Gentile, who, poor as he had still been of her favour, grieved sore
therefor and ultimately said in himself, 'Harkye, Madam Catalina, thou
art dead, thou of whom, what while thou livedst, I could never avail
to have so much as a look; wherefore, now thou canst not defend
thyself, needs must I take of thee a kiss or two, all dead as thou
art.' This said, he took order so his going should be secret and it
being presently night, he mounted to horse with one of his servants
and rode, without halting, till he came whereas the lady was buried
and opened the sepulchre with all despatch. Then, entering therein, he
laid himself beside her and putting his face to hers, kissed her again
and again with many tears. But presently,--as we see men's appetites
never abide content within any limit, but still desire farther, and
especially those of lovers,--having bethought himself to tarry there
no longer, he said, 'Marry, now that I am here, why should I not touch
her somedele on the breast? I may never touch her more, nor have I
ever yet done so.' Accordingly, overcome with this desire, he put his
hand into her bosom and holding it there awhile, himseemed he felt her
heart beat somewhat. Thereupon, putting aside all fear, he sought more
diligently and found that she was certainly not dead, scant and feeble
as he deemed the life [that lingered in her;] wherefore, with the help
of his servant, he brought her forth of the tomb, as softliest he
might, and setting her before him on his horse, carried her privily to
his house in Bologna.
There was his mother, a worthy and discreet gentlewoman, and she,
after she had heard everything at large from her son, moved to
compassion, quietly addressed herself by means of hot baths and great
fires to recall the strayed life to the lady, who, coming presently to
herself, heaved a great sigh and said, 'Ah me, where am I?' To which
the good lady replied, 'Be of good comfort; thou art in safety.' Madam
Catalina, collecting herself, looked about her and knew not aright
where she was; but, seeing Messer Gentile before her, she was filled