The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
Fiammetta having made an end of her story and the manful magnanimity of
King Charles having been much commended, albeit there was one lady
there who, being a Ghibelline, was loath to praise him, Pampinea, by
the king's commandment, began thus, "There is no one of understanding,
worshipful ladies, but would say that which you say of good King
Charles, except she bear him ill-will for otherwhat; but, for that
there occurreth to my memory a thing, belike no less commendable than
this, done of one his adversary to one of our Florentine damsels, it
pleaseth me to relate it to you.
At the time of the expulsion of the French from Sicily, one of our
Florentines was an apothecary at Palermo, a very rich man called
Bernardo Puccini, who had by his wife an only daughter, a very fair
damsel and already apt for marriage. Now King Pedro of Arragon, become
lord of the island, held high festival with his barons at Palermo,
wherein he tilting after the Catalan fashion, it chanced that
Bernardo's daughter, whose name was Lisa, saw him running [at the
ring] from a window where she was with other ladies, and he so
marvellously pleased her that, looking upon him once and again, she
fell passionately in love with him; and the festival ended and she
abiding in her father's house, she could think of nothing but of this
her illustrious and exalted love. And what most irked her in this was
the consciousness of her own mean condition, which scarce suffered her
to cherish any hope of a happy issue; natheless, she could not
therefor bring herself to leave loving the king, albeit, for fear of
greater annoy, she dared not discover her passion. The king had not
perceived this thing and recked not of her, wherefor she suffered
intolerable chagrin, past all that can be imagined. Thus it befell
that, love still waxing in her and melancholy redoubling upon
melancholy, the fair maid, unable to endure more, fell sick and wasted
visibly away from day to day, like snow in the sun. Her father and
mother, sore concerned for this that befell her, studied with
assiduous tenderness to hearten her and succoured her in as much as
might be with physicians and medicines, but it availed nothing, for
that, despairing of her love, she had elected to live no longer.
It chanced one day that, her father offering to do her every pleasure,
she bethought herself, and she might aptly, to seek, before she died,
to make the king acquainted with her love and her intent, and
accordingly she prayed him bring her Minuccio d'Arezzo. Now this
Minuccio was in those days held a very quaint and subtle singer and
player and was gladly seen of the king; and Bernardo concluded that
Lisa had a mind to hear him sing and play awhile. Accordingly, he sent
to tell him, and Minuccio, who was a man of a debonair humour,
incontinent came to her and having somedele comforted her with kindly
speech, softly played her a fit or two on a viol he had with him and
after sang her sundry songs, the which were fire and flame unto the
damsel's passion, whereas he thought to solace her. Presently she told
him that she would fain speak some words with him alone, wherefore,
all else having withdrawn, she said to him, 'Minuccio, I have chosen
thee to keep me very faithfully a secret of mine, hoping in the first
place that thou wilt never discover it to any one, save to him of whom
I shall tell thee, and after that thou wilt help me in that which
lieth in thy power; and of this I pray thee Thou must know, then,
Minuccio mine, that the day our lord King Pedro held the great
festival in honour of his exaltation to the throne, it befell me, as
he tilted, to espy him at so dour a point[459] that for the love of
him there was kindled in my heart a fire that hath brought me to this
pass wherein thou seest me, and knowing how ill my love beseemeth to a
king, yet availing not, let alone to drive it away, but even to abate
it, and it being beyond measure grievous to me to bear, I have as a
lesser evil elected to die, as I shall do. True it is that I should
begone hence cruelly disconsolate, an he first knew it not; wherefore,
unknowing by whom I could more aptly acquaint him with this my
resolution than by thyself, I desire to commit it to thee and pray
thee that thou refuse not to do it, and whenas thou shalt have done
it, that thou give me to know thereof, so that, dying comforted, I may
be assoiled of these my pains.' And this said, she stinted, weeping.
[Footnote 459: _In si forte punto_, or, in modern parlance, at so
critical or ill-starred a moment.]
Minuccio marvelled at the greatness of the damsel's soul and at her
cruel resolve and was sore concerned for her; then, it suddenly
occurring to his mind how he might honourably oblige her, he said to
her, 'Lisa, I pledge thee my faith, whereof thou mayst live assured
that thou wilt never find thyself deceived, and after, commending thee
of so high an emprise as it is to have set thy mind upon so great a
king, I proffer thee mine aid, by means whereof I hope, an thou wilt
but take comfort, so to do that, ere three days be past, I doubt not
to bring thee news that will be exceeding grateful to thee; and to
lose no time, I mean to go about it forthright.' Lisa, having anew
besought him amain thereof and promised him to take comfort, bade him
God speed; whereupon Minuccio, taking his leave, betook himself to one
Mico da Siena, a mighty good rhymer of those days, and constrained him
with prayers to make the following canzonet:
Bestir thee, Love, and get thee to my Sire
And tell him all the torments I aby;
Tell him I'm like to die,
For fearfulness concealing my desire.
Love, with clasped hands I cry thee mercy, so
Thou mayst betake thee where my lord doth dwell.
