{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_75257/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_75257","id":"gutenberg_75257","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/75257","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Classics of Literature","Category: History - Early Modern (c. 1450-1750)","Category: Literature - Other","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Fairy tales -- Italy","Tales -- Italy"],"text":"STRAPAROLA.\n\n                               VOLUME I.\n\n\n\n\n        _Two hundred and ten copies printed on Japanese Vellum._\n\n                                _No._ 95\n\n[Illustration: The Siren]\n\n\n\n\n                               THE NIGHTS\n                                   OF\n                               STRAPAROLA\n\n\n                  NOW FIRST TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH BY\n\n                              W. G. WATERS\n\n                 ILLUSTRATED BY E. R. HUGHES, A.R.W.S.\n\n                                VOLUME I\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n                      LONDON: LAWRENCE AND BULLEN\n\n                  16, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN\n\n                               MDCCCXCIV\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                               Contents.\n\n\n                                                                    PAGE\n\n LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS                                                ix\n\n INTRODUCTION                                                         xi\n\n PROEM                                                                 1\n\n\n NIGHT THE FIRST                                                       9\n\n     THE FIRST FABLE. Salardo, son of Rainaldo Scaglia, quits Genoa\n       and goes to Montferrat, where he disobeys certain\n       injunctions laid upon him by his father\u2019s testament, and is\n       condemned to death therefor; but, being delivered, he\n       returns to his own country                                     11\n\n     THE SECOND FABLE. Cassandrino, a noted robber, and a friend of\n       the pr\u00e6tor of Perugia, steals the pr\u00e6tor\u2019s bed and his horse\n       Liardo, but afterwards becomes a man of probity and good\n       repute                                                         20\n\n     THE THIRD FABLE. Pre Scarpafico, having been once duped by\n       three robbers, dupes them thrice in return, and lives\n       happily the rest of his days                                   28\n\n     THE FOURTH FABLE. Tebaldo, Prince of Salerno, wishes to have\n       his only daughter Doralice to wife, but she, through her\n       father\u2019s persecution, flees to England, where she marries\n       Genese the king, and has by him two children. These, having\n       been slain by Tebaldo, are avenged by their father King\n       Genese                                                         35\n\n     THE FIFTH FABLE. Dimitrio the chapman, having disguised\n       himself as a certain Gramottiveggio, surprises his wife\n       Polissena with a priest, and sends her back to her brothers,\n       who put her to death, and Dimitrio afterwards marries his\n       serving-woman                                                  44\n\n\n NIGHT THE SECOND                                                     55\n\n     THE FIRST FABLE. Galeotto, King of Anglia, has a son who is\n       born in the shape of a pig. This son marries three wives,\n       and in the end, having thrown off his semblance, becomes a\n       handsome youth                                                 58\n\n     THE SECOND FABLE. Filenio Sisterno, a student of Bologna,\n       having been tricked by certain ladies, takes his revenge\n       upon them at a feast to which he has bidden them               66\n\n     THE THIRD FABLE. Carlo da Rimini vainly pursues Theodosia with\n       his love, she having resolved to live a virgin. In striving\n       to embrace her he meets with divers misadventures, and is\n       well beaten by his own servants to boot                        77\n\n     THE FOURTH FABLE. The devil, having heard divers husbands\n       railing over the humours of their wives, makes trial of\n       matrimony by espousing Silvia Balastro, and, not being able\n       to endure his wife for long, enters into the body of the\n       Duke of Malphi                                                 83\n\n     THE FIFTH FABLE. Messer Simplicio di Rossi is enamoured of\n       Giliola, the wife of Ghirotto Scanferla, a peasant, and\n       having been caught in her company is ill-handled by her\n       husband therefor                                               91\n\n\n NIGHT THE THIRD                                                      99\n\n     THE FIRST FABLE. A simple fellow, named Peter, gets back his\n       wits by the help of a tunny fish which he spared after\n       having taken it in his net, and likewise wins for his wife a\n       king\u2019s daughter                                               102\n\n     THE SECOND FABLE. Dalfreno, King of Tunis, had two sons, one\n       called Listico and the other Livoretto. The latter\n       afterwards was known as Porcarollo, and in the end won for\n       his wife Bellisandra, the daughter of Attarante, King of\n       Damascus                                                      110\n\n     THE THIRD FABLE. Biancabella, the daughter of Lamberico,\n       Marquis of Monferrato, is sent away by the stepmother of\n       Ferrandino, King of Naples, in order that she may be put to\n       death; but the assassins only cut off her hands and put out\n       her eyes. Afterwards, her hurts having been healed by a\n       snake, she returns happily to Ferrandino                      125\n\n     THE FOURTH FABLE. Fortunio, on account of an injury done to\n       him by his supposed father and mother, leaves them, and\n       after much wandering, comes to a wood, where he finds three\n       animals, who do him good service. Afterwards he goes to\n       Polonia, where he gets to wife Doralice, the king\u2019s\n       daughter, as a reward for his prowess                         140\n\n     THE FIFTH FABLE. Isotta, the wife of Lucaferro Albani of\n       Bergamo, devises how she may trick Travaglino the cowherd of\n       her brother Emilliano and thereby show him to be a liar, but\n       she loses her husband\u2019s farm and returns home worsted in her\n       attempt, and bringing with her a bull\u2019s head with gilded\n       horns                                                         152\n\n\n NIGHT THE FOURTH                                                    163\n\n     THE FIRST FABLE. Ricardo, King of Thebes, had four daughters,\n       one of whom, having become a wanderer and altered her name\n       of Costanza to Costanzo, arrived at the court of Cacco, King\n       of Bettinia, who took her to wife on account of the many\n       worthy deeds wrought by her                                   167\n\n     THE SECOND FABLE. Erminione Glaucio, an Athenian, takes to\n       wife Filenia Centurione, and, having become jealous of her,\n       accuses her before the tribunal, but by the help of\n       Hippolito, her lover, she is acquitted and Erminione\n       punished                                                      179\n\n     THE THIRD FABLE. Ancilotto, King of Provino, takes to wife the\n       daughter of a baker, and has by her three children. These,\n       after much persecution at the hands of the king\u2019s mother,\n       are made known to their father through the strange working\n       of certain water, and of an apple, and of a bird              186\n\n     THE FOURTH FABLE. Nerino, the son of Gallese, King of\n       Portugal, becoming enamoured of Genobbia, wife of Messer\n       Raimondo Brunello, a physician, has his will of her and\n       carries her with him to Portugal, while Messer Raimondo dies\n       of grief                                                      199\n\n     THE FIFTH FABLE. Flamminio Veraldo sets out from Ostia in\n       search of Death, and, not finding it, meets Life instead;\n       this latter lets him see Fear and make trial of Death         208\n\n\n NIGHT THE FIFTH                                                     217\n\n     THE FIRST FABLE. Guerrino, only son of Filippomaria, King of\n       Sicily, sets free from his father\u2019s prison a certain savage\n       man. His mother, through fear of the king, drives her son\n       into exile, and him the savage man, now humanized, delivers\n       from many and measureless ills                                221\n\n     THE SECOND FABLE. Adamantina, the daughter of Bagolana\n       Savonese, by the working of a certain doll becomes the wife\n       of Drusiano, King of Bohemia                                  236\n\n     THE THIRD FABLE. Bertholdo of Valsabbia has three sons, all of\n       them hunchbacks and much alike in seeming. One of them,\n       called Zambo, goes out into the world to seek his fortune,\n       and arrives at Rome, where he is killed and thrown into the\n       Tiber, together with his two brothers                         245\n\n     THE FOURTH FABLE. Marsilio Vercelese, being enamoured of Thia,\n       the wife of Cechato Rabboso, is taken by her into her house\n       during her husband\u2019s absence. He having come back\n       unexpected, is cozened by Thia, who feigns to work a spell,\n       during which Marsilio silently takes to flight                259\n\n     THE FIFTH FABLE. Madonna Modesta, wife of Messer Tristano\n       Zanchetto, in her young days gathers together a great number\n       of shoes, offerings made by her various lovers. Having grown\n       old, she disposes of the same to divers servants, varlets,\n       and other folk of mean estate                                 269\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                        ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. I.\n\n\n                                                                _To face\n                                                                   page_\n\n FRONTISPIECE. (THIRD NIGHT, FOURTH FABLE. THE SIREN.)\n\n PROEM. THE PALACE AT MURANO                                           1\n\n FIRST NIGHT, FOURTH FABLE. DORALICE IN THE KING\u2019S CHAMBER            39\n\n SECOND NIGHT, FIRST FABLE. THE PIG PRINCE                            63\n\n SECOND NIGHT, SECOND FABLE. THE SCHOLAR\u2019S VENGEANCE                  72\n\n THIRD NIGHT, THIRD FABLE. BIANCABELLA AND THE SERPENT               128\n\n THIRD NIGHT, FIFTH FABLE. ISOTTA AND TRAVAGLINO                     156\n\n FOURTH NIGHT, SECOND FABLE. THE TRIAL OF THE SERPENT                184\n\n FIFTH NIGHT, FIRST FABLE. GOLDEN HAIR                               234\n\n FIFTH NIGHT, FOURTH FABLE. THE CONJURATION OF THE KITE              266\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                             Introduction.\n\n\nThe name of Giovanni Francesco Straparola has been handed down to later\nages as the author of the \u201cPiacevoli Notti,\u201d and on no other account,\nfor the reason that he is one of those fortunate men of letters\nconcerning whom next to nothing is known. He writes himself down as \u201cda\nCaravaggio;\u201d so it may be reasonably assumed that he first saw the light\nin that town, but no investigator has yet succeeded in indicating the\nyear of his birth, or in bringing to light any circumstances of his\nlife, other than certain facts connected with the authorship and\npublication of his works. The ground has been closely searched more than\nonce, and in every case the seekers have come back compelled to admit\nthat they have no story to tell or new fact to add to the scanty stock\nwhich has been already garnered. Straparola as a personage still remains\nthe shadow he was when La Monnoie summed up the little that was known\nabout him in the preface to the edition, published in 1725, of the\nFrench translation of the \u201cNotti.\u201d\n\nHe was doubtless baptized by the Christian names given above, but it is\nscarcely probable that Straparola can ever have been the surname or\nstyle of any family in Caravaggio or elsewhere. More likely than not it\nis an instance of the Italian predilection for nicknaming\u2014a coined word\ndesigned to exhibit and perhaps to hold up to ridicule his undue\nloquacity; just as the familiar names of Masaccio, and Ghirlandaio, and\nGuercino, were tacked on to their illustrious wearers on account of some\npersonal peculiarity or former calling. Caravaggio is a small town lying\nnear to Crema, and about half way between Cremona and Bergamo. It\nenjoyed in the Middle Ages some fame as a place of pilgrimage on account\nof a spring of healing water which gushed forth on a certain occasion\nwhen the Virgin Mary manifested herself. Polidoro Caldara and Michael\nAngelo Caravaggio were amongst its famous men, and of these it keeps the\nmemory, but Straparola is entirely forgotten. Fontanini, in the\n\u201cBiblioteca dell\u2019 eloquenza Italiana,\u201d does not name him at all.\nQuadrio, \u201cStoria e ragione d\u2019ogni poesia,\u201d mentions him as the author of\nthe \u201cPiacevoli Notti,\u201d and remarks on his borrowings from Morlini.\nTiraboschi, in the index to the \u201cStoria della letteratura Italiana,\u201d\ndoes not even give his name, and Crescimbeni[1] concerns himself only\nwith the enigmas which are to be found at the end of the fables. It is\nindeed a strange freak of chance that such complete oblivion should have\nfallen over the individuality of a writer so widely read and\nappreciated.\n\nThe first edition of the first part of the \u201cPiacevoli Notti\u201d was\npublished at Venice in 1550, and of the second part in 1553. It would\nappear that the author must have been alive in 1557, because, at the end\nof the second part of the edition of that year,[2] there is a paragraph\nsetting forth the fact that the work was printed and issued \u201cad instanza\ndell\u2019 autore.\u201d Some time before 1553 he seems to have been stung sharply\non account of some charges of plagiarism which were brought against him\nby certain detractors, for in all the unmutilated editions of the\n\u201cNotti\u201d published after that date there is to be found a short\nintroduction to the second part, in which he somewhat acrimoniously\nthrows back these accusations, and calls upon all \u201cgratiose et amorevole\ndonne\u201d to accept his explanations thereof, admitting at the same time\nthat these stories are not his own, but a faithful transcript of what he\nheard told by the ten damsels in their pleasant assembly. La Monnoie, in\nhis preface to the French translation (ed. 1726), maintains that this\njuggling with words can only be held to be an excuse on his part for\nhaving borrowed the subject-matter for his fables and worked it into\nshape after his own taste. \u201cIl declare qu\u2019il ne se les est jamais\nattribu\u00e9es, et se contente du m\u00e9rite de les avoir fid\u00e8lement rapport\u00e9es\nd\u2019apr\u00e8s les dix damoiselles. Cela, comme tout bon entendeur le comprend,\nne signifie autre chose sinon qu\u2019il avoit tir\u00e9 d\u2019ailleurs la mati\u00e8re de\nces Fables, mais qu\u2019il leur avoit donn\u00e9 la forme.\u201d\n\nThis contention of La Monnoie seems reasonable enough, but Grimm, in the\nnotes to \u201cKinder und Hausm\u00e4rchen,\u201d has fallen into the strange error of\ntreating Straparola\u2019s apology as something grave and seriously meant,\nand in the same sentence improves on his mistake by asserting that\nStraparola took all the fairy tales from the mouths of the ten ladies.\n\u201cVon jenem Schmutz sind die M\u00e4rchen[3] ziemlich frei, wie sie ohnehin\nden besten Theil des ganzen Werkes ausmachen. Straparola hat sie, wie es\nin der Vorrede zum zweiten Bande (vor der sechsten Nacht) heisst, aus\ndem Munde zehn junger Fr\u00e4ulein aufgenommen und ausdr\u00fccklich erkl\u00e4rt,\ndass sie nicht sein Eigenthum seien.\u201d\n\nThe most reasonable explanation of this mistake lies in the assumption\nthat Grimm never saw the introduction to the second part at all. Indeed,\nthe fact that he often uses French spelling of the proper names suggests\nthat he may have worked from the French translation. Straparola makes no\ndistinction between fairy tales and others. His words are, \u201cche le\npiacevoli favole da me scritte, et in questo, et nell\u2019 altro volumetto\nraccolte non siano mie, ma da questo, et quello ladronescamente rubbate.\nIo a dir il vero, il confesso, che non sono mie, e se altrimente\ndicessi, me ne mentirei, ma ben holle fedelmente scritte secondo il modo\nche furono da dieci damigelle nel concistorio raccontate.\u201d\n\nBesides the \u201cNotti\u201d only one other work of Straparola\u2019s is known to\nexist\u2014a collection of sonnets and other poems published at Venice in\n1508, and (according to a citation of Zanetti in the \u201cNovelliero\nItaliano,\u201d t. iii., p. xv, Ven. 1754, Bindoni) in 1515 as well.[4] A\ncomparison of these dates will serve to show that, as he had already\nbrought out a volume in the first decade of the century, the \u201cPiacevoli\nNotti\u201d must have been the work of his maturity or even of his old age.\nWith this fact the brief catalogue of the known circumstances of his\nlife comes to an end.\n\nJudging from the rapidity with which the successive editions of the\n\u201cNotti\u201d were brought forth from the press after the first issue\u2014sixteen\nappeared in the twenty years between 1550 and 1570\u2014we may with reason\nassume that it soon took hold of the public favour.[5] Its fame spread\nearly into France, where in 1560 an edition of the first part,\ntranslated into French by Jean Louveau, appeared at Lyons, to be\nfollowed some thirteen years later by a translation of the second part\nby Pierre de la Rivey, who thus completed the book. He likewise revised\nand re-wrote certain portions of Louveau\u2019s translation, and in 1725 an\nedition was produced at Amsterdam, enriched by a preface by La Monnoie,\nand notes by Lainez. There are evidences that a German translation of\nthe \u201cNotti\u201d was in existence at the beginning of the seventeenth\ncentury, for in the introduction to Fischart\u2019s \u201cGargantua\u201d (1608) there\nis an allusion to the tales of Straparola, brought in by way of an\napology for the appearance of the work, the writer maintaining that, if\nthe ears of the ladies are not offended by Boccaccio, Straparola, and\nother writers of a similar character, there is no reason why they should\nbe offended by Rabelais. The author of the introduction to a fresh\nedition of the same work (1775) remarks that he knows the tales of\nStraparola from a later edition published in 1699. Of this translation\nno copy is known to exist.\n\nIn the \u201cPalace of Pleasure\u201d Painter has given only one of the fables,\nthe second Fable[6] of the second Night; and in Roscoe\u2019s \u201cItalian\nNovelists\u201d another one appears, the fourth Fable of the tenth Night. At\nthe end of the last century the first Fable of the first Night was\nprinted separately in London under the title, \u201cNovella cioe copia d\u2019un\nCaso notabile intervenuto a un gran gentiluomo Genovese.\u201d[7] A\ntranslation of twenty-four of the fables, prefaced by a lengthy and\nverbose disquisition on the author, reputed to be from the pen of\nMazzuchelli, appeared at Vienna in 1791;[8] but Brackelmann, in his\n\u201cInaugural Dissertation\u201d (Gottingen, 1867), has an examination of the\nintroduction above named, which goes far to prove that Mazzuchelli had\nlittle or nothing to do with it. In 1817 Dr. F. W. V. Schmidt published\nat Berlin a translation into German of eighteen fables selected from the\n\u201cNotti,\u201d to which he gave the title \u201cDie M\u00e4rchen des Straparola.\u201d To his\nwork Dr. Schmidt affixed copious notes, compiled with the greatest care\nand learning, thus opening to his successors a rich and valuable\nstorehouse both of suggestion and of accumulated facts. It is almost\ncertain that he must have worked from one of the many mutilated or\nexpurgated editions of the book, for in the complete work there are\nseveral stories unnoticed by him which he would assuredly have included\nin his volume had he been aware of their existence.\n\nOne of the chief claims of the \u201cNotti\u201d on the consideration of later\ntimes lies in the fact that Straparola was the first writer who gathered\ntogether into one collection the stray fairy tales, for the most part\nbrought from the East, which had been made known in the Italian\ncities\u2014and in Venice more especially\u2014by the mouth of the itinerant\nstory-teller. These tales, incorporated in the \u201cNotti\u201d with others of a\nwidely different character, were without doubt the principal source of\nthe numerous French \u201cContes des F\u00e9es\u201d published in the seventeenth and\neighteenth centuries. Perrault, Madame D\u2019Aulnoy, and Gueulette took from\nthem many of their best fables; and these, having spread in various\nforms through Northern and Western Europe, helped to tinge with a hue of\nOrientalism the popular tales of all countries\u2014tales which had hitherto\nbeen largely the evolution of local myths and traditions.\n\nFour of Straparola\u2019s fables are slightly altered versions of four of the\nstories in the \u201cThousand and One Nights,\u201d[9] which, as it will scarcely\nbe necessary to remark, were not translated into any European language\ntill Galland brought out his work at the beginning of the eighteenth\ncentury. One of these, the third Fable of the fourth Night, is\nsubstantially the same as the story of the Princess Parizade and her\nenvious sisters, given in Galland\u2019s translation. To account for this\nclose resemblance we may either assume that Galland may have looked at\nStraparola\u2019s fable, or that Straparola may have listened to it from the\nmouth of some wandering oriental or of some Venetian traveller recently\ncome back from the East\u2014the tale, as he heard it, having been faithfully\ntaken from the same written page which Galland afterwards translated.\nAnother one, the story of the Three Hunchbacks\u2014the third Fable of the\nfifth Night\u2014has less likeness to the original, and has been imitated by\nGueulette in his \u201cContes Tartares.\u201d The treatment of the story of the\nPrincess Parizade by Straparola furnishes an illustration to prove that,\nbad as his style was, he was by no means deficient in literary skill and\ntaste. He brings into due prominence the wicked midwife, who is\n_particeps criminis_ with the queen-mother and the sisters in the\nattempted murder of the children, and who has on this account full and\nvalid motive for acting as she did, seeing that interest and\nself-preservation as well would have prompted her to compass their\ndestruction. On the other hand, in the Arabian tale it is hard to\nunderstand why the female fakir should have been led to persuade the\nprincess to send her brothers off on their quest. Again, in the fable of\nPrince Guerrino[10] Straparola has displayed great ingenuity in weaving\ntogether a good story out of some half dozen of the widely-known fairy\nmotives, any one of which might well have been fashioned into a story by\nitself.\n\nAfter reading the \u201cNotti\u201d through one can hardly fail to be struck by\nthe amazing variety of the themes therein handled. Besides the fairy\ntales\u2014many of them classic\u2014to which allusion has already been made,\nthere is the world-famous story of Puss in Boots, an original product of\nStraparola\u2019s brain. There are others which may rather be classed as\nromances of chivalry, in the elaboration of which a generous amount of\nmagic and mystery is employed. The residue is made up of stories of\nintrigue and buffo tales of popular Italian life, some of which\u2014not a\nlarge number, when one takes into consideration the contemporary\nstandard of decency in such matters\u2014are certainly unpleasant in subject\nand coarse in treatment, but with regard to the majority of these one is\ndisposed to be lenient, inasmuch as the fun, though somewhat indelicate,\nis real fun. When the duped husband, a figure almost as inevitable in\nthe Italian Novella as in the modern French novel, is brought forward,\nhe is not always exhibited as the contemptible creature who seems to\nhave sat for the part in the stories of the better known writers.\nIndeed, it sometimes happens that he turns the tables on his betrayers;\nand, although Straparola is laudably free from the vice of preaching, he\nnow and then indulges in a brief homily by way of pointing out the fact\nthat violators of the Decalogue generally come to a bad end, and that\nhis own sympathies are all on the side of good manners. It is true that\none misses in the \u201cNotti\u201d those delicious invocations of Boccaccio,\ncommonly to be found at the end of the more piquant stories, in which he\npiously calls on Heaven to grant to himself and to all Christian men\n_bonnes fortunes_ equal to those which he has just chronicled.\n\nThe scheme of the \u201cNotti\u201d resembles in character that of the Decameron,\nof Le Cene, and of other collections of a similar kind. In the Proem to\nthe work it is set forth how Ottaviano Maria Sforza, the bishop-elect of\nLodi\u2014the same probably who died in 1540, after a life full of\nvicissitude\u2014together with his daughter Lucretia, is compelled by the\nstress of political events to quit Milan. The Signora Lucretia is\ndescribed as the wife of Giovanni Francesco Gonzaga, cousin of Federico,\nMarquis of Mantua, but as no mention of this prince is made it may be\nassumed that she was already a widow. Seeing that her husband died in\n1523, an approximate date may be fixed for the \u201cPiacevoli Notti,\u201d but\nhistorical accuracy in cases of this sort is not to be expected or\ndesired. After divers wanderings the bishop-elect and his daughter find\na pleasant refuge on the island of Murano, where they gather around them\na company of congenial spirits, consisting of a group of lovely and\naccomplished damsels, and divers cavaliers of note. Chief amongst the\nlatter is the learned Pietro Bembo, the renowned humanist and the most\ndistinguished man of letters Venice ever produced. With him came his\nfriend Gregorio Casali, who is described as \u201cCasal Bolognese, a bishop,\nand likewise ambassador of the King of England.\u201d Both Gregorio Casali\nand his brother Battista were entrusted by Henry VIII. with the conduct\nof affairs of state pending between him and the Pope, and the former\ncertainly visited England more than once. The king showed him many signs\nof favour during his stay, and when in 1527 Casali found himself shut up\nin Rome by the beleaguering army of the Constable of Bourbon, he was\nallowed free exit on the ground of his ambassadorial rank. Bernardo\nCappello, another friend of Bembo, is also of the company, and a certain\nAntonio Molino, a poet of repute, who subsequently tells a fable in the\ndialect of Bergamo\u2014a feat which leads to a similar display of local\nknowledge on the part of Signor Benedetto Trivigiano, who discourses in\nTrevisan. It may be remarked, however, that by far the greater number of\nthe fables are told by the ladies.\n\nBut the joyous company assembled in the palace at Murano find divers\nother forms of recreation beside story-telling. They dance and they sing\nballads, which are for the most part in praise of the gracious Signora\nLucretia, but the chief byplay of the entertainment consists in the\nsetting and solving of riddles. As soon as a fable is brought to an end\nthe narrator is always called upon by the Signora to complete the task\nby propounding an enigma. This is then duly set forth in puzzling\nverses, put together as a rule in terms obscure enough to baffle\nsolution, often entirely senseless, and now and again of a character\nindecent enough to call down upon the propounder the Signora\u2019s rebuke on\naccount of the seeming impropriety of the subject. In fact, a certain\nnumber of these enigmas are broad examples of the _double entendre_. The\nfirst reading of them makes one wonder how such matter could ever have\nbeen put in print, and agree fully with the anger of the Signora, but\nwhen the graceful and modest damsel, who may have been the author,\nproceeds to give the true explanation of her riddle she never fails to\ndemonstrate clearly to the gentle company that her enigma, from\nbeginning to end, is entirely free from all that is unseemly. In \u201cFrench\nand English\u201d Mr. Philip Gilbert Hamerton tells a story illustrating the\nlate survival of this sort of witticism in France. In the early days of\nLouis Philippe, on one occasion when the court was at Eu, the mayor of\nthe town and certain other local notables were bidden to _d\u00e9jeuner_ at\nthe chateau, and after the banquet the mayor, in accordance with an old\nFrench fashion, asked leave to sing a song of his own making. This\ncomposition had two meanings, one lying on the surface and perfectly\ninnocent, and the other, slightly veiled, which, though not immoral, was\nprodigiously indecent. When the true nature of the song was realized,\nthere was for a second or two silence and confusion amongst the company,\nbut at last, by good luck, someone laughed. The dangerous point was\nsafely rounded, and the mayor brought his song to an end amidst loud\napplause.\n\nWhen he published his translation into French of the second part of the\n\u201cNotti,\u201d Pierre de la Rivey made alterations in almost all the enigmas\ntherein contained, and re-wrote many of those which had already been\ntranslated by Louveau, but in neither case did his work tend to make\nthem more decent. In reading over the enigmas as Straparola left them\none often feels that the line of reticence, recognized by contemporary\ndecorum, has been crossed, otherwise there would be no need for the\nladies to hide their faces, or for the Signora to visit the culprit for\nthe time being with her well-deserved rebuke. But Straparola\u2019s untouched\nwork is almost decent compared with De la Rivey\u2019s emendations.\n\nIn spite of the blots above designated, there will be found in the\n\u201cNotti\u201d a smaller proportion of stories calculated to outrage modern\ncanons of taste than in any of the better known collections of Italian\n_novelle_. The judgments which have been dealt out to Straparola on the\nscore of indecency by Landau (\u201cBeitr\u00e4ge,\u201d p. 130), by the writer of the\narticle in the \u201cBiographie Universelle,\u201d and by Grimm in his notes to\n\u201cKinder und Hausm\u00e4rchen,\u201d seem to be unduly severe. In certain places he\nis no doubt brutally coarse, but the number of fables defaced in this\nmanner is not large. If one were to take the trouble to compare the\nrendering given by Basile in the \u201cPentamerone,\u201d of stories told also by\nStraparola, with the rendering of the same in the \u201cNotti,\u201d the award for\npropriety of language would assuredly not always be given to the\nNeapolitan, who, it should be remembered, was writing a book for young\nchildren. In few of the collections of a similar character is there to\nbe found so genuine a vein of comedy, and for the sake of this one may\nperhaps be permitted to beg indulgence for occasional lapses\u2014lapses\nwhich are assuredly fewer in number and probably not more heinous in\ncharacter than those of novelists of greater fame. Straparola turns\nnaturally towards the cheerful side of things, the lives of the men and\nwomen he deals with seem to be less oppressed with the _t\u00e6dium vit\u00e6_\nthan are the creatures of the Florentine and Sienese and Neapolitan\nnovel-writers, and the reason of this is not far to seek. Life in\nVenice, when once the political constitution was firmly and finally\nfixed on an oligarchic basis, was more stable, more secure, more\nluxurious than in any of the other ruling cities of Italy. Social and\npolitical convulsion of the sort which vexed the neighbouring states was\nalmost unknown, and, though the forces of the Republic might\noccasionally suffer defeat and disaster in distant seas and in the\nLevant, life went on peacefully and pleasantly within the shelter of the\nLagunes. The religious conscience of the people was easy-going,\northodox, and laudably inclined to listen to the voice of authority;\nneither disposed to nourish within the hidden canker of heresy, nor to\nlet itself be worked up into ecstatic fever by any sudden conviction of\nungodliness such as led to the lighting of the Bonfire of Vanities in\nFlorence. In a society thus constituted it was inevitable that life\nshould be easier, more gladsome, and more secure than in Milan, with the\nconstant struggle of Pope against Emperor, and later on under the\nturbulent despotism of the Viscontis and Sforzas; or than in Florence,\nwith its constant civil broils and licentious public life, which not\neven the craft and power of the leaders of the Medici could discipline\ninto public order; or than in Naples, dominated by the Aragonese kings\nand harried by the greedy mercenaries in the royal employ; or than in\nRome itself, vexed continually by intrigue, political and religious, and\nby the tumults generated by the violence and ambition of the ruling\nfamilies.