The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
son, whom both she and his father loved with an exceeding love, both
for that he was their child and that he deserved it by reason of his
worth and virtues. He, being some six years older than Jeannette and
seeing her exceeding fair and graceful, became so sore enamoured of
her that he saw nought beyond her; yet, for that he deemed her to be
of mean extraction, not only dared he not demand her of his father and
mother to wife, but, fearing to be blamed for having set himself to
love unworthily, he held his love, as most he might, hidden; wherefore
it tormented him far more than if he had discovered it; and thus it
came to pass that, for excess of chagrin, he fell sick and that
grievously. Divers physicians were called in to medicine him, who,
having noted one and another symptom of his case and being
nevertheless unable to discover what ailed him, all with one accord
despaired of his recovery; whereat the young man's father and mother
suffered dolour and melancholy so great that greater might not be
brooked, and many a time, with piteous prayers, they questioned him of
the cause of his malady, whereto or sighs he gave for answer or
replied that he felt himself all wasting away.
It chanced one day that, what while a doctor, young enough, but
exceedingly deeply versed in science, sat by him and held him by the
arm in that part where leaches use to seek the pulse, Jeannette, who,
of regard for his mother, tended him solicitously, entered, on some
occasion or another, the chamber where the young man lay. When the
latter saw her, without word said or gesture made, he felt the amorous
ardour redouble in his heart, wherefore his pulse began to beat
stronglier than of wont; the which the leach incontinent noted and
marvelling, abode still to see how long this should last. As soon as
Jeannette left the chamber, the beating abated, wherefore it seemed to
the physician he had gotten impartment of the cause of the young man's
ailment, and after waiting awhile, he let call Jeannette to him, as he
would question her of somewhat, still holding the sick man by the arm.
She came to him incontinent and no sooner did she enter than the
beating of the youth's pulse returned and she being gone again,
ceased. Thereupon, it seeming to the physician that he had full enough
assurance, he rose and taking the young man's father and mother apart,
said to them, 'The healing of your son is not in the succour of
physicians, but abideth in the hands of Jeannette, whom, as I have by
sure signs manifestly recognized, the young man ardently loveth,
albeit, for all I can see, she is unaware thereof. You know now what
you have to do, if his life be dear to you.'
The gentleman and his lady, hearing this, were well pleased, inasmuch
as some means was found for his recoverance, albeit it irked them sore
that the means in question should be that whereof they misdoubted
them, to wit, that they should give Jeannette to their son to wife.
Accordingly, the physician being gone, they went into the sick man and
the lady bespoke him thus: 'Son mine, I could never have believed that
thou wouldst keep from me any desire of thine, especially seeing
thyself pine away for lack thereof; for that thou shouldst have been
and shouldst be assured that there is nought I can for thy
contentment, were it even less than seemly, which I would not do as
for myself. But, since thou hast e'en done this, God the Lord hath
been more pitiful over thee than thou thyself and that thou mayst not
die of this sickness, hath shown me the cause of thine ill, which is
no otherwhat than excess of love for some damsel or other, whoever she
may be; and this, indeed, thou needest not have thought shame to
discover, for that thine age requireth it, and wert thou not
enamoured, I should hold thee of very little account. Wherefore, my
son, dissemble not with me, but in all security discover to me thine
every desire and put away from thee the melancholy and the
thought-taking which be upon thee and from which proceedeth this thy
sickness and take comfort and be assured that there is nothing of that
which thou mayst impose on me for thy satisfaction but I will do it to
the best of my power, as she who loveth thee more than her life.
Banish shamefastness and fearfulness and tell me if I can do aught to
further thy passion; and if thou find me not diligent therein or if I
bring it not to effect for thee, account me the cruellest mother that
ever bore son.'
The young man, hearing his mother's words, was at first abashed, but
presently, bethinking himself that none was better able than she to
satisfy his wishes, he put away shamefastness and said thus to her:
'Madam, nothing hath wrought so effectually with me to keep my love
hidden as my having noted of most folk that, once they are grown in
years, they choose not to remember them of having themselves been
young. But, since in this I find you reasonable, not only will I not
deny that to be true which you say you have observed, but I will, to
boot, discover to you of whom [I am enamoured], on condition that you
will, to the best of your power, give effect to your promise; and thus
may you have me whole again.' Whereto the lady (trusting overmuch in
that which was not to come to pass for her on such wise as she deemed
in herself) answered freely that he might in all assurance discover to
her his every desire, for that she would without any delay address
herself to contrive that he should have his pleasure. 'Madam,' then
said the youth, 'the exceeding beauty and commendable fashions of our
Jeannette and my unableness to make her even sensible, still less to
move her to pity, of my love and the having never dared to discover it
unto any have brought me whereas you see me; and if that which you
have promised me come not, one way or another, to pass, you may be
assured that my life will be brief.'
