The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio
Thereafter, with very discreet and secret ordinance, they foregathered
again and again in the same place, to the great contentment of them
both, and the work went on so briskly that the young lady became with
child, which was sore unwelcome both to the one and the other;
wherefore she used many arts to rid herself, contrary to the course of
nature, of her burden, but could nowise avail to accomplish it.
Therewithal, Pietro, fearing for his life, bethought himself to flee
and told her, to which she answered, 'An thou depart, I will without
fail kill myself.' Whereupon quoth Pietro, who loved her exceedingly,
'Lady mine, how wilt thou have me abide here? Thy pregnancy will
discover our default and it will lightly be pardoned unto thee; but I,
poor wretch, it will be must needs bear the penalty of thy sin and
mine own.' 'Pietro,' replied she, 'my sin must indeed be discovered;
but be assured that thine will never be known, an thou tell not
thyself.' Then said he, 'Since thou promisest me this, I will remain;
but look thou keep thy promise to me.'
After awhile, the young lady, who had as most she might, concealed her
being with child, seeing that, for the waxing of her body, she might
no longer dissemble it, one day discovered her case to her mother,
beseeching her with many tears to save her; whereupon the lady, beyond
measure woeful, gave her hard words galore and would know of her how
the thing had come about. Violante, in order that no harm might come
to Pietro, told her a story of her own devising, disguising the truth
in other forms. The lady believed it and to conceal her daughter's
default, sent her away to a country house of theirs. There, the time
of her delivery coming and the girl crying out, as women use to do,
what while her mother never dreamed that Messer Amerigo, who was well
nigh never wont to do so, should come thither, it chanced that he
passed, on his return from hawking, by the chamber where his daughter
lay and marvelling at the outcry she made, suddenly entered the
chamber and demanded what was to do. The lady, seeing her husband come
unawares, started up all woebegone and told him that which had
befallen the girl. But he, less easy of belief than his wife had been,
declared that it could not be true that she knew not by whom she was
with child and would altogether know who he was, adding that, by
confessing it, she might regain his favour; else must she make ready
to die without mercy.
The lady did her utmost to persuade her husband to abide content with
that which she had said; but to no purpose. He flew out into a passion
and running, with his naked sword in his hand, at his daughter, who,
what while her mother held her father in parley, had given birth to a
male child, said, 'Either do thou discover by whom the child was
begotten, or thou shalt die without delay.' The girl, fearing death,
broke her promise to Pietro and discovered all that had passed between
him and her; which when the gentleman heard, he fell into a fury of
anger and hardly withheld himself from slaying her.
However, after he had said to her that which his rage dictated to him,
he took horse again and returning to Trapani, recounted the affront
that Pietro had done him to a certain Messer Currado, who was captain
there for the king. The latter caused forthright seize Pietro, who was
off his guard, and put him to the torture, whereupon he confessed all
and being a few days after sentenced by the captain to be flogged
through the city and after strung up by the neck, Messer Amerigo
(whose wrath had not been done away by the having brought Pietro to
death,) in order that one and the same hour should rid the earth of
the two lovers and their child, put poison in a hanap with wine and
delivering it, together with a naked poniard, to a serving-man of his,
said to him, 'Carry these two things to Violante and bid her, on my
part, forthright take which she will of these two deaths, poison or
steel; else will I have her burned alive, even as she hath deserved,
in the presence of as many townsfolk as be here. This done, thou shalt
take the child, a few days agone born of her, and dash its head
against the wall and after cast it to the dogs to eat.' This barbarous
sentence passed by the cruel father upon his daughter and his
grandchild, the servant, who was more disposed to ill than to good,
went off upon his errand.
Meanwhile, Pietro, as he was carried to the gallows by the officers,
being scourged of them the while, passed, according as it pleased
those who led the company, before a hostelry wherein were three
noblemen of Armenia, who had been sent by the king of that country
ambassadors to Rome, to treat with the Pope of certain matters of
great moment, concerning a crusade that was about to be undertaken,
and who had lighted down there to take some days' rest and
refreshment. They had been much honoured by the noblemen of Trapani
and especially by Messer Amerigo, and hearing those pass who led
Pietro, they came to a window to see. Now Pietro was all naked to the
waist, with his hands bounden behind his back, and one of the three
ambassadors, a man of great age and authority, named Fineo, espied on
his breast a great vermeil spot, not painted, but naturally imprinted
on his skin, after the fashion of what women here call _roses_. Seeing
this, there suddenly recurred to his memory a son of his who had been
carried off by corsairs fifteen years agone upon the coast of Lazistan
and of whom he had never since been able to learn any news; and
considering the age of the poor wretch who was scourged, he bethought
himself that, if his son were alive, he must be of such an age as
Pietro appeared to him. Wherefore he began to suspect by that token
that it must be he and bethought himself that, were he indeed his son,
he should still remember him of his name and that of his father and of
the Armenian tongue. Accordingly, as he drew near, he called out,
saying, 'Ho, Teodoro!' Pietro, hearing this, straightway lifted up his
head and Fineo, speaking in Armenian, said to him, 'What countryman
art thou and whose son?' The sergeants who had him in charge halted
with him, of respect for the nobleman, so that Pietro answered,
saying, 'I was of Armenia and son to one Fineo and was brought hither,
as a little child, by I know not what folk.'