\n\nA reflection of the gracious and placid life the Venetians led will be\napparent to all who may observe and compare the art of Venice with the\nart of Milan, or Florence, or Naples. What a contrast is there between\nthat charming idyll which Titian has made of the marriage of St.\nCatherine,[11] a group full of joy, and beauty, and sunlight, and set in\nthe midst of one of those delightful sub-alpine landscapes which he\npainted with such rare skill and insight, and the many other renderings\nof the same subject by Lombard or Tuscan masters, who, almost\ninvariably, put on the canvas some foreshadowing of the coming tragedy\nin the shape of the boding horror of the toothed wheel! The Madonnas of\nCarpaccio and Bellini are stately ladies, well nourished, and having\nabout them that unmistakable air of distinction which grows up with the\ndaily use and neighbourhood of splendid and luxurious modes of life.\nThere is no doubt a look of gravity and holiness upon their handsome\nfaces, but there is no sign, either in the pose or in the glance of\nthem, that they are conscious of any embarrassment, and it would take a\nvery keen eye to discern a trace of quasi-divinity, or of any trouble\naroused by the caress of the mysterious child, or of the burden of that\n\u201cintolerable honour\u201d which has been thrust upon them unsought\u2014a mood\nwhich latter-day preachers have detected in renderings of the same theme\nconceived and executed in the more emotional atmosphere of the Val\nd\u2019Arno. Take these Venetian Madonnas out of their pictured environment,\nand put on them a gala dress and sumptuous jewels, and one will find a\nbevy of comely dames who might well have kept company with the Signora\nLucretia of the \u201cNotti\u201d in the fair garden at Murano, and listened to\nsome sprightly story from Messer Pietro Bembo or from Messer Antonio\nMolino; or they might have gone out with the youths and damsels of whom\nBrowning sings,\n\n  \u201cDid young people take their pleasure when the sea was warm in May?\n  Balls and masks begun at midnight, burning ever to midday,\n  When they made up fresh adventures for the morrow, do you say?\u201d\n\nIn the pictures he draws Straparola illustrates a life like this, with\nnow and then a touch of pathos, perhaps undesigned, as in the prologue\nto the second Night, where he tells of the laughter of the blithe\ncompany, ringing so loud and so hearty that it seemed to him as if the\nsound of their merriment yet lingered in his ears.[12] There was,\ntherefore, good reason why Straparola\u2019s imaginary exiles from the\nturbulent court of Milan should have sought at Murano, under the\nsheltering wings of St. Mark\u2019s lion, that ease and gaiety which they\nwould have looked for in vain at home; there were also reasons equally\nvalid why he should make the genius of the place inspire with its jocund\nspirit the stories with which the gentle company gathered around the\nSignora Lucretia wiled away the nights of carnival. In the whole of the\nseventy-four fables there are hardly half-a-dozen which can be classed\nas tragic in tone, but of these one\u2014the story of Malgherita\nSpolatina[13]\u2014is the finest of the whole collection. It is rarely one\nmeets with anything told with such force and sincerity; yet, in placing\nbefore his readers this vivid picture of volcanic passion and studied\nruthless revenge, Straparola uses the simplest treatment and succeeds _\u00e0\nmerveille_. The fact that this fable and certain others of more than\naverage merit belong to the category of stories to which no source or\norigin in other writings has been assigned, raises a regret that\nStraparola did not trust more to his own inventive powers and draw less\nfreely upon Ser Giovanni and Morlini. Of these creations of his own the\nstory of Flamminio Veraldo[14] is admirably told and strikingly original\nand dramatic in subject; so is that of Maestro Lattantio,[15] and, for a\ndisplay of savage cynicism and withering rage, it would be hard to find\nanything more powerfully portrayed than the death of Andrigetto.[16]\n\nIn the fables of adventure, and in every other case where such treatment\nis possible, Straparola deals largely with the supernatural. All the\nwestern versions, except Straparola\u2019s, of the story best known to us as\n\u201cGiletta of Narbonne\u201d and as \u201cAll\u2019s Well that Ends Well,\u201d are worked out\nwithout calling in auxiliaries of an unearthly character. Boccaccio and\nShakespeare bring together the husband and the forsaken wife by methods\nwhich, if somewhat strained, are quite natural; but Straparola at once\ncalls for the witch and the magic horse, and whisks Isabella off to\nFlanders forthwith.[17] The interest of the reader is kept alive by\naccounts of the trials and dangers\u2014a trifle bizarre now and again\u2014which\nheroes and heroines are called to undergo, the taste of the age\npreferring apparently this stimulant to the intense dramatic power\nexhibited in the story of Malgherita, and demanding that the ending\nshould be a happy one, for the pair of lovers nearly always marry in the\nend, and live long and blissful years. In the tales of country life and\ncharacter the fun is boisterous and even broad, but it is always real\nfun, and the laugh rings true. Straparola is often as coarse as\nBandello, but, unlike Bandello, he never smirches his pages merely for\nthe sake of setting forth some story of simple brutality, or of leading\nup to a climax which is at the same time painfully shocking and\npurposeless. Il Lasca in \u201cLe Cene\u201d makes as free use of the _beffe_ and\nthe _burle_ as Straparola, but the last-named showed in the \u201cNotti\u201d that\nhe was incomparably the better hand in dealing with his material. Il\nLasca as a rule sets out his subject on the lines of the broadest farce,\nbut he cannot keep to genuine farce, his natural bent of mind leading\nhim always to elaborate his theme in some unseemly and offensive\nfashion. Very often he is obscene and savage at the same time, and the\nabominable practical jokes he makes his characters play the one on the\nother must surely have outraged even the coarse feeding taste of the age\nin which he wrote. He delights in working up long stories of lust, and\nof infidelity, and of vengeance worked on account of these, in a spirit\nof heartless cruelty which, more often than not, is horrible without\nbeing in the least impressive, for the reason that, fine stylist as he\nwas, he lacked the touch of the artist. Masuccio, though his savage\nindignation against the vices of the priests and monks occasionally\nbecame mere brutality, sounded now and then the note of real tragedy,\nand, inferior as he was to Il Lasca in style, was by far the better\nstory-teller of the two. Both of these would be commonly set down as\nabler writers than Straparola, yet, by some means or other, the latter\ncould put a touch upon his work which was beyond the power of the\nothers\u2014something which enables one to read the \u201cNotti\u201d without being\nconscious of that unpleasant aftertaste which one almost always feels on\nlaying down either \u201cLe Cene\u201d or \u201cIl Novellino.\u201d\n\nNo other of the Italian novelists used a style as bad as Straparola\u2019s.\nErrors in grammar abound, and his bald meagre periods often fail to\nexpress adequately the sense of the idea he manifestly wishes to\nportray. His faulty prose did not escape the censure of his\ncontemporaries, for Messer Orfeo dalla Carta, in his introduction to the\nfirst part of the \u201cNotti\u201d (edition 1554), makes allusion to it, begging\nthe reader at the same time not to be repelled by what he calls \u201cil\nbasso et rimesso stilo dello autore;\u201d and La Monnoie, in the preface to\nthe French translation (edition 1726) writes in a similar strain. Dalla\nCarta, probably by way of banter, advances an apology for Straparola\u2019s\nslovenly work in terms taken from that introduction to the second part\nwhich has already been cited, explaining that the author did not write\nhis fables as he would have done, but as they had been told to him by\nthe ten damsels who were the narrators.\n\nStraparola\u2019s Italian is much more like the Italian of the present day\nthan the English of Sidney or the German of Hans Sachs is like modern\nEnglish or German, but this is not remarkable, considering how much\nearlier prose writing as an art came to perfection in Italy than in the\nrest of Europe. The impression gained by reading his prose is that he\ncared vastly more for subject than for treatment. He laid hold of\nwhatever themes promised to suit his purpose best as a story-teller,\ncareless as to whether other craftsmen had used them before or not, and\nthese he set forth in the simplest manner possible, taking little heed\nof his style or even of his grammar. He hardly ever indulges in a\nmetaphor. One never feels that he has gone searching about fastidiously\nfor some particular turn of phrase or neatly-fitting adjective; on the\nother hand, one is often obliged to pause in the middle of some long\nsentence and search for his meaning in the strange mixture of phrases\nstrung together. Perhaps this spontaneity, this absence of studied\ndesign, may have helped to win for him the wide popularity he enjoyed.\nHis aim was to lead his readers into some enchanted garden of fairyland;\nto thrill them with the woes and perils of his heroes and heroines; to\nshake their sides with laughter over the misadventures of some too\namorous monk or lovesick cavalier, rather than to send them into ecstasy\nover the measured elegance of his phrases. In many of the later editions\nof the \u201cNotti,\u201d the meaning has been further obscured, and the style\nrendered more rugged than ever, owing to the frequent and clumsy\nexcisions made by the censors of morals. The early exclusion of the\nfourth Fable of the ninth Night shows that the eye of authority was soon\nattracted towards the popular novelist of the age. The motive for this\nactivity was nominally the care of public morals, and one of the few\nextant references to Straparola is with regard to the expurgation of his\nworks. In \u201cCremona Illustrata,\u201d by Franciscus Arisius (Cremona, 1741),\nwe read concerning Caravaggio: \u201cIn hoc enim oppido inclyt\u00e6 stirpis\nSfortiadum antiquo feudo ortum habuit Io. Franciscus Straparola cujus\nliber s\u00e6pe editus circumfertur italice hoc programmate: \u2018Le tredici\npiacevolissime notti overo favole ed enimmi.\u2019 Liber vetitus a sacra\nindicis congregatione et jure quidem merito cum obscenitates sordidas\ncontineat moribus plerumque obnoxias et pluribi vulgatas. Optime quippe\nanimadvertit Possevinus S. J. de cultura ingeniorum cap. 52, quod\nexpediens esset homines potius nasci mutos et rationis expertes, quam in\npropriam et aliorum perniciam divin\u00e6 providenti\u00e6 dona convertere, imo\nante eum ejusdem sententi\u00e6 fuisse M. F. Quintilianum licet gentilem,\nipse Possevinus confirmat.\u201d\n\nOn reading even the most severely castrated edition of the \u201cNotti,\u201d one\nmay be at first a little surprised to find that some of the most\nindecent stories (in spite of the care of public morals) have been left\nalmost untouched, and it is not until one realizes the fact that\nexpurgation has been held to mean the cutting out of every word\nconcerning religion and its professors, that one fully understands the\nprinciple upon which \u201cPossevinus S. J.\u201d and his colleagues worked. The\npresence of matter injurious to public morals had evidently less to do\nwith the action of these reformers than certain anecdotes describing the\npresence of priests and nuns in certain places where, by every rule of\ngood manners, they ought not to have been found. In plain words, the\nbook was prohibited and castrated on account of the ugly picture of\nclerical morals which was exhibited in its pages.[18] A glance at any of\nthe editions issued \u201ccon licenza de\u2019 superiori\u201d will show that the\nrevisers went to their work with set purpose, caring nought as to the\nmangled mass of letterpress they might leave behind them. In some fables\nbits are cut out so clumsily that the point of the story is entirely\nlost; in others the feelings of orthodoxy are spared by changing the\nhero of amorous intrigue from a _Prete_ to a _Giovene_. In one a pope is\nreduced to a mere initial (of course standing for a layman), and the\nfamous story of Belphegor is left out altogether. It was surely little\nshort of impertinent to ask for a condemnation of the \u201cNotti\u201d on the\nground of offence to public decency from a generation which read such\nbooks as \u201cLes fac\u00e9tieuses journ\u00e9es\u201d of Chapuys and \u201cLes contes aux\nheures perdues;\u201d which witnessed the issue of Morlini\u2019s novels and of\nCinthio degli Fabritii\u2019s book, \u201cDell\u2019 origine delli volgari proverbii,\u201d\nprinted \u201ccum privilegio summi pontificis et sacr\u00e6 C\u00e6sare\u00e6 majestatis;\u201d a\ngeneration for which Poggio\u2019s obscene fables were favourite reading, and\nwhich remembered that Pietro Bembo had been a cardinal and Giovanni di\nMedici a pope.\n\nIt is impossible to indicate precisely the sources of the fables\nseriatim, seeing that in many cases there was available for Straparola a\nchoice of origins. An approximate reckoning would give fifteen fables to\nthe novelists who preceded him, twenty-two to Morlini, four to medi\u00e6val\nand seven to oriental legends, thus leaving twenty-eight to be classed\nas original. Towards the close of his work it would appear that his\nimagination must have been stricken with sterility, or that he became\nindolent, for of the concluding twenty fables nineteen are mere\ntranslations from Morlini. It is not improbable that such wholesale\nborrowing as this may have been the cause of the charges of plagiary to\nwhich allusion has already been made. From beginning to end he certainly\nmade free use of all the storehouses of materials which were available,\nselecting therefrom whatever subjects pleased him, and working them up\nto the best of his skill. It was unreasonable to censure him on this\nscore, seeing that in what he did he merely followed the fashion of the\nage. If he borrowed from Ser Giovanni, had not Ser Giovanni borrowed\nalso from the \u201cDirectorium\u201d and the \u201cGesta Romanorum\u201d? Folk-lorists have\ndiscovered for us the fact that all the stories the world ever listened\nto may, by proper classification, be shown to be derived from some\nhalf-dozen sources. As the sorting and searching goes on, new facts\nconstantly come to light, the drift of which tends to prove that the\ncharge of plagiarism is now almost meaningless. It is hard to say what\nnew and strange fruits may not be gathered from the wide field now\ncovered by the folk-lorist. Formerly he hunted only in the East; now we\nfind him amongst the Lapps and the Zulus\u2014in Labrador, and in the South\nPacific as well. A still more extended search will very likely find a\nfresh source for those of the fables in the \u201cNotti\u201d which have\nheretofore been classed as the original work of Straparola, and will\ndiscover for us a new and genuine author of \u201cPuss in Boots.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n  =Orfeo dalla Carta to all delightful and lovesome ladies, greeting.=\n\n\nConsidering in my mind, kindly ladies, how many in number and how high\nin excellence are those heaven-born and lofty spirits who, in ancient\nand in modern times as well, have written down those various fables\nwhich, when you read them, give you no small pleasure, I understand\u2014and\nyou in like manner will understand\u2014that they were moved thus to write\nfor no other reason than to give you solace and entertainment. Since I\nopine, or rather since I am certain that this is the case, you,\ndelightful and lovesome ladies as you are, will not be wroth if I, your\ngood servant, shall publish in your name the Fables and the Enigmas of\nthe ingenious Messer Gioanfrancesco Straparola da Caravaggio, set forth\nby him with no less elegance than learning. And even if the substance of\nthese should not furnish for your hearing the same pleasure and delight\nas you are accustomed to find in certain other writers, do not on this\naccount contemn him by thrusting him aside and rejecting him altogether,\nbut rather with joyful faces take him to you as you are accustomed to\ntake the others; because if you, as you read his pages, will bear in\nmind the diversity of events and the subtle wit contained therein, you\nwill at least derive from them no small instruction.\n\nBesides this, you must not remark too narrowly the poor and negligent\nstyle of the author, for the reason that he wrote his fables, not as he\nwished to write them, but as he heard them from the ladies who related\nthem,[19] adding nought thereunto and taking nought therefrom. And if\nyou shall find him in any respect wanting, blame not him, who did his\nwork to the best of his power and knowledge, but blame me who have\npublished it against his wish. Accept, therefore, with gladsome looks\nthis little gift from me your servant; who, if it be shown to him (as he\nhopes it may) that his offering is pleasing to you, will in the future\ndo his best to lay before you other things which may prove to be still\nmore to your pleasure and contentment. Be happy and remember me!\n\n\n  From Venice on the XI. day of January, MDLIIII.\n\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                                =Proem.=\n\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n   =The Fables and Enigmas of Messer Giovanni Francesco Straparola da\n                              Caravaggio.=\n\n\n\n\n                           =Book the First.=\n\n\n                                 PROEM.\n\nIn Milan, the capital of Lombardy, an ancient city abounding in graceful\nladies, adorned with sumptuous palaces, and rich in all those things\nwhich are fitted to so magnificent a town, there resided Ottaviano Maria\nSforza, Bishop-elect of Lodi, to whom by claim of heredity (Francesco\nSforza, Duke of Milan, being dead) the sovereignty of the state\nrightfully belonged. But through the falling in of evil times, through\nbitter hatreds, through bloody battles, and through the never-ending\nvicissitudes of state affairs, he departed thence and betook himself\nsecretly to Lodi with his daughter Lucretia, the wife of Giovanni\nFrancesco Gonzaga, cousin of Federico, Marquis of Mantua, and there they\nabode some months. Long time had not passed before his kinsmen\ndiscovered his whereabouts, and began forthwith to annoy him; so the\nunhappy prince, finding himself still the object of their ill will, took\nwith him what jewels and money he had about him, and withdrew with his\ndaughter, who was already a widow, to Venice, where they found friendly\nreception from Ferier Beltramo, a noble gentleman of most benevolent\nnature, amiable and graceful, who with great courtesy gave them pressing\ninvitation to take up their abode in his own house. But to share the\nhome of another generally begets restraint, so the duke, after mature\ndeliberation, resolved to depart and to find elsewhere a dwelling of his\nown. Wherefore, embarking one day with his daughter in a small vessel,\nhe went to Morano, and having come there his eyes fell upon a\nmarvellously beautiful palace which at that time stood empty. He entered\nit, and having taken note of its lovely position, its lofty halls, its\nsuperb loggias, its pleasant gardens filled with smiling flowers and\nrich in all sorts of fruit and blooming herbs, he found them all highly\nto his taste. Then he mounted the marble staircase and surveyed the\nmagnificent hall, the exquisite chambers, and the balcony built over the\nwater, which commanded a view of the whole place. The princess,\ncaptivated by the charm of the pleasant spot, besought her father so\nstrongly with soft and tender speeches, that he to please her fancy\nhired the palace for their home. Over this she rejoiced greatly, for\nmorning and evening she would go upon the balcony to watch the scaly\nfish which swam about in numerous shoals through the clear salt water,\nand in seeing them dart about now here now there she took the greatest\ndelight. And because she was now forsaken by the ladies who had formerly\nbeen about her court, she chose in their places ten others as beautiful\nas they were good; indeed, time would fail wherein to describe their\nvirtues and their graces. Of these the first was Lodovica, who had\nlovely eyes sparkling like the brightest stars, and everyone who looked\nupon her could not but admire her greatly. The next was Vicenza, of\nexcellent carriage, of fine figure, and of polished manners, whose\nlovely and delicate face shone with refreshing beauty upon all who\nbeheld it. The third was Lionora, who, although by the natural fashion\nof her beauty she seemed somewhat haughty, was withal as kindly and\ncourteous as any lady to be found in all the world. The fourth was\nAlteria, with lovely fair hair, who held her womanly devotion ever at\nthe service of the Signora. The fifth was Lauretta, lovely in person,\nbut somewhat disdainful, whose clear and languishing glances surely\nenslaved any lover who ventured to court them. The sixth was Eritrea,\nwho, though she was small of stature, yielded to none of the others in\nbeauty and grace, seeing that she had two brilliant eyes, sparkling even\nbrighter than the sun\u2019s rays, a small mouth, and a rounded bosom, nor\nwas there to be found in her anything at all which was not worthy of the\nhighest praise. The seventh was Cateruzza, surnamed Brunetta, who, all\ngraceful and amorous as she was, with her sweet and loving words\nentangled not only men in her snares, but could even have made descend\nfrom heaven the mighty Jove himself. The eighth was Arianna, who, though\nyoung in years, was grave and sedate in her seeming, gifted with a\nfluent tongue, and encompassed with divine virtues, worthy of the\nhighest praise, which shone like the stars scattered about the heavens.\nThe ninth was Isabella, a highly-gifted damsel, and one who, on account\nof her wit and skilful fence of tongue, commanded the admiration of the\nwhole company. The last was Fiordiana, a prudent damsel, with a mind\nstored with worthy thoughts, and a hand ever prompt to virtuous deeds\nbeyond any other lady in all the world. These ten charming damsels gave\nservice to their Lady Lucretia both in a bevy and singly. The Signora,\nin addition to these, chose two matrons reverend of aspect, of noble\nblood, of mature age, and of sterling worth, to assist her with their\nwise counsels, the one to stand at her right hand and the other at her\nleft. Of these one was the Signora Chiara, wife of Girolamo Guidiccione,\na gentleman of Ferrara; and the other the Signora Veronica, the widow of\nSanto Orbat, of one of the oldest houses of Crema. To join this gentle\nand honourable company there came many nobles and men of learning,\namongst whom were Casal Bolognese, a bishop, and likewise ambassador of\nthe King of England, and the learned Pietro Bembo, knight of Rhodes and\npreacher to the citizens of Milan, a man of distinguished parts and\nstanding highest in the Signora\u2019s favour. After these came Bernardo\nCapello, counted one of the chief poets of the time, the amiable Antonio\nBembo, Benedetto Trivigiano, a man of jovial easy manners, and Antonio\nMolino, surnamed Burchiella, with his pretty wit, Ferier Beltramo, a\ncourteous gentleman, and many others whom it would be tedious to name in\nturn. It was the custom of these, or at any rate of the greater part of\nthem, to assemble every evening at the palace of the Signora Lucretia,\nand to entertain her with graceful dances, and playful discourse, and\nmusic and song, thus graciously beguiling the fleeting hours. Sometimes,\ntoo, certain problems would be propounded, to which the Signora alone\ncould find solution; but as the days of Carnival drew nigh, days always\nvowed to playfulness and riot, the Signora bade them, under pain of her\ndispleasure, to assemble next evening on purpose to arrange what manner\nof feast they themselves should keep. At the dusk of the next evening\nthey all duly appeared in obedience to her behest, and, having seated\nthemselves according to their rank, the Signora thus addressed them:\n\u201cHonourable gentlemen and you gracious ladies, now that we are come\ntogether according to our wont, it seems well to me that we should order\nthese pleasant and gentle diversions of ours so as to furnish us with\nsome jovial pastime for the days of Carnival which are yet to run. Each\none of you therefore will propose what may seem most acceptable, and the\nform of diversion which proves to be to the taste of the greatest number\nshall\u2014if it be seemly and decorous\u2014be adopted.\u201d\n\nThe ladies, and the gentlemen as well, declared with one voice that\neverything should be left to the Signora\u2019s decision; and she, when she\nperceived their will, turned towards the noble company and said: \u201cSince\nit pleases you that I should settle the order of our entertainment, I,\nfor my part, would counsel that every evening, as long as Carnival\nlasts, we should begin with a dance; then that five ladies should sing\nsome song of their own choosing, and this finished, that these five\nladies, in order to be determined by lot, should tell some story, ending\nwith an enigma which we will solve, if our wit be sufficient therefor.\nAt the end of the story-telling we will disperse to our homes for the\nnight. But if these propositions of mine be not acceptable to you, I\nwill readily bow to any other which may please you, and now I invite you\nto make your wishes known.\u201d\n\nThe project set forth by the Signora won the favour of all; wherefore\nshe commanded a golden vase to be brought forthwith, and into this were\ncast papers bearing the names of five of the damsels present. The first\nto be drawn forth was that of the fair Lauretta, who, bashful as she\nwas, blushed softly as the early hues of dawn. Next came the name of\nAlteria, then Cateruzza, then Eritrea, and then Arianna. The drawing\nover, the Signora caused to be brought in the musical instruments, and\nset on the head of Lauretta a wreath of laurel in token that she should\nmake beginning of their entertainment on the evening following.\n\nIt now pleased the Signora that the company should fall to dancing, and\nalmost before she had signified this wish to Signor Antonio Bembo, that\ngallant gentleman took by the hand Fiordiana, with whom he was somewhat\nenamoured, and the others of the company followed this example\nstraightway, and kept up the measure merrily. Loath to forego such\npleasure, they gave over reluctantly, and bandying many soft speeches,\nthe young men and the damsels withdrew to another apartment, in which\nwere laid out tables with sweetmeats and rare wines, and there they\nspent a pleasant time in jesting one with another. When their merriment\nwas over, they took leave of the Signora, who gracefully dismissed them\nall.\n\nAs soon as the company had come together the next evening in the\nbeautiful palace of the Signora, she signed to the fair Lauretta to\nbegin her singing, and Lauretta without waiting for farther command\nstood up, and, after respectfully saluting the Signora, went up on a\nraised platform, upon which was placed a beautiful chair covered with\ndraperies of rich silk. Then having called her four chosen companions,\nthey sang in tender angelic cadence the following song in praise of the\nSignora:\n\n                               SONG.\n               Lady, by your kindly hand,\n               Which ever waits on love\u2019s behest;\n               By your voice of sweet command,\n               That bids us in your presence rest;\n               You hold in fee your servants\u2019 love,\n               And rank with spirits blest above.\n\n               You quit the city\u2019s din and heat,\n               And let us in your smile rejoice;\n               You call us willing to your feet,\n               To listen to our lady\u2019s voice;\n               Then let us loudly celebrate\n               Your dignity and queenly state.\n\n               And though upon our charmed sight\n               Earth\u2019s fairest visions soft may fall;\n               Your grace, your wit, your beauty bright,\n               Will blur them and outshine them all.\n               To laud another should we seek,\n               Our tongues your praise alone would speak.\n\nWhen the five damsels gave over singing, in token that their song had\ncome to an end, the instruments began to sound, and the graceful\nLauretta, upon whom the lot had fallen to tell the first story of the\nevening, gave the following fable without waiting for further sign from\nthe Signora.\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                           =Night the First.=\n\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                           =Night the First.=\n\n\n                            THE FIRST FABLE.\n\n  =Salardo, son of Rainaldo Scaglia, quits Genoa and goes to Montferrat,\n      where he disobeys certain injunctions laid upon him by his\n      father\u2019s testament, and is condemned to death therefor; but, being\n      delivered, he returns to his own country.=\n\nIn every work, let it be good or bad, which we undertake, or propose to\nundertake, we ought first to consider the issue thereof. Wherefore, as\nwe are now about to make beginning of our sportive and pleasant\nentertainment, I will protest that it would have been vastly more\nagreeable to me, had the lot willed it that some other lady should begin\nthe story-telling; because I do not feel myself in any wise competent\nfor the undertaking; because I am wanting in that fluency of speech\nwhich is so highly necessary in discourse of this kind, seeing that I\nhave had scanter usage in the art of elocution than the charming ladies\nI see around me. But, since it pleases you, and has been decided by lot\nthat I should be the first, I will begin\u2014so as not to cause any\ninconvenience to this worshipful assemblage\u2014my task of story-telling\nwith the best of the faculties granted to me by divine providence. I\nwill moreover leave open for those of my companions who shall come after\nme a wide and spacious field so that they may be able to relate their\nfables in an easier and more graceful style than I have at command.\n\nBlessed, nay most blessed that son must be held to be who obeys his\nfather with all due reverence, forasmuch as he thereby carries out the\ncommands of the Eternal God, and lives long in the land, and prospers in\nall his works. And on the other hand he who is disobedient may be\nreckoned unhappy, nay most unhappy, seeing that all his undertakings\ncome to a wretched and ill-starred end, as you will easily understand\nfrom the fable I am about to relate to you.\n\nYou must know then, gentle ladies, that at Genoa (a very ancient city,\nand as pleasant a one as there is in the world) there lived, not long\nago, a gentleman named Rainaldo Scaglia, a man of great wealth, and\nendowed no less generously with wit and knowledge. He had a son called\nSalardo, whom he loved beyond all his other possessions, and this youth\nhe had caused to be educated in every worthy and liberal art, letting\nhim want nothing which might serve for his training and advancement. It\nhappened that in his old age a heavy sickness came upon Rainaldo, who,\nseeing that his end was near, called for a notary, and made his will,\nwhich gave to Salardo all his goods. Beyond this he begged his son to\nhonour his memory by keeping certain precepts ever in his mind, and\nnever to act counter thereto. The first precept was that, no matter how\ngreat might be the love he had for his wife, he should never trust her\nwith any important secret. The second was that he should never adopt\nanother man\u2019s child as his own, supposing his marriage to be a fruitless\none. The third was that he should never abide in a state, of which the\nchief magistrate wielded powers of life and death unchecked. Having\ngiven to his son these precepts, Rainaldo turned his face to the wall,\nand breathed his last.