The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
her house'; and Andreuccio forthwith rejoined, without saying aught to
the people of the inn, 'Go thou on before; I will come after thee.'
Thereupon the girl carried him to the house of her mistress, who dwelt
in a street called Malpertugio,[96] the very name whereof denoteth how
reputable a quarter it is. But he, unknowing neither suspecting aught
thereof and thinking to go to most honourable place and to a lady of
quality, entered the house without hesitation,--preceded by the
serving-maid, who called her mistress and said, 'Here is
Andreuccio,'--and mounting the stair, saw the damsel come to the
stairhead to receive him. Now she was yet in the prime of youth, tall
of person, with a very fair face and very handsomely dressed and
adorned. As he drew near her, she came down three steps to meet him
with open arms and clasping him round the neck, abode awhile without
speaking, as if hindered by excess of tenderness; then kissed him on
the forehead, weeping, and said, in a somewhat broken voice, 'O my
Andreuccio, thou art indeed welcome.'
[Footnote 96: _i.e._ ill hole.]
He was amazed at such tender caresses and answered, all confounded,
'Madam, you are well met.' Thereupon, taking him by the hand, she
carried him up into her saloon and thence, without saying another word
to him, she brought him into her chamber, which was all redolent of
roses and orange flowers and other perfumes. Here he saw a very fine
bed, hung round with curtains, and store of dresses upon the pegs and
other very goodly and rich gear, after the usance of those parts; by
reason whereof, like a freshman as he was, he firmly believed her to
be no less than a great lady. She made him sit with her on a chest
that stood at the foot of the bed and bespoke him thus, 'Andreuccio, I
am very certain thou marvellest at these caresses that I bestow on
thee and at my tears, as he may well do who knoweth me not and hath
maybe never heard speak of me; but I have that to tell thee which is
like to amaze thee yet more, namely, that I am thy sister; and I tell
thee that, since God hath vouchsafed me to look upon one of my
brothers, (though fain would I see you all,) before my death,
henceforth I shall not die disconsolate; and as perchance thou has
never heard of this, I will tell it thee.
Pietro, my father and thine, as I doubt not thou knowest, abode long
in Palermo and there for his good humour and pleasant composition was
and yet is greatly beloved of those who knew him; but, among all his
lovers, my mother, who was a lady of gentle birth and then a widow,
was she who most affected him, insomuch that, laying aside the fear of
her father and brethren, as well as the care of her own honour, she
became so private with him that I was born thereof and grew up as thou
seest me. Presently, having occasion to depart Palermo and return to
Perugia, he left me a little maid with my mother nor ever after, for
all that I could hear, remembered him of me or her; whereof, were he
not my father, I should blame him sore, having regard to the
ingratitude shown by him to my mother (to say nothing of the love it
behoved him bear me, as his daughter, born of no serving-wench nor
woman of mean extraction) who had, moved by very faithful love,
without anywise knowing who he might be, committed into his hands her
possessions and herself no less. But what [skilleth it]? Things ill
done and long time passed are easier blamed than mended; algates, so
it was.
He left me a little child in Palermo, where being grown well nigh as I
am now, my mother, who was a rich lady, gave me to wife to a worthy
gentleman of Girgenti, who, for her love and mine, came to abide at
Palermo and there, being a great Guelph,[97] he entered into treaty
with our King Charles,[98] which, being discovered by King
Frederick,[99] ere effect could be given to it, was the occasion of
our being enforced to flee from Sicily, whenas I looked to be the
greatest lady was ever in the island; wherefore, taking such few
things as we might (I say few, in respect of the many we had) and
leaving our lands and palaces, we took refuge in this city, where we
found King Charles so mindful of our services that he hath in part
made good to us the losses we had sustained for him, bestowing on us
both lands and houses, and still maketh my husband, thy kinsman that
is, a goodly provision, as thou shalt hereafter see. On this wise come
I in this city, where, Godamercy and no thanks to thee, sweet my
brother, I now behold thee.' So saying, she embraced him over again
and kissed him on the forehead, still weeping for tenderness.
[Footnote 97: _i.e._ a member of the Guelph party, as against the
Ghibellines or partisans of the Pope.]
[Footnote 98: Charles d'Anjou, afterwards King of Sicily.]
[Footnote 99: _i.e._ Frederick II. of Germany.]
Andreuccio, hearing this fable so orderly, so artfully delivered by
the damsel, without ever stammering or faltering for a word, and
remembering it to be true that his father had been in Palermo,
knowing, moreover, by himself the fashions of young men and how
lightly they fall in love in their youth and seeing the affectionate
tears and embraces and the chaste kisses that she lavished on him,
held all she told him for more than true; wherefore, as soon as she
was silent, he answered her, saying, 'Madam, it should seem to you no
very great matter if I marvel, for that in truth, whether it be that
my father, for whatsoever reason, never spoke of your mother nor of
yourself, or that if he did, it came not to my notice, I had no more
knowledge of you than if you had never been, and so much the dearer is
it to me to find you my sister here, as I am alone in this city and
the less expected this. Indeed, I know no man of so high a condition
that you should not be dear to him, to say nothing of myself, who am
but a petty trader. But I pray you make me clear of one thing; how
knew you that I was here?' Whereto she made answer, 'A poor woman, who
much frequenteth me, gave me this morning to know of thy coming, for
that, as she telleth me, she abode long with our father both at
Palermo and at Perugia; and but that meseemed it was a more reputable
thing that thou shouldst visit me in my own house than I thee in that
of another, I had come to thee this great while agone.' After this,
she proceeded to enquire more particularly of all his kinsfolk by
name, and he answered her of all, giving the more credence, by reason
of this, to that which it the less behoved him to believe.
