The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
This supposition is confirmed by the course taken by Alatiel's ship,
which would naturally pass Sardinia and the Balearic Islands on its
way from Alexandria to Portugal.]
The sailors, seeing the weather favourable, gave their sails to the
wind and departing the port of Alexandria, fared on prosperously many
days, and having now passed Sardinia, deemed themselves near the end
of their voyage, when there arose one day of a sudden divers contrary
winds, which, being each beyond measure boisterous, so harassed the
ship, wherein was the lady, and the sailors, that the latter more than
once gave themselves over for lost. However, like valiant men, using
every art and means in their power, they rode it out two days, though
buffeted by a terrible sea; but, at nightfall of the third day, the
tempest abating not, nay, waxing momently, they felt the ship open,
being then not far off Majorca, but knowing not where they were
neither availing to apprehend it either by nautical reckoning or by
sight, for that the sky was altogether obscured by clouds and dark
night; wherefore, seeing no other way of escape and having each
himself in mind and not others, they lowered a shallop into the water,
into which the officers cast themselves, choosing rather to trust
themselves thereto than to the leaking ship. The rest of the men in
the ship crowded after them into the boat, albeit those who had first
embarked therein opposed it, knife in hand,--and thinking thus to flee
from death, ran straight into it, for that the boat, availing not, for
the intemperance of the weather, to hold so many, foundered and they
perished one and all.
As for the ship, being driven by a furious wind and running very
swiftly, albeit it was now well nigh water-logged, (none being left on
board save the princess and her women, who all, overcome by the
tempestuous sea and by fear, lay about the decks as they were dead,)
it stranded upon a beach of the island of Majorca and such and so
great was the shock that it well nigh buried itself in the sand some
stone's cast from the shore, where it abode the night, beaten by the
waves, nor might the wind avail to stir it more. Broad day came and
the tempest somewhat abating, the princess, who was half dead, raised
her head and weak as she was, fell to calling now one, now another of
her household, but to no purpose, for that those she called were too
far distant. Finding herself unanswered of any and seeing no one, she
marvelled exceedingly and began to be sore afraid; then, rising up, as
best she might, she saw the ladies who were in her company and the
other women lying all about and trying now one and now another, found
few who gave any signs of life, the most of them being dead what with
sore travail of the stomach and what with affright; wherefore fear
redoubled upon her.
Nevertheless, necessity constraining her, for that she saw herself
alone there and had neither knowledge nor inkling where she was, she
so goaded those who were yet alive that she made them arise and
finding them unknowing whither the men were gone and seeing the ship
stranded and full of water, she fell to weeping piteously, together
with them. It was noon ere they saw any about the shore or elsewhere,
whom they might move to pity and succour them; but about that hour
there passed by a gentleman, by name Pericone da Visalgo, returning by
chance from a place of his, with sundry of his servants on horseback.
He saw the ship and forthright conceiving what it was, bade one of the
servants board it without delay and tell him what he found there. The
man, though with difficulty, made his way on board and found the young
lady, with what little company she had, crouched, all adread, under
the heel of the bowsprit. When they saw him, they besought him,
weeping, of mercy again and again; but, perceiving that he understood
them not nor they him, they made shift to make known to him their
misadventure by signs.
The servant having examined everything as best he might, reported to
Pericone that which was on board; whereupon the latter promptly caused
to bring the ladies ashore, together with the most precious things
that were in the ship and might be gotten, and carried them off to a
castle of his, where, the women being refreshed with food and rest, he
perceived, from the richness of her apparel, that the lady whom he had
found must needs be some great gentlewoman, and of this he was
speedily certified by the honour that he saw the others do her and her
alone; and although she was pale and sore disordered of her person,
for the fatigues of the voyage, her features seemed to him exceeding
fair; wherefore he forthright took counsel with himself, an she had no
husband, to seek to have her to wife, and if he might not have her in
marriage, to make shift to have her favours.
He was a man of commanding presence and exceeding robust and having
for some days let tend the lady excellently well and she being thereby
altogether restored, he saw her lovely past all conception and was
grieved beyond measure that he could not understand her nor she him
and so he might not learn who she was. Nevertheless, being
inordinately inflamed by her charms, he studied, with pleasing and
amorous gestures, to engage her to do his pleasure without contention;
but to no avail; she altogether rejected his advances and so much the
more waxed Pericone's ardour. The lady, seeing this and having now
abidden there some days, perceived, by the usances of the folk, that
she was among Christians and in a country where, even if she could, it
had little profited her to make herself known and foresaw that, in the
end, either perforce or for love, needs must she resign herself to do
Pericone's pleasure, but resolved nevertheless by dint of magnanimity
to override the wretchedness of her fortune; wherefore she commanded
her women, of whom but three were left her, that they should never
discover to any who she was, except they found themselves whereas they
might look for manifest furtherance in the regaining of their liberty,
and urgently exhorted them, moreover, to preserve their chastity,
avouching herself determined that none, save her husband, should ever
enjoy her. They commended her for this and promised to observe her
commandment to the best of their power.