\n\nAfter his father\u2019s death, Salardo, a young, rich, well-born gallant,\ngrieved but moderately; and, in lieu of troubling about the\nadministration of his estates or taking to heart his father\u2019s precepts,\nwas in hot haste to find a wife, and began to search for one of\nsufficiently good descent, and with a person to his taste. Before his\nfather had been a year dead, he married Theodora, the daughter of Messer\nOdescalco Doria, a Genoese noble of the first rank. She was very\nbeautiful and of virtuous mind, though somewhat haughty, and Salardo was\nso deeply enamoured of her that he could not bear, night or day, to let\nher go out of his sight. For several years they lived together without a\nchild being born to them; and then Salardo, yearning for an heir and\ndisregarding the counsel of his father, determined to adopt a child and\nto bring him up as his heir. Having gained his wife\u2019s consent, he lost\nno time in carrying out his purpose, and adopted the son of a poor\nwidow, calling the boy by the name of Postumius, and educating him with\nthe utmost care.\n\nIn the course of time it happened that Salardo grew weary of Genoa, and\ndetermined to seek a home elsewhere, not because he did not find the\ncity all that was fair and pleasant, but simply because he was infected\nwith that desire for change which, not seldom, seizes upon those who\nlive for pleasure alone. Therefore, with great store of money and\njewels, and with sumptuous equipage, he left Genoa with Theodora his\nbeloved wife, and his adopted son Postumius, and having traversed\nPiamonte, made a halt at Montferrat. Here he soon began to make the\nacquaintance of divers of the citizens, through going with them to the\nchase, and in other social gatherings in which he took great delight;\nand, in consequence of his wealth and generosity, he soon achieved a\nposition of honour and repute.\n\nThe rumour of Salardo\u2019s splendid hospitality came before long to the\nears of the ruling prince, the Marquis of Montferrat, who, when he saw\nthat the newcomer was a handsome young man, well born, rich, of courtly\nmanners, and ready for any gallant enterprise, took him into high favour\nand would seldom let a day pass without seeing him. At last, so great\nwas the influence of Salardo over the marquis, it fell out that anyone\nwho wanted a favour done to him by the latter would always manage to let\nhis petition pass through Salardo\u2019s hands. Wherefore Salardo, mindful of\nthe favour he enjoyed, was ever eager to devise some new pleasure for\nhis patron, who, as became a young man, was much given to field sports,\nand kept a great number of falcons and hounds for the chase, and all\nappurtenances of venery, worthy of his high estate. But he would never\ngo hunting or hawking save in the company of Salardo.\n\nOne day Salardo, being alone, began to consider the great fortune which\nhad befallen him through the favour of the prince, and by-and-by his\nthoughts turned to his son Postumius, how discreet, and dutiful, and\nupright, and graceful he was. \u2018Ah!\u2019 he said to himself, \u2018my poor old\nfather was indeed sorely in error about these precepts of his. He must,\nlike many old men, have become imbecile with age; either this cause, or\nsome frenzy, must have urged him to command me so particularly not to\nadopt a strange child as my own, or to become the subject of an absolute\nprince. I now see the folly of his precepts, for what son born to a\nfather could be more sober, courteous, gentle, and obedient, than\nPostumius, whom I have adopted, and where should I find greater\naffection and more honourable treatment than is given to me by the\nmarquis, an absolute prince and one knowing no superior? And, exalted as\nhe is, he pays me so much worship and love that it seems sometimes as if\nI stood in the highest place, and he in one beneath me. Of a truth I\nknow not what to think of it; of a truth it is a common trick of old\npeople to forget the tastes and inclinations of their youth, and to lay\ndown for their children rules and regulations, imposing thereby burdens\nwhich they themselves would not touch with the tips of their fingers.\nAnd this they do, moved not by love, but by the craving to keep their\noffspring longer in subjection. Now, because I have disburdened myself\nof two of the pledges imposed upon me by my father without any evil\nconsequence, I will quickly get rid of the third; for I am assured that\nwhen I shall be free from it my dear wife will only love me the more.\nAnd she herself, whom I love more than the light of my eyes, will give\nample proof of the imbecility, or even madness, of wretched old age,\nwhich finds its chief joy in imposing, with its dead hand, intolerable\nrestrictions on the living. Truly my father must have been insane when\nhe made his will, for to whom is my trust due if not to her who has left\nher home and kinsfolk and become of one heart and soul with me. Surely I\nmay confide to her any secret, however important it may be; so I will\nput her fidelity to the test, not on my own account, for I doubt it not,\nbut to prove her strength, and to give an example to those foolish ones\nwho rate disobedience to the wishes of dead and gone dotards as an\nunpardonable sin.\u2019\n\nIn these terms Salardo girded at his father\u2019s wise injunctions, and\ndeliberated how he might best rid himself of them entirely. After a\nlittle he left his house and went over to the mews at the palace, where\nthe falcons of the marquis were kept, and of these he took one which was\na great favourite of its owner, and secretly conveyed it to the house of\na friend of his whose name was Francesco. He handed over the bird to his\nfriend, and begged him, for the sake of the love there was between them,\nto hold it for him till the time should come when he might disclose the\nobject of his request. Then, when he had returned to his home, he took a\nfalcon of his own, and, having privily killed it, he bore it to his\nwife, saying: \u2018Theodora, my beloved wife, I, as you well know, find it\nhard to get a moment\u2019s rest on account of the many hours I am compelled\nto spend in attendance on the marquis, hunting, or fowling, or jousting,\nor in some other sport; and sometimes I hardly know whether I am dead or\nalive. Wherefore, to keep him from spending all his time over the chase,\nI have played him a trick he will relish but little. However, it may\nperhaps keep him at home, and give us and others some repose.\u2019 To this\nhis wife said: \u2018And what have you done?\u2019 \u2018I have killed his best\nfalcon,\u2019 Salardo replied, \u2018the favourite of all; and when he looks for\nit in vain I believe he will die of rage.\u2019 And here he lifted his cloak\nand took out the falcon which he had killed, and, having handed it over\nto his wife, directed her to have it cooked for supper. When Theodora\nheard this speech, and saw the dead falcon, she was deeply moved to\ngrief, and, turning to Salardo, reproached him severely for his foolish\njest. \u2018For what reason have you committed such a grave offence,\u2019 she\nsaid, \u2018and put such an insult on the marquis, who holds you so dear, and\nheaps such high favour upon you, and sets you above all others? Alas!\nSalardo, I fear our ruin is near. If, peradventure, the marquis should\ncome to know what you have done, you would assuredly be in great danger\nof death.\u2019 Salardo answered: \u2018But how can he ever know this? The secret\nis yours and mine alone, and, by the love you have borne and still bear\nme, I pray you be careful not to reveal it, for if he should learn it\nour ruin would be complete.\u2019 \u2018Have no fear of this,\u2019 said Theodora, \u2018I\nwould rather die than disclose it.\u2019\n\nThe falcon was cooked and served at supper, and Salardo and his wife\ntook their seats, but the lady refused to eat of the bird, though\nSalardo, with gentle words, enticed her thereto. At last, as she\nremained obstinate, he gave her such a buffet on the face that her cheek\nbecame scarlet from the blow. Wherefore she began to weep and lament\nbitterly that he should thus misuse her, and at last rose from the\ntable, muttering beneath her breath that she would bear in mind that\nblow as long as she might live, and that in due time she would repay\nhim. When morning was come, she stole early from her bed, and hastened\nto tell the marquis of the falcon\u2019s death, which news so fired him with\nrage that he ordered Salardo to be seized forthwith, and to be hanged\nwithout trial, and all his goods to be divided into three parts, of\nwhich one should be given to his wife as accuser, another to his son,\nand the remaining one to the man who should act as hangman.\n\nNow Postumius, who was now a lusty well-grown youth, when he heard his\nfather\u2019s doom and the disposition of his goods ordered by the marquis,\nran quickly to Theodora and said to her: \u2018Mother, would it not be wiser\nfor me to hang my father myself, thus gaining the third of his goods\nwhich would otherwise pass to a stranger.\u2019 And to this Theodora replied:\n\u2018Truly, my son, you speak well, for if you do this, your father\u2019s riches\nwill remain with us intact.\u2019 So Postumius went straightway to the\nmarquis to ask leave to hang his father, and thus earn the hangman\u2019s\nshare, which boon the marquis graciously allowed.\n\nNow Salardo had confided the whole of his secret to his faithful friend\nFrancesco, and at the same time had begged him, when the hangman should\nbe ready to do his work, to go to the marquis and beg him to let Salardo\nbe brought before him, and graciously to listen to what he might have to\nsay in his defence, and Francesco was loyal in carrying out this\nrequest. Meantime, the wretched Salardo, loaded with fetters, was\nawaiting in prison the hour which should see him led to a disgraceful\ndeath on the scaffold. \u2018Now I know,\u2019 he cried, with bitter weeping,\n\u2018that my good old father in his wisdom gave me those precepts for my\nprofit. He gave me sage counsel, and I, senseless ribald as I am, cast\nit aside. He, mindful of my safety, warned me against my domestic\nenemies, and I have delivered myself into their hands, and handed over\nto them my riches to enjoy. He, well skilled in the disposition of\ndespots, who in the space of an hour will love and hate, exalt and\nabase, counselled me to shun them; but I, as if eager to sacrifice at\nonce my substance, my honour, and my life, thrust my head into the jaws\nof this marquis, and put my faithless wife to the proof. Ah, Salardo,\nbetter had it been for you to follow in your father\u2019s footsteps, and let\nothers seek the company of princes! Now I see into what strait my\nfoolish confidence in myself, in my wife, in my wicked son, and, above\nall, in this ungrateful marquis, has led me. Now I see the value of the\nlove of this prince for me. How could he deal more cruelly with me than\nby robbing me of my goods, my life, and my honour in one blow, showing\nthus how his love has turned to hate? I recognize now the truth of the\nproverb which says that a prince is like wine in a flagon, sweet in the\nmorning and sour at eve. Where is now my nobility and my kinsmen? Is\nthis the end of my loyalty, uprightness, and courtesy? O my father, I\nbelieve that, dead though you be, when you gaze into the mirror of\neternal goodness, and see me about to be hanged, because, forsooth, I\ndisbelieved and disregarded your wise and loving counsel, you will pray\nto God to have compassion on my youthful errors, and I, your disobedient\nand ungrateful son, pray to you also for pardon.\u2019\n\nWhile the unhappy Salardo was thus communing with himself, Postumius,\nwith the air of a practised hangman, went with a body of police to the\nprison, and, arrogantly presenting himself to Salardo, spake thus: \u2018My\nfather, forasmuch as you are bound to be hanged by the order of the\nmarquis, and as the third part of your goods is to go to him who ties\nthe noose, I am sure, for the love you bear me, you will not be wroth at\nthe part I have chosen to play, seeing that thereby your goods, in lieu\nof passing to strangers, will remain with your own family.\u2019\n\nSalardo, after listening attentively to this speech, replied: \u2018God bless\nyou, my son; the course you have chosen pleases me much, and if at first\nthe thought of death terrified me, I am now content to die after\nlistening to your words. Do your office, therefore, quickly.\u2019 Postumius\nfirst implored his father\u2019s pardon, and then, having kissed him, put the\nhalter about his neck, and exhorted him to meet death with patience.\nSalardo, when he saw the turn things were taking, stood astonished, and,\nafter a little, was led out of prison with his arms bound and a halter\nround his neck, and, accompanied by the hangman and the officers, was\nhurried towards the place of execution. Arrived there, he turned his\nback towards the ladder which stood against the gibbet, and in this\nattitude he mounted step by step. When he had reached the top he looked\ndown courageously upon the assembly, and told them at full length the\ncause which had brought him there, and with gentle words he implored\npardon for any affront he might have given, and exhorted all young\npeople to be obedient to their fathers. When the people heard for what\ncause Salardo was condemned, there was not one who did not lament his\nunhappy fate and pray he might yet be pardoned.\n\nWhile the events above named were taking place, Francesco betook himself\nto the palace, and, having been introduced, thus addressed the marquis:\n\u2018Most worshipful sir, if ever you have been prompted to show pity\ntowards anyone, you are now doubly bound to deal mercifully with the\ncase of this friend of yours who is now, for no fault of his, led out to\nsuffer a shameful death. Consider, my lord, for what reason you\ncondemned Salardo, who loved you so dearly, and never by thought or deed\nwrought an offence against you. Most gracious prince, only suffer your\nfaithful friend to be brought into your presence, and I will clearly\ndemonstrate to you his innocence.\u2019 The marquis, with his eyes aflame\nwith rage at Francesco\u2019s petition, made an effort to thrust him out of\nhis presence, but the suppliant threw himself down at the feet of the\nmarquis, and, embracing his knees, cried out with tears: \u2018As you are a\njust prince, have pity, O noble marquis! and let not the guiltless\nSalardo die because of your anger. Calm yourself, and I will prove his\ninnocence; stay your hand but one hour, for the sake of that justice\nwhich you and your fathers have always reverenced, lest it be said of\nyou that you put your friend to death without cause.\u2019\n\nThe marquis, violently angered against Francesco, now broke silence: \u2018I\nsee you wish to go the way of Salardo. If you go on enraging me thus I\nwill assuredly have you set by his side.\u2019 \u2018My lord,\u2019 Francesco replied,\n\u2018I ask for no greater boon than to be hanged alongside Salardo, if,\nafter having made inquiry, you do not find him innocent.\u2019 This last\nspeech moved the marquis somewhat, for he reasoned that Francesco would\nnever have spoken thus without being assured of Salardo\u2019s innocence,\nseeing that he thereby ran the risk of the halter himself. Wherefore he\naccorded the hour\u2019s delay, and, having warned Francesco that he must\nlook to be hanged if he should fail to prove his friend\u2019s innocence, he\nsent a messenger straightway to the place of justice with an order to\ndelay the execution, and to bring Salardo, bound as he was and with the\nrope about his neck, and the hangman and officers as well, into his\npresence without delay.\n\nSalardo, on being brought before the marquis, noted that his face was\nstill clouded with anger, and outspake at once with clear voice and\nundaunted carriage: \u2018My lord, the service I freely gave you, and the\nlove I bore you, scarcely deserved such a reward as the shame and\nindignity you have put upon me in thus condemning me to a disgraceful\ndeath. I admit that my folly, so to call it, deserved your anger; but I\nwas guilty of no crime heinous enough to warrant you in condemning me\nthus hastily and unheard. The falcon, on account of which your anger was\nkindled, lives safe and sound. It was never in my mind to kill it or to\ninsult you. I wanted to use it as a means of trying an experiment, the\nnature of which I will now disclose to you.\u2019 Having thus spoken, Salardo\nbade Francesco go fetch the falcon and return it to its master; and then\nhe told the marquis the whole story of the precepts he had received from\nhis father, and how he had disregarded every one. The marquis, when he\nlistened to this frank and candid speech, and saw his falcon, handsome\nand well nourished as ever, was, for the moment, struck dumb; but when\nhe had fully realized his error of having condemned a guiltless man to\ndeath unheard, he raised his eyes, which were full of tears, and turned\nthem on Salardo, saying: \u2018Salardo, if you could clearly realize all I\nfeel at this moment, you would know that the pain you have suffered from\nthe halter round your neck and the bonds about your arms is as nought\ncompared with the anguish which now torments me. I can hardly hope ever\nto be happy again after having done so grievous an injury to you, who\nloved and served me so faithfully. If it were possible that all should\nbe undone, how gladly would I undo it; but, since this is out of the\nquestion, I will do my utmost to wipe out my offence, and to give you\nall the reparation I can.\u2019\n\nHaving thus spoken, the marquis with his own hands unfastened the halter\nfrom Salardo\u2019s neck, and loosened his bonds, embracing him the while\nwith the greatest tenderness; and, having taken him by the right hand\nand led him to a seat by his own, he ordered the halter to be put round\nthe neck of Postumius, and the youth to be led away to execution,\nbecause of his wicked conduct; but this Salardo would not permit.\n\u2018Postumius,\u2019 he said to the wretched youth, \u2018what shall I now do with\nyou, whom, for the love of God, I have nurtured from childhood, only to\nbe so cruelly deceived? On one side is my past love for you; on the\nother, the contempt I feel for the wicked deed you planned to do. One\ncalls upon my fatherly kindness to forgive you, the other bids me harden\nmy heart against you. What then shall I do? If I pardon you, men will\njeer at my weakness; if I punish you as you deserve, I shall go counter\nto the divine exhortation to forgiveness. But that men may not tax me\neither with too great leniency, or too great severity, I will neither\nmake you suffer in your person, nor will I myself endure the sight of\nyou any more; and in place of my wealth, which you so greedily desired,\nyou shall have the halter which you knotted round my neck, and keep it\nalways as a remembrance of your wicked deed. Now begone, and let me\nnever see you or hear of you again.\u2019\n\nWith these words he drove out the wretched Postumius, of whom nothing\nmore was ever heard. Theodora, as soon as she was told of Salardo\u2019s\nliberation, fled to a certain convent, where she soon ended her days\nmiserably, and Salardo, when he heard the news of her death, took leave\nof the marquis and returned to Genoa, where, after having given away all\nthe wealth he did not want for his own use, he lived long and happily.\n\nDuring the telling of Lauretta\u2019s story divers of the hearers were moved\nto tears, but when they heard that Salardo had been delivered from the\ngibbet, and Postumius ignominiously expelled, and of Theodora\u2019s flight\nand ill-starred end, they were heartily glad. The Signora gave the word\nto Lauretta to propound her enigma, so that the order of entertainment\nagreed upon the previous evening might be observed, and the damsel with\na smiling face gave it in these words:\n\n                 In a prison pent forlorn,\n                 A tiny son to me was born.\n                 Ah, cruel fate! The savage elf,\n                 Scarce bigger than a mite himself,\n                 Devoured me in his ravenous lust,\n                 And changed me into sordid dust.\n                 A mother fond I was of late,\n                 Now worse e\u2019en than a slave\u2019s my fate.\n\nThe fair Lauretta, when she saw that no one was likely to solve her\nriddle, said, \u201cThis enigma of mine concerns the dry bean which is\nimprisoned between two husks; where, later on, she engenders a worm no\nbigger than a mite. This worm feeds upon her, and finally consumes her,\nso that not only is she destroyed as a mother, but not even the\ncondition of a servant is possible for her.\u201d All were pleased at\nLauretta\u2019s explanation, and Alteria, who sat next to her, having been\nselected as the next speaker, began at once her story without awaiting\nthe Signora\u2019s command.\n\n\n\n\n                           THE SECOND FABLE.\n\n  =Cassandrino, a noted robber, and a friend of the pr\u00e6tor of Perugia,\n      steals the pr\u00e6tor\u2019s bed and his horse Liardo, but afterwards\n      becomes a man of probity and good repute.=\n\n\nThe wit of man, dear ladies, is so keen and subtle, that one would be\nhard set to find a task arduous enough to baffle it. There is, indeed, a\nfamiliar saying of the common people, that a man does what he wishes to\ndo; and this same proverb it is which has suggested to me the tale I am\nabout to tell you. Although it is somewhat ridiculous, it may yield you\nsome pleasure, or even instruction, by demonstrating to you the cunning\nof those who are thieves by profession.\n\nIn Perugia, an ancient and noble city of Romagna, renowned for its\nlearning and for sumptuous living, there abode, not very long ago, a\nhandsome young scapegrace named Cassandrino. So ill was his reputation\nwith the citizens, on account of his many robberies, that frequent and\nlengthy complaints thereanent were made to the pr\u00e6tor by men of all\nstations in the city; but this latter, though he rated Cassandrino\nsoundly for his misdeeds, seemed loath to punish him. Now, though\nCassandrino was, past gainsaying, a thievish knave, he had one virtue\nwhich at least got him credit with the pr\u00e6tor, that is, he did not rob\nfor the mere love of pelf so much as to be able, now and then, to spend\nmagnificently and to offer handsome gifts to those who favoured him.\nWherefore, and because he was affable, courteous, and witty, the pr\u00e6tor\nlooked upon him so kindly that he would rarely let pass a day without\nseeing him.\n\nBut since Cassandrino persisted in these more or less reprehensible\ncourses, the pr\u00e6tor was forced to give ear to the complaints which, with\nfull justice, were laid against him. Being still reluctant to bring the\nculprit to justice, on account of the kindly feeling in his heart, he\nsummoned Cassandrino one day into an inner chamber, and began to\nadmonish him with friendly words, and to exhort him to have done with\nhis evil ways, warning him of the perils he was risking thereby.\nCassandrino listened attentively to the pr\u00e6tor\u2019s words, and spake thus\nin reply: \u2018Sir, I hear and clearly understand the good counsel which\nyou, of your great courtesy, have given to me, and I know full well that\nit springs from the generous affection in which you hold me, and for\nwhich I am most grateful. I am indeed grieved that we should be plagued\nwith certain foolish people jealous of others\u2019 well-being, and ever\nready to blast their honour with spiteful words. These busybodies, who\nbear such tales about me, would do better to keep their venomous tongues\nbetween their teeth than to let them run on to my hurt.\u2019 The pr\u00e6tor,\nswayed by his affection for the speaker, needed very little persuasion\nto believe Cassandrino\u2019s story and to turn a deaf ear to the plaints of\nhis ravages made by the citizens. It chanced soon after that\nCassandrino, being a guest at the pr\u00e6tor\u2019s table, told him of a youth\nwho was so marvellously light-fingered that he could steal anything he\nhad a mind to, however carefully guarded and protected it might be. The\npr\u00e6tor, when he heard this, laughed and said: \u2018Cassandrino, this youth\ncan be no other than you yourself, for there cannot be another such a\ncrafty trickster; but, to put you to the test, I will promise you a\nhundred golden florins if you succeed to-night in stealing the bed out\nof the chamber in which I sleep.\u2019 Cassandrino seemed somewhat disturbed\nat these words, and then answered: \u2018Sir, you evidently take me for a\nthief; but let me tell you I am not one, nor the son of one. I live by\nthe sweat of my brow, and by my own industry, such as it is, and do for\nmyself the best I can. But if it be your will to bring me to the gallows\non this score, I will go there gladly for the sake of the regard I have\never had, and still have, for you.\u2019 After this speech Cassandrino\nwithdrew, for he was very anxious to humour the pr\u00e6tor\u2019s whim, and he\nwent about all day cudgelling his brains to devise how he might steal\nthe pr\u00e6tor\u2019s bed from under him without betraying himself. At last he\nhit on the following scheme. A certain doctor of the city had lately\ndied, and on that very day had been buried in his family vault. After\nmidnight Cassandrino stole to the burying-place, and, having opened the\nvault, drew therefrom the dead body of the doctor by the feet, and,\nafter he had stripped it, dressed it again in his own clothes, which\nfitted so well that anyone would have taken it for Cassandrino and not\nfor the doctor. He hoisted the corpse upon his shoulders as well as he\ncould, and, having made his way safely to the palace, he scaled the\nroof, with the doctor\u2019s body on his back, by a ladder which he had\nprovided, and began noiselessly to remove the tiles with an iron\ncrowbar, finally making a large hole in the ceiling of the room in which\nthe pr\u00e6tor was sleeping.\n\nThe pr\u00e6tor, who was wide awake, heard distinctly all that was going on,\nand laughed to himself, though his roof was being pulled to pieces, for\nhe expected every moment to see Cassandrino enter the room and attempt\nto carry off the bed. \u2018Ah! Messer Cassandrino,\u2019 he said to himself, \u2018you\nwill not steal my bed to-night.\u2019 But while he was thus chuckling and\nexpecting the attempt, Cassandrino let fall the dead body of the doctor\nthrough the breach in the ceiling into the pr\u00e6tor\u2019s room. The noise it\nmade caused him to jump out of bed and light a candle, and then he saw\nwhat he took to be the body of Cassandrino (because it was dressed in\nthat worthy\u2019s clothes) lying mangled and huddled together on the floor.\nWhen he recognized the garments, he was profoundly grieved, and cried\nout, \u2018Ah, what a wretched sight is here! To gratify my silly caprice I\nhave killed this man. What will men say if it be noised abroad that he\nmet his end in my house? Of a truth one needs to be careful.\u2019 The\npr\u00e6tor, lamenting thus, went to rouse a faithful servant of his, and\nhaving awakened him, told him of the unhappy mischance, and begged him\ngo dig a hole in the garden and bury therein the dead body, so as to\nprevent scandal. Whilst the pr\u00e6tor and his servant were burying the dead\nbody in the garden, Cassandrino, who had silently watched the pr\u00e6tor\u2019s\nmovements, as soon as the coast was clear let himself down by a rope,\nand having made a parcel of the bed, carried it away with all possible\nhaste. After he had buried the body, the pr\u00e6tor returned to his room;\nbut when he prepared to get into bed, no bed was there. He slept little\nthat night, wherefore he had plenty of time to ponder over the cunning\nand dexterity of his friend Cassandrino.\n\nThe next day Cassandrino, according to his wont, went to the palace and\npresented himself to the pr\u00e6tor, who, as soon as he had set eyes on him,\nsaid: \u2018In truth, Cassandrino, you are the very prince of thieves! who\nelse would have contrived so cunningly to steal my bed?\u2019 Cassandrino was\nsilent, feigning the utmost astonishment, as if he had had no part in\nthe affair. \u2018You have played an excellent trick upon me,\u2019 the pr\u00e6tor\nwent on to say, \u2018but I must get you to play me yet another, in order\nthat I may judge how far your ingenuity can carry you. If you can manage\nto-night to steal my horse Liardo\u2014the best I ever had\u2014I will give you\nanother hundred florins, in addition to the hundred I have already\npromised you.\u2019 Cassandrino, when he heard of this fresh task which was\nput upon him, feigned to be much troubled, and loudly lamented that the\npr\u00e6tor should hold him in such ill repute, begging him at the same time\nnot to be his ruin. The pr\u00e6tor, deeming that Cassandrino refused assent\nto his request, grew angry, and said, \u2018Well, if you will not do as I bid\nyou, look for no other fate than to hang by a halter from the city\nwall.\u2019 Cassandrino, who now saw that his case was dangerous, and in no\nsmall measure,[20] replied: \u2018I will do all I can to gratify you in what\nyou ask, but believe me the task you propose is one beyond my power;\u2019\nand with these words he departed.\n\nAs soon as he was gone, the pr\u00e6tor, who was resolved this time to put\nCassandrino\u2019s ingenuity to no light trial, called one of his servants\nand thus addressed him: \u2018Go to the stable, and saddle and bridle my\nhorse Liardo; then mount him, and keep all night on his back, taking\ngood heed the while that he be not stolen.\u2019 And he gave orders to\nanother to see that all the doors of the palace were well secured with\nbolts. That night Cassandrino took all his implements, and repaired to\nthe principal gate of the palace, where he found the porter quietly\ndozing; but, because he knew well all the secret issues of the place, he\nlet the porter sleep on, and, making use of another passage, he gained\nthe courtyard, and thence passed on to the stables, which he found fast\nlocked. With very little trouble he unfastened the door, and having\nopened this, he perceived, to his amazement, that a man was sitting on\nthe pr\u00e6tor\u2019s favourite horse, with the reins in his hand, but when he\napproached he saw the fellow was sound asleep. The crafty rascal, noting\nthat the sleeping varlet was senseless as a statue, at once hit upon a\nplan, clever beyond belief. He carefully measured the height of the\nhorse, and then stole away into the garden, from whence he brought back\nfour stout poles, such as are used in supporting vines on a trellis; and\nhaving sharpened them at the ends, he cunningly cut the reins, which the\nsleeping servant held in his hand, and the breast-strap, and the girths,\nand the crupper, and every other bond which stood in his way. Then,\nhaving fixed one of the poles in the ground, with the upper end\ndexterously inserted under one corner of the saddle, he did exactly the\nsame on the other side, and repeated the operation at the other two\nremaining corners. Next he raised the saddle off the horse\u2019s back (the\nservant being sound asleep all the while), and let it rest entirely on\nthe four poles which were firmly fixed in the ground. Then, there being\nno obstacle in his way, he haltered the horse and led it off.\n\nThe pr\u00e6tor was astir early the next morning, and repaired forthwith to\nthe stable, where he expected to find his horse all safe; but the sight\nwhich met his eyes was his servant, still sitting fast asleep on the\nsaddle propped up by four poles. The pr\u00e6tor, having awakened him, loaded\nhim with abuse, and, half dazed with what he had seen, quitted the\nstable and returned to the palace. At the usual hour in the morning\nCassandrino betook himself to the palace, and gave the pr\u00e6tor a merry\nsalute when he appeared. \u2018Cassandrino,\u2019 said the latter, \u2018assuredly you\ncarry off the palm amongst thieves. I may indeed dub you with the title\nof \u201cKing of the thieves,\u201d but still should like to ascertain whether you\nare a man of wit and cleverness. You know, I think, Messer Severino, the\npriest of Sangallo, a village hard by. Well, if you bring him here to me\ntied up in a sack, I promise to give you as much money again as you have\nalready earned; but if you fail in this, be sure that I will hang you up\nby the neck.