The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
nor the other, adroitly riddeth herself of both by causing one enter
for dead into a sepulchre and the other bring him forth thereof for
dead, on such wise that they cannot avail to accomplish the condition
imposed_ 428
THE SECOND STORY. _An abbess, arising in haste and in the dark to find
one of her nuns, who had been denounced to her, in bed with her lover
and, thinking to cover her head with her coif, donneth instead thereof
the breeches of a priest who is abed with her; the which the accused
nun observing and making her aware thereof, she is acquitted and hath
leisure to be with her lover_ 432
THE THIRD STORY. _Master Simone, at the instance of Bruno and
Buffalmacco and Nello, maketh Calandrino believe that he is with
child; wherefore he giveth them capons and money for medicines and
recovereth without bringing forth_ 435
THE FOURTH STORY. _Cecco Fortarrigo gameth away at Buonconvento all
his good and the monies of Cecco Angiolieri [his master;] moreover,
running after the latter, in his shirt, and avouching that he hath
robbed him, he causeth him be taken of the countryfolk; then, donning
Angiolieri's clothes and mounting his palfrey, he maketh off and
leaveth the other in his shirt_ 438
THE FIFTH STORY. _Calandrino falleth in love with a wench and Bruno
writeth him a talisman, wherewith when he toucheth her, she goeth with
him; and his wife finding them together, there betideth him grievous
trouble and annoy_ 441
THE SIXTH STORY. _Two young gentlemen lodge the night with an
innkeeper, whereof one goeth to lie with the host's daughter, whilst
his wife unwittingly coucheth with the other; after which he who lay
with the girl getteth him to bed with her father and telleth him all,
thinking to bespeak his comrade. Therewithal they come to words, but
the wife, perceiving her mistake, entereth her daughter's bed and
thence with certain words appeaseth everything_ 446
THE SEVENTH STORY. _Talano di Molese dreameth that a wolf mangleth all
his wife's neck and face and biddeth her beware thereof; but she
payeth no heed to his warning and it befalleth her even as he had
dreamed_ 450
THE EIGHTH STORY. _Biondello cheateth Ciacco of a dinner, whereof the
other craftily avengeth himself, procuring him to be shamefully
beaten_ 451
THE NINTH STORY. _Two young men seek counsel of Solomon, one how he
may be loved and the other how he may amend his froward wife, and in
answer he biddeth the one love and the other get him to Goosebridge_
454
THE TENTH STORY. _Dom Gianni, at the instance of his gossip Pietro,
performeth a conjuration for the purpose of causing the latter's wife
to become a mare; but, whenas he cometh to put on the tail, Pietro
marreth the whole conjuration, saying that he will not have a tail_
457
DAY THE TENTH 462
THE FIRST STORY. _A knight in the king's service of Spain thinking
himself ill guerdoned, the king by very certain proof showeth him that
this is not his fault, but that of his own perverse fortune, and after
largesseth him magnificently_ 462
THE SECOND STORY. _Ghino di Tacco taketh the Abbot of Cluny and having
cured him of the stomach-complaint, letteth him go; whereupon the
Abbot, returning to the court of Rome, reconcileth him with Pope
Boniface and maketh him a Prior of the Hospitallers_ 464
THE THIRD STORY. _Mithridanes, envying Nathan his hospitality and
generosity and going to kill him, falleth in with himself, without
knowing him, and is by him instructed of the course he shall take to
accomplish his purpose; by means whereof he findeth him, as he himself
had ordered it, in a coppice and recognizing him, is ashamed and
becometh his friend_ 468
THE FOURTH STORY. _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_ 472
THE FIFTH STORY. _Madam Dianora requireth of Messer Ansaldo a garden
as fair in January as in May, and he by binding himself [to pay a
great sum of money] to a nigromancer, giveth it to her. Her husband
granteth her leave to do Messer Ansaldo's pleasure, but he, hearing of
the former's generosity, absolveth her of her promise, whereupon the
nigromancer, in his turn, acquitteth Messer Ansaldo of his bond,
without willing aught of his_ 478
THE SIXTH STORY. _King Charles the Old, the Victorious, falleth
enamoured of a young girl, but after, ashamed of his fond thought,
honourably marrieth both her and her sister_ 481
THE SEVENTH STORY. _King Pedro of Arragon, coming to know the fervent
love borne him by Lisa, comforteth the lovesick maid and presently
marrieth her to a noble young gentleman; then, kissing her on the
brow, he ever after avoucheth himself her knight_ 485
THE EIGHTH STORY. _Sophronia, thinking to marry Gisippus, becometh the
wife of Titus Quintius Fulvus and with him betaketh herself to Rome,
whither Gisippus cometh in poor case and conceiving himself slighted
of Titus, declareth, so he may die, to have slain a man. Titus,
recognizing him, to save him, avoucheth himself to have done the deed,
and the true murderer, seeing this, discovereth himself; whereupon
they are all three liberated by Octavianus and Titus, giving Gisippus
his sister to wife, hath all his good in common with him_ 491
THE NINTH STORY. _Saladin, in the disguise of a merchant, is
honourably entertained by Messer Torello d'Istria, who, presently
undertaking the [third] crusade, appointeth his wife a term for her
marrying again. He is taken [by the Saracens] and cometh, by his skill
in training hawks, under the notice of the Soldan, who knoweth him
again and discovering himself to him, entreateth him with the utmost
honour. Then, Torello falling sick for languishment, he is by magical
art transported in one night [from Alexandria] to Pavia, where, being
recognized by his wife at the bride-feast held for her marrying again,