Fineo, hearing this, knew him for certain to be the son whom he had
lost, wherefore he came down, weeping, with his companions, and ran to
embrace him among all the sergeants; then, casting over his shoulders
a mantle of the richest silk, which he had on his own back, he
besought the officer who was escorting him to execution to be pleased
to wait there till such time as commandment should come to him to
carry the prisoner back; to which he answered that he would well. Now
Fineo had already learned the reason for which Pietro was being led to
death, report having noised it abroad everywhere; wherefore he
straightway betook himself, with his companions and their retinue, to
Messer Currado and bespoke him thus: 'Sir, he whom you have doomed to
die, as a slave, is a free man and my son and is ready to take to
wife her whom it is said he hath bereft of her maidenhead; wherefore
may it please you to defer the execution till such time as it may be
learned if she will have him to husband, so, in case she be willing,
you may not be found to have done contrary to the law.' Messer
Currado, hearing that the condemned man was Fineo's son, marvelled and
confessing that which the latter said to be true, was somewhat ashamed
of the unright of fortune and straightway caused carry Pietro home;
then, sending for Messer Amerigo, he acquainted him with these things.
Messer Amerigo, who by this believed his daughter and grandson to be
dead, was the woefullest man in the world for that which he had done,
seeing that all might very well have been set right, so but Violante
were yet alive. Nevertheless, he despatched a runner whereas his
daughter was, to the intent that, in case his commandment had not been
done, it should not be carried into effect. The messenger found the
servant sent by Messer Amerigo rating the lady, before whom he had
laid the poniard and the poison, for that she made not her election as
speedily [as he desired], and would have constrained her to take the
one or the other. But, hearing his lord's commandment, he let her be
and returning to Messer Amerigo, told him how the case stood, to the
great satisfaction of the latter, who, betaking himself whereas Fineo
was, excused himself, well nigh with tears, as best he knew, of that
which had passed, craving pardon therefor and evouching that, an
Teodoro would have his daughter to wife, he was exceeding well pleased
to give her to him. Fineo gladly received his excuses and answered,
'It is my intent that my son shall take your daughter to wife; and if
he will not, let the sentence passed upon him take its course.'
Accordingly, being thus agreed, they both repaired whereas Teodoro
abode yet all fearful of death, albeit he was rejoiced to have found
his father again, and questioned him of his mind concerning this
thing. When he heard that, an he would, he might have Violante to
wife, such was his joy that himseemed he had won from hell to heaven
at one bound, and he answered that this would be to him the utmost of
favours, so but it pleased both of them. Thereupon they sent to know
the mind of the young lady, who, whereas she abode in expectation of
death, the woefullest woman alive, hearing that which had betided and
was like to betide Teodoro, after much parley, began to lend some
faith to their words and taking a little comfort, answered that, were
she to ensue her own wishes in the matter, no greater happiness could
betide her than to be the wife of Teodoro; algates, she would do that
which her father should command her.
Accordingly, all parties being of accord, the two lovers were married
with the utmost magnificence, to the exceeding satisfaction of all the
townsfolk; and the young lady, heartening herself and letting rear her
little son, became ere long fairer than ever. Then, being risen from
childbed, she went out to meet Fineo, whose return was expected from
Rome, and paid him reverence as to a father; whereupon he, exceeding
well pleased to have so fair a daughter-in-law, caused celebrate their
nuptials with the utmost pomp and rejoicing and receiving her as a
daughter, ever after held her such. And after some days, taking ship
with his son and her and his little grandson, he carried them with him
into Lazistan, where the two lovers abode in peace and happiness, so
long as life endured unto them."
THE EIGHTH STORY
[Day the Fifth]
NASTAGIO DEGLI ONESTI, FALLING IN LOVE WITH A LADY OF THE
TRAVERSARI FAMILY, SPENDETH HIS SUBSTANCE WITHOUT BEING
BELOVED IN RETURN, AND BETAKING HIMSELF, AT THE INSTANCE OF
HIS KINSFOLK, TO CHIASSI, HE THERE SEETH A HORSEMAN GIVE
CHASE TO A DAMSEL AND SLAY HER AND CAUSE HER BE DEVOURED OF
TWO DOGS. THEREWITHAL HE BIDDETH HIS KINSFOLK AND THE LADY
WHOM HE LOVETH TO A DINNER, WHERE HIS MISTRESS SEETH THE
SAME DAMSEL TORN IN PIECES AND FEARING A LIKE FATE, TAKETH
NASTAGIO TO HUSBAND
No sooner was Lauretta silent than Filomena, by the queen's
commandment, began thus: "Lovesome ladies, even as pity is in us
commended, so also is cruelty rigorously avenged by Divine justice;
the which that I may prove to you and so engage you altogether to
purge yourselves therefrom, it pleaseth me tell you a story no less
pitiful than delectable.
In Ravenna, a very ancient city of Romagna, there were aforetime many
noblemen and gentlemen, and amongst the rest a young man called
Nastagio degli Onesti, who had, by the death of his father and an