The lady, to whom it appeared more a time for comfort than for
reproof, said, smilingly, 'Alack, my son, hast thou then for this
suffered thyself to languish thus? Take comfort and leave me do, once
thou shalt be recovered.' The youth, full of good hope, in a very
short time showed signs of great amendment, whereas the lady, being
much rejoiced, began to cast about how she might perform that which
she had promised him. Accordingly, calling Jeannette to her one day,
she asked her very civilly, as by way of a jest, if she had a lover;
whereupon she waxed all red and answered, 'Madam, it concerneth not
neither were it seemly in a poor damsel like myself, banished from
house and home and abiding in others' service, to think of love.'
Quoth the lady, 'An you have no lover, we mean to give you one, in
whom you may rejoice and live merry and have more delight of your
beauty, for it behoveth not that so handsome a girl as you are abide
without a lover.' To this Jeannette made answer, 'Madam, you took me
from my father's poverty and have reared me as a daughter, wherefore
it behoveth me to do your every pleasure; but in this I will nowise
comply with you, and therein methinketh I do well. If it please you
give me a husband, him do I purpose to love, but none other; for that,
since of the inheritance of my ancestors nought is left me save only
honour, this latter I mean to keep and preserve as long as life shall
endure to me.'
This speech seemed to the lady very contrary to that whereto she
thought to come for the keeping of her promise to her son,--albeit,
like a discreet woman as she was, she inwardly much commended the
damsel therefor,--and she said, 'How now, Jeannette? If our lord the
king, who is a young cavalier, as thou art a very fair damsel, would
fain have some easance of thy love, wouldst thou deny it to him?'
Whereto she answered forthright, 'The king might do me violence, but
of my consent he should never avail to have aught of me save what was
honourable.' The lady, seeing how she was minded, left parleying with
her and bethought herself to put her to the proof; wherefore she told
her son that, whenas he should be recovered, she would contrive to
get her alone with him in a chamber, so he might make shift to have
his pleasure of her, saying that it appeared to her unseemly that she
should, procuress-wise, plead for her son and solicit her own maid.
With this the young man was nowise content and presently waxed
grievously worse, which when his mother saw, she opened her mind to
Jeannette, but, finding her more constant than ever, recounted what
she had done to her husband, and he and she resolved of one accord,
grievous though it seemed to them, to give her to him to wife,
choosing rather to have their son alive with a wife unsorted to his
quality than dead without any; and so, after much parley, they did;
whereat Jeannette was exceeding content and with a devout heart
rendered thanks to God, who had not forgotten her; but for all that
she never avouched herself other than the daughter of a Picard. As for
the young man, he presently recovered and celebrating his nuptials,
the gladdest man alive, proceeded to lead a merry life with his bride.
Meanwhile, Perrot, who had been left in Wales with the King of
England's marshal, waxed likewise in favour with his lord and grew up
very goodly of his person and doughty as any man in the island,
insomuch that neither in tourneying nor jousting nor in any other act
of arms was there any in the land who could cope with him; wherefore
he was everywhere known and famous under the name of Perrot the
Picard. And even as God had not forgotten his sister, so on like wise
He showed that He had him also in mind; for that a pestilential
sickness, being come into those parts, carried off well nigh half the
people thereof, besides that most part of those who survived fled for
fear into other lands; wherefore the whole country appeared desert. In
this mortality, the marshal his lord and his lady and only son,
together with many others, brothers and nephews and kinsmen, all died,
nor was any left of all his house save a daughter, just husband-ripe,
and Perrot, with sundry other serving folk. The pestilence being
somewhat abated, the young lady, with the approof and by the counsel
of some few gentlemen of the country[128] left alive, took Perrot, for
that he was a man of worth and prowess, to husband and made him lord
of all that had fallen to her by inheritance; nor was it long ere the
King of England, hearing the marshal to be dead and knowing the worth
of Perrot the Picard, substituted him in the dead man's room and made
him his marshal. This, in brief, is what came of the two innocent
children of the Count of Antwerp, left by him for lost.
[Footnote 128: _Paesani_, lit., countrymen; but Boccaccio evidently
uses the word in the sense of "vassals."]
Eighteen years were now passed since the count's flight from Paris,
when, as he abode in Ireland, having suffered many things in a very
sorry way of life, there took him a desire to learn, as he might, what
was come of his children. Wherefore, seeing himself altogether changed
of favour from that which he was wont to be and feeling himself, for
long exercise, grown more robust of his person than he had been when
young and abiding in ease and idlesse, he took leave of him with whom
he had so long abidden and came, poor and ill enough in case, to
England. Thence he betook himself whereas he had left Perrot and found
him a marshal and a great lord and saw him robust and goodly of
person; the which was mighty pleasing unto him, but he would not make
himself known to him till he should have learned how it was with
Jeannette. Accordingly, he set out and stayed not till he came to
London, where, cautiously enquiring of the lady with whom he had left
his daughter and of her condition, he found Jeannette married to her