The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
a heart such as this; and in this my father hath done discreetly.' So
saying, she set the heart to her lips and kissing it, said, 'Still in
everything and even to this extreme limit of my life have I found my
father's love most tender towards me; but now more than ever;
wherefore do than render him on my part for so great a gift the last
thanks I shall ever have to give him.'
Then, bending down over the cup, which she held fast, she said,
looking upon the heart, 'Alack, sweetest harbourage of all my
pleasures, accursed be his cruelty who maketh me now to see thee with
the eyes of the body! Enough was it for me at all hours to behold thee
with those of the mind. Thou hast finished thy course and hast
acquitted thyself on such wise as was vouchsafed thee of fortune; thou
art come to the end whereunto each runneth; thou hast left the toils
and miseries of the world, and of thy very enemy thou hast that
sepulchre which thy worth hath merited. There lacked nought to thee to
make thy funeral rites complete save her tears whom in life thou so
lovedst, the which that thou mightest have, God put it into the heart
of my unnatural father to send thee to me and I will give them to
thee, albeit I had purposed to die with dry eyes and visage undismayed
of aught; and having given them to thee, I will without delay so do
that my soul, thou working it,[221] shall rejoin that soul which thou
erst so dearly guardedst. And in what company could I betake me more
contentedly or with better assurance to the regions unknown than with
it?[222] Certain am I that it abideth yet herewithin[223] and vieweth
the seats of its delights and mine and as that which I am assured
still loveth me, awaiteth my soul, whereof it is over all beloved.'
[Footnote 221: _i.e._ thou being the means of bringing about the
conjunction (_adoperandol tu_).]
[Footnote 222: _i.e._ Guiscardo's soul.]
[Footnote 223: _i.e._ in the heart.]
So saying, no otherwise than as she had a fountain of water in her
head, bowing herself over the bowl, without making any womanly outcry,
she began, lamenting, to shed so many and such tears that they were a
marvel to behold, kissing the dead heart the while an infinite number
of times. Her women, who stood about her, understood not what this
heart was nor what her words meant, but, overcome with compassion,
wept all and in vain questioned her affectionately of the cause of her
lament and studied yet more, as best they knew and might, to comfort
her. The lady, having wept as much as herseemed fit, raised her head
and drying her eyes, said, 'O much-loved heart, I have accomplished
mine every office towards thee, nor is there left me aught else to do
save to come with my soul and bear thine company.' So saying, she
called for the vial wherein was the water she had made the day before
and poured the latter into the bowl where was the heart bathed with so
many of her tears; then, setting her mouth thereto without any fear,
she drank it all off and having drunken, mounted, with the cup in her
hand, upon the bed, where composing her body as most decently she
might, she pressed her dead lover's heart to her own and without
saying aught, awaited death.
Her women, seeing and hearing all this, albeit they knew not what
water this was she had drunken, had sent to tell Tancred everything,
and he, fearing that which came to pass, came quickly down into his
daughter's chamber, where he arrived what time she laid herself on her
bed and addressed himself too late to comfort her with soft words;
but, seeing the extremity wherein she was, he fell a-weeping
grievously; whereupon quoth the lady to him, 'Tancred, keep these
tears against a less desired fate than this of mine and give them not
to me, who desire them not. Who ever saw any, other than thou, lament
for that which he himself hath willed? Nevertheless, if aught yet live
in thee of the love which once thou borest me, vouchsafe me for a last
boon that, since it was not thy pleasure that I should privily and in
secret live with Guiscardo, my body may openly abide with his,
whereassoever thou hast caused cast him dead.' The agony of his grief
suffered not the prince to reply; whereupon the young lady, feeling
herself come to her end, strained the dead heart to her breast and
said, 'Abide ye with God, for I go hence.' Then, closing her eyes and
losing every sense, she departed this life of woe. Such, then, as you
have heard, was the sorrowful ending of the loves of Guiscardo and
Ghismonda, whose bodies Tancred, after much lamentation, too late
repenting him of his cruelty, caused honourably bury in one same
sepulchre, amid the general mourning of all the people of Salerno."
