The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
son, which greatly rejoiced him and he counted all his past adversity
a little thing, since he had found his children again alive and in
good case.
Then, desirous of seeing Jeannette, he began beggarwise, to haunt the
neighbourhood of her house, where one day Jamy Lamiens, (for so was
Jeannette's husband called,) espying him and having compassion on him,
for that he saw him old and poor, bade one of his servants bring him
in and give him to eat for the love of God, which the man readily did.
Now Jeannette had had several children by Jamy, whereof the eldest was
no more than eight years old, and they were the handsomest and
sprightliest children in the world. When they saw the count eat, they
came one and all about him and began to caress him, as if, moved by
some occult virtue, they divined him to be their grandfather. He,
knowing them for his grandchildren, fell to fondling and making much
of them, wherefore the children would not leave him, albeit he who had
charge of their governance called them. Jeannette, hearing this,
issued forth of a chamber therenigh and coming whereas the count was,
chid them amain and threatened to beat them, an they did not what
their governor willed. The children began to weep and say that they
would fain abide with that honest man, who loved them better than
their governor, whereat both the lady and the count laughed. Now the
latter had risen, nowise as a father, but as a poor man, to do honour
to his daughter, as to a mistress, and seeing her, felt a marvellous
pleasure at his heart. But she nor then nor after knew him any whit,
for that he was beyond measure changed from what he was used to be,
being grown old and hoar and bearded and lean and swart, and appeared
altogether another man than the count.
The lady then, seeing that the children were unwilling to leave him
and wept, when she would have them go away, bade their governor let
them be awhile and the children thus being with the good man, it
chanced that Jamy's father returned and heard from their governor what
had passed, whereupon quoth the marshal, who held Jeannette in
despite, 'Let them be, God give them ill-luck! They do but hark back
to that whence they sprang. They come by their mother of a vagabond
and therefore it is no wonder if they are fain to herd with
vagabonds.' The count heard these words and was mightily chagrined
thereat; nevertheless, he shrugged his shoulders and put up with the
affront, even as he had put up with many others. Jamy, hearing how the
children had welcomed the honest man, to wit, the count, albeit it
misliked him, nevertheless so loved them that, rather than see them
weep, he commanded that, if the good man chose to abide there in any
capacity, he should be received into his service. The count answered
that he would gladly abide there, but he knew not to do aught other
than tend horses, whereto he had been used all his lifetime. A horse
was accordingly assigned to him and when he had cared for it, he
busied himself with making sport for the children.
Whilst fortune handled the Count of Antwerp and his children on such
wise as hath been set out, it befell that the King of France, after
many truces made with the Germans, died and his son, whose wife was
she through whom the count had been banished, was crowned in his
place; and no sooner was the current truce expired than he again began
a very fierce war. To his aid the King of England, as a new-made
kinsman, despatched much people, under the commandment of Perrot his
marshal and Jamy Lamiens, son of the other marshal, and with them went
the good man, to wit, the count, who, without being recognized of any,
abode a pretty while with the army in the guise of a horseboy, and
there, like a man of mettle as he was, wrought good galore, more than
was required of him, both with counsels and with deeds.
During the war, it came to pass that the Queen of France fell
grievously sick and feeling herself nigh unto death, contrite for all
her sins, confessed herself unto the Archbishop of Rouen, who was held
of all a very holy and good man. Amongst her other sins, she related
to him that which the Count of Antwerp had most wrongfully suffered
through her; nor was she content to tell it to him alone, nay, but
before many other men of worth she recounted all as it had passed,
beseeching them so to do with the king that the count, an he were on
life, or, if not, one of his children, should be restored to his
estate; after which she lingered not long, but, departing this life,
was honourably buried. Her confession, being reported to the king,
moved him, after he had heaved divers sighs of regret for the wrong
done to the nobleman, to let cry throughout all the army and in many
other parts, that whoso should give him news of the Count of Antwerp
or of either of his children should for each be wonder-well guerdoned
of him, for that he held him, upon the queen's confession, innocent of
that for which he had gone into exile and was minded to restore him to
his first estate and more.
The count, in his guise of a horseboy, hearing this and being assured
that it was the truth,[129] betook himself forthright to Jamy Lamiens
and prayed him go with him to Perrot, for that he had a mind to
discover to them that which the king went seeking. All three being
then met together, quoth the count to Perrot, who had it already in
mind to discover himself, 'Perrot, Jamy here hath thy sister to wife
nor ever had any dowry with her; wherefore, that thy sister may not go
undowered, I purpose that he and none other shall, by making thee
known as the son of the Count of Antwerp, have this great reward that
the king promiseth for thee and for Violante, thy sister and his wife,
and myself, who am the Count of Antwerp and your father.' Perrot,
hearing this and looking steadfastly upon him, presently knew him and
cast himself, weeping, at his feet and embraced him, saying, 'Father
mine, you are dearly welcome.' Jamy, hearing first what the count
said and after seeing what Perrot did, was overcome at once with such
wonderment and such gladness that he scarce knew what he should do.
