The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
beginning from the beginning, he discovered to him the cause of his
melancholy and the conflict of his thoughts and ultimately gave him to
know which had gotten the victory and confessed himself perishing for
love of Sophronia, declaring that, knowing how much this misbeseemed
him, he had for penance thereof resolved himself to die, whereof he
trusted speedily to make an end.
Gisippus, hearing this and seeing his tears, abode awhile irresolute,
as one who, though more moderately, was himself taken with the charms
of the fair damsel, but speedily bethought himself that his friend's
life should be dearer to him than Sophronia. Accordingly, solicited to
tears by those of his friend, he answered him, weeping, 'Titus, wert
thou not in need as thou art of comfort, I should complain of thee to
thyself, as of one who hath transgressed against our friendship in
having so long kept thy most grievous passion hidden from me; since,
albeit it appeared not to thee honourable, nevertheless dishonourable
things should not, more than honourable, be hidden from a friend; for
that a friend, like as he rejoiceth with his friend in honourable
things, even so he studieth to do away the dishonourable from his
friend's mind; but for the present I will refrain therefrom and come
to that which I perceive to be of greater urgency. That thou lovest
Sophronia, who is betrothed to me, I marvel not: nay, I should
marvel, indeed, if it were not so, knowing her beauty and the nobility
of thy mind, so much the more susceptible of passion as the thing that
pleaseth hath the more excellence. And the more reason thou hast to
love Sophronia, so much the more unjustly dost thou complain of
fortune (albeit thou expressest this not in so many words) in that it
hath awarded her to me, it seeming to thee that thy love for her had
been honourable, were she other than mine; but tell me, if thou be as
well advised as thou usest to be, to whom could fortune have awarded
her, whereof thou shouldst have more cause to render it thanks, than
of having awarded her to me? Whoso else had had her, how honourable
soever thy love had been, had liefer loved her for himself[462] than
for thee,[463] a thing which thou shouldst not fear[464] from me, an
thou hold me a friend such as I am to thee, for that I mind me not,
since we have been friends, to have ever had aught that was not as
much thine as mine. Now, were the matter so far advanced that it might
not be otherwise, I would do with her as I have done with my other
possessions;[465] but it is yet at such a point that I can make her
thine alone; and I will do so, for that I know not why my friendship
should be dear to thee, if, in respect of a thing that may honourably
be done, I knew not of a desire of mine to make thine. True it is that
Sophronia is my promised bride and that I loved her much and looked
with great joyance for my nuptials with her; but, since thou, being
far more understanding than I, with more ardour desirest so dear a
thing as she is, live assured that she shall enter my chamber, not as
my wife, but as thine. Wherefore leave thought-taking, put away
melancholy, call back thy lost health and comfort and allegresse and
from this time forth expect with blitheness the reward of thy love,
far worthier than was mine.'
[Footnote 462: Or "his" (_a sè_).]
[Footnote 463: Or "thine" (_a te_).]
[Footnote 464: Lit. "hope" (_sperare_). See note, p. 5.]
[Footnote 465: _i.e._ I would have her in common with thee.]
When Titus heard Gisippus speak thus, the more the flattering hopes
given him of the latter afforded him pleasure, so much the more did
just reason inform him with shame, showing him that, the greater was
Gisippus his liberality, the more unworthy it appeared of himself to
use it; wherefore, without giving over weeping, he with difficulty
replied to him thus, 'Gisippus, thy generous and true friendship very
plainly showeth me that which it pertaineth unto mine to do. God
forfend that her, whom He hath bestowed upon thee as upon the
worthier, I should receive from thee for mine! Had He judged it
fitting that she should be mine, nor thou nor others can believe that
He would ever have bestowed her on thee. Use, therefore, joyfully,
thine election and discreet counsel and His gifts, and leave me to
languish in the tears, which, as to one undeserving of such a
treasure, He hath prepared unto me and which I will either overcome,
and that will be dear to thee, or they will overcome me and I shall be
out of pain.' 'Titus,' rejoined Gisippus, 'an our friendship might
accord me such license that I should enforce thee to ensue a desire of
mine and if it may avail to induce thee to do so, it is in this case
that I mean to use it to the utmost, and if thou yield not to my
prayers with a good grace, I will, with such violence as it behoveth
us use for the weal of our friends, procure that Sophronia shall be
thine. I know how great is the might of love and that, not once, but
many a time, it hath brought lovers to a miserable death; nay, unto
this I see thee so near that thou canst neither turn back nor avail to
master thy tears, but, proceeding thus, wouldst pine and die;
whereupon I, without any doubt, should speedily follow after. If,
then, I loved thee not for otherwhat, thy life is dear to me, so I
myself may live. Sophronia, therefore, shall be thine, for that thou
couldst not lightly find another woman who would so please thee, and
as I shall easily turn my love unto another, I shall thus have
contented both thyself and me. I should not, peradventure, be so free
to do this, were wives as scarce and as uneath to find as friends;
however, as I can very easily find me another wife, but not another
friend, I had liefer (I will not say _lose_ her, for that I shall not
lose her, giving her to thee, but shall transfer her to another and a
better self, but) transfer her than lose thee. Wherefore, if my
prayers avail aught with thee, I beseech thee put away from thee this
affliction and comforting at once thyself and me, address thee with
good hope to take that joyance which thy fervent love desireth of the
thing beloved.'