THE SECOND STORY
[Day the Fourth]
FRA ALBERTO GIVETH A LADY TO BELIEVE THAT THE ANGEL GABRIEL
IS ENAMOURED OF HER AND IN HIS SHAPE LIETH WITH HER SUNDRY
TIMES; AFTER WHICH, FOR FEAR OF HER KINSMEN, HE CASTETH
HIMSELF FORTH OF HER WINDOW INTO THE CANAL AND TAKETH REFUGE
IN THE HOUSE OF A POOR MAN, WHO ON THE MORROW CARRIETH HIM,
IN THE GUISE OF A WILD MAN OF THE WOODS, TO THE PIAZZA,
WHERE, BEING RECOGNIZED, HE IS TAKEN BY HIS BRETHREN AND PUT
IN PRISON
The story told by Fiammetta had more than once brought the tears to
the eyes of the ladies her companions; but, it being now finished, the
king with a stern countenance said, "My life would seem to me a little
price to give for half the delight that Guiscardo had with Ghismonda,
nor should any of you ladies marvel thereat, seeing that every hour of
my life I suffer a thousand deaths, nor for all that is a single
particle of delight vouchsafed me. But, leaving be my affairs for the
present, it is my pleasure that Pampinea follow on the order of the
discourse with some story of woeful chances and fortunes in part like
to mine own; which if she ensue like as Fiammetta hath begun, I shall
doubtless begin to feel some dew fallen upon my fire." Pampinea,
hearing the order laid upon her, more by her affection apprehended the
mind of the ladies her companions than that of Filostrato by his
words,[224] wherefore, being more disposed to give them some diversion
than to content the king, farther than in the mere letter of his
commandment, she bethought herself to tell a story, that should,
without departing from the proposed theme, give occasion for laughter,
and accordingly began as follows:
[Footnote 224: _i.e._ was more inclined to consider the wishes of the
ladies her companions, which she divined by sympathy, than those of
Filostrato, as shown by his words (_più per la sua affezione cognobbe
l'animo delle campagne che quello del re per le sue parole_). It is
difficult, however, in this instance as in many others, to discover
with certainty Boccaccio's exact meaning, owing to his affectation of
Ciceronian concision and delight in obscure elliptical forms of
construction; whilst his use of words in a remote or unfamiliar sense
and the impossibility of deciding, in certain cases, the person of the
pronouns and adjectives employed tend still farther to darken counsel.
_E.g._, if we render _affezione_ sentiment, _cognobbe_ (as
_riconobbe_) acknowledged, recognized, and read _le sue parole_ as
meaning _her_ (instead of _his_) words, the whole sense of the passage
is changed, and we must read it "more by her sentiment (_i.e._ by the
tendency and spirit of her story) recognized the inclination of her
companions than that of the king by her [actual] words." I have
commented thus at large on this passage, in order to give my readers
some idea of the difficulties which at every page beset the translator
of the Decameron and which make Boccaccio perhaps the most troublesome
of all authors to render into representative English.]
"The vulgar have a proverb to the effect that he who is naught and is
held good may do ill and it is not believed of him; the which
affordeth me ample matter for discourse upon that which hath been
proposed to me and at the same time to show what and how great is the
hypocrisy of the clergy, who, with garments long and wide and faces
paled by art and voices humble and meek to solicit the folk, but
exceeding loud and fierce to rebuke in others their own vices, pretend
that themselves by taking and others by giving to them come to
salvation, and to boot, not as men who have, like ourselves, to
purchase paradise, but as in a manner they were possessors and lords
thereof, assign unto each who dieth, according to the sum of the
monies left them by him, a more or less excellent place there,
studying thus to deceive first themselves, an they believe as they
say, and after those who put faith for that matter in their words.
Anent whom, were it permitted me to discover as much as it behoved, I
would quickly make clear to many simple folk that which they keep
hidden under those huge wide gowns of theirs. But would God it might
betide them all of their cozening tricks, as it betided a certain
minor friar, and he no youngling, but held one of the first
casuists[225] in Venice; of whom it especially pleaseth me to tell
you, so as peradventure somewhat to cheer your hearts, that are full
of compassion for the death of Ghismonda, with laughter and pleasance.
[Footnote 225: Lit. of those who _was_ held of the greatest casuists
(_di quelli che de' maggior cassesi era tenuto_). This is another very
obscure passage. The meaning of the word _cassesi_ is unknown and we
can only guess it to be a dialectic (probably Venetian) corruption of
the word _casisti_ (casuists). The Giunta edition separates the word
thus, _casse si_, making _si_ a mere corroborative prefix to _era_,
but I do not see how the alteration helps us, the word _casse_
(chests, boxes) being apparently meaningless in this connection.]
There was, then, noble ladies, in Imola, a man of wicked and corrupt
life, who was called Berto della Massa and whose lewd fashions, being
well known of the Imolese, had brought him into such ill savour with
them that there was none in the town who would credit him, even when
he said sooth; wherefore, seeing that his shifts might no longer stand
him in stead there, he removed in desperation to Venice, the
receptacle of every kind of trash, thinking to find there new means of
carrying on his wicked practices. There, as if conscience-stricken for
the evil deeds done by him in the past, feigning himself overcome with
the utmost humility and waxing devouter than any man alive, he went
and turned Minor Friar and styled himself Fra Alberta da Imola; in
which habit he proceeded to lead, to all appearance, a very austere
life, greatly commending abstinence and mortification and never eating
flesh nor drinking wine, whenas he had not thereof that which was to
his liking. In short, scarce was any ware of him when from a thief, a
pimp, a forger, a manslayer, he suddenly became a great preacher,
without having for all that forsworn the vices aforesaid, whenas he
might secretly put them in practice. Moreover, becoming a priest, he
would still, whenas he celebrated mass at the altar, an he were seen
of many, beweep our Saviour's passion, as one whom tears cost little,
whenas he willed it. Brief, what with his preachings and his tears, he
contrived on such wise to inveigle the Venetians that he was trustee
and depository of well nigh every will made in the town and guardian
of folk's monies, besides being confessor and counsellor of the most
part of the men and women of the place; and doing thus, from wolf he
was become shepherd and the fame of his sanctity was far greater in
those parts than ever was that of St. Francis at Assisi.
It chanced one day that a vain simple young lady, by name Madam
Lisetta da Ca[226] Quirino, wife of a great merchant who was gone with