Say that I love and long for him, for lo,
My heart he hath inflamed so sadly well;
Yea, for the fire wherewith I'm all aglow,
I fear to die nor yet the hour can tell
When I shall part from pain so fierce and fell
As that which, longing, for his sake I dree
In shame and fear; ah me,
For God's sake, cause him know my torment dire.
Since first enamoured, Love, of him I grew,
Thou hast not given me the heart to dare
So much as one poor once my lord unto
My love and longing plainly to declare,
My lord who maketh me so sore to rue;
Death, dying thus, were hard to me to bear.
Belike, indeed, for he is debonair,
'Twould not displease him, did he know what pain
I feel and didst thou deign
Me daring to make known to him my fire.
Yet, since 'twas not thy pleasure to impart,
Love, such assurance to me that by glance
Or sign or writ I might make known my heart
Unto my lord, for my deliverance
I prithee, sweet my master, of thine art
Get thee to him and give him souvenance
Of that fair day I saw him shield and lance
Bear with the other knights and looking more,
Enamoured fell so sore
My heart thereof doth perish and expire.
These words Minuccio forthwith set to a soft and plaintive air, such
as the matter thereof required, and on the third day he betook himself
to court, where, King Pedro being yet at meat, he was bidden by him
sing somewhat to his viol. Thereupon he fell to singing the song
aforesaid on such dulcet wise that all who were in the royal hall
appeared men astonied, so still and attent stood they all to hearken,
and the king maybe more than the others. Minuccio having made an end
of his singing, the king enquired whence came this song that himseemed
he had never before heard. 'My lord,' replied the minstrel, 'it is not
yet three days since the words were made and the air.' The king asked
for whom it had been made; and Minuccio answered, 'I dare not discover
it save to you alone.' The king, desirous to hear it, as soon as the
tables were removed, sent for Minuccio into his chamber and the latter
orderly recounted to him all that he had heard from Lisa; wherewith
Don Pedro was exceeding well pleased and much commended the damsel,
avouching himself resolved to have compassion of so worthful a young
lady and bidding him therefore go comfort her on his part and tell her
that he would without fail come to visit her that day towards vespers.
Minuccio, overjoyed to be the bearer of such pleasing news, betook
himself incontinent, viol and all, to the damsel and bespeaking her in
private, recounted to her all that had passed and after sang her the
song to his viol; whereat she was so rejoiced and so content that she
straightway showed manifest signs of great amendment and longingly
awaited the hour of vespers, whenas her lord should come, without any
of the household knowing or guessing how the case stood.
Meanwhile, the king, who was a debonair and generous prince, having
sundry times taken thought to the things heard from Minuccio and very
well knowing the damsel and her beauty, waxed yet more pitiful over
her and mounting to horse towards vespers, under colour of going
abroad for his diversion, betook himself to the apothecary's house,
where, having required a very goodly garden which he had to be opened
to him, he alighted therein and presently asked Bernardo what was come
of his daughter and if he had yet married her. 'My lord,' replied the
apothecary, 'she is not married; nay, she hath been and is yet very
sick; albeit it is true that since none she hath mended marvellously.'
The king readily apprehended what this amendment meant and said, 'In
good sooth, 'twere pity so fair a creature should be yet taken from
the world. We would fain go visit her.' Accordingly, a little after,
he betook himself with Bernardo and two companions only to her chamber
and going up to the bed where the damsel, somedele upraised,[460]
awaited him with impatience, took her by the hand and said to her,
'What meaneth this, my mistress? You are young and should comfort
other women; yet you suffer yourself to be sick. We would beseech you
be pleased, for the love of us, to hearten yourself on such wise that
you may speedily be whole again.' The damsel, feeling herself touched
of his hands whom she loved over all else, albeit she was somewhat
shamefast, felt yet such gladness in her heart as she were in Paradise
and answered him, as best she might, saying, 'My lord, my having
willed to subject my little strength unto very grievous burdens hath
been the cause to me of this mine infirmity, whereof, thanks to your
goodness, you shall soon see me quit.' The king alone understood the
damsel's covert speech and held her momently of more account; nay,
sundry whiles he inwardly cursed fortune, who had made her daughter
unto such a man; then, after he had tarried with her awhile and
comforted her yet more, he took his leave.
[Footnote 460: _Sollevata_, syn. solaced, relieved or (3) agitated,
troubled.]
This humanity of the king was greatly commended and attributed for
great honour to the apothecary and his daughter, which latter abode as
well pleased as ever was woman of her lover, and sustained of better
hope, in a few days recovered and became fairer than ever. When she
was whole again, the king, having taken counsel with the queen of what
return he should make her for so much love, mounting one day to horse
with many of his barons, repaired to the apothecary's house and
entering the garden, let call Master Bernardo and his daughter; then,
the queen presently coming thither with many ladies and having
received Lisa among them, they fell to making wonder-merry. After a
while, the king and queen called Lisa to them and the former said to
her, 'Noble damsel, the much love you have borne us hath gotten you a
great honour from us, wherewith we would have you for the love of us