\u2019 This Messer Severino was a man of holy life, and of the\nbest repute, but in no wise experienced in worldly affairs, seeing that\nhe cared for nought else but the service of his church. Cassandrino,\nperceiving that the pr\u00e6tor had set his mind on working him an injury,\nsaid to himself: \u2018This man, I plainly see, is bent on doing me to death;\nbut in this he will find himself mistaken, for I will execute this task\nif it is to be done.\u2019 Cassandrino, being thus anxious to do the pr\u00e6tor\u2019s\nbidding, cast about how he might play a trick upon the priest which\nwould serve the purpose he had in view, and ultimately fixed on the\nfollowing stratagem. He borrowed from a friend of his a priest\u2019s alb,\nlong enough to come down to his heels, and a well-broidered stole, and\nthese he took home to his lodging. Then he got ready a pair of beautiful\nwings, painted in divers colours, which he had fashioned out of\npasteboards, and also a diadem of tinsel, which shone radiantly. At\nnightfall he stole out of the town with his gewgaws, and went towards\nthe village where Messer Severino abode, and there he hid himself in a\nthicket of sharp thorns, and lay close till the day began to dawn. Then\nCassandrino put on the alb, and the stole round about his neck, and set\nthe diadem on his head, and fixed the wings on his shoulders. Having\ndone this, he hid himself again, and stirred not till the time had come\nwhen the priest should go forth to ring the bell for the Ave Maria.\nScarcely had Cassandrino vested himself, when Messer Severino, with his\nacolyte, arrived at the church door, which he left open, and went in to\ndo his morning office. Cassandrino, who was on the watch, saw that the\ndoor of the church was standing open while the good priest was ringing\nthe bell, crept out of his hiding-place, stole softly into the church,\nand, when he had entered, went up to the altar and stood upright,\nholding open a large sack in his hands. Next he cried out in a low\nchanting voice: \u2018Whoever wishes to enter into the joys of paradise, let\nhim get into this sack;\u2019 and these words he repeated over and over\nagain. While he was performing this mummery, the acolyte came out of the\nsacristy, and, when he saw the snow-white alb, and the diadem shining\nbrilliant as the sun, and the wings as gorgeous as a peacock\u2019s\u2014to say\nnothing of the words he heard\u2014he was altogether amazed; but when he had\nsomewhat recovered, he went off to find the priest, and said to him:\n\u2018Sir, sir, I have just seen in the church an angel of heaven, holding a\nsack in his hands, who said: \u201cWhoever wishes to enter into the joys of\nparadise, let him get into this sack;\u201d and I, for my part, have made up\nmy mind to do as he bids me.\u2019\n\nThe priest, who was not over well furnished in the upper storey, gave\nfull credence to the acolyte\u2019s tale, and, as soon as he had issued from\nthe sacristy, saw the angel standing there, clad in celestial garb, as\nthe acolyte had said. Now Messer Severino was powerfully moved by the\nangel\u2019s words, and being mightily anxious to get safe to paradise, and\nat the same time somewhat in fear lest the clerk should forestall him by\ngetting first into the sack, made believe to have left his breviary\nbehind him at his lodging, and said to the acolyte: \u2018Go quickly home and\nsearch my chamber diligently, and bring back my breviary which I have\nleft somewhere.\u2019\n\nAnd while the acolyte was gone to search for the breviary the priest\napproached the angel, making the while a deep reverence, and crept into\nthe sack. Cassandrino, who was full of sharp cunning and mischief,\nseeing that the game was going as he wished, closed the sack\u2019s mouth at\nonce and tied it firmly. Then he took off the alb, the diadem, and the\nwings, and having made a bundle of these and hoisted it, together with\nthe sack, on his shoulders, he set out for Perugia, where he arrived as\nsoon as it was clear daylight, and at the accustomed hour presented\nhimself before the pr\u00e6tor with the sack on his back. Having untied the\nmouth, he lugged out Messer Severino, who, finding himself in the\npresence of the pr\u00e6tor, and more dead than alive\u2014conscious likewise that\na fool\u2019s trick had been played with him\u2014made a weighty charge against\nCassandrino, crying out at the top of his voice that he had been robbed\nand inveigled by craft into the sack, to his great loss and humiliation,\nand begging the pr\u00e6tor to make an example of him, nor to let so great a\ncrime go without severe punishment, so as to give a clear warning to all\nother malefactors. The pr\u00e6tor, who had already fathomed the business\nfrom beginning to end, could not contain his laughter, and turning to\nMesser Severino thus addressed him: \u2018My good father and my friend, say\nnot another word and do not distress yourself, for you shall never want\nany favour, nor fail to have justice done to you; although, as I see\nquite clearly, you have just been made the victim of a joke.\u2019 The pr\u00e6tor\nhad to say and do his best to pacify the good priest, and, having taken\na little packet wherein were several pieces of gold, he gave it to him\nand directed that he should be escorted out of the town. Then, turning\nto Cassandrino, he said to him: \u2018Cassandrino, Cassandrino, of a truth\nyour knavish deeds outdo your knavish reputation which is spread abroad.\nWherefore, take these four hundred golden florins which I promised you,\nbecause you have fairly gained them, but take care that you bear\nyourself more decently in the future than you have borne yourself in the\npast, for if I hear any more complaints of your knavish pranks, you\nshall certainly be hanged.\u2019\n\nCassandrino hereupon took the four hundred golden florins, and having\nduly thanked the pr\u00e6tor for them, went his way, and with this money he\ntraded skilfully and successfully, and in time became a man of business\nhighly respected by all.\n\nThe ladies and gentlemen were much pleased with Alteria\u2019s story, and she\nbeing called upon by the Signora gave her enigma in the following terms:\n\n                While I my nightly vigil kept,\n                A man I spied, who softly crept\n                Adown the hall, whereon I said,\n                \u201cTo bed, Sir Bernard, get to bed.\n                Two shall undress you, four with care\n                Shut fast the doors, and eight up there\n                Shall watch, and bid the rest beware.\u201d\n                While these deceiving words I said,\n                The thievish wight in terror fled.\n\nAlteria, seeing that the hour was late and that no one was likely to\nsolve her riddle, gave this explanation: \u201cA gentleman had gone into the\ncountry with all his household, and had left in his palace an old woman,\nwho prudently made a practice of going about the house at nightfall to\nsee if she might espy any thieves, and one evening it chanced that she\nsaw a robber on a balcony, who watched her through a hole. The good old\nwoman refrained from crying out, and wisely made believe that her master\nwas in the house, and a throng of servants as well. So she said: \u2018Go to\nbed, Messer Bernardo, and let two servants undress you, and four shut\nthe doors, while eight go upstairs and guard the house.\u2019 And while the\nold woman was giving these orders, the thief, fearing to be discovered,\nstole away.\u201d When Alteria\u2019s clever riddle had been solved, Cateruzza,\nwho was seated next to her, remembered that the third story of this\nfirst night was to be told by her, so with a smiling face she began.\n\n\n\n\n                            THE THIRD FABLE.\n\n\n  =Pre Scarpafico, having been once duped by three robbers, dupes them\n      thrice in return, and lives happily the rest of his days.=\n\nThe end of Signora Alteria\u2019s story, which she has set forth with so\ngreat skill, supplies me with a theme for my own, which peradventure may\nplease you no less than hers, though on one point it will show a\nvariance, inasmuch as she pictured to us Pre Severino neatly entrapped\nby Cassandrino; while in the story I am about to tell you, Pre\nScarpafico threw the net no less adroitly over divers knaves who were\ntrying to get the better of him.\n\nNear to Imola, a city always plagued by factious quarrels and ultimately\ndestroyed thereby, there lived once upon a time a priest named\nScarpafico, who served the village church of Postema. He was well to do,\nbut miserly and avaricious beyond measure, and he had for housekeeper a\nshrewd and clever woman named Nina, who was so alert and pushing that\nshe would never scruple to tell any man whatever might come into her\nmind. And because she was faithful and prudent in administering his\naffairs he held her in high esteem.\n\nNow when good Pre Scarpafico was young he was as jolly a priest as there\nwas to be met in all the country round; but at this time age had made\nwalking on foot irksome to him, so the good Nina was always persuading\nhim to buy a horse, in order that his days might not be shortened\nthrough too great fatigue. At last Scarpafico, overborne by the\npersuasions of his servant, went one day to the market, and having seen\nthere a mule which appeared exactly to suit his need, bought it for\nseven golden florins.\n\nIt happened that there were three merry fellows at the market that day,\nof the sort which liefer lives on the goods of others than on its own\nearnings\u2014as sometimes happens even in our own time\u2014and, as soon as they\nsaw the bargain struck, one said to the others, \u2018Comrades, I have a mind\nthat the mule yonder should belong to us.\u2019 \u2018But how can that be\nmanaged?\u2019 said the others. Then the first speaker replied, \u2018We must post\nourselves along the road he will take on his journey home, about a\nquarter of a mile apart one from another, and as he passes each one must\naffirm positively that the mule he has bought is not a mule at all, but\nan ass, and if we are brazen enough in our declaration the mule will be\nours.\u2019\n\nAccordingly they started from the market and stationed themselves\nseparately on the road, as they had appointed, and when Pre Scarpafico\napproached the first of the thieves, the fellow, feigning to be on the\nroad to the market, said, \u2018God be with you, sir!\u2019 to which Scarpafico\nreplied, \u2018And welcome to you, my brother.\u2019 \u2018Whence come you, sir?\u2019 said\nthe thief. \u2018From the market,\u2019 Scarpafico answered. \u2018And what good\nbargains have you picked up there?\u2019 asked the thief. \u2018This mule,\u2019 said\nScarpafico. \u2018Which mule?\u2019 exclaimed the robber. \u2018Why, the mule I am\nriding,\u2019 returned Scarpafico. \u2018Are you speaking in sober truth, or do\nyou mock me?\u2019 asked the thief; \u2018because it seems to me to be an ass, and\nnot a mule.\u2019 \u2018Indeed,\u2019 Scarpafico answered, and without another word he\nwent his way. Before he had ridden far he met the next robber, who\ngreeted him, \u2018Good morrow, sir, and where may you come from?\u2019 \u2018From the\nmarket,\u2019 answered Scarpafico. \u2018And was there aught worth buying?\u2019 said\nthe robber. \u2018Yes,\u2019 answered Scarpafico, \u2018I bought this mule which you\nsee.\u2019 \u2018How, sir,\u2019 said the robber, \u2018do you mean to say you bought that\nfor a mule, and not for an ass? What rascals must be about, seeing you\nhave been thus cheated!\u2019 \u2018An ass, indeed,\u2019 replied Scarpafico; \u2018if\nanyone else should tell me this same tale, I will make him a present of\nthe beast straightway.\u2019 Then going his way, he soon met the third thief,\nwho said to him, \u2018Good morrow, sir. You come mayhap from the market?\u2019 \u2018I\ndo,\u2019 replied Scarpafico. \u2018And what may you have bought there?\u2019 asked the\nrobber. \u2018I bought this mule which I am riding,\u2019 said Scarpafico. \u2018Mule,\u2019\nsaid the fellow; \u2018do you really mean what you say? Surely you must be\njoking when you call that beast a mule, while it is really an ass.\u2019\nScarpafico, when he heard this tale, said to the fellow, \u2018Two other men\nI have met told me the same story, and I did not believe them, but now\nit appears certain that the beast is an ass,\u2019 and having dismounted from\nthe mule, he handed it over to the thief, who, having thanked the priest\nfor it, went off to join his companions, leaving good Pre Scarpafico to\nmake his way home on foot.\n\nAs soon as he came to his house he told Nina how he had bought a nag at\nthe market, thinking it to be a mule, but that it had proved to be an\nass; and how, having been told that he had mistaken one beast for the\nother by several people he had met on the road home, he had given the\nbeast to the last of them. \u2018Ah, you poor simpleton!\u2019 cried Nina. \u2018Cannot\nyou see they have played you a trick? I thought you were cleverer than\nthis. In truth, they would not have fooled me thus.\u2019 \u2018Well, it is no use\nto grieve over it,\u2019 said Scarpafico. \u2018They may have played me a trick,\nbut see if I do not play them two in return. Be sure that these fellows,\nafter having once fooled me, will not rest content with that, but will\nsoon be weaving some new plot whereby they may plunder me afresh.\u2019\n\nNot far from Pre Scarpafico\u2019s house there lived a peasant, who had\namongst his goats two which were so much alike that it was impossible to\ntell one from the other. These two goats the priest bought, and the next\nday ordered Nina to prepare a good dinner for himself and some friends\nhe proposed to invite\u2014some boiled veal, and roast fowls and meat, and to\nmake savoury sauces thereto, and a tart of the sort she was accustomed\nto serve him with. Then he took one of the goats and tied it to a hedge\nin the garden, and having given it some fodder, he put a halter round\nthe neck of the other and led it off to the market, where he was at once\naccosted by the three worthies of the late escapade. \u2018Welcome, good sir,\nand what may be your business here to-day? You are come, no doubt, to\nmake another good purchase?\u2019 To which Scarpafico replied, \u2018I have come\nto buy divers provisions, for some friends are coming to dine with me;\nand if you will consent to join our feast it will please me greatly.\u2019\nThe cunning rascals willingly accepted Scarpafico\u2019s invitation, and he,\nwhen he had bought everything he required, bestowed all his purchases on\nthe back of the goat, and said to the beast, \u2018Now go home and tell Nina\nto boil this veal, and to roast the fowls and the meat, and tell her,\nmoreover, to make savoury sauce with these spices, and a fair tart. Do\nyou understand? Now go in peace.\u2019 And with these words he drove off the\nladen goat, which, being left to go where it would, wandered away, and\nwhat befell it no one knows. Scarpafico and his companions and some\nother friends of his strolled about the market-place till the hour of\ndinner, and then they all repaired to the priest\u2019s house, where the\nfirst thing they saw on entering the garden was the goat which\nScarpafico had tied to the hedge, calmly ruminating after its meal of\nherbage. The three adventurers at once set it down as the goat which Pre\nScarpafico had despatched home with his purchases, being beyond measure\namazed thereat; and when they were all come in, the priest said to Nina,\n\u2018Have you prepared everything as the goat told you?\u2019 and she,\nunderstanding his meaning, replied, \u2018Yes, sir, in a few minutes the\nroast loin and the fowls and the boiled veal will be ready, and the\nsauce made with spices, and the tart likewise; all as the goat told me.\u2019\n\nThe three robbers, when they saw set forth the roast and boiled and the\ntart, and heard what Nina said, were more astonished than ever, and at\nonce began to cast about how they might get possession of the goat by\ntheft; but when the dinner had come to an end, and they found themselves\nas far as ever from compassing their felonious purpose, they said to\nScarpafico, \u2018Sir, will you do us the favour to sell us that goat of\nyours?\u2019 But Scarpafico replied that he had no wish to part with it, for\nit was worth more money than the world held; but, after a little, he\nconsented to oblige them, and to take in exchange for it fifty golden\nflorins. \u2018But,\u2019 he added, \u2018take warning, and blame me not afterwards if\nthe goat does not obey you as it obeys me, for it knows you not or your\nways.\u2019\n\nBut the three adventurers heeded not this speech of Scarpafico, and,\nwithout further parley, carried off the goat, rejoicing in their\nbargain. When they came to their homes, they said to their wives, \u2018See\nthat you prepare no food to-morrow save that which we shall send home by\nthe goat.\u2019 On the morrow they went to the piazza, where they purchased\nfowls and divers other viands, and these they packed on the goat\u2019s back,\nand directed it to go home, and to tell to their wives all they ordered.\nThe goat, thus laden, when it was set at liberty, ran away into the\ncountry and was never seen again.\n\nWhen dinner-hour was come the three confederates straightway went home\nand demanded of their wives whether the goat had come back safely with\nthe provisions, and whether they had duly cooked these according to the\ndirections given. The women, amazed at what they heard, cried out, \u2018What\nfools and numskulls you must be to suppose that a beast like that would\ndo your bidding! You surely have been prettily duped. With your cheating\nother people every day, it was quite certain you would be caught\nyourselves at last.\u201d\n\nAs soon as the three robbers saw that Scarpafico had verily made fools\nof them, besides having eased their pockets of fifty golden florins,\nthey were hotly incensed against him, and, having caught up their arms,\nthey set forth to find him, swearing they would have his life. But the\ncunning priest, who fully expected that the robbers would seek vengeance\nupon him when they should discover how he had tricked them, had taken\ncounsel with Nina thereanent. \u2018Nina,\u2019 he said, \u2018take this bladder, which\nyou see is full, and wear it under your dress; then, when these robbers\ncome, I will put all the blame on you, and in my rage will make believe\nto stab you; but I will thrust the knife in this bladder, and you must\nfall down as if you were dead. The rest you will leave to me.\u2019\n\nScarcely had Scarpafico finished speaking when the confederates arrived,\nand at once made for Scarpafico as if to kill him. \u2018Hold, brothers,\u2019 he\ncried, \u2018what you would bring against me is none of my doing, but the\nwork of this servant of mine, most likely on account of some affront of\nwhich I know nothing.\u2019 And, turning towards Nina, he struck his knife\ninto the bladder, which he had previously filled with blood, and she\nforthwith feigned to be dead and fell down, while the blood gushed in\nstreams about where she lay. Then the priest, looking upon his work,\nmade great show of repentance, and bawled out lustily, \u2018Oh, wretched man\nthat I am! what have I done in thus foolishly slaying this woman who was\nthe prop of my old age? How shall I manage to live without her?\u2019 But\nafter a little he fetched a bagpipe, made according to a fancy of his\nown, and blew a tune upon it, until at last Nina jumped up safe and\nsound, as if recalled to life.\n\nWhen the robbers saw what happened they forgot their anger in their\nastonishment, and, after a little chaffering, they purchased the bagpipe\nfor two hundred florins, and went highly delighted to their homes. A day\nor two after it chanced that one of them fell out with his wife, and,\nbecoming enraged, stabbed her in the breast with his knife and killed\nher. The husband at once took the bagpipe which had been bought of\nScarpafico, and blew into them as Scarpafico had done in hopes of\nreviving her; but he spent his wind to no purpose, for the poor woman\nhad verily passed from this life to the next. When the second thief saw\nwhat his comrade had done, he cried out, \u2018What a fool you are! you have\nbungled the affair. Wait and see how I do it.\u2019 And with these words he\nseized his own wife by the hair, and cut her throat with a razor. Then,\ntaking the bagpipe, he blew with all his might, but with no better\nresult than the first. The third fellow, who was standing by, nothing\ndaunted by the failure of the others, served his own wife in the same\nway to no better purpose; so the three were all alike wifeless. With\nhotter anger against Scarpafico than ever, they hurried to his house,\nresolved that this time they would pay no heed to his plausible tales,\nand seized him and thrust him into a sack, purposing to drown him in a\nneighbouring river. But as they bore him along something gave them an\nalarm, and they ran to hide themselves for a while, leaving Pre\nScarpafico in his sack by the wayside.\n\nThey had not been gone many minutes before a shepherd, driving his flock\nto pasture, went by; and, as he drew nigh, he heard a plaintive voice\nsaying, \u2018They want me to take her, but I will have none of her; for I am\na priest, and have no concern with such matters.\u2019 The shepherd stopped\nshort, somewhat frightened, because he could not discover whence came\nthe voice, which kept repeating the same words over and over again; but,\nhaving looked now here, now there, his eye at last fell on the sack in\nwhich Scarpafico was tied up. The shepherd opened the sack and let the\npriest come forth, demanding why he had been thus tied up, and what he\nmeant by the words he kept uttering. Whereupon Scarpafico declared that\nthe seigneur of the town insisted on marrying him to one of his\ndaughters, but that he himself had no stomach for the match, because,\nbesides being a priest, he was too old to wive. The shepherd, who, like\na simpleton, believed every word the cunning priest told him, at once\ncried out, \u2018Good father, do you think the seigneur would bestow her upon\nme?\u2019 \u2018I believe he would,\u2019 said Scarpafico, \u2018provided you get into this\nsack and let me tie you up.\u2019 The silly shepherd at once crept in, and\nScarpafico, having fastened the sack, got away from the place as quickly\nas he could, driving the poor shepherd\u2019s flock before him.\n\nWhen an hour or so had passed the three thieves returned, and, without\nexamining the sack, they bore it to the river and threw it in, thus\nsending the wretched shepherd to the fate they had destined for Pre\nScarpafico.\n\nThey then took their way homewards, and, as they were conversing, they\nperceived a flock of sheep grazing hard by, and at once began to scheme\nhow they might easiest carry off a couple of lambs. But when they drew\nanigh, judge their amazement at seeing Pre Scarpafico, whom they\nbelieved to be lying at the bottom of the river, tending the flock as a\nshepherd. As soon as they had recovered from their amazement, they\ndemanded of him how he had managed to get out of the river, and he\nstraightway answered: \u2018Away with you! you have no more sense than so\nmany jackasses. If you had thrown me a little farther into the stream, I\nshould have come back with ten times as many sheep as you see here.\u2019\nWhen the robbers heard this they cried out, \u2018Ah! Pre Scarpafico, will\nyou at last do us a good turn? Will you put us into sacks and throw us\ninto the river? Then, you see, we shall no longer have need to be\nfootpads and rascals, and will live as honest shepherds.\u2019 \u2018Well,\u2019\nanswered Scarpafico, \u2018I will do so much for you; indeed, there is no\nfavour in the world I would not grant you, on account of the love I bear\nyou;\u2019 and, having got three good sacks of strong canvas, he tied the\nthree thieves therein so firmly that there was no chance of their\ngetting out, and threw them into the river. Thus they went to the place\nwhich was their due, and Scarpafico went back to Nina with good store of\ngold and cattle, and lived many years in happiness and prosperity.\n\nCateruzza\u2019s tale gave great pleasure to all the company, and won high\npraise, especially the part of it which dealt with Pre Scarpafico\u2019s\ncunning scheme whereby, in exchange for the mule he gave away, he gained\nmuch money and a fine flock of sheep. Cateruzza then set forth her\nenigma:\n\n              A sturdy blacksmith and his wife,\n              Who lived a simple honest life,\n              Sat down to dine; and for their fare\n              A loaf and a half of bread was there.\n              But ere they finished came the priest,\n              And with his sister joined the feast.\n              The loaf in twain the blacksmith cleft,\n              So three half loaves for the four were left.\n              Each ate a half, each was content.\n              Now say what paradox is meant.\n\nThe solution of Cateruzza\u2019s enigma was, that the blacksmith\u2019s wife was\nthe priest\u2019s sister. When the husband and wife had sat down to their\nmeal, the priest came in and joined them, and then, apparently, there\nwere four of them, to wit, the blacksmith and his wife, and the priest\nand his sister; but in reality there were but three. As each one had a\nthird of the bread they were all contented. After Cateruzza had\nexplained her very ingenious enigma, the Signora gave the signal to\nEritrea to give them her story, and she forthwith began.\n\n\n\n\n                           THE FOURTH FABLE.\n\n  =Tebaldo, Prince of Salerno, wishes to have his only daughter Doralice\n      to wife, but she, through her father\u2019s persecution, flees to\n      England, where she marries Genese the king, and has by him two\n      children. These, having been slain by Tebaldo, are avenged by\n      their father King Genese.=\n\n\nI cannot think there is one amongst us who has not realized by his own\nexperience how great is the power of love, and how sharp are the arrows\nhe is wont to shoot into our corruptible flesh. He, like a mighty king,\ndirects and governs his empire without a sword, simply by his individual\nwill, as you will be able to understand from the tenour of the story\nwhich I am about to tell to you.\n\nYou must know, dear ladies, that Tebaldo, Prince of Salerno, according\nto the story I have heard repeated many times by my elders, had to wife\na modest and prudent lady of good lineage, and by her he had a daughter\nwho in beauty and grace outshone all the other ladies of Salerno; but it\nwould have been well for Tebaldo if she had never seen the light, for in\nthat case the grave misadventure which befell him would never have\nhappened. His wife, young in years but of mature wisdom, when she lay\na-dying besought her husband, whom she loved very dearly, never to take\nfor his wife any woman whose finger would not exactly fit the ring which\nshe herself wore; and the prince, who loved his wife no less than she\nloved him, swore by his head that he would observe her wish.\n\nAfter the good princess had breathed her last and had been honourably\nburied, Tebaldo indulged in the thought of wedding again, but he bore\nwell in mind the promise he had made to his wife, and was firmly\nresolved to keep her saying. However, the report that Tebaldo, Prince of\nSalerno, was seeking another mate soon got noised abroad, and came to\nthe ears of many maidens who, in worth and in estate, were no whit his\ninferiors; but Tebaldo, whose first care was to fulfil the wishes of his\nwife who was dead, made it a condition that any damsel who might be\noffered to him in marriage should first try on her finger his wife\u2019s\nring, to see whether it fitted, and not having found one who fulfilled\nthis condition\u2014the ring being always found too big for this and too\nsmall for that\u2014he was forced to dismiss them all without further parley.\n\nNow it happened one day that the daughter of Tebaldo, whose name was\nDoralice, sat at table with her father; and she, having espied her\nmother\u2019s ring lying on the board, slipped it on her finger and cried\nout, \u2018See, my father, how well my mother\u2019s ring fits me!\u2019 and the\nprince, when he saw what she had done, assented.\n\nBut not long after this the soul of Tebaldo was assailed by a strange\nand diabolical temptation to take to wife his daughter Doralice, and for\nmany days he lived tossed about between yea and nay. At last, overcome\nby the strength of this devilish intent, and fired by the beauty of the\nmaiden, he one day called her to him and said, \u2018Doralice, my daughter,\nwhile your mother was yet alive, but fast nearing the end of her days,\nshe besought me never to take to wife any woman whose finger would not\nfit the ring she herself always wore in her lifetime, and I swore by my\nhead that I would observe this last request of hers. Wherefore, when I\nfelt the time was come for me to wed anew, I made trial of many maidens,\nbut not one could I find who could wear your mother\u2019s ring, except\nyourself. Therefore I have decided to take you for my wife, for thus I\nshall satisfy my own desire without violating the promise I made to your\nmother.\u2019 Doralice, who was as pure as she was beautiful, when she\nlistened to the evil designs of her wicked father, was deeply troubled\nin her heart; but, taking heed of his vile and abominable lust, and\nfearing the effects of his rage, she made no answer and went out of his\npresence with an untroubled face. As there was no one whom she could\ntrust so well as her old nurse, she repaired to her at once as the\nsurest bulwark of her safety, to take counsel as to what she should do.\nThe nurse, when she had heard the story of the execrable lust of this\nwicked father, spake words of comfort to Doralice, for she knew well the\nconstancy and steadfast nature of the girl, and that she would be ready\nto endure any torment rather than accede to her father\u2019s desire, and\npromised to aid her in keeping her virginity unsullied by such terrible\ndisgrace.\n\nAfter this the nurse thought of nothing else than how she might best\nfind a way for Doralice out of this strait, planning now this and now\nthat, but finding no method which gained her entire approval. She would\nfain have had Doralice take to flight and put long distance betwixt her\nand her father, but she feared the craft of Tebaldo, and lest the girl\nshould fall into his hands after her flight, feeling certain that in\nsuch event he would put her to death.\n\nSo while the faithful nurse was thus taking counsel with herself, she\nsuddenly hit upon a fresh scheme, which was what I will now tell you. In\nthe chamber of the dead lady there was a fair cassone, or clothes-chest,\nmagnificently carved, in which Doralice kept her richest dresses and her\nmost precious jewels, and this wardrobe the nurse alone could open. So\nshe removed from it by stealth all the robes and the ornaments that were\ntherein, and bestowed them elsewhere, placing in it a good store of a\ncertain liquor which had such great virtue, that whosoever took a\nspoonful of it, or even less, could live for a long time without further\nnourishment. Then, having called Doralice, she shut her therein, and\nbade her remain in hiding until such time as God should send her better\nfortune, and her father be delivered from the bestial mood which had\ncome upon him. The maiden, obedient to the good old woman\u2019s command, did\nall that was told her; and the father, still set upon his accursed\ndesign, and making no effort to restrain his unnatural lust, demanded\nevery day what had become of his daughter; and, neither finding any\ntrace of her, or knowing aught where she could be, his rage became so\nterrible that he threatened to have her killed as soon as he should find\nher.\n\nEarly one morning it chanced that Tebaldo went into the room where the\nchest was, and as soon as his eye fell upon it, he felt, from the\nassociations connected with it, that he could not any longer endure the\nsight of it, so he gave orders that it should straightway be taken out\nand placed elsewhere and sold, so that its presence might not be an\noffence to him. The servants were prompt to obey their master\u2019s command,\nand, having taken the thing on their shoulders, they bore it away to the\nmarket-place. It chanced that there was at that time in the city a rich\ndealer from Genoa, who, as soon as he caught sight of the sumptuously\ncarved cassone, admired it greatly, and settled with himself that he\nwould not let it go from him, however much he might have to pay for it.