he returneth with her to his own house_ 503
THE TENTH STORY. _The Marquess of Saluzzo, constrained by the prayers
of his vassals to marry, but determined to do it after his own
fashion, taketh to wife the daughter of a peasant and hath of her two
children, whom he maketh believe to her to put to death; after which,
feigning to be grown weary of her and to have taken another wife, he
letteth bring his own daughter home to his house, as she were his new
bride, and turneth his wife away in her shift; but, finding her
patient under everything, he fetcheth her home again, dearer than
ever, and showing her her children grown great, honoureth and letteth
honour her as marchioness_ 510
CONCLUSION OF THE AUTHOR 525
HERE BEGINNETH THE BOOK CALLED DECAMERON AND SURNAMED PRINCE GALAHALT
WHEREIN ARE CONTAINED AN HUNDRED STORIES IN TEN DAYS TOLD BY SEVEN
LADIES AND THREE YOUNG MEN
PROEM
A kindly thing it is to have compassion of the afflicted and albeit it
well beseemeth every one, yet of those is it more particularly
required who have erst had need of comfort and have found it in any,
amongst whom, if ever any had need thereof or held it dear or took
pleasure therein aforetimes, certes, I am one of these. For that,
having from my first youth unto this present been beyond measure
inflamed with a very high and noble passion (higher and nobler,
perchance, than might appear, were I to relate it, to sort with my low
estate) albeit by persons of discretion who had intelligence thereof I
was commended therefor and accounted so much the more worth, natheless
a passing sore travail it was to me to bear it, not, certes, by reason
of the cruelty of the beloved lady, but because of the exceeding
ardour begotten in my breast of an ill-ordered appetite, for which,
for that it suffered me not to stand content at any reasonable bounds,
caused me ofttimes feel more chagrin than I had occasion for. In this
my affliction the pleasant discourse of a certain friend of mine and
his admirable consolations afforded me such refreshment that I firmly
believe of these it came that I died not. But, as it pleased Him who,
being Himself infinite, hath for immutable law appointed unto all
things mundane that they shall have an end, my love,--beyond every
other fervent and which nor stress of reasoning nor counsel, no, nor
yet manifest shame nor peril that might ensue thereof, had availed
either to break or to bend,--of its own motion, in process of time, on
such wise abated that of itself at this present it hath left me only
that pleasance which it is used to afford unto whoso adventureth
himself not too far in the navigation of its profounder oceans; by
reason whereof, all chagrin being done away, I feel it grown
delightsome, whereas it used to be grievous. Yet, albeit the pain hath
ceased, not, therefore, is the memory fled of the benefits whilom
received and the kindnesses bestowed on me by those to whom, of the
goodwill they bore me, my troubles were grievous; nor, as I deem, will
it ever pass away, save for death. And for that gratitude, to my
thinking, is, among the other virtues, especially commendable and its
contrary blameworthy, I have, that I may not appear ungrateful,
bethought myself, now that I can call myself free, to endeavour, in
that little which is possible to me, to afford some relief, in
requital of that which I received aforetime,--if not to those who
succoured me and who, belike, by reason of their good sense or of
their fortune, have no occasion therefor,--to those, at least, who
stand in need thereof. And albeit my support, or rather I should say
my comfort, may be and indeed is of little enough avail to the
afflicted, natheless meseemeth it should rather be proffered whereas
the need appeareth greater, as well because it will there do more
service as for that it will still be there the liefer had. And who
will deny that this [comfort], whatsoever [worth] it be, it behoveth
much more to give unto lovesick ladies than unto men? For that these
within their tender bosoms, fearful and shamefast, hold hid the fires
of love (which those who have proved know how much more puissance they
have than those which are manifest), and constrained by the wishes,
the pleasures, the commandments of fathers, mothers, brothers and
husbands, abide most time enmewed in the narrow compass of their
chambers and sitting in a manner idle, willing and willing not in one
breath, revolve in themselves various thoughts which it is not
possible should still be merry. By reason whereof if there arise in
their minds any melancholy, bred of ardent desire, needs must it with
grievous annoy abide therein, except it be done away by new discourse;
more by token that they are far less strong than men to endure. With
men in love it happeneth not on this wise, as we may manifestly see.
They, if any melancholy or heaviness of thought oppress them, have
many means of easing it or doing it away, for that to them, an they
have a mind thereto, there lacketh not commodity of going about
hearing and seeing many things, fowling, hunting, fishing, riding,
gaming and trafficking; each of which means hath, altogether or in
part, power to draw the mind unto itself and to divert it from
troublous thought, at least for some space of time, whereafter, one
way or another, either solacement superveneth or else the annoy
groweth less. Wherefore, to the end that the unright of Fortune may by
me in part be amended, which, where there is the less strength to
endure, as we see it in delicate ladies, hath there been the more
niggard of support, I purpose, for the succour and solace of ladies in
love (unto others[1] the needle and the spindle and the reel suffice)
to recount an hundred stories or fables or parables or histories or