The talk being long and the heat great, she called for Greek wine and
confections and let give Andreuccio to drink, after which he would
have taken leave, for that it was supper-time; but she would on no
wise suffer it and making a show of being sore vexed, embraced him and
said, 'Ah, woe is me! I see but too clearly how little dear I am to
thee! Who would believe that thou couldst be with a sister of thine,
whom thou hast never yet seen and in whose house thou shouldst have
lighted down, whenas thou earnest hither, and offer to leave her, to
go sup at the inn? Indeed, thou shalt sup with me, and albeit my
husband is abroad, which grieveth me mightily, I shall know well how
to do thee some little honour, such as a woman may.' To which
Andreuccio, unknowing what else he should say, answered, 'I hold you
as dear as a sister should be held; but, an I go not, I shall be
expected to supper all the evening and shall do an unmannerliness.'
'Praised be God!' cried she. 'One would think I had no one in the
house to send to tell them not to expect thee; albeit thou wouldst do
much greater courtesy and indeed but thy duty an thou sentest to bid
thy companions come hither to supper; and after, am thou must e'en
begone, you might all go away together.'
Andreuccio replied that he had no desire for his companions that
evening; but that, since it was agreeable to her, she might do her
pleasure of him. Accordingly, she made a show of sending to the inn to
say that he was not to be expected to supper, and after much other
discourse, they sat down to supper and were sumptuously served with
various meats, whilst she adroitly contrived to prolong the repast
till it was dark night. Then, when they rose from table and Andreuccio
would have taken his leave, she declared that she would on no wise
suffer this, for that Naples was no place to go about in by night
especially for a stranger, and that, whenas she sent to the inn to say
that he was not to be expected to supper, she had at the same time
given notice that he would lie abroad. Andreuccio, believing this and
taking pleasure in being with her, beguiled as he was by false
credence, abode where he was, and after supper they held much and long
discourse, not without reason,[100] till a part of the night was past,
when she withdrew with her women into another room, leaving Andreuccio
in her own chamber, with a little lad to wait upon him, if he should
lack aught.
[Footnote 100: The reason was that she wished to keep him in play till
late into the night, when all the folk should be asleep and she might
the lightlier deal with him.]
The heat being great, Andreuccio, as soon as he found himself alone,
stripped to his doublet and putting off his hosen, laid them at the
bedhead; after which, natural use soliciting him to rid himself of the
overmuch burden of his stomach, he asked the boy where this might be
done, who showed him a door in one corner of the room and said, 'Go in
there.' Accordingly he opened the door and passing through in all
assurance, chanced to set foot on a plank, which, being broken loose
from the joist at the opposite end, [flew up] and down they went,
plank and man together. God so favoured him that he did himself no
hurt in the fall, albeit he fell from some height; but he was all
bemired with the ordure whereof the place was full; and in order that
you may the better apprehend both that which hath been said and that
which ensueth, I will show you how the place lay. There were in a
narrow alley, such as we often see between two houses, a pair of
rafters laid from one house to another, and thereon sundry boards
nailed and the place of session set up; of which boards that which
gave way with Andreuccio was one.
Finding himself, then, at the bottom of the alley and sore chagrined
at the mishap, he fell a-bawling for the boy; but the latter, as soon
as he heard him fall, had run to tell his mistress, who hastened to
his chamber and searching hurriedly if his clothes were there, found
them and with them the money, which, in his mistrust, he still
foolishly carried about him. Having now gotten that for which,
feigning herself of Palermo and sister to a Perugian, she had set her
snare, she took no more reck of him, but hastened to shut the door
whereby he had gone out when he fell.
Andreuccio, getting no answer from the boy, proceeded to call
loudlier, but to no purpose; whereupon, his suspicions being now
aroused, he began too late to smoke the cheat. Accordingly, he
scrambled over a low wall that shut off the alley from the street, and
letting himself down into the road, went up to the door of the house,
which he knew very well, and there called long and loud and shook and
beat upon it amain, but all in vain. Wherefore, bewailing himself, as
one who was now fully aware of his mischance, 'Ah, woe is me!' cried
he. 'In how little time have I lost five hundred florins and a
sister!' Then, after many other words, he fell again to battering the
door and crying out and this he did so long and so lustily that many
of the neighbours, being awakened and unable to brook the annoy, arose
and one of the courtezan's waiting-women, coming to the window,
apparently all sleepy-eyed, said peevishly, 'Who knocketh below
there?'