\nSo, having accosted the servant who was charged with the sale of it, and\nlearnt the price demanded, he bought it forthwith, and gave orders to a\nporter to carry it away and place it on board his ship. The nurse, who\nwas watching the trafficking from a distance, was well pleased with the\nissue thereof, though she grieved sore at losing the maiden. Wherefore\nshe consoled herself by reflecting that when it comes to the choice of\nevils it is ever wiser to avoid the greater.\n\nThe merchant, having set sail from Salerno with his carven chest and\nother valuable wares, voyaged to the island of Britain, known to us\nto-day as England, and landed at a port near which the country was\nspread out in a vast plain. Before he had been there long, Genese, who\nhad lately been crowned king of the island, happened to be riding along\nthe seashore, chasing a fine stag, which, in the end, ran down to the\nbeach and took to the water. The king, feeling weary and worn with the\nlong pursuit, was fain to rest awhile, and, having caught sight of the\nship, he sent to ask the master of it to give him something to drink;\nand the latter, feigning to be ignorant he was talking to the king,\ngreeted Genese familiarly, and gave him a hearty welcome, finally\nprevailing upon him to go on board his vessel. The king, when he saw the\nbeautiful clothes-chest so finely carved, was taken with a great longing\nto possess it, and grew so impatient to call it his own that every hour\nseemed like a thousand till he should be able to claim it. He then asked\nthe merchant the price he asked for it, and was answered that the price\nwas a very heavy one. The king, being now more taken than ever with the\nbeautiful handicraft, would not leave the ship till he had arranged a\nprice with the merchant, and, having sent for money enough to pay the\nprice demanded, he took his leave, and straightway ordered the cassone\nto be borne to the palace and placed in his chamber.\n\nGenese, being yet over-young to wive, found his chief pleasure in going\nevery day to the chase. Now that the cassone was transported into his\nbedroom, with the maiden Doralice hidden inside, she heard, as was only\nnatural, all that went on in the king\u2019s chamber, and, in pondering over\nher past misfortunes, hoped that a happier future was in store for her.\nAnd as soon as the king had departed for the chase in the morning, and\nhad left the room clear, Doralice would issue from the clothes-chest,\nand would deftly put the chamber in order, and sweep it, and make the\nbed. Then she would adjust the bed-curtains, and put on the coverlet\ncunningly embroidered with fine pearls, and two beautifully ornamented\npillows thereto. After this, the fair maiden strewed the bed with roses,\nviolets, and other sweet-smelling flowers, mingled with Cyprian spices\nwhich exhaled a subtle odour and soothed the brain to slumber. Day after\nday Doralice continued to compose the king\u2019s chamber in this pleasant\nfashion, without being seen of anyone, and thereby gave Genese much\ngratification; for every day when he came back from the chase it seemed\nto him as if he was greeted by all the perfumes of the East. One day he\nquestioned the queen his mother, and the ladies who were about her, as\nto which of them had so kindly and graciously adorned his room, and\ndecked the bed with roses and violets and sweet scents. They answered,\none and all, that they had no part in all this, for every morning, when\nthey went to put the chamber in order, they found the bed strewn with\nflowers and perfumes.\n\n[Illustration: Doralice in the King\u2019s Chamber]\n\nGenese, when he heard this, determined to clear up the mystery, and the\nnext morning gave out that he was going to hunt at a village ten leagues\ndistant; but, in lieu of going forth, he quietly hid himself in the\nroom, keeping his eyes steadily fixed on the door, and waiting to see\nwhat might occur. He had not been long on the watch before Doralice,\nlooking more beautiful than the sun, came out of the cassone and began\nto sweep the room, and to straighten the carpets, and to deck the bed,\nand diligently to set everything in order, as was her wont. The\nbeautiful maiden had no sooner done her kindly and considerate office,\nthan she made as if she would go back to her hiding-place; but the king,\nwho had keenly taken note of everything, suddenly caught her by the\nhand, and, seeing that she was very fair, and fresh as a lily, asked her\nwho she was; whereupon the trembling girl confessed that she was the\ndaughter of a prince. She declared, however, that she had forgotten what\nwas his name, on account of her long imprisonment in the cassone, and\nshe would say nothing as to the reason why she had been shut therein.\nThe king, after he had heard her story, fell violently in love with her,\nand, with the full consent of his mother, made her his queen, and had by\nher two fair children.\n\nIn the meantime Tebaldo was still mastered by his wicked and treacherous\npassion, and, as he could find no trace of Doralice, search as he would,\nhe began to believe that she must have been hidden in the coffer which\nhe had caused to be sold, and that, having escaped his power, she might\nbe wandering about from place to place. Therefore, with his rage still\nburning against her, he set himself to try whether perchance he might\nnot discover her whereabouts. He attired himself as a merchant, and,\nhaving gathered together a great store of precious stones and jewels,\nmarvellously wrought in gold, quitted Salerno unknown to anyone, and\nscoured all the nations and countries round about, finally meeting by\nhazard the trader who had originally purchased the clothes-chest. Of him\nhe demanded whether he had been satisfied with his bargain, and into\nwhose hands the chest had fallen, and the trader replied that he had\nsold the cassone to the King of England for double the price he had\ngiven for it. Tebaldo, rejoicing at this news, made his way to England,\nand when he had landed there and journeyed to the capital, he made a\nshow of his jewels and golden ornaments, amongst which were some\nspindles and distaffs cunningly wrought, crying out the while, \u2018Spindles\nand distaffs for sale, ladies.\u2019 It chanced that one of the dames of the\ncourt, who was looking out of a window, heard this, and saw the merchant\nand his goods; whereupon she ran to the queen and told her there was\nbelow a merchant who had for sale the most beautiful golden spindles and\ndistaffs that ever were seen. The queen commanded him to be brought into\nthe palace, and he came up the stairs into her presence, but she did not\nrecognize him in his merchant\u2019s guise; moreover, she was not thinking\never to behold her father again; but Tebaldo recognized his daughter at\nonce.\n\nThe queen, when she saw how fair was the work of the spindles and\ndistaffs, asked of the merchant what price he put upon them. \u2018The price\nis great,\u2019 he answered, \u2018but to you I will give one of them for nothing,\nprovided you suffer me to gratify a caprice of mine. This is that I may\nbe permitted to sleep one night in the same room as your children.\u2019 The\ngood Doralice, in her pure and simple nature, never suspected the\naccursed design of the feigned merchant, and, yielding to the persuasion\nof her attendants, granted his request.\n\nBut before the merchant was led to the sleeping chamber, certain ladies\nof the court deemed it wise to offer him a cup of wine well drugged to\nmake him sleep sound, and when night had come and the merchant seemed\novercome with fatigue, one of the ladies conducted him into the chamber\nof the king\u2019s children, where there was prepared for him a sumptuous\ncouch. Before she left him the lady said, \u2018Good man, are you not\nthirsty?\u2019 \u2018Indeed I am,\u2019 he replied; whereupon she handed him the\ndrugged wine in a silver cup; but the crafty Tebaldo, while feigning to\ndrink the wine, spilled it over his garments, and then lay down to rest.\n\nNow there was in the children\u2019s room a side door through which it was\npossible to pass into the queen\u2019s apartment. At midnight, when all was\nstill, Tebaldo stole through this, and, going up to the bed beside which\nthe queen had left her clothes, he took away a small dagger, which he\nhad marked the day before hanging from her girdle. Then he returned to\nthe children\u2019s room and killed them both with the dagger, which he\nimmediately put back into its scabbard, all bloody as it was, and having\nopened a window he let himself down by a cord. As soon as the shopmen of\nthe city were astir, he went to a barber\u2019s and had his long beard taken\noff, for fear he might be recognized, and having put on different\nclothes he walked about the city without apprehension.\n\nIn the palace the nurses went, as soon as they awakened, to suckle the\nchildren; but when they came to the cradles, they found them both lying\ndead. Whereupon they began to scream and to weep bitterly, and to rend\ntheir hair and their garments, thus laying bare their breasts. The\ndreadful tidings came quickly to the ears of the king and queen, and\nthey ran barefooted and in their night-clothes to the spot, and when\nthey saw the dead bodies of the babes they wept bitterly. Soon the\nreport of the murder of the two children was spread throughout the city,\nand, almost at the same time, it was rumoured that there had just\narrived a famous astrologer, who, by studying the courses of the various\nstars, could lay bare the hidden mysteries of the past. When this came\nto the ears of the king, he caused the astrologer to be summoned\nforthwith, and, when he was come into the royal presence, demanded\nwhether or not he could tell the name of the murderer of the children.\nThe astrologer replied that he could, and whispering secretly in the\nking\u2019s ear he said, \u2018Sire, let all the men and women of your court who\nare wont to wear a dagger at their side be summoned before you, and if\namongst these you shall find one whose dagger is befouled with blood in\nits scabbard, that same will be the murderer of your children.\u2019\n\nWherefore the king at once gave command that all his courtiers should\npresent themselves, and, when they were assembled, he diligently\nsearched with his own hands to see if any one of them might have a\nbloody dagger at his side, but he could find none. Then he returned to\nthe astrologer\u2014who was no other than Tebaldo himself\u2014and told him how\nhis quest had been vain, and that all in the palace, save his mother and\nthe queen, had been searched. To which the astrologer replied, \u2018Sire,\nsearch everywhere and respect no one, and then you will surely find the\nmurderer.\u2019 So the king searched first his mother, and then the queen,\nand when he took the dagger which Doralice wore and drew it from the\nscabbard, he found it covered with blood. Then the king, convinced by\nthis proof, turned to the queen and said to her, \u2018O, wicked and inhuman\nwoman, enemy of your own flesh and blood, traitress to your own\nchildren! what desperate madness has led you to dye your hands in the\nblood of these babes? I swear that you shall suffer the full penalty\nfixed for such a crime.\u2019 But though the king in his rage would fain have\nsent her straightway to a shameful death, his desire for vengeance\nprompted him to dispose of her so that she might suffer longer and more\ncruel torment. Wherefore he commanded that she should be stripped and\nthus naked buried up to her chin in the earth, and that she should be\nwell fed in order that she might linger long and the worms devour her\nflesh while she still lived. The queen, seasoned to misfortune in the\npast, and conscious of her innocence, contemplated her terrible doom\nwith calmness and dignity.\n\nTebaldo, when he learned that the queen had been adjudged guilty and\ncondemned to a cruel death, rejoiced greatly, and, as soon as he had\ntaken leave of the king, left England, quite satisfied with his work,\nand returned secretly to Salerno. Arrived there he told to the old nurse\nthe whole story of his adventures, and how Doralice had been sentenced\nto death by her husband. As she listened the nurse feigned to be as\npleased as Tebaldo himself, but in her heart she grieved sorely,\novercome by the love which she had always borne towards the princess,\nand the next morning she took horse early and rode on day and night\nuntil she came to England. Immediately she repaired to the palace and\nwent before the king, who was giving public audience in the great hall,\nand, having thrown herself at his feet, she demanded an interview on a\nmatter which concerned the honour of his crown. The king granted her\nrequest, and took her by the hand and bade her rise; then, when the rest\nof the company had gone and left them alone, the nurse thus addressed\nthe king: \u2018Sire, know that Doralice, your wife, is my child. She is not,\nindeed, the fruit of my womb, but I nourished her at these breasts. She\nis innocent of the deed which is laid to her charge, and for which she\nis sentenced to a lingering and cruel death. And you, when you shall\nhave learnt everything, and laid your hands upon the impious murderer,\nand understood the reason which moved him to slay your children, you\nwill assuredly show her mercy and deliver her from these bitter and\ncruel torments. And if you find that I speak falsely in this, I offer\nmyself to suffer the same punishment which the wretched Doralice is now\nenduring.\u2019\n\nThen the nurse set forth fully from beginning to end the whole history\nof Doralice\u2019s past life; and the king when he heard it doubted not the\ntruth of it, but forthwith gave orders that the queen, who was now more\ndead than alive, should be taken out of the earth; which was done at\nonce, and Doralice, after careful nursing and ministration by\nphysicians, was restored to health.\n\nNext King Genese stirred up through all his kingdom mighty preparations\nfor war, and gathered together a great army, which he despatched to\nSalerno. After a short campaign the city was captured, and Tebaldo,\nbound hand and foot, taken back to England, where King Genese, wishing\nto know the whole sum of his guilt, had him put upon the rack, whereupon\nthe wretched man made full confession. The next day he was conducted\nthrough the city in a cart drawn by four horses, and then tortured with\nred-hot pincers like Gano di Magazza, and after his body had been\nquartered his flesh was thrown to be eaten of ravenous dogs.\n\nAnd this was the end of the impious wretch Tebaldo; and King Genese and\nDoralice his queen lived many years happily together, leaving at their\ndeath divers children in their place.\n\nAll the listeners were both amazed and moved to pity by this pathetic\nstory, and when it was finished Eritrea, without waiting for the\nSignora\u2019s word, gave her enigma:\n\n                I tell you of a heart so vile,\n                So cruel, and so full of guile,\n                That with its helpless progeny\n                It deals as with an enemy.\n                And when it sees them plump and sleek,\n                It stabs them with its cruel beak.\n                For, lean itself, with malice fell,\n                It fain would make them lean as well.\n                So they grow thin with wasting pain,\n                Till nought but plumes and bones remain.\n\nThe ladies and gentlemen gave various solutions to this enigma, one\nguessing this and another that, but they found it hard to believe there\ncould be an animal so vile and cruel as thus barbarously to maltreat its\nown progeny, but at last the fair Eritrea said with a smile, \u201cWhat cause\nis there for your wonder? Assuredly there are parents who hate their\nchildren as virulently as the rapacious kite hates its young. This bird,\nbeing by nature thin and meagre, when it sees its progeny fat and\nseemly\u2014as young birds mostly are\u2014stabs their tender flesh with its hard\nbeak, until they too become lean like itself.\u201d\n\nThis solution of Eritrea\u2019s pointed enigma pleased everybody, and it won\nthe applause of all. Eritrea, having made due salutation to the Signora,\nresumed her seat. Then the latter made a sign to Arianna to follow in\nher turn, and she rising from her chair began her fable as follows.\n\n\n\n\n                            THE FIFTH FABLE.\n\n  =Dimitrio the chapman, having disguised himself as a certain\n      Gramottiveggio, surprises his wife Polissena with a priest, and\n      sends her back to her brothers, who put her to death, and Dimitrio\n      afterwards marries his serving-woman.=\n\n\nWe often see, dear ladies, great inequality in the degree of mutual\nlove. How often will the husband love the wife entirely, and she care\nlittle for him; and, on the other hand, the wife will love the husband\nto find nothing but hatred in return. In conditions like these is born\nthe passion of sudden jealousy, the destroyer of all happiness,\nrendering a decent life impossible; likewise dishonourings and unseemly\ndeaths, which often shed deep disgrace over all our sex. I will say\nnothing of the headlong perils, of the numberless ills, into which both\nmen and women rush on account of this accursed jealousy. It would weary\nrather than divert you were I to recount them all to you one by one;\nbut, as it is my task to bring to an end this evening of pleasant\ndiscourse, I will tell you a story of Gramottiveggio, now told for the\nfirst time, and I believe you will gather therefrom no less pleasure\nthan edification.\n\nThe noble city of Venice, famed for the integrity of its magistrates,\nfor the justice of its laws, and as being the resort of men from every\nnation of the world, is seated on the bosom of the Adriatic sea, and is\nnamed the queen of cities, the refuge of the unhappy, the asylum of the\noppressed. Her walls are the sea and her roof the sky; and, though the\nearth produces nought, there is no scarcity of anything that life in a\ngreat city demands.\n\nIn this rich and magnificent city there lived in former days a merchant\nwhose name was Dimitrio, a good and trustworthy man of upright life,\nthough of low degree. He was possessed with a great desire of offspring,\nwherefore he took to wife a fair and graceful girl named Polissena, whom\nhe loved as dearly as ever man loved woman, letting her clothe herself\nso sumptuously that there was no dame in all the city\u2014save amongst the\nnobles\u2014who could outvie her in raiment, or in rings, or in pearls of\nprice. And besides he took care to let her have abundance of delicate\nvictuals, which, not being suitable to one of her humble degree, gave\nher the look of being more pampered and dainty than she should have\nbeen.\n\nIt chanced one day that Dimitrio, who on account of his business was\noften constrained to travel by sea, determined to take ship with a cargo\nof goods for Cyprus, and, when he had got ready his apparel and stocked\nthe house with provisions and everything that was needful, he left his\ndear wife Polissena with a fair and buxom serving-maid to bear her\ncompany, and set sail on his voyage.\n\nAfter his departure Polissena went on living luxuriously and indulged\nherself with every delicacy, and before very long found she was unable\nto endure further the pricks of amorous appetite, so she cast her eyes\nupon the parish priest and became hotly enamoured of him. The priest on\nhis part, being young, lively, and well-favoured, came at last to divine\nthe meaning of the glances Polissena cast towards him out of the corner\nof her eye, and, seeing that she was gifted with a lovely face and a\ngraceful shape, and further endowed with all the charms men desire in a\nwoman, he soon began to return her amorous looks. Thus love grew up\nbetween them, and many days had not passed before Polissena brought the\nyoung man privily into the house to take her pleasure with him. And\nthus, for the course of many months, they secretly enjoyed the delights\nof love in close embraces and sweet kisses, letting the poor husband\nfare the best he might in the perils of sea and land.\n\nNow when Dimitrio had been some time in Cyprus, and had made there a\nreasonable profit on his goods, he sailed back to Venice, and, having\ndisembarked, he went to his home and to his dear Polissena, who, as soon\nas she saw him, burst into tears, and when Dimitrio asked her the reason\nof her weeping, she replied, \u2018I weep because of some bad news which came\nto me of late, and also for the great joy I feel in seeing you again;\nfor I heard tell by many that all the ships which had sailed for Cyprus\nwere wrecked, and I feared sorely lest some terrible misadventure should\nhave overtaken you. But now, seeing you have by God\u2019s mercy returned\nsafe and sound, I cannot keep back my tears for the joy I feel.\u2019 The\nsimple Dimitrio, who had returned to Venice to make up\u2014as he thought\u2014to\nhis wife for the solitary time she had passed during his long absence,\ndeemed that the tears and sighs of Polissena sprang from her warm and\nconstant love for him; but the poor dupe never suspected that all the\nwhile she was saying in her heart, \u2018Would to Heaven that he had been\ndrowned at sea! for then I might the more safely and readily take my\npleasure with my lover who loves me so well.\u2019\n\nBefore a month had passed Dimitrio was forced to set out on his travels\nonce more, whereat Polissena was filled with joy greater than can be\nimagined, and forthwith sent word to her lover, who showed himself to be\nno less on the alert; and, when the settled hour for their foregathering\nhad come, he went secretly to her. But the comings and goings of the\npriest could not be kept secret enough to escape for long the eye of a\ncertain Manusso, a friend of Dimitrio, who lived just opposite.\nWherefore Manusso, who held Dimitrio in high esteem for that he was a\npleasant companion and one ever ready to do a friendly service, grew\nmightily suspicious of his young neighbour, and kept a sharp watch over\nher. When he had satisfied himself that, with a given sign at a certain\nhour, the door would always be opened to the priest, and that after this\nthe lovers would disport themselves with less circumspection than\nprudence demanded, he determined that the business, which was as yet a\nsecret, should not be brought to light so as to stir up a scandal, but\nto let his project have time to ripen by awaiting the return of\nDimitrio.\n\nWhen Dimitrio found himself at liberty to return home, he took ship, and\nwith a favourable breeze sailed back to Venice; and, having disembarked,\nwent straight to his own house and knocked at the door, thus arousing\nthe servant, who, when she had looked out of the window and recognized\nher master, ran quickly to let him in, weeping with joy the while.\nPolissena, when she heard her husband had returned, came downstairs\nforthwith, taking him in her arms and embracing and kissing him as if\nshe had been the most loving wife in the world. And because he was weary\nand altogether worn out by the sea voyage, he went to bed without taking\nany food, and slept so soundly that the morning came before he had taken\nany amorous pleasure with his wife. When the night had passed and full\ndaylight had come, Dimitrio awoke, and, having left the bed without\nbestowing so much as a single kiss upon his wife, took a little box, out\nof which he drew a few ornamental trinkets of no small value, which, on\nreturning to bed, he gave to his wife, who set little store by them,\nseeing that her thoughts were running upon another matter. Shortly after\nthis it happened that Dimitrio had occasion to go into Apulia to\npurchase oil and other merchandise, and, having announced this to his\nwife, he began to make ready for his journey. She, cunning and full of\nmischief, and feigning to be heartbroken at his departure, kissed him\nlovingly and besought him to tarry yet a few days longer with her; but\nin her heart of hearts she reckoned one day of his presence like a\nthousand, since it prevented her from taking her pleasure in the arms of\nher lover.\n\nNow Manusso, who had often espied the priest courting Polissena and\ndoing divers other things which it is not seemly to mention, felt that\nhe would be working his friend a wrong if he should not now let him know\nall that he had seen. Therefore he determined, come what might, to tell\nhim all. So, having invited him one day to dinner, he said to him as\nthey sat at table, \u2018Dimitrio, my friend, you know, if I am not mistaken,\nthat I have always held, and shall ever hold you in great affection, so\nlong as there is breath in my body; nor could you name any task, however\ndifficult, which I would not undertake for the love I bear you; and, if\nyou would not take it ill, I could tell you of certain matters which\nmight annoy you rather than please you, but I fear to speak lest thereby\nI should disturb your peace of mind. Nevertheless, if you will take\nit\u2014as I hope you will\u2014circumspectly and prudently, you will not let your\nanger get the mastery over you, and thus blind your eyes to the truth.\u2019\n\u2018Know you not,\u2019 answered Dimitrio, \u2018that you may say to me anything you\nplease? If you have, by any mischance, killed a man, tell me, and do not\ndoubt my fidelity.\u2019 Manusso answered, \u2018I have killed nobody, but I have\nseen another man slay your honour and your good name.\u2019 \u2018Speak your\nmeaning clearly,\u2019 said Dimitrio, \u2018and do not beat about the bush with\nambiguous words.\u2019 \u2018Do you wish me to tell it you briefly?\u2019 asked\nManusso; \u2018then listen and hear patiently what I have to say. Polissena\nyour wife, whom you hold so dear, all the time you are away sleeps every\nnight with a priest and takes her pleasure with him.\u2019 \u2018How can this be\npossible,\u2019 said Dimitrio, \u2018seeing that she loves me so tenderly, never\nfailing when I leave her to shed floods of tears on my bosom and to fill\nthe air with her sighs? If I were to behold this thing with my own eyes\nI would not believe it.\u2019 \u2018If you are wise, as I believe you to be,\u2019 said\nManusso, \u2018if there is any reason in you, you will not shut your eyes, as\nis the way with so many simpletons and fools. I will let you see with\nyour eyes and touch with your hands all that I have told you; then you\nmay be convinced.\u2019 \u2018Then,\u2019 said Dimitrio, \u2018I shall be content to do\nwhatever you may direct me in order to let you show me all you have\npromised.\u2019 Then Manusso replied, \u2018But you must take care to keep your\nsecret and put a good face on the matter, otherwise you will wreck the\nwhole plot.[21] When next you have to go abroad, make believe to set\nsail, but in lieu of quitting Venice come to my lodgings as secretly as\nyou can, and I will clear up the mystery for you.\u2019\n\nWhen the day came for Dimitrio to start on his journey he embraced his\nwife tenderly, while he bade her take good care of the house, and having\ntaken leave of her feigned to go on board his ship, but turned and\nwithdrew secretly to the lodging of Manusso. By chance it happened that,\nbefore two o\u2019clock had struck, a terrible storm came on, with rain so\nheavy that it seemed as if the heavens themselves were broken up, and\nthe rain ceased not all through the night. The priest, who had already\nbeen advertised of the departure of Dimitrio, and cared neither for wind\nnor rain, was waiting for the hour of assignation. When he gave the sign\nthe door was opened to him, and, as soon as he was inside, Polissena\ngreeted him with sweet and passionate kisses; while the husband, who was\nconcealed in a passage over the way, saw all that went on, and, being no\nlonger able to contradict his friend\u2019s assertion, was altogether\noverwhelmed, and burst into tears on account of the righteous grief\nwhich possessed him. Then said his friend to him, \u2018Now what do you\nthink? Have you not seen something you would never have believed? But\nsay not a word and keep yourself cool, for if you listen to what I have\nto say, and do exactly what I shall direct you, you shall see something\nmore. Take off the clothes you are now wearing, and put on some beggar\u2019s\nrags, and smear your face and your hands with dirt; then go over to your\nown house as a beggar, and in a counterfeited voice ask for a night\u2019s\nlodging. Most likely the servant, seeing how bad a night it is, will\ntake pity on you and take you in; and if you do this, you will probably\nsee something else you would rather not see.\u2019\n\nDimitrio, having listened to his friend\u2019s counsel, took off his clothes\nand put on instead the rags of a poor man who had come to the house and\nasked for lodging in God\u2019s name, and, although it still rained smartly,\nhe went over to the door of his own house, at which he knocked thrice,\nweeping and groaning bitterly the while. The serving-maid having opened\nthe window, cried out who was there, and Dimitrio, in a broken and\nfeigned voice, replied that it was a poor old man, almost drowned by the\nrain, who begged a night\u2019s lodging. Whereupon the kindly girl, who was\njust as tender-hearted towards the poor and wretched as was her mistress\ntowards the priest, ran to Polissena and begged her to grant the\npetition of this poor man who was soaked with rain, and to give him\nshelter till he should be warm and dry. \u2018He can draw us some water,\u2019 she\nwent on, \u2018and make up the fire, so that the fowls may be the sooner\nroasted. Then I can prepare the soup, and get ready the spoons, and do\nother chores about the kitchen.\u2019 To this the mistress agreed, and the\ngirl, having opened the door, let him in and bade him sit by the fire\nand turn the spit. It happened that the priest and Polissena, who had in\nthe meantime been in the chamber, came down into the kitchen holding one\nanother by the hand, and at once began to make mock of the poor wight\nwith his dirty face. Going up to him Polissena asked what was his name.\n\u2018I am called Gramottiveggio, signora,\u2019 he replied; and Polissena when\nshe heard this began to laugh heartily, showing all her teeth so plainly\nthat a leech might have drawn any one of them. Then she threw her arms\nround the priest, crying out, \u2018Come, dear heart, and let me kiss you.\u2019\nAnd poor Dimitrio had to look on while they thus kissed and embraced\neach other. I leave you to fancy what he felt at seeing his wife kissed\nand fondled by a priest in his very presence.\n\nWhen the time had come for supper, the servant, when the lovers had sat\ndown, returned to the kitchen and said to the poor man: \u2018Well now,\nfather, I must just tell you that my mistress has for a husband as good\na man as you would find in all Venice, one who lets her want for\nnothing, and God only knows where the poor man is in this dreadful\nweather, while she, an ungrateful hussy, caring nothing for his person\nand less for his honour, has let herself be blinded by this lecherous\npassion\u2014always fondling this lover, and shutting the door to everybody\nbut him alone. But, I pray you, let us go softly to the door of the\nchamber; then you will see what they are doing, and how they bear\nthemselves at table.\u2019 And when they came to the door they espied the two\nlovers within, making good play with the viands, and carrying on all\nsort of amorous dalliance the while.\n\nWhen the hour of bedtime came, the two lovers retired to rest, and,\nafter a little playful pastime, began to sport in good earnest,[22] and\nmade so much ado that the poor Dimitrio, who was abed in a chamber\nadjoining, did not close his eyes all night, and understood completely\nwhat was going on. As soon as morning came he repaired to the lodgings\nof Manusso, who, as soon as he saw him, said, laughing, \u2018Well, friend,\nhow is the business going on? Is all you have seen to your taste?\u2019 \u2018No,\nindeed,\u2019 answered Dimitrio; \u2018I would never have believed it had I not\nseen it with my own eyes; but, patience! since my ill luck will have it\nso.