However, after awhile, giving credence to the former's speech and sore
ashamed for the injurious words he had whiles used to the
hostler-count, he let himself fall, weeping, at his feet and humbly
besought him pardon of every past affront, the which the count, having
raised him to his feet, graciously accorded him.
[Footnote 129: _i.e._ that it was not a snare.]
Then, after they had all three discoursed awhile of each one's various
adventures and wept and rejoiced together amain, Perrot and Jamy would
have reclad the count, who would on nowise suffer it, but willed that
Jamy, having first assured himself of the promised guerdon, should,
the more to shame the king, present him to the latter in that his then
plight and in his groom's habit. Accordingly, Jamy, followed by the
count and Perrot, presented himself before the king, and offered,
provided he would guerdon him according to the proclamation made, to
produce to him the count and his children. The king promptly let bring
for all three a guerdon marvellous in Jamy's eyes and commanded that
he should be free to carry it off, whenas he should in very deed
produce the count and his children, as he promised. Jamy, then,
turning himself about and putting forward the count his horseboy and
Perrot, said, 'My lord, here be the father and the son; the daughter,
who is my wife and who is not here, with God's aid you shall soon
see.'
The king, hearing this, looked at the count and albeit he was sore
changed from that which he was used to be, yet, after he had awhile
considered him, he knew him and well nigh with tears in his eyes
raised him--for that he was on his knees before him--to his feet and
kissed and embraced him. Perrot, also, he graciously received and
commanded that the count should incontinent be furnished anew with
clothes and servants and horses and harness, according as his quality
required, which was straightway done. Moreover, he entreated Jamy with
exceeding honour and would fain know every particular of his[130] past
adventures. Then, Jamy being about to receive the magnificent guerdons
appointed him for having discovered the count and his children, the
former said to him, 'Take these of the munificence of our lord the
king and remember to tell thy father that thy children, his
grandchildren and mine, are not by their mother born of a vagabond.'
Jamy, accordingly, took the gifts and sent for his wife and mother to
Paris, whither came also Perrot's wife; and there they all
foregathered in the utmost joyance with the count, whom the king had
reinstated in all his good and made greater than he ever was. Then
all, with Gautier's leave, returned to their several homes and he
until his death abode in Paris more worshipfully than ever."
[Footnote 130: _Quære_, the Count's?]
THE NINTH STORY
[Day the Second]
BERNABO OF GENOA, DUPED BY AMBROGIUOLO, LOSETH HIS GOOD AND
COMMANDETH THAT HIS INNOCENT WIFE BE PUT TO DEATH. SHE
ESCAPETH AND SERVETH THE SOLDAN IN A MAN'S HABIT. HERE SHE
LIGHTETH UPON THE DECEIVER OF HER HUSBAND AND BRINGETH THE
LATTER TO ALEXANDRIA, WHERE, HER TRADUCER BEING PUNISHED,
SHE RESUMETH WOMAN'S APPAREL AND RETURNETH TO GENOA WITH HER
HUSBAND, RICH
Elisa having furnished her due with her pitiful story, Filomena the
queen, who was tall and goodly of person and smiling and agreeable of
aspect beyond any other of her sex, collecting herself, said, "Needs
must the covenant with Dioneo be observed, wherefore, there remaining
none other to tell than he and I, I will tell my story first, and he,
for that he asked it as a favour, shall be the last to speak." So
saying, she began thus, "There is a proverb oftentimes cited among the
common folk to the effect that the deceiver abideth[131] at the feet
of the deceived; the which meseemeth may by no reasoning be shown to
be true, an it approve not itself by actual occurrences. Wherefore,
whilst ensuing the appointed theme, it hath occurred to me, dearest
ladies, to show you, at the same time, that this is true, even as it
is said; nor should it mislike you to hear it, so you may know how to
keep yourselves from deceivers.
[Footnote 131: _Rimane._ The verb _rimanere_ is constantly used by the
old Italian writers in the sense of "to become," so that the proverb
cited in the text may be read "The deceiver becometh (_i.e._ findeth
himself in the end) at the feet (_i.e._ at the mercy) of the person
deceived."]
There were once at Paris in an inn certain very considerable Italian
merchants, who were come thither, according to their usance, some on
one occasion and some on another, and having one evening among others
supped all together merrily, they fell to devising of divers matters,
and passing from one discourse to another, they came at last to speak
of their wives, whom they had left at home, and one said jestingly, 'I
know not how mine doth; but this I know well, that, whenas there
cometh to my hand here any lass that pleaseth me, I leave on one side
the love I bear my wife and take of the other such pleasure as I may.'
'And I,' quoth another, 'do likewise, for that if I believe that my
wife pusheth her fortunes [in my absence,] she doth it, and if I
believe it not, still she doth it; wherefore tit for tat be it; an ass
still getteth as good as he giveth.'[132] A third, following on, came
well nigh to the same conclusion, and in brief all seemed agreed upon
this point, that the wives they left behind had no mind to lose time
in their husbands' absence. One only, who hight Bernabo Lomellini of
Genoa, maintained the contrary, avouching that he, by special grace of