Although Titus was ashamed to consent to this, namely, that Sophronia
should become his wife, and on this account held out yet awhile,
nevertheless, love on the one hand drawing him and Gisippus his
exhortations on the other urging him, he said, 'Look you, Gisippus, I
know not which I can say I do most, my pleasure or thine, in doing
that whereof thou prayest me and which thou tellest me is so pleasing
to thee, and since thy generosity is such that it overcometh my just
shame, I will e'en do it; but of this thou mayst be assured that I do
it as one who knoweth himself to receive of thee, not only the beloved
lady, but with her his life. The Gods grant, an it be possible, that I
may yet be able to show thee, for thine honour and thy weal, how
grateful to me is that which thou, more pitiful for me than I for
myself, dost for me!' These things said, 'Titus,' quoth Gisippus, 'in
this matter, an we would have it take effect, meseemeth this course is
to be held. As thou knowest, Sophronia, after long treaty between my
kinsfolk and hers, is become my affianced bride; wherefore, should I
now go about to say that I will not have her to wife, a sore scandal
would ensue thereof and I should anger both her kinsfolk and mine own.
Of this, indeed, I should reck nothing, an I saw that she was thereby
to become thine; but I misdoubt me that, an I renounce her at this
point, her kinsfolk will straightway give her to another, who belike
will not be thyself, and so wilt thou have lost that which I shall not
have gained. Wherefore meseemeth well, an thou be content, that I
follow on with that which I have begun and bring her home as mine and
hold the nuptials, and thou mayst after, as we shall know how to
contrive, privily lie with her as with thy wife. Then, in due place
and season, we will make manifest the fact, which, if it please them
not, will still be done and they must perforce be content, being
unable to go back upon it.'
The device pleased Titus; wherefore Gisippus received the lady into
his house, as his, (Titus being by this recovered and in good case,)
and after holding high festival, the night being come, the ladies left
the new-married wife in her husband's bed and went their ways. Now
Titus his chamber adjoined that of Gisippus and one might go from the
one room into the other; wherefore Gisippus, being in his chamber and
having put out all the lights, betook himself stealthily to his friend
and bade him go couch with his mistress. Titus, seeing this, was
overcome with shame and would fain have repented and refused to go;
but Gisippus, who with his whole heart, no less than in words, was
minded to do his friend's pleasure, sent him thither, after long
contention. Whenas he came into the bed, he took the damsel in his
arms and asked her softly, as if in sport, if she chose to be his
wife. She, thinking him to be Gisippus, answered, 'Yes'; whereupon he
set a goodly and rich ring on her finger, saying, 'And I choose to be
thy husband.' Then, the marriage consummated, he took long and amorous
pleasance of her, without her or others anywise perceiving that other
than Gisippus lay with her.
The marriage of Sophronia and Titus being at this pass, Publius his
father departed this life, wherefore it was written him that he should
without delay return to Rome, to look to his affairs, and he
accordingly took counsel with Gisippus to betake himself thither and
carry Sophronia with him; which might not nor should aptly be done
without discovering to her how the case stood. Accordingly, one day,
calling her into the chamber, they thoroughly discovered to her the
fact and thereof Titus certified her by many particulars of that which
had passed between them twain. Sophronia, after eying the one and the
other somewhat despitefully, fell a-weeping bitterly, complaining of
Gisippus his deceit; then, rather than make any words of this in his
house, she repaired to that of her father and there acquainted him and
her mother with the cheat that had been put upon her and them by
Gisippus, avouching herself to be the wife of Titus and not of
Gisippus, as they believed. This was exceeding grievous to Sophronia's
father, who made long and sore complaint thereof to her kinsfolk and
those of Gisippus, and much and great was the talk and the clamour by
reason thereof. Gisippus was held in despite both by his own kindred
and those of Sophronia and every one declared him worthy not only of
blame, but of severe chastisement; whilst he, on the contrary,
avouched himself to have done an honourable thing and one for which
thanks should be rendered him by Sophronia's kinsfolk, having married
her to a better than himself.
Titus, on his part, heard and suffered everything with no little annoy
and knowing it to be the usance of the Greeks to press on with
clamours and menaces, till such times as they found who should answer
them, and then to become not only humble, but abject, he bethought
himself that their clamour was no longer to be brooked without reply
and having a Roman spirit and an Athenian wit, he adroitly contrived
to assemble Gisippus his kinsfolk and those of Sophronia in a temple,
wherein entering, accompanied by Gisippus alone, he thus bespoke the
expectant folk: 'It is the belief of many philosophers that the
actions of mortals are determined and foreordained of the immortal
Gods, wherefore some will have it that all that is or shall ever be
done is of necessity, albeit there be others who attribute this
necessity to that only which is already done. If these opinions be
considered with any diligence, it will very manifestly be seen that to