\u2019 Then Manusso, who was a crafty fellow, said, \u2018My friend, I would\nhave you do what I shall tell you. Wash yourself well and put on your\nown clothes, and go straightway to your house, and make believe that by\ngreat good luck you had not embarked before the storm broke. Take good\ncare that the priest steal not away; for, as soon as you enter, he will\nassuredly hide himself somewhere, and will lie there till he can make\nhis retreat safely. Meantime, summon all your wife\u2019s relations to a\nbanquet at your house, and then, when you have dragged the priest from\nhis hiding-place in their presence, you can do anything else which may\nseem good to you.\u2019\n\nDimitrio was highly pleased at his friend\u2019s advice, and as soon as he\nhad stripped himself of his ragged clothes went over to his house and\nknocked at the door. The servant, when she saw it was her master, ran\nforthwith to Polissena, who was yet in bed with the priest, and said to\nher, \u2018Signora, my master is come back.\u2019 Her mistress, when she heard\nthese words, was beside herself with fright, and, getting up with what\ndespatch she could, she hid the priest, who was in his shirt, in the\ncoffer where she kept all her choicest raiment, and then ran in her\nfur-lined cloak, all shoeless as she was, to open the door to Dimitrio.\n\u2018My dear husband,\u2019 she cried, \u2018you are indeed welcome. I have not closed\nmy eyes for love of you, wondering always how fortune might be using\nyou, but God be praised for that you have come back safe and sound.\u2019\nDimitrio, as soon as he entered the chamber, said, \u2018Polissena, my love,\nI scarcely slept a wink last night on account of the bad weather, so\nthat now I would fain rest a little; and in the meanwhile let the\nservant go to your brothers\u2019 house and bid them dine with us to-day.\u2019 To\nthis Polissena replied, \u2018Would it not be better to wait till another\nday, seeing that it rains so heavily, and the girl is busy calendering\nour body linen and sheets and other napery?\u2019 \u2018To-morrow the weather will\nmend, and I shall have to set forth,\u2019 said Dimitrio. Polissena then\nsaid, \u2018But you might go yourself; or, if you are too weary, go ask your\nfriend Manusso to do you this service.\u2019 \u2018That is a good suggestion,\u2019\nsaid Dimitrio, and, having sent for his friend, he carried the affair\nout exactly as it had been settled.\n\nThe brothers of Polissena came, and they dined jovially together. When\nthe table was cleared, Dimitrio cried: \u2018Good brothers-in-law of mine, I\nhave never properly let you see my house, nor the fine apparel which I\nhave given to Polissena, my wife and your sister, so that you might\njudge therefrom how I treat her. Now go, Polissena, my good wife, get up\nand show your brothers over the house.\u2019 Dimitrio then rose and showed\nthem his storehouses full of wheat and timber and oil and other\nmerchandise, then casks of malvoisie and Greek wine and other\ndelicacies. Next he said to his wife: \u2018Bring out the rings and the\npearls which I have bought for you. Just look at these fine emeralds in\nthis little casket; the diamonds, the rubies, and other rings of price.\nDoes it seem to you, my brothers, that your sister is well treated by\nme?\u2019 \u2018We knew all this well, brother,\u2019 they replied, \u2018and if we had not\nbeen satisfied with your worth, we would not have given you our sister\nto wife.\u2019\n\nBut Dimitrio had not yet finished, for he next directed his wife to open\nall her coffers, and to bring out her fair raiment; but Polissena, her\nheart sinking with dread, replied, \u2018What need can there be to open the\ncoffers and show my clothes? Do not my brothers know well enough that\nyou always let me be attired full honourably\u2014more sumptuously indeed\nthan our station calls for?\u2019 But Dimitrio cried out, \u2018Open this coffer,\nand that, at once,\u2019 and when they were opened he went on showing all her\nwardrobe to her brothers.\n\nNow when they came to the last coffer the key of this was nowhere to be\nfound, for the good reason that the priest was hidden therein. Dimitrio,\nwhen he saw the key was not forthcoming, took up a hammer and beat the\nlock so lustily that it gave way, and then he opened the coffer.\n\nThe priest, shaking with fear, could in no way hide himself, or escape\nbeing recognized by all the bystanders. The brothers of Polissena, when\nthey saw how the matter stood, were so strongly moved by anger that they\nwere within a little of slaying her and her lover as well on the spot\nwith the daggers they wore, but the husband was averse to this course,\ndeeming it shameful to kill a man in his shirt, however stout a fellow\nhe might be. He spake to the brothers thus: \u2018What think ye now of this\ntrull of a wife of mine?\u2019 Then, turning to Polissena, he said: \u2018Have I\ndeserved such a return as this from you? Wretched woman! who has any\nright to keep me back from cutting your throat?\u2019 The poor wretch, who\ncould in no wise excuse herself, was silent, because her husband told\nher to her face all he had seen of her doings the night before so\nclearly that she could not find a word to say in her defence. Then,\nturning to the priest, who stood with his head bent down, he said: \u2018Take\nyour clothes and go quickly from this place, and bad luck go with you.\nLet me never see your face again, for I have no wish to soil my hands in\nyour accursed blood for the sake of a guilty woman. Now begone; why do\nyou tarry?\u2019 The priest, without opening his mouth, stole away, fancying\nas he went that Dimitrio and his brothers-in-law were close behind him\nwith their knives. Then Dimitrio, turning to his brothers-in-law, said:\n\u2018Take your sister where you will, for I will not have her before my eyes\nany longer.\u2019 And the brothers, inflamed with rage, took her out of the\nhouse and slew her forthwith. When news of this was brought to Dimitrio,\nhe cast his eyes on the serving-maid, who was indeed a very comely lass,\nand he bore in mind, moreover, the kind turn she had done him. So he\nmade her his wife. He gave her, likewise, all the jewels and raiment of\nhis first wife, and lived many years with her in joy and peace.\n\nAs soon as Arianna had brought her story to an end, the company with one\nvoice cried out that the worth and the constancy of the unlucky Dimitrio\nwas most noteworthy, even when he saw before his very eyes the priest\nwho had wrought him this dishonour, and quite as noteworthy was the\nterror of the culprit, who, clad only in his shirt, and seeing the\nhusband and brothers of his mistress close upon him, trembled like a\nleaf shaken by the wind. And then the Signora, perceiving that\ndiscussion on the matter promised to be overmuch, called for silence,\nand directed Arianna to give her enigma, whereupon she, with her\ngracious manner and pleasant smile, set it forth in these words:\n\n                 Three jolly friends sat down to eat,\n                 A merrier crew you could not meet.\n                 They tried and emptied every dish,\n                 For better fare they could not wish.\n                 The varlet next before them placed\n                 A dish with three fat pigeons graced.\n                 Each ate his pigeon, bones and all,\n                 But pigeons twain were left withal.\n\nThis enigma seemed to the company to be one very difficult to solve, and\nfinally it was judged to be impossible, for no one saw how, after each\nhad eaten his pigeon, two out of the three could remain on the board,\nbut they did not look for the snake which was hidden in the grass. When,\ntherefore, Arianna saw that the secret of her enigma had not been\ngrasped, and that the solution was impossible, she turned her fair and\ndelicate face towards the Signora and said: \u201cIt seems, dear lady, that\nmy enigma is not to be solved, and yet it is not so difficult but that\nit may be easily disentangled. The answer is this: Out of the three\njolly friends one bore the name of Each. As they sat together at the\nsame table they ate as if they had been famished wolves, and when, at\nthe end of the feast, the varlet brought them three roast pigeons, two\nout of the three revellers were so full that they could eat no more, but\nthe one whose name was Each finished his neatly, so there were two\npigeons left when they rose from the table.\u201d\n\nThe solution of this obscure riddle was greeted with great laughter and\napplause, for not one of the company could have solved it. Thus, the\nlast story of this present night having been told, the Signora directed\neveryone to go home to rest. And by the flare of torches, which shed\nover all the place a white light, the ladies and gentlemen were escorted\nto the landing-place.\n\n\n                     =The End of the First Night.=\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                          =Night the Second.=\n\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n   =The Fables and Enigmas of Messer Giovanni Francesco Straparola da\n                              Caravaggio.=\n\n\n\n\n                          =Night the Second.=\n\n\nPh\u0153bus had already plunged his golden wheels into the salt waves of the\nIndian ocean, his rays no longer gave light to the world, his horned\nsister now ruled the universe with her mild beams, and the sparkling\nstars had spread their fires thickly over the sky, when the courtly and\nhonourable company met once more at the accustomed spot. And when they\nhad seated themselves according to their rank, the Signora Lucretia gave\nthe word that they should observe, this night, the same order in their\nentertainment as hitherto. And, seeing that five of the damsels had not\ntold their stories, the Signora bade the Trevisan to write the names of\nthese on paper, then to place the billets in a golden vase, and to draw\nthem out one after another, as they had done last night. The Trevisan\nhastened to obey her command, and the first paper which was taken out of\nthe vase bore the name of Isabella, the second that of Fiordiana, the\nthird that of Lionora, the fourth that of Lodovica, and the fifth that\nof Vicenza. Then the flutes struck up a tune, and they all began to sing\nand dance in a circle, Antonio Molino and Lionora leading the revel; and\nthey all laughed so loud and heartily, that meseems the sound of their\nmerriment is still to be heard. And when the measure had come to an end\nthey all sat down, and the damsels sang a fair carol in praise of the\nSignora.\n\n                          SONG.\n              What once we sang we sing to-day,\n              And ever will we tune our lay,\n              To praise thee, lady, as the queen\n              Of beauty, and of all our bene;\n              The loftiest theme the poet sings,\n              The sweetest chord that shakes the strings,\n              The fairest shape the painter gives,\n              The peer of all in thee survives.\n\n              He who never owns the spell\n              Which moves us now thy praise to tell,\n              Wins no kindly word from me.\n              He the bliss shall never see\n              That flows on earth from faithful love,\n              And waits on spirits blest above.\n\nAt the close of this pleasant song Isabella, who had been chosen to\nbegin the entertainment of the second night, began to tell the story\nwhich follows.\n\n\n\n\n                            THE FIRST FABLE.\n\n  =Galeotto, King of Anglia, has a son who is born in the shape of a\n      pig. This son marries three wives, and in the end, having thrown\n      off his semblance, becomes a handsome youth.=\n\n\nFair ladies, if man were to spend a thousand years in rendering thanks\nto his Creator for having made him in the form of a human and not of a\nbrute beast, he could not speak gratitude enough. This reflection calls\nto mind the story of one who was born as a pig, but afterwards became a\ncomely youth. Nevertheless, to his dying day he was known to the people\nover whom he ruled as King Pig.\n\nYou must know, dear ladies, that Galeotto, King of Anglia, was a man\nhighly blest in worldly riches, and in his wife Ersilia, the daughter of\nMatthias, King of Hungary, a princess who, in virtue and beauty,\noutshone all the other ladies of the time. And Galeotto was a wise king,\nruling his land so that no man could hear complaint against him. Though\nthey had been several years married they had no child, wherefore they\nboth of them were much aggrieved. While Ersilia was walking one day in\nher garden she felt suddenly weary, and remarking hard by a spot covered\nwith fresh green turf, she went up to it and sat down thereon, and,\novercome with weariness and soothed by the sweet singing of the birds in\nthe green foliage, she fell asleep.\n\nAnd it chanced that while she slept there passed by three fairies who\nheld mankind somewhat in scorn, and these, when they beheld the sleeping\nqueen, halted, and gazing upon her beauty, took counsel together how\nthey might protect her and throw a spell upon her. When they were agreed\nthe first cried out, \u2018I will that no man shall be able to harm her, and\nthat, the next time she lie with her husband, she may be with child and\nbear a son who shall not have his equal in all the world for beauty.\u2019\nThen said the second, \u2018I will that no one shall ever have power to\noffend her, and that the prince who shall be born of her shall be gifted\nwith every virtue under the sun.\u2019 And the third said, \u2018And I will that\nshe shall be the wisest among women, but that the son whom she shall\nconceive shall be born in the skin of a pig, with a pig\u2019s ways and\nmanners, and in this state he shall be constrained to abide till he\nshall have three times taken a woman to wife.\u2019\n\nAs soon as the three fairies had flown away Ersilia awoke, and\nstraightway arose and went back to the palace, taking with her the\nflowers she had plucked. Not many days had passed before she knew\nherself to be with child, and when the time of her delivery was come,\nshe gave birth to a son with members like those of a pig and not of a\nhuman being. When tidings of this prodigy came to the ears of the king\nand queen they lamented sore thereanent, and the king, bearing in mind\nhow good and wise his queen was, often felt moved to put this offspring\nof hers to death and cast it into the sea, in order that she might be\nspared the shame of having given birth to him. But when he debated in\nhis mind and considered that this son, let him be what he might, was of\nhis own begetting, he put aside the cruel purpose which he had been\nharbouring, and, seized with pity and grief, he made up his mind that\nthe son should be brought up and nurtured like a rational being and not\nas a brute beast. The child, therefore, being nursed with the greatest\ncare, would often be brought to the queen and put his little snout and\nhis little paws in his mother\u2019s lap, and she, moved by natural\naffection, would caress him by stroking his bristly back with her hand,\nand embracing and kissing him as if he had been of human form. Then he\nwould wag his tail and give other signs to show that he was conscious of\nhis mother\u2019s affection.\n\nThe pigling, when he grew older, began to talk like a human being, and\nto wander abroad in the city, but whenever he came near to any mud or\ndirt he would always wallow therein, after the manner of pigs, and\nreturn all covered with filth. Then, when he approached the king and\nqueen, he would rub his sides against their fair garments, defiling them\nwith all manner of dirt, but because he was indeed their own son they\nbore it all.\n\nOne day he came home covered with mud and filth, as was his wont, and\nlay down on his mother\u2019s rich robe, and said in a grunting tone,\n\u2018Mother, I wish to get married.\u2019 When the queen heard this, she replied,\n\u2018Do not talk so foolishly. What maid would ever take you for a husband,\nand think you that any noble or knight would give his daughter to one so\ndirty and ill-savoured as you?\u2019 But he kept on grunting that he must\nhave a wife of one sort or another. The queen, not knowing how to manage\nhim in this matter, asked the king what they should do in their trouble:\n\u2018Our son wishes to marry, but where shall we find anyone who will take\nhim as a husband?\u2019 Every day the pig would come back to his mother with\nthe same demand: \u2018I must have a wife, and I will never leave you in\npeace until you procure for me a certain maiden I have seen to-day, who\npleases me greatly.\u2019\n\nIt happened that this maiden was a daughter of a poor woman who had\nthree daughters, each one of them being very lovely. When the queen\nheard this, she had brought before her the poor woman and her eldest\ndaughter, and said, \u2018Good mother, you are poor and burdened with\nchildren. If you will agree to what I shall say to you, you will be\nrich. I have this son who is, as you see, in form a pig, and I would\nfain marry him to your eldest daughter. Do not consider him, but think\nof the king and of me, and remember that your daughter will inherit this\nwhole kingdom when the king and I shall be dead.\u2019\n\nWhen the young girl listened to the words of the queen she was greatly\ndisturbed in her mind and blushed red for shame, and then said that on\nno account would she listen to the queen\u2019s proposition; but the poor\nmother besought her so pressingly that at last she yielded. When the pig\ncame home one day, all covered with dirt as usual, his mother said to\nhim, \u2018My son, we have found for you the wife you desire.\u2019 And then she\ncaused to be brought in the bride, who by this time had been robed in\nsumptuous regal attire, and presented her to the pig prince. When he saw\nhow lovely and desirable she was he was filled with joy, and, all foul\nand dirty as he was, jumped round about her, endeavouring by his pawing\nand nuzzling to show some sign of his affection. But she, when she found\nhe was soiling her beautiful dress, thrust him aside; whereupon the pig\nsaid to her, \u2018Why do you push me thus? Have I not had these garments\nmade for you myself?\u2019 Then she answered disdainfully, \u2018No, neither you\nnor any other of the whole kingdom of hogs has done this thing.\u2019 And\nwhen the time for going to bed was come the young girl said to herself,\n\u2018What am I to do with this foul beast? This very night, while he lies in\nhis first sleep, I will kill him.\u2019 The pig prince, who was not far off,\nheard these words, but said nothing, and when the two retired to their\nchamber he got into the bed, stinking and dirty as he was, and defiled\nthe sumptuous bed with his filthy paws and snout. He lay down by his\nspouse, who was not long in falling to sleep, and then he struck her\nwith his sharp hoofs and drove them into her breast so that he killed\nher.\n\nThe next morning the queen went to visit her daughter-in-law, and to her\ngreat grief found that the pig had killed her; and when he came back\nfrom wandering about the city he said, in reply to the queen\u2019s bitter\nreproaches, that he had only wrought with his wife as she was minded to\ndeal with him, and then withdrew in an ill humour. Not many days had\npassed before the pig prince again began to beseech the queen to allow\nhim to marry one of the other sisters, and because the queen at first\nwould not listen to his petition he persisted in his purpose, and\nthreatened to ruin everything in the place if he could not have her to\nwife. The queen, when she heard this, went to the king and told him\neverything, and he made answer that perhaps it would be wiser to kill\ntheir ill-fated offspring before he might work some fatal mischief in\nthe city. But the queen felt all the tenderness of a mother towards him,\nand loved him very dearly in spite of his brutal person, and could not\nendure the thought of being parted from him; so she summoned once more\nto the palace the poor woman, together with her second daughter, and\nheld a long discourse with her, begging her the while to give her\ndaughter in marriage. At last the girl assented to take the pig prince\nfor a husband; but her fate was no happier than her sister\u2019s, for the\nbridegroom killed her, as he had killed his other bride, and then fled\nheadlong from the palace.\n\nWhen he came back, dirty as usual and smelling so foully that no one\ncould approach him, the king and queen censured him gravely for the\noutrage he had wrought; but again he cried out boldly that if he had not\nkilled her she would have killed him. As it had happened before, the pig\nin a very short time began to importune his mother again to let him have\nto wife the youngest sister, who was much more beautiful than either of\nthe others; and when this request of his was refused steadily, he became\nmore insistent than ever, and in the end began to threaten the queen\u2019s\nlife in violent and bloodthirsty words, unless he should have given to\nhim the young girl for his wife. The queen, when she heard this shameful\nand unnatural speech, was wellnigh broken-hearted and like to go out of\nher mind; but, putting all other considerations aside, she called for\nthe poor woman and her third daughter, who was named Meldina, and thus\naddressed her: \u2018Meldina, my child, I should be greatly pleased if you\nwould take the pig prince for a husband; pay no regard to him, but to\nhis father and to me; then, if you will be prudent and bear patiently\nwith him, you may be the happiest woman in the world.\u2019 To this speech\nMeldina answered, with a grateful smile upon her face, that she was\nquite content to do as the queen bade her, and thanked her humbly for\ndeigning to choose her as a daughter-in-law; for, seeing that she\nherself had nothing in the world, it was indeed great good fortune that\nshe, a poor girl, should become the daughter-in-law of a potent\nsovereign. The queen, when she heard this modest and amiable reply,\ncould not keep back her tears for the happiness she felt; but she feared\nall the time that the same fate might be in store for Meldina as her\nsisters.\n\nWhen the new bride had been clothed in rich attire and decked with\njewels, and was awaiting the bridegroom, the pig prince came in,\nfilthier and more muddy than ever; but she spread out her rich gown and\nbesought him to lie down by her side. Whereupon the queen bade her to\nthrust him away, but to this she would not consent, and spoke thus to\nthe queen: \u2018There are three wise sayings, gracious lady, which I\nremember to have heard. The first is that it is folly to waste time in\nsearching for that which cannot be found. The second is that we should\nbelieve nothing we may hear, except those things which bear the marks of\nsense and reason. The third is that, when once you have got possession\nof some rare and precious treasure, prize it well and keep a firm hold\nupon it.\u2019\n\n[Illustration: The Pig Prince]\n\nWhen the maiden had finished speaking, the pig prince, who had been wide\nawake and had heard all that she had said, got up, kissed her on the\nface and neck and bosom and shoulders with his tongue, and she was not\nbackward in returning his caresses; so that he was fired with a warm\nlove for her. As soon as the time for retiring for the night had come,\nthe bride went to bed and awaited her unseemly spouse, and, as soon as\nhe came, she raised the coverlet and bade him lie near to her and put\nhis head upon the pillow, covering him carefully with the bed-clothes\nand drawing the curtains so that he might feel no cold. When morning had\ncome the pig got up and ranged abroad to pasture, as was his wont, and\nvery soon after the queen went to the bride\u2019s chamber, expecting to find\nthat she had met with the same fate as her sisters; but when she saw her\nlying in the bed, all defiled with mud as it was, and looking pleased\nand contented, she thanked God for this favour, that her son had at last\nfound a spouse according to his liking.\n\nOne day, soon after this, when the pig prince was conversing pleasantly\nwith his wife, he said to her: \u2018Meldina, my beloved wife, if I could be\nfully sure that you could keep a secret, I would now tell you one of\nmine; something I have kept hidden for many years. I know you to be very\nprudent and wise, and that you love me truly; so I wish to make you the\nsharer of my secret.\u2019 \u2018You may safely tell it to me, if you will,\u2019 said\nMeldina, \u2018for I promise never to reveal it to anyone without your\nconsent.\u2019 Whereupon, being now sure of his wife\u2019s discretion and\nfidelity, he straightway shook off from his body the foul and dirty skin\nof the pig, and stood revealed as a handsome and well-shaped young man,\nand all that night rested closely folded in the arms of his beloved\nwife. But he charged her solemnly to keep silence about this wonder she\nhad seen, for the time had not yet come for his complete delivery from\nthis misery. So when he left the bed he donned the dirty pig\u2019s hide once\nmore. I leave you to imagine for yourselves how great was the joy of\nMeldina when she discovered that, instead of a pig, she had gained a\nhandsome and gallant young prince for a husband. Not long after this she\nproved to be with child, and when the time of her delivery came she gave\nbirth to a fair and shapely boy. The joy of the king and queen was\nunbounded, especially when they found that the new-born child had the\nform of a human being and not that of a beast.\n\nBut the burden of the strange and weighty secret which her husband had\nconfided to her pressed heavily upon Meldina, and one day she went to\nher mother-in-law and said: \u2018Gracious queen, when first I married your\nson I believed I was married to a beast, but now I find that you have\ngiven me the comeliest, the worthiest, and the most gallant young man\never born into the world to be my husband. For know that when he comes\ninto my chamber to lie by my side, he casts off his dirty hide and\nleaves it on the ground, and is changed into a graceful handsome youth.\nNo one could believe this marvel save they saw it with their own eyes.\u2019\nWhen the queen heard these words she deemed that her daughter-in-law\nmust be jesting with her, but Meldina still persisted that what she said\nwas true. And when the queen demanded to know how she might witness with\nher own eyes the truth of this thing, Meldina replied: \u2018Come to my\nchamber to-night, when we shall be in our first sleep; the door will be\nopen, and you will find that what I tell you is the truth.\u2019\n\nThat same night, when the looked-for time had come, and all were gone to\nrest, the queen let some torches be kindled and went, accompanied by the\nking, to the chamber of her son, and when she had entered she saw the\npig\u2019s skin lying on the floor in the corner of the room, and having gone\nto the bedside, found therein a handsome young man in whose arms Meldina\nwas lying. And when they saw this, the delight of the king and queen was\nvery great, and the king gave order that before anyone should leave the\nchamber the pig\u2019s hide should be torn to shreds. So great was their joy\nover the recovery of their son that they wellnigh died thereof.\n\nAnd King Galeotto, when he saw that he had so fine a son, and a\ngrandchild likewise, laid aside his diadem and his royal robes, and\nadvanced to his place his son, whom he let be crowned with the greatest\npomp, and who was ever afterwards known as King Pig. Thus, to the great\ncontentment of all the people, the young king began his reign, and he\nlived long and happily with Meldina his beloved wife.\n\nWhen Isabella\u2019s story was finished, the whole company broke into\nlaughter at the notion of the pig prince, all dirty and muddy as he was,\nkissing his beloved spouse and lying by her side. \u201cBut let us give over\nlaughter,\u201d cried Signora Lucretia, \u201cin order that Isabella\u2019s enigma may\nbe given in due course.\u201d And forthwith Isabella, with a smile,\npropounded her riddle.\n\n                   I prithee, sir, to give to me,\n                   What never did belong to thee,\n                   Or ever will, what though thy span\n                   Of life exceed the wont of man.\n                   Dream not this treasure to attain;\n                   Thy longing will be all in vain;\n                   But if you deem me such a prize,\n                   And pine for me with loving eyes,\n                   Give me this boon, my wish fulfil,\n                   For you can grant it if you will.\n\nWhen Isabella had set forth her cunningly devised enigma, the listeners\nwere all in a state of bewilderment, for no one could understand how a\nman could give what he did not possess or ever could possess. But\nIsabella, when she saw that they were troubled overmuch, said, with much\ngood taste and judgment: \u201cThere is no reason for wonder, my good\nfriends, for a man certainly can give to a woman that which he has not\nor ever will have; that is to say, a man has no husband nor ever will\nhave one, but it is an easy matter for him to give one to a lady.\u201d The\nwhole company received this solution with much applause, and when\nsilence had once more been imposed on the assembly, Fiordiana, who sat\nnext to Isabella, arose from her seat and, smiling merrily, said:\n\u201cSignora, and you gentle folks all, does it not seem meet to you that\nSignor Molino, our good friend, should enliven this honourable company\nwith one of his merry conceits; and I say this, not because I want to\nescape the task of telling my own story (for I have ready more than\none), but because I feel that a tale, told with all his accustomed\npleasant grace and style, would, just now, give the company the greater\ndelight. He, as you well know, is ingenious and full of wit, and gifted\nwith all those good parts which pertain to a man of breeding. And as for\nourselves, dear ladies, it is better that we should ply our needles than\nbe always telling stories.\u201d\n\nAll agreed with these prudent and well-timed words of Fiordiana, and\nwarmly applauded them, and the Signora, casting her eyes towards Molino,\nsaid: \u201cCome, Signor Antonio, it is now your turn to enliven us with an\nexample of your graceful wit.\u201d And she signed to him to begin. Molino,\nwho had not reckoned on being named as a story-teller for this evening,\nfirst gave his thanks to Fiordiana for the flattering words she had\nspoken of him, and then in obedience to the Signora\u2019s direction began\nhis fable.\n\n\n\n\n                           THE SECOND FABLE.\n\n  =Filenio Sisterno, a student of Bologna, having been tricked by\n      certain ladies, takes his revenge upon them at a feast to which he\n      has bidden them.=\n\n\nI should never have believed or imagined that the Signora would have\nlaid upon me the task of telling a story, seeing that in the due order\nof things we should call upon Signora Fiordiana to give us one. But\nsince it is the pleasure of the company, I will take upon myself to tell\nyou something which may peradventure fit in with your humour. But if by\nchance my narrative (which God forbid) should prove tiresome to you, or\nshould overstep the bounds of civility, I must crave your indulgence\ntherefor, and that the blame may be laid on Signora Fiordiana, to whom\nit is in fact due.\n\nIn Bologna, the chief city of Lombardy, the parent of learning, and a\nplace furnished with everything needful for its high and flourishing\nestate, there lived a young scholar of graceful and amiable parts named\nFilenio Sisterno, born in the island of Crete. It chanced one day that a\nmagnificent feast was given, to which were invited the most beautiful\nand distinguished ladies of Bologna, and many gentlemen, and certain of\nthe scholars, amongst whom was Filenio. After the manner of gallants, he\nwent dallying now with this and now with that fair dame, and finding no\ndifficulty in suiting his taste, resolved to lead out one of them for a\ndance. His choice fell upon the Signora Emerentiana, the wife of a\ncertain Messer Lamberto Bentivogli, and she, who was very gracious, and\nno less sprightly than beautiful, did not say him nay. During the dance,\nwhich Filenio took care should be very gentle and slow, he wrung her\nhand softly, and thus addressed her in a whisper: \u2018Ah! Signora, how\ngreat is your beauty; surely it transcends any that has yet met my eye;\nsurely the lady does not live who could ensnare my heart as you have\nensnared it. If only I might hope you would give me back the like, I\nshould be the happiest man in the world; but if you should prove cruel,\nyou will soon see me lying dead at your feet, and know yourself as the\ncause of my bane. Seeing that I love you so entirely\u2014and indeed I could\ndo no other thing\u2014you ought to take me for your servant, disposing both\nof my person and of the little I can call mine as if they were your own.