Meanwhile Pericone, waxing daily more inflamed, insomuch as he saw the
thing desired so near and yet so straitly denied, and seeing that his
blandishments availed him nothing, resolved to employ craft and
artifice, reserving force unto the last. Wherefore, having observed
bytimes that wine was pleasing to the lady, as being unused to drink
thereof, for that her law forbade it, he bethought himself that he
might avail to take her with this, as with a minister of enus.
Accordingly, feigning to reck no more of that whereof she showed
herself so chary, he made one night by way of special festival a
goodly supper, whereto he bade the lady, and therein, the repast being
gladdened with many things, he took order with him who served her that
he should give her to drink of various wines mingled. The cupbearer
did his bidding punctually and she, being nowise on her guard against
this and allured by the pleasantness of the drink, took more thereof
than consisted with her modesty; whereupon, forgetting all her past
troubles, she waxed merry and seeing some women dance after the
fashion of Majorca, herself danced in the Alexandrian manner.
Pericone, seeing this, deemed himself on the high road to that which
he desired and continuing the supper with great plenty of meats and
wines, protracted it far into the night. Ultimately, the guests having
departed, he entered with the lady alone into her chamber, where she,
more heated with wine than restrained by modesty, without any reserve
of shamefastness, undid herself in his presence, as he had been one of
her women, and betook herself to bed. Pericone was not slow to follow
her, but, putting out all the lights, promptly hid himself beside her
and catching her in his arms, proceeded, without any gainsayal on her
part, amorously to solace himself with her; which when once she had
felt,--having never theretofore known with what manner horn men
butt,--as if repenting her of not having yielded to Pericone's
solicitations, thenceforth, without waiting to be bidden to such
agreeable nights, she oftentimes invited herself thereto, not by
words, which she knew not how to make understood, but by deeds.
But, in the midst of this great pleasance of Pericone and herself,
fortune, not content with having reduced her from a king's bride to be
the mistress of a country gentleman, had foreordained unto her a more
barbarous alliance. Pericone had a brother by name Marato,
five-and-twenty years of age and fair and fresh as a rose, who saw her
and she pleased him mightily. Himseemed, moreover, according to that
which he could apprehend from her gestures, that he was very well seen
of her and conceiving that nought hindered him of that which he craved
of her save the strait watch kept on her by Pericone, he fell into a
barbarous thought, whereon the nefarious effect followed without
delay.
There was then, by chance, in the harbour of the city a vessel laden
with merchandise and bound for Chiarenza[116] in Roumelia; whereof two
young Genoese were masters, who had already hoisted sail to depart as
soon as the wind should be fair. Marato, having agreed with them, took
order how he should on the ensuing night be received aboard their ship
with the lady; and this done, as soon as it was dark, having inwardly
determined what he should do, he secretly betook himself, with certain
of his trustiest friends, whom he had enlisted for the purpose, to the
house of Pericone, who nowise mistrusted him. There he hid himself,
according to the ordinance appointed between them, and after a part of
the night had passed, he admitted his companions and repaired with
them to the chamber where Pericone lay with the lady. Having opened
the door, they slew Pericone, as he slept, and took the lady, who was
now awake and in tears, threatening her with death, if she made any
outcry; after which they made off, unobserved, with great part of
Pericone's most precious things and betook themselves in haste to the
sea-shore, where Marato and the lady embarked without delay on board
the ship, whilst his companions returned whence they came.
[Footnote 116: The modern Klarentza in the north-west of the Morea,
which latter province formed part of Roumelia under the Turkish
domination.]
The sailors, having a fair wind and a fresh, made sail and set out on
their voyage, whilst the princess sore and bitterly bewailed both her
former and that her second misadventure; but Marato, with that Saint
Waxeth-in-hand, which God hath given us [men,] proceeded to comfort
her after such a fashion that she soon grew familiar with him and
forgetting Pericone, began to feel at her ease, when fortune, as if
not content with the past tribulations wherewith it had visited her,
prepared her a new affliction; for that, she being, as we have already
more than once said, exceeding fair of favour and of very engaging
manners, the two young men, the masters of the ship, became so
passionately enamoured of her that, forgetting all else, they studied
only to serve and pleasure her, being still on their guard lest Marato
should get wind of the cause. Each becoming aware of the other's
passion, they privily took counsel together thereof, and agreed to
join in getting the lady for themselves and enjoy her in common, as if
love should suffer this, as do merchandise and gain.
Seeing her straitly guarded by Marato and being thereby hindered of
their purpose, one day, as the ship fared on at full speed under sail