\nHigher favour from heaven I could not obtain than to find myself subject\nto such a mistress, who has taken me in the snare of love as if I had\nbeen a bird.\u2019 Emerentiana, while she listened earnestly to these sweet\nand gracious speeches, like a modest gentlewoman made as though she had\nno ears, and held her peace. When the measure had come to an end,\nEmerentiana sat down, and straightway Filenio led out another lady as\nhis partner, but the dance had scarcely begun before he began to address\nher in like fashion: \u2018Of a truth, most gracious Signora, there is no\nneed for me to waste words in setting forth how deep and ardent is the\nlove I have for you, and ever shall have, so long as this soul of mine\ninhabits and rules my unworthy frame. And I would hold myself blest\nindeed if I could possess you as the lady of my heart and my peculiar\nmistress. Therefore, loving you as I do, and being wholly yours, as you\nmay easily understand, I beg you will deign to take me for your most\nhumble servant, seeing that my life and everything I have to live for\ndepends on you and on no other.\u2019 The young lady, whose name was\nPanthemia, although she understood all this, made no reply, but modestly\nwent on with the dance, and, when it had come to an end, she sat down\nwith the other ladies, smiling a little the while.\n\nBut short time had passed before the gallant scholar took a third\npartner by the hand; this time the most seemly, the most gracious, and\nthe fairest lady in Bologna, and began to tread a measure with her,\nmaking all those who pressed round to admire her, give way; and before\nthe dance was ended he thus addressed her: \u2018Most estimable lady, perhaps\nI shall seem to you out of measure presumptuous to reveal the secret\nlove which I have borne, and still bear towards you, but for this\noffence blame not me, but your own beauty, which raises you high above\nall others, and makes me your slave. I speak not now of your delightful\nmanners, nor of your surpassing virtues, which are great enough and many\nenough to bring all the world to your feet. If then your loveliness, the\nwork of nature, and owing nought to art, fascinates everyone, there is\nno wonder that it should constrain me to love you and to guard your\nimage in my inmost heart. I beseech you then, sweet lady, the one\ncomfort of my life, to spare some tenderness for one who dies for you a\nthousand times a day. If you grant me this grace I shall know I owe my\nlife to you; so to your kindness I now recommend myself.\u2019\n\nThe fair lady, who was called Sinforosia, when she heard the sweet and\nloving words which came from Filenio\u2019s ardent bosom, could not forbear\nsighing, but taking heed of her honour as a married woman she answered\nhim nought, and when the dance was come to an end returned to her seat.\n\nIt happened that all these three ladies found themselves sitting in a\nring close to one another, and disposed for sprightly talk, when\nEmerentiana, the spouse of Messer Lamberto, moved by jocund humour and\nnot by spite, said to her two companions, \u2018Dear friends, I have to tell\nyou of a diverting adventure which has this evening befallen me.\u2019 \u2018And\nwhat is it?\u2019 they inquired. Said Emerentiana, \u2018This evening, in the\ncourse of the dancing, I have gotten for myself a cavalier, the\nhandsomest, the trimmest, the most gracious you could find anywhere, who\nprotests himself to be so hotly inflamed with my beauty that he can find\nno rest day or night.\u2019 And word by word she related all that the scholar\nhad said to her. As soon as Panthemia and Sinforosia heard her story,\nthey told her that the same had happened to them, and before they left\nthe feast they had satisfied themselves that it was the same gallant who\nhad made love to all three of them. Wherefore they clearly comprehended\nthat the words of this gallant sprang not from loyal feeling, but from\ndeceit and feigning of love, and they gave to them no more credence than\none is wont to give to the babblings of a sick man or to the romancer\u2019s\nfables, and they did not go from thence before they had agreed, each one\nof them, to put a trick upon him such as he would not readily forget;\nfor ladies, too, may play jokes. Filenio meantime was bent on amorous\ndesign, and went on making love now to one lady now to another. Judging\nfrom their carriage that they looked not unkindly upon him, he set\nhimself the task, if it were possible, of moving each one of them to\ngrant him the supremest favour of love, but the issue of the affair was\nnot according to his desire, for all his schemes went astray.\n\nEmerentiana, who could no longer bear with the mock love-making of the\nsilly scholar, called to a pretty buxom handmaid of hers, and charged\nher to find some excuse for speaking with Filenio, in order to disclose\nto him the love which her mistress had conceived for him, and to let him\nknow that he might whenever he would spend a night with her in her own\nhouse. When Filenio heard this he was much elated, and said to the maid,\n\u2018Hasten home forthwith and commend me to your mistress, and tell her in\nmy behalf that she may expect me this evening at her house, provided\nthat her husband be not at home.\u2019 When this word had been brought to\nEmerentiana, she straightway caused to be collected a great store of\nprickly thorns, and having strewn these under the bed where she lay at\nnight, she awaited the coming of her gallant. When it had become dusk\nthe scholar took his sword and stole towards the house of his fancied\nmistress, and the door, when he had given the password, was immediately\nopened. Then, when the two had held some little converse and supped\ndaintily, they withdrew into the bedchamber for the night.\n\nScarcely had Filenio taken off his clothes to go to bed when Messer\nLamberto was heard without, and hereupon the lady, feigning to be at her\nwits\u2019 end where she should hide her lover, bade him get under the bed.\nFilenio, seeing how great the danger was, both to the lady and to\nhimself, made haste to betake himself thither, without putting on any\nmore clothes than the shirt he wore, and was in consequence so\ngrievously pricked by the thorns prepared for him that there was no part\nof his body, from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, which\nwas not running with blood. And the more he essayed in this dark hole to\ndefend himself from the pricks, the more grievously was he wounded, and\nhe dared not make a sound lest Messer Lamberto should hear him and slay\nhim. I leave you to figure in what plight the poor wretch found himself\nthat night, seeing that he dared not call out, though he was like to\nlose a good part of his breech through the torment he was suffering.\nWhen the morning was come, and the husband had left the house, the\nwretched scholar clothed himself as best he could, and made his way back\nto his lodging, bleeding and in great fear lest he should die. But being\nwell treated by his physician, he got well and recovered his former\nhealth.\n\nMany days had not passed before Filenio essayed another bout of\nlove-making, casting amorous eyes on the other two ladies, Panthemia and\nSinforosia, and went so far as to find one evening an occasion to\naddress Panthemia, to whom he rehearsed his continued woes and torments,\nand besought her that she would have pity upon him. Panthemia, who was\nfull of tricks and mischief, while feigning to compassionate him, made\nexcuse that it was not in her power to do his will; but at last, as if\nvanquished by his tender prayers and ardent sighs, she brought him into\nher house. And when he was undressed, and ready to go to bed with her,\nshe bade him go into a cabinet adjacent, where she kept her orange water\nand perfumes, to the intent that he might well perfume his person, and\nthen get to bed. The scholar, never suspecting the cunning of this\nmischief-working dame, entered the cabinet, and, having set his foot\nupon a board unnailed from the joist which held it up, he and the board\nas well fell down into a warehouse below, in which certain merchants\nkept their store of cotton and wool, and although he fell so far he\nsuffered no ill. The scholar, finding himself in this dark place, began\nto search for some ladder or door to serve his exit, but coming upon\nnone he cursed the hour and the place where he had first set eyes on\nPanthemia. The morning dawned at last, and then the unhappy wight began\nto realize by degrees the full treachery of Panthemia. He espied on one\nside of the storehouse certain outlets in the wall, through which\nstreamed in a dim light, and, finding the masonry to be old and\nmoss-grown, he set to work with all his strength to pull out the stones\nin the spot which had fallen most to decay, and soon made a gap big\nenough to let him out. And, finding himself in an alley, clad only in\nhis shirt, and stockingless, he stole back to his lodging without being\nseen of any.\n\nAnd next it happened that Sinforosia, having heard of the tricks which\nthe two others had played the scholar, resolved to treat him with a\nthird, no less noteworthy; so, the next time she saw him, she began to\nogle him with the tail of her eye, by way of telling him that a passion\nfor him was burning her up. Filenio, forgetting straightway his former\nmishaps, began to walk up and down past her house, and play the lover.\nSinforosia, when she saw from this that he was deeply smitten with love\nfor her, sent him a letter by an old woman to let him know that he had\nso completely captured her fancy by his fine person and gracious manners\nthat she could find rest neither night nor day, and to beg him that,\nwhenever it might please him, he would come and hold converse with her,\nand give her a pleasure greater than any other. Filenio took the letter,\nand having mastered the contents, was at once filled with more glee and\nhappiness than he had ever known before, clean forgetting all the tricks\nand injuries he had suffered hitherto. He took pen and ink, and wrote a\nreply, that, though she might be enamoured of him, he, on his part, was\njust as much in love with her, or even more, and that at any time she\nmight appoint he would hold himself at her service and commands. When\nshe had read this reply, Sinforosia made it her business to find full\nsoon an opportunity for the scholar to be brought to her house, and\nthen, after many feigned sighs, she said: \u2018O my Filenio, of a truth I\nknow of no other gallant who could have brought me into such plight, but\nyou alone; since your comeliness, your grace, and your discourse have\nkindled such fire in my heart that I burn like dry wood.\u2019 The scholar,\nwhile he listened, took it for certain that she was melting with love\nfor him, and, poor simpleton as he was, kept on some time bandying sweet\nand loving words with her, till it seemed to him that the time had come\nto go to bed and to lie down beside her. Then Sinforosia said: \u2018Before\nwe go to bed it seems meet that we should regale ourselves somewhat.\u2019\nAnd having taken him by the hand, she led him into an adjoining cabinet,\nwhere there was a table spread with sumptuous cakes and wines of the\nfinest, in which the mischievous dame had caused to be mingled a certain\ndrug, potent to send her gallant to sleep for a certain time. Filenio\ntook a cup and filled it with wine, and suspecting no fraud he emptied\nit straightway. Enlivened by the banquet, and having washed himself in\norange water and dainty perfumes, he got into bed, and then immediately\nthe drug began to work, and he slept so sound that even the uproar of\ngreat artillery would scarce have awakened him. Then, when Sinforosia\nperceived that he was in a heavy slumber and that the drug was doing its\nwork well, she called one of her maids, a strong wench whom she had made\nprivy to the jest, and the two of them took Filenio by the legs and\narms, and, having opened the door softly, they placed him in the street,\nabout a stone\u2019s cast from the house, and there left him.\n\nIt was about an hour before dawn when, the drug having spent its force,\nthe poor wretch came to himself, and, believing that he had been in bed\nwith the lady, found himself instead stockingless, and clad only in his\nshirt, and half dead with cold through lying on the bare ground. Almost\nhelpless in his arms and legs, he found it a hard matter to get on his\nfeet, and, when he had done so much, it was with difficulty that he kept\nfrom falling again; but he managed, as best he could, to regain his\nlodging and to care for his health. Had it not been for his lusty youth,\nhe would surely have been maimed for life; but he regained his former\nhealth, and when he went abroad again he showed no signs of remembering\nthe injuries and vexations which had been put upon him; but, on the\nother hand, he bore himself towards the three ladies as if he loved them\nas well as ever, and feigned, now to be enamoured of one, and now of\nanother. The ladies, never suspecting malice on his part, put a good\nface on the matter, and treated him graciously as if they were dealing\nwith a real lover. Filenio was many times tempted to give his hand free\nplay, and to mark their faces for them, but he prudently took thought of\nthe condition of the ladies, and of the shame that would be cast on him\nshould he offer violence to them, and restrained his wrath. Day and\nnight he considered how he might best wreak his vengeance on them, and\nwhen he could hit on no plan he was in great perplexity. But in the\ncourse of time he devised a scheme by which he might readily work his\npurpose, and fortune aided him to prosecute it as he had designed. He\nhired for himself in the city a very fine house, containing a\nmagnificent hall and many dainty chambers, and in this he purposed to\ngive a great and sumptuous feast, and to invite thereto a company of\ngentlefolk, Emerentiana, and Panthemia, and Sinforosia amongst the rest.\nThey accepted the scholar\u2019s invitation without demur, suspecting nothing\nsinister in the same, and when they were come to the feast the wily\nscholar led them with many courteous speeches into a room and begged\nthem to take some refreshment. As soon as the three ladies\u2014foolish and\nimprudent indeed\u2014had entered the room, Filenio locked the door, and,\nadvancing towards them, said: \u2018Now, my pretty ladies, the time is come\nfor me to take my revenge upon you, and to give you some repayment for\nall the ills you put upon me, just because I loved you so well.\u2019 When\nthey heard these words, they seemed more dead than alive, and began to\nrepent heartily that they had ever abused him, and at the same time to\ncurse their own folly in having trusted the word of one they ought to\nhave treated as a foe. Then the scholar with fierce and threatening\nlooks commanded them that they should, if they set any store on their\nlives, strip themselves naked, and the ladies, when they heard this\nspeech, exchanged glances one with the other and began to weep, begging\nhim the while, not only for the sake of love, but also for the sake of\nhis natural gentleness, that their honour might be left to them.\nFilenio, exulting in his deed, was exceedingly polite to them, but at\nthe same time informed them that he could not suffer them to remain\nclothed in his presence. Hereupon the ladies cast themselves down at\nFilenio\u2019s feet, and with piteous weeping humbly besought him not to be\nthe cause of so great shame to them. But he, whose heart was now grown\nas hard as a stone, cried out that what he would do to them was in no\nsense blameworthy: it was nothing but just revenge; so the ladies were\nforced to take off their clothes and to stand as naked as when they were\nborn, in which condition they appeared fully as fair as when apparelled.\nWhen this had come to pass even Filenio began to feel some pity for\nthem; but, remembering his recent wrongs, and the mortal perils he had\nundergone, he chased away his pitying humour and once more hardened his\nheart. He then craftily conveyed all the clothes and linen they had\nlately worn into a neighbouring cabinet, and bade them with threatenings\nall to get into one bed. The ladies, altogether astounded and shaking\nwith terror, cried out, \u2018Wretched fools that we are! What will our\nhusbands and our friends say when it shall be told to them that we have\nbeen found here slain in this shameful case?\u2019 The scholar, seeing them\nlying one by the other like married folk, took a large sheet of linen,\nvery white, but not fine enough to suffer their bodies to be seen and\nrecognized, and covered them therewith from head to foot; then he left\nthe chamber, locking the door behind him, to go and find the three\nhusbands, who were dancing in the hall. Their dance being finished,\nFilenio led them with him into the chamber where the ladies were lying\nin the bed, and said to them: \u2018Gentlemen, I have brought you hither for\nyour diversion, and to show you the prettiest sight you have ever seen;\u2019\nand, having led them up to the bed with a torch in his hand, he began\nsoftly to lift up the covering at their feet, and to turn it back so as\nto disclose the fair limbs beneath it as far as the knees, thus giving\nthe three husbands something wondrous fair to look upon. Next he\nuncovered them as far as their stomachs, which he then disclosed\nentirely by lifting the sheet in the same way. I leave you to imagine\nhow great was the diversion the three gentlemen got from this jest of\nFilenio\u2019s, also in what distressful plight these poor wretched ladies\nfound themselves when they heard their husbands join in mocking them.\nThey lay quite still, not daring even to cough, lest they should be\ndiscovered, while their husbands kept urging the scholar to uncover\ntheir faces; but he, wiser in other men\u2019s wrongs than in his own, would\nnot oblige them so far. Not content with this, he brought forth their\ngarments, which he showed to their husbands, who, when they looked\nthereon, were astonished and somewhat perturbed at heart, and, after\nexamining them closely, said one to another: \u2018Is not this the gown which\nI once had made for my wife?\u2019 \u2018Is not this the coif which I bought for\nher?\u2019 \u2018Is not this the pendant that she hangs round her neck? Are not\nthese the rings she wears on her fingers?\u2019\n\n[Illustration: The Scholar\u2019s Vengeance]\n\nAt last Filenio brought the three gentlemen out of the chamber, and bade\nthem, so as not to break up the company, to remain to supper. The\nscholar, learning that the supper was ready and everything set in order\nby the majordomo, gave the word for everyone to take his place. And\nwhile the guests were setting their teeth to work, Filenio returned to\nthe chamber where the three ladies were, and as he uncovered them said:\n\u2018Good evening, fair ladies; did you hear what your husbands were saying?\nThey are now without, waiting impatiently to see you. Get up; surely you\nhave slept enough; give over yawning and rubbing your eyes. Take your\nclothes and don them without delay, and go into the hall where the other\nguests await you.\u2019 With such words as these he mocked them; while they,\ndisconsolate and despairing, feared lest this adventure might come to\nsome fatal issue, and wept bitterly. At last, full of anguish and terror\nand looking for nothing less than death at his hands, they arose and\nturning to the scholar said to him: \u2018Filenio, you have taken more than\nvengeance upon us. Now nothing remains but for you to draw your sword\nand make an end of our lives, for we desire death beyond any other\nthing. And if you will not grant us this boon, at least suffer us to\nreturn unobserved to our homes, so that our honour may be saved.\u2019\n\nFilenio, seeing that he had carried the affair far enough, gave them\nback their garments, and directed them to clothe themselves quickly, and\nwhen this was done he sent them out of the house by a secret door, and\nthey went back to their homes. At once they laid aside their fine\nclothes, which they had lately worn, and put them away in their presses,\nand with great prudence sat down to work instead of going to bed. When\nthe feast had come to an end, the three husbands thanked the scholar for\nthe fine entertainment he had given them, and in particular for the\nsight of the beauties laid out for their benefit in the chamber,\nbeauties surpassing the sun himself, and, having taken leave of him,\nthey returned to their homes, where they found their wives sewing beside\nthe hearth. Now the sight of the clothes, and the rings, and the jewels,\nwhich the scholar had exhibited to them, had made them somewhat\nsuspicious; so each one now demanded of his wife where she had spent\nthat evening, and where her best garments were. To this questioning each\nlady replied boldly that she had not left the house that evening, and,\ntaking the keys of the coffers wherein was disposed her apparel, she\nshowed this to her husband, with the rings and other jewels which he had\ngiven her. When the husbands saw these they were silent, and knew not\nwhat to say, but after a little they told their wives word by word what\nthey had seen that evening. The ladies made as if they knew nothing of\nit, and, after jesting a little over the matter, they undressed and went\nto bed. And in after times Filenio often met the three ladies in the\nstreets, and would always inquire of them: \u2018Which of you was in the\ngreatest fear? and did I suffer most from your jests, or you from mine?\u2019\nBut they always held their eyes down on the ground, and said nothing.\nAnd in this fashion the scholar avenged himself as well as he could of\nthe tricks he had suffered, without violence or outrage.\n\nWhen they had listened to the story of Molino, the Signora and all the\nother ladies declared that the revenge, worked upon the three\ngentlewomen by the scholar for the tricks they had played him, was no\nless revolting than cowardly; but when they came to consider the severe\npunishment which the poor fellow had suffered in couching upon the\nthorns, and the danger of breaking his bones he had incurred in falling\ndown into the warehouse, and the biting cold he had been exposed to when\nlaid out in the open street to sleep upon the bare earth clad only in\nhis shirt, they admitted that his vengeance was no heavier than was due.\nThe Signora, though she had excused Fiordiana from telling her story in\ndue order, now demanded of her that she should at least give her enigma,\nwhich ought to have some reference to the story of the scholar; and she,\nin obedience to this word, said: \u201cSignora, it happens that the enigma\nwhich I have to submit to the company has nothing in keeping with deeds\nof grave and terrible vengeance such as the ingenious Signor Antonio has\nset forth in his fable, but at the same time it will be one which may be\nof interest to every studious youth.\u201d And without further delay she\npropounded her enigma:\n\n                 From two dead blocks a living man\n                 Gave life to one whose spirit ran\n                 To vivify another wight,\n                 Who thus from darkness rose to light.\n                 Two living ones together bide,\n                 The creature by the maker\u2019s side,\n                 And by the creature\u2019s radiance led,\n                 The master communes with the dead.\n\nThis subtle riddle of the Signora Fiordiana was interpreted in various\nwise, but not one of the company hit upon its exact meaning. And seeing\nthat Fiordiana kept on shaking her head at the essays made by the\ncompany, Bembo remarked with a quiet smile, \u201cSignora Fiordiana, it seems\nto me to be foolishness to waste our time in this fashion. Tell us what\nyou will, and we shall be contented.\u201d \u201cSince this noble company\ndecrees,\u201d replied Fiordiana, \u201cthat I should be my own interpreter, I\nwill gladly do this; not because I deem myself in any way competent for\nthis task, but because I wish to oblige all you here, to whom I am bound\nby so many kindnesses. My enigma shows simply a student who rises from\nbed early in the morning, and he, a living thing, by the working of two\ndead things, the flint and the steel, gives life to the dead tinder, and\nthis in its turn enlivens the dead candle. Thus the first living one,\nthe student, by the help of these other two living ones who lately were\ndead, sits down to converse with the dead, that is, with the books writ\nby learned men of times long past.\u201d The explication of this most\ningenious riddle by Fiordiana pleased the company greatly, and the\nSignora directed Lionora to begin her story at once.\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                            THE THIRD FABLE.\n\n  =Carlo da Rimini vainly pursues Theodosia with his love, she having\n      resolved to live a virgin. In striving to embrace her he meets\n      with divers misadventures, and is well beaten by his own servants\n      to boot.=\n\n\nDear ladies, the clever story just told to us by Molino has made me give\nup all thought of relating to you the one I had in my mind, and to offer\nin its place another which, if I am not mistaken, will be equally\npleasing to you ladies as Molino\u2019s was to the gentlemen. Mine will\ncertainly be shorter than his, and, I think I may say, more decent in\nthe subject it treats.\n\nI must tell you then that Carlo da Rimini\u2014as I think many of you\nknow\u2014was a man whose trade was fighting, a despiser of God, a blasphemer\nof the saints, brutal and a cutthroat, and at the same time given over\nto all kinds of effeminate luxury. So great indeed was his malignity and\nthe corruption of his nature, that his equal could not be found. Now in\nthe days when he was a handsome, seemly young man, it chanced that he\nbecame hotly enamoured of a certain maiden, the daughter of a poor\nwidow, who, though she was very poor and only contrived to find a living\nfor herself and her child with much difficulty, would rather have died\nwith hunger than have consented to live on the wages of her daughter\u2019s\nsin.\n\nThe maiden, whose name was Theodosia, was very fair and graceful in her\nperson, and no less honest and discreet in her conduct; moreover, she\nwas of a prudent, sober temper, and had already determined to devote\nherself to the religious life and to prayer, holding all worldly things\nto be of small account. Carlo, therefore, burning with lascivious\npassion, was in the habit of molesting her with his attentions every\nday, and on any day when he might not chance to see her he was like to\ndie of vexation.\n\nWith flatteries and gifts and solicitations he made frequent trial to\nwin the maiden\u2019s consent to his wishes, but all his importunities were\nin vain; for, like a wise and good girl, she would have none of his\npresents, and every day she prayed to God to turn away from his heart\nthese dishonest wishes. At last there came a time when he could no\nlonger hold within bounds his ardent lust and bestial desire, and,\nfeeling gravely affronted at these continual rebuffs by one whom he\nloved more dearly than his own life, he made up his mind to ravish her\nand satisfy his lecherous appetite, let the consequence be what it\nmight. But he feared to stir up a commotion through any public scandal,\nlest the people, who held him in great hatred, should rise and slay him.\n\nBut at last, being overcome by his unbridled desire, with his mind\ndistempered with rage as if he had been a mad dog, he made a plan with\ntwo of his underlings\u2014desperate ruffians both of them\u2014to carry her off\nand then to ravish her. Therefore one day, when the evening dusk had\nfallen, he armed himself and went with the two desperadoes to the young\ngirl\u2019s dwelling-place, the door of which he found open; but before\nentering he charged his men to keep on the alert, and to take care, as\nthey valued their own lives, that no other person should enter the house\nor come out therefrom until he himself should rejoin them. The two\nruffians, who were full willing to obey their leader\u2019s behests, gave\nanswer that whatever he might command should be carried out.\n\nBut Theodosia (by some means unknown to me) had got tidings of Carlo\u2019s\nintent, and had shut herself up in a small kitchen, and Carlo, when he\nhad mounted the staircase of the poor little house, found there the old\nmother, who, suspecting nothing of any such surprise, had taken to her\nspinning. He demanded forthwith where was her daughter, for whom he had\nsuch great love and desire, and the poor old woman, as soon as she\nperceived that the young lecher was fully armed and manifestly more\ninclined to evil than to good, was greatly confounded in her mind, and\nher face became as white as the face of a corpse, and she was on the\npoint of screaming aloud; but, perceiving that her outcries would be of\nno use, she determined to hold her peace, and put her honour in the\nkeeping of God, whom she altogether trusted. So, plucking up her\ncourage, she turned to Carlo and said: \u2018Carlo, I know not what humour or\nwhat insolent spirit may have brought you here to defile the soul of\nthis girl, who desires to live honestly. If by chance you should be come\nwith righteous intent, then may God grant you fulfilment of every just\nand honourable wish; but if it should be otherwise, which God forbid,\nyou are guilty of a great wickedness in trying to attain by outrage that\nwhich can never be yours. Therefore, cast away and have done with this\nunbridled lust, and no longer strive to ravish from my daughter that\nwhich you can never give back to her, to wit, the chastity of her body.\nAnd the more you lust after her, the more she will hate you, seeing that\nher mind is firm set to dedicate herself to virginity.\u2019\n\nCarlo, when he heard these moving words spoken by the poor old mother,\ninstead of being awakened to pity or turned away from his evil intent,\nraged like a madman, and began to search for Theodosia in every corner\nof the house, without finding any trace of her, until he came to the\nlittle kitchen, where, seeing that the door was fast close, he thought\n(and thought rightly) that she must be concealed. Then, spying through a\ncrack in the door, he perceived Theodosia, who was at her prayers, and\nwith honeyed words he began to beseech her that she would open to him\nthe door, addressing her in these terms: \u2018Theodosia, life of my life, be\nsure that I am not come here to sully your honour, which is more dear to\nme than my own self and my own good name, but to take you as my wife,\nprovided that my offer be acceptable to you and to your good mother.\nAnd, beyond this, I swear I will have the life of anyone who may in any\nway affront your honour.\u2019\n\nTheodosia, who listened attentively to Carlo\u2019s speech, answered him\nstraightway in these terms: \u2018Carlo, I beseech you to give over this\nobstinate prosecution of your desire. I can never marry you, seeing that\nI have offered my virginal service to Him who sees and governs us all.\nAnd if cruel fortune should suffer you to defile violently this body of\nmine, at least you will have no power to blacken the purity of my soul,\nwhich from the hour of my birth I have dedicated to my Creator. God has\ngiven you freedom of will so that you may know the evil from the good,\nand may do that which seems best to you. Follow, therefore, after the\ngood, and you will be of good report, and turn aside from evil.\u2019 Carlo,\nwhen he found that his flattery availed him nothing, and that the maiden\nrefused to have aught to say to him, could no longer keep under the fire\nwhich was burning in his heart, and, more maddened than ever, trusted no\nlonger to words, but resorted to violence, bursting open by force the\ndoor, which, being none of the strongest, soon gave way as he willed.\n\nWhen Carlo entered the little kitchen and cast his eyes upon the maiden,\nso full of grace and fair beyond belief, his passion grew hotter than\never, and, thinking only of satisfying to the full his inordinate lust,\nhe threw himself upon her from behind, just as if he had been an eager\nfamishing greyhound, and she a timid hare. And the ill-fated Theodosia,\nwith her golden hair loose over her shoulders, and grasped tightly round\nthe neck by Carlo, grew pale, and felt so deadly a languor coming over\nher that she could scarcely move. Then she commended her soul to heaven\nand demanded help of God above, and scarcely had she finished her mental\nprayer, when, in miraculous wise, her body seemed to melt away out of\nCarlo\u2019s grip; and at the same time God dazzled so completely his\neyesight and understanding that he no longer knew rightly what were the\nthings around him, and while he deemed he was holding the maid in his\nembrace and covering her with kisses and endearments, he was, in sooth,\nembracing nothing better than the pots and pans, spits and cauldrons,\nand other kitchen gear lying about the place. Though his lust was in\nsome measure satisfied, he soon felt his wounded heart stirring again,\nand again he flew to embrace a huge kettle, fancying all the while that\nhe held in his arms the fair form of Theodosia. In thus handling the\nkettles and cauldrons his hands and face were so besmirched with soot\nthat he looked less like Carlo da Rimini than the devil. In the end,\nfeeling that his desire was for the nonce satisfied, and conscious that\nit was time to retreat, he made his way out by the staircase all\nblackened as he was, but the two ruffians, who were keeping guard near\nthe door lest anyone should enter or leave the house, when they saw him\nthus transformed, with his face all disfigured, and looking more like a\nbeast than a human being, imagined that he must be some ghost or evil\nspirit, and were fain to take to their heels and save themselves from\nthis monster. But having taken heart to stand up to him, and to look\nclosely into his face, which seemed to them mightily disfigured and\nugly, they began to drub him with cudgels and with their fists, which\nwere as hard as iron, so that they mangled cruelly his face and his\nshoulders with hearty goodwill, and left not a hair on his head. Not\ncontent with this, they threw him down on the ground, stripping off the\nclothes from his back, and dealing him as many kicks and cuffs as he\ncould endure, and the blows fell so thick and fast that Carlo had no\ntime allowed him to open his mouth and ask the reason of his cruel\nchastisement. Nevertheless, he made shift at last to break away from\ntheir hold, when he ran as for his life, always suspecting, however,\nthat the ruffians were close behind him.\n\nThus Carlo, having been soundly beaten[23] by his servants, his eyes\nbeing so discoloured and swollen from their lusty pummelling that he\ncould scarcely see, ran towards the piazza, clamouring and complaining\nloudly of the ill-handling he had got from his own men. The town-guard,\nwhen he heard these shouts and lamentations, went towards him, and,\nmarking his disfigured state and his face all bedaubed with dirt, took\nhim for a madman. And since no one recognized him, the whole crowd began\nto mock at him, and to cry: \u2018Give it to him, give it to him, for he is a\nlunatic.\u2019 Then some hustled him, others spat in his face, and others\ntook dust and cast it in his eyes; and they kept on maltreating him thus\nfor a good space of time, until the uproar came to the ears of the\npr\u00e6tor, who, having risen from his bed and gone to the window which\noverlooked the piazza, demanded what had happened to cause so great a\ntumult. One of the guards thereupon answered that there was a madman who\nwas turning the piazza topsy-turvy, and the pr\u00e6tor gave order that he\nshould be securely bound and brought before him, which command was\nforthwith carried out.\n\nNow Carlo, who up to this time had been the terror of all, finding\nhimself thus bound and ill-treated and insulted, without a notion as to\nthe cause of it, was utterly confounded in his mind, and broke out into\nso violent a rage that he wellnigh burst the bonds that held him. But as\nsoon as he was brought before the pr\u00e6tor, the latter recognized him\nstraightway as Carlo da Rimini, and at once set down the filthy\ncondition of his prisoner as the work of Theodosia, for he was privy to\nthe fact that Carlo was inflamed with passion for the girl. Therefore he\nat once began to use soft speech and to soothe Carlo, promising to make\nsmart sharply those who had brought upon him such a shameful mischance.\nCarlo, who suspected not that his face was like that of a blackamoor,\ncould not at first gather the purport of these words, but in the end,\nwhen it had been made known to him how filthy his condition was, how\nthat he resembled a brute beast rather than a man, he, like the pr\u00e6tor,\nattributed his discomfiture to Theodosia, and, letting his rage have\nfree course, he swore an oath that unless the pr\u00e6tor would punish her he\nwould take revenge by his own hand. When the morning was come, the\npr\u00e6tor sent for Theodosia, deeming that she had wrought this deed by\nmagic arts. But she gave good heed to the plight in which she stood, and\ncompletely realized the great danger thereof; so she betook herself to a\nconvent of nuns of holy life, where she abode secretly, serving God for\nthe rest of her days with a cheerful heart.\n\nIt happened after this that Carlo was sent to lay siege to a strong\nplace, and, when in the assault he pressed on to a more desperate essay\nthan he had power to accomplish, he found himself caught like a rat in a\ntrap; for, as he mounted the walls of the citadel to plant thereon the\nbanner of the Pope, he was smitten by a great stone, which crushed him\nand dashed him to pieces in such manner that no time was allowed to him\nto make his peace with heaven. Thus the wicked Carlo made a wretched end\nof his days, according to his deserts, without having plucked that fruit\nof love he desired so ardently.\n\nBefore Lionora had come to the end of her concisely-told fable, all her\ngood companions began to laugh over the stupidity of Carlo in kissing\nand embracing the pots and kettles, thinking all the while that he was\nenjoying his beloved Theodosia; nor did they make less merry in the case\nof the cuffs and blows he got from the hands of his own men in the rough\nhandling they gave him. And after a good spell of laughter Lionora,\nwithout waiting for further word from the Signora, set forth her enigma:\n\n                 I am fine and pure and bright,\n                 At my best am snowy white.\n                 Maid and matron scourge and flout me,\n                 Yet they cannot do without me,\n                 For I serve both young and old,\n                 Shield their bodies from the cold.\n                 A parent mighty mothered me,\n                 Mother of all mothers she.\n                 And, my time of service past,\n                 I\u2019m torn and beaten at the last.\n\nThis cleverly-worded enigma won the praise of all the company, but since\nit seemed to be beyond the power of anyone to solve it, Lionora was\nrequested to divulge its meaning; whereupon she said with a smile: \u201cIt\nis scarcely becoming that one of parts so slender as mine should presume\nto teach you, ladies and gentlemen, who are so much better versed in\nknowledge. But since this is your will, and since your will to me is\nlaw, I will tell you forthwith what I mean by my enigma. It means\nnothing else than linen cloth, fine and white, which is by ladies\npierced by scissors and needles, and beaten. And it serves as a covering\nto us all, and comes from the mother of us all, the earth; moreover,\nwhen it grows old we no longer send it to the fuller, but let it be torn\nup small and made into paper.\u201d\n\nEveryone was pleased with the interpretation of this clever enigma and\ncommended it highly. The Signora having already remarked that Lodovica,\nwho was chosen to tell the next story, was troubled with a bad headache,\nturned to the Trevisan and said, \u201cSignor Benedetto, it is indeed the\nduty of us ladies to provide the stories to-night; but seeing that\nLodovica is gravely troubled in her head, we beg you to take her place\nthis evening, and grant you free field to tell whatever may please you\nbest.\u201d To which speech the Trevisan thus replied: \u201cIt happens, Signora,\nthat I am little skilled in these matters; nevertheless (since your will\ncommands my entire obedience) I will use my best effort to satisfy you\nall, begging you at the same time to hold me excused if I fail therein.\u201d\nAnd having made due salutation, he rose from his seat and began his\nstory in the following words:\n\n\n\n\n                           THE FOURTH FABLE.\n\n  =The devil, having heard divers husbands railing over the humours of\n      their wives, makes trial of matrimony by espousing Silvia\n      Balastro, and, not being able to endure his wife for long, enters\n      into the body of the Duke of Malphi.=\n\n\nThe frivolity and want of judgment which nowadays is to be found amongst\nmost women (I speak of those who, without heed, give full licence to\ntheir eyes and fancy in straining to compass their unbridled lust),\noffers me occasion to tell to this noble concourse a story which may not\nbe familiar. And, although you may find it somewhat short, and ill put\ntogether, it may, nevertheless, serve as a wholesome lesson to you wives\nto be less irksome and exacting to your husbands than you have been\nheretofore. And if I seem to lay on the lash too heavily, blame not me,\nwho am but the humble servant of all you others, but make your complaint\nto the Signora, who, as you have heard, has given me leave to set before\nyou whatever story might commend itself to my taste.\n\nI will first tell you, gracious ladies, that many years ago the devil,\nbecoming weary of the unceasing and clamorous accusations made by\nhusbands against their wives, determined to test the truth of these by\nmaking trial of marriage himself, and, that he might the better compass\nthis design, he took the shape of a goodly young man of courtly manners,\nand well furnished with lands and gold, Pancrazio Stornello by name. As\nsoon as the bruit of his intention got abroad in the city, divers\nmatchmakers waited upon him with plentiful choice of comely women, well\ndowered, for his wife, and from amongst these he settled upon Silvia\nBalastro, a noble maiden. Never before had the city witnessed such\nmagnificent nuptials and rejoicings. The kinsfolk of the bride came from\nfar and near, and for the best man the bridegroom chose one Gasparino\nBoncio, a townsman of repute. A few days after the marriage the devil\naddressed Sylvia, saying, \u2018My dear wife, I need scarcely tell you that I\nlove you better than I love myself, seeing that I have already given you\nmany tokens of my affection; therefore, for the sake of this love of\nmine, I am about to beg of you a favour which will be easy for you to\ngrant, and most acceptable to me. This favour is nought else than that\nyou should demand of me all that you want now, and all that you will\never be likely to want, of raiment, jewellery, pearls, and other things\nof the same sort which ladies love; for I have determined, on account of\nthe great love I have for you, to give you all you may demand, though it\nmay cost a kingdom. I make but one condition, which is, that you shall\nnever trouble me about such matters again; so be careful that you get\nall you can possibly require for the rest of our married life, and be\ncareful likewise never to demand aught of me more, for you will ask in\nvain.\u2019 Silvia begged for time to consider this proposition, and, having\nbetaken herself to Signora Anastasia, her mother, a worldly-wise old\nlady, she laid bare the offer of her husband, and asked for advice\nthereanent. Anastasia, who knew well enough how to play a game of this\nsort, took pen and paper and wrote out a list of articles, such as would\nneed two days to describe by word of mouth, and said to Silvia, \u2018Take\nthis paper, and ask your husband to give you everything that is here\nwritten down. If he agrees, you may be well content with him.\u2019 Hereupon\nSilvia departed, and, having found her husband, she asked him to give\nher all that was written on the list, and he, when he had carefully read\nit over, said, \u2018Are you quite sure, dearest Sylvia, that you have put\ndown here all you want\u2014that there is nothing missing for which at some\nfuture time you may have to ask me? for I warn you that, if this should\nbe so, neither your prayers nor your sighs nor your tears will avail to\nget it for you.\u2019\n\nSilvia could think of nothing else to ask for, and agreed to the\nconditions of her husband, who at once commanded to be made vast store\nof rich vestments studded with big pearls, and rings and all sorts of\njewels the most sumptuous that were ever seen. And over and above these\nhe gave her coifs and girdles embroidered with pearls, and all manner of\nother dainty baubles which can be better imagined than described. When\nSilvia was arrayed in these, and conscious of being the best dressed\nwoman in the city, she became somewhat saucy. There was nothing else she\ncould ask her husband for, so well had he cared for her needs.\n\nIt chanced, soon after this, that the city was all agog concerning a\ngreat feast to which were bidden all the nobles of the place, and\namongst these was naturally included Silvia, who was amongst the most\nbeautiful and distinguished ladies in the city. And the more to honour\nthis festival, the other ladies met and devised all sorts of new\nfashions of dress, altering them so much that anyone accoutred in those\nin vogue heretofore would hardly have been recognized. There was no\nmother\u2019s daughter in the town\u2014just as if it had happened to-day\u2014who was\nnot bent on mounting the newest fashion to do honour to the festival,\nand each one vied to outdo the other in pomp and magnificence.\n\nWhen there came to Silvia\u2019s ears the news that the fashion of dress was\nto be changed, she was at once beset with fear that the store of raiment\nshe had lately received from her husband would be found of unfashionable\nshape and unfit to be worn at the feast, and, in consequence, fell into\na melancholy humour, neither eating nor sleeping, and making the house\nresound with her sighs and groans. The devil, who fathomed the trouble\nin his wife\u2019s heart, feigned to know nothing of it, and one day\naddressed her: \u2018What is troubling you, Silvia, that you look so unhappy?\nHave you no heart for the coming festival?\u2019 Silvia, seeing her\nopportunity, plucked up courage and said: \u2018What is the festival to me?\nHow can I go there in these old-fashioned clothes of mine? I am sure you\nwill not force me thither to be mocked at by the others.\u2019 Then said\nPancrazio to her: \u2018Did I not give you everything you would want for the\nrest of your days? How comes it that you now ask me for more after\nagreeing to the conditions I then made?\u2019 These words only made Silvia\nweep the more, and, bewailing her unhappy fate, cry out that she could\nnot go to the feast because she had no clothes fit to wear. Then said\nthe devil, \u2018I gave you at first all that was necessary for the rest of\nyour days, but I will once more gratify your wishes. You may ask of me\nfor anything you want, and your request shall be granted; but never\nagain. If, after this, you make a like petition, the issue will be\nsomething you will never forget.\u2019\n\nSilvia straightway put off her peevish humour, and wrote out another\nlist of braveries as long as the last, which Signor Pancrazio procured\nfor her without delay. In the course of time the ladies of the city once\nmore set to work to make another change in the fashion of dress, and\nonce more Silvia found herself clad in dresses of outworn cut. No other\nlady could boast of jewels so costly, or of robes of such rich and\nsumptuous web; but this was no solace to her, and she went mourning all\nday long, without daring to make another appeal to her husband, who,\nmarking her tristful face, and knowing well enough what was vexing her,\nsaid, \u2018Silvia, my love, why are you so sad?\u2019 Then she took courage and\nsaid, \u2018Is there not cause enough for me to be sad, seeing that I have no\nraiment in the new fashion, and that I cannot show my face amongst the\nother ladies of the city without their making a mock of me, and bringing\nreproach upon you as well as upon myself? and the respect and fidelity I\nhave towards you do not merit such a return of shame and humiliation.\u2019\nAt these words the devil was terribly wroth and said: \u2018What cause have\nyou for complaint? Have I not twice over given you all you have asked\nfor? Your desires are insatiable, and beyond my power to satisfy. I will\nonce more give you everything you may demand, but I will straightway go\naway and you will never see my face again.\u2019 The devil was as good as his\nword, and, after he had given Silvia a goodly store of new garments, all\nafter the latest fashion, he left her without taking leave of her, and\nwent to Malphi, where, for a diversion, he entered into the body of the\nduke and tormented him grievously.\n\nNow it chanced that, soon after this, Gasparino Boncio, the gallant who\nhad acted at Pancrazio\u2019s nuptials as best man, was forced to fly from\nhis city on account of some offence against good manners. Wherefore he\nbetook himself to Malphi, where he managed to live by gambling and by a\nlot of cunning tricks of which he was master, and rumour would have it\nthat he was a man of parts, though he was indeed nought but a sorry\nknave. One day, when at the cards with some gentlemen of the place, he\nwent a step too far, and roused their wrath so hotly that, but for fear\nof the law, they would certainly have made an end of him. One of these,\nsmarting under some special wrong, vowed that he would bring Master\nGasparino into such a plight as he would never forget. And forthwith he\nbetook himself to the duke, and, having made a profound obeisance, he\nsaid: \u2018Your excellency, there is in this town a man named Gasparino, who\nmakes boast that he can cast out evil spirits\u2014whether of this world or\nof the nether one\u2014which may have entered the bodies of men; therefore,\nmethinks, you would do wisely to bid him try his skill to deliver you\nfrom your torment.\u2019 On hearing these words the duke sent forthwith for\nGasparino, who, being summoned, went into the duke\u2019s presence at once.\n\n\u2018Signor Gasparino,\u2019 said the duke, \u2018they tell me you profess to be an\nexorcist of evil spirits. I, as no doubt you have heard, am sorely\ntormented by one of these, and I pledge my faith to you that, if you\nwill work your spells upon him and drive him out, I will deal with you\nso that you may live for the rest of your days free from care.\u2019\nGasparino was utterly confounded by this speech, and, as soon as the\nduke was silent, he began to stammer and to protest loudly that he knew\nnought of such matters, and had never boasted of any such power; but the\ngentleman, who was standing by, came forward and said: \u2018Do you not\nremember, Signor Gasparino, that, on a certain day, you told me this and\nthat?\u2019 Gasparino persisted in denying any such speech, and, while they\nwere wrangling together, the duke broke in and said: \u2018Come, come, hold\nyour peace, both of you! As for you, Master Gasparino, I give you three\ndays to work up your charms, and, if you can deliver me from this\nmisery, I promise you the most beautiful castle in my dominions, and you\nmay ask of me whatever you will. But, if you fail in this, before eight\ndays have passed I will have you strangled between two of these\ncolumns.\u2019\n\nGasparino, when he listened to the duke\u2019s command, was utterly\nconfounded and filled with grief, and, having withdrawn from the duke\u2019s\npresence, began to ruminate day and night as to how he might accomplish\nthe task laid upon him. On the day fixed for the incantation he went to\nthe palace, and, having ordered to be spread on the floor a large\ncarpet, began to conjure the evil spirit to come out, and to cease his\ntorment. The devil, who was quite at his ease in the duke\u2019s body, did\nnot reply, but breathed so strong a blast of wind through the duke\u2019s\nthroat that he was like to choke him. When Gasparino renewed his\nconjurations the devil cried out: \u2018My friend, you can enjoy your life;\nwhy can\u2019t you leave me at peace here, where I am very comfortable? Your\nmummery is all in vain.\u2019 And here the devil began to deride him. But\nGasparino was not to be daunted by this, and for the third time he\ncalled upon the devil to come out, asking him so many questions that at\nlast he got to know the evil spirit to be no other than his whilom\nfriend, Pancrazio Stornello. \u2018And I know you, too,\u2019 the devil went on;\n\u2018you are Gasparino Boncio, my very dear friend. Don\u2019t you remember those\nmerry nights we spent together?\u2019 \u2018Alas! my friend,\u2019 said Gasparino, \u2018why\nhave you come here to torment this poor man?\u2019 \u2018That is my secret,\u2019\nanswered the devil; \u2018why do you refuse to go away and leave me here,\nwhere I am more at my ease than ever I was before?\u2019 But Gasparino went\non with his questioning so long and so adroitly that he induced the\ndevil at last to tell him the story of his wife\u2019s insatiable greed, of\nthe violent aversion he had conceived for her thereanent, and how he had\nfled from her and taken up his abode in the body of the duke, and that\nno consideration would induce him to return to her. Having learnt so\nmuch, Gasparino said: \u2018And now, my dear friend, I want you to do me a\nfavour.\u2019 \u2018What may it be?\u2019 the devil inquired. \u2018Nothing more than to get\nyou gone from the body of this poor man.\u2019 \u2018Friend Gasparino,\u2019 quoth the\ndevil, \u2018I never set you down as a wise man, but this request of yours\ntells me you are a downright fool.\u2019 \u2018But I beg you, I implore you for\nthe sake of the merry bouts we have enjoyed together, to do as I ask,\u2019\nsaid Gasparino. \u2018The duke has heard that I have power to cast out\nspirits, and has imposed this task upon me. Unless I fulfil it I shall\nbe hanged, and you will be chargeable with my death.\u2019 \u2018Pooh!\u2019 said the\ndevil, \u2018our camaraderie lays no such duties upon me. You may go to the\nlowest depths of hell for all I care. Why didn\u2019t you keep your tongue\nbetween your teeth, instead of going about boasting of powers you do not\npossess?\u2019 And with this he roared most horribly, and threw the poor duke\ninto a fit which nearly made an end of him.\n\nBut after a little the duke came to himself again, and Gasparino thus\naddressed him: \u2018My lord, take courage; for I see a way of ridding you of\nthis evil spirit. I must ask you to command all the players of music in\nthe city to assemble at the palace to-morrow morning, and at a set\nmoment to strike their instruments, while the bells all ring loudly, and\nthe gunners let off their cannon as a sign of rejoicing for victory. The\nmore noise they make the better for my purpose. The rest you may leave\nto me.\u2019\n\nThe next morning Gasparino went to the palace, and duly began his\nincantations, and, as it had been settled, the trumpets and cymbals and\ntambours gave out their music, and the bells and artillery clanged and\nroared so loud and long that it seemed as if the uproar would never\ncease. At last the devil asked Gasparino, \u2018Isn\u2019t there a hideous medley\nof sound about the place? What is the meaning of it? Ah, I begin to hear\nit plain now!\u2019 \u2018Begin to hear it!\u2019 said Gasparino. \u2018Surely there has\nbeen clamour enough for the last half-hour to have deafened even you.\u2019\n\u2018I dare say,\u2019 the devil replied; \u2018but you must know that the bodies of\nyou mortals are gross and dull enough to shut out the sound from the\nhearing of one in my place; but, tell me, what is the reason of this\nnoise?\u2019 \u2018I\u2019ll tell you in a very few words,\u2019 said Gasparino, \u2018if in the\nmeantime you let the duke have a little ease.\u2019 \u2018It shall be as you\nwish,\u2019 said the devil. And then Gasparino brought out his story.\n\n\u2018You must know, my dear friend and former comrade,\u2019 he began, \u2018that it\nhas come to the duke\u2019s ears how you were forced to run away from your\nwife on account of the woes you suffered through her greed for attire,\nand he has in consequence invited her to Malphi. The noise you hear is\npart of the rejoicing of the city over her arrival.\u2019 \u2018I see your hand in\nthis, honest Signor Gasparino,\u2019 said the devil. \u2018Well, you have outdone\nme in cunning. Was there ever a loyal friend? Was I not right in\nbelittling the claims of comradeship? However, you have won the game.\nThe distaste and horror in which I hold my wife are so great that I will\ndo your bidding and betake myself elsewhere; indeed, rather than set\neyes on her again, I prefer to depart for the nethermost hell. Farewell,\nGasparino, you will never see me or hear of me again.\u2019\n\nImmediately after these words the poor duke began to throttle and choke,\nand his eyes rolled about in ghastly wise; but these frightful tokens\nonly gave warning that the evil spirit had at last taken flight. Nothing\nremained to tell of his presence save an appalling smell of sulphur.\nGradually the duke came to himself, and, when he had regained his former\nhealth, he sent for Gasparino, and, to prove his gratitude, gave him a\nstately castle, and a great sum of money, and a crowd of retainers to do\nhim service. Though assailed by the envy of certain of the courtiers,\nGasparino lived happily for many years; but Silvia, when she saw all the\ntreasures her husband had given her turn to smoke and ashes, lost her\nwits, and died miserably.\n\nThe Trevisan told his story with great wit, and the men greeted it with\nhearty applause and laughter; but the ladies demurred somewhat thereat,\nso that the Signora, hearing them murmuring amongst themselves while the\nmen kept on their merriment, commanded silence and directed the Trevisan\nto give his enigma, and he, without excusing himself to the ladies for\nthe sharp pricks against their sex dealt out in his story, thus began:\n\n                In our midst a being proud\n                Lives, with every sense endowed.\n                Keen his wit, though brainless he,\n                Reasoning with deep subtlety.\n                Headless, handless, tongueless too,\n                He kens our nature through and through.\n                Born but once and born for ever,\n                Death shall touch or mar him never.\n\nThe abstruse riddle of the Trevisan was no light task for the wit of the\ncompany, and it was in vain that each one essayed its unravelling. At\nlast the Trevisan, seeing that their guesses were all wide of the mark,\nsaid: \u201cIt does not seem meet for me to perplex any longer the ingenuity\nof this honourable company. By your leave I will now unfold its meaning,\nunless you had rather wait for some cunning wit to fathom it.\u201d With one\nvoice they prayed him to unveil its purport, and this he did in these\nterms: \u201cMy enigma signifies nothing else than the immortal soul of man,\nwhich, being spiritual, has neither head nor hands nor tongue, yet it\nmakes its working known to all, and, whether it be judged in heaven or\nin hell, lives eternally.\u201d This learned unfolding of the Trevisan\u2019s\nobscure riddle pleased the company vastly.\n\nInasmuch as the night was now far spent, and the clamour of the cocks\nforetelling the dawn was heard, the Signora made sign to Vicenza, who\nwas bespoken to tell the finishing story of the second night, to begin\nher task. But Vicenza, red in the face through choler at the Trevisan\u2019s\nstory, and not from bashfulness, cried out: \u201cSignor Benedetto, I looked\nfor a better turn from you than this, that you would aim at something\nhigher than the character of a mere railer against women; but since you\ntake so bitter a tone, meseems you must have been vexed by some lady who\nhas asked more of you than you could give. Surely you lack justice if\nyou judge us all alike; your eyes will tell you that some of us, albeit\nall of the same flesh and blood, are gentler and more worshipful than\nothers. If you rate us in such wise, wonder not if some day you find\nyour beauty marred by some damsel\u2019s finger-nails. Then you will sing\nyour songs in vain.\u201d\n\nTo her the Trevisan replied: \u201cI did not tell my story to hurt the\nfeelings of anyone, nor for spite of my own; but to give counsel and\nwarning to those ladies who may be going to marry, to be modest and\nreasonable in the calls they make on their husbands.\u201d \u201cI care nought\nwhat may have been your object,\u201d said Vicenza, \u201cnor do these ladies\neither; but I will not sit silent and let it be thought I allow these\ncharges of yours against women to have any worth. I will tell you a\nstory which you may find to be one for your own edification,\u201d and having\nmade obeisance she began.\n\n\n\n\n                            THE FIFTH FABLE.\n\n  =Messer Simplicio di Rossi is enamoured of Giliola, the wife of\n      Ghirotto Scanferla, a peasant, and having been caught in her\n      company is ill-handled by her husband therefor.=\n\n\nOne cannot deny, dear ladies, the gentle nature of love, but love rarely\naccords a happy issue to the enterprises it inflames us to undertake.\nAnd thus it fell out in the case of the lovesick Messer Simplicio di\nRossi, who, when he flattered himself that he was about to enjoy the\nperson of the woman he desired so ardently, had to fly from her laden\nwith as many buffets as he well could carry. All this history I will\nduly set forth, if, as is your gracious custom, you will lend your ears\nto the fable I purpose to relate to you.\n\nIn the village of Santa Eufemia, situated just below the plain of San\nPietro, in the territory of the famous and illustrious city of Padua,\nthere lived, some years ago, one Ghirotto Scanferla, a man rich and\ninfluential enough for a man in his station, but at the same time a\nfactious, wrangling fellow, and he had for a wife a young woman named\nGiliola, who, albeit that she was peasant born, was very fair and\ngraceful. With her Simplicio di Rossi, a citizen of Padua, fell\nviolently in love. Now it happened that he had a house which stood not\nfar removed from that of Ghirotto, and he was accustomed frequently to\nroam about the neighbouring fields with his wife, a very beautiful lady,\nwhom however he held in but little esteem, although she had many good\nqualities which ought to have bound him to her. So great was his passion\nfor Giliola that he got no rest day or night, but he let this passion\nlie closely hidden in his heart, partly because he feared lest he might\nin any way arouse the husband\u2019s wrath, partly on account of Giliola\u2019s\ngood name, and partly for fear of giving offence to his own wife. Now\nclose to Messer Simplicio\u2019s house there was a fountain from which gushed\nforth a stream of water, much sought by all the people round, and so\nclear and delicious that even a dead man might have been tempted to\ndrink thereof; and hither every morning and evening Giliola would\nrepair, with a copper pail, to fetch water for her household needs.\nLove, who of a truth spares nobody, spurred on Messer Simplicio in his\npassion; but he, knowing what her life was and the good name she bore,\ndid not venture to manifest his love by any sign, and simply sustained\nhimself and comforted his heart by gazing now and then upon her beauty.\nFor her part she knew nothing of all this, nor was she cognizant at all\nof his admiration; for, as became a woman of honest life, she gave heed\nto nothing else but to her husband and her household affairs.\n\nNow one day it happened that Giliola, when she went according to her\ncustom to fetch water, met Messer Simplicio, to whom she said, in her\nsimple, courteous way, as any woman might, \u2018Good morrow, Signor,\u2019 and to\nthis he replied by uttering the word \u2018Ticco.\u2019 His thought was to divert\nher somewhat by a jest of this sort, and to make her familiar with his\nhumour. She, however, took no heed thereof, nor said another word, but\nwent straightway about her business. And as time went on the same thing\nhappened over and over again, Simplicio always giving back the same word\nto Giliola\u2019s greeting. She had no suspicion of Simplicio\u2019s craftiness,\nand always went back to her home with her eyes cast down upon the\nground; but after a time she determined that she would tell her husband\nwhat had befallen her. So one day, when they were conversing pleasantly\ntogether, she said to him, \u2018Oh! my husband, there is something I should\nlike to tell you, something that perhaps will make you laugh.\u2019 \u2018And what\nmay this thing be?\u2019 inquired Ghirotto. \u2018Every time I go to the well to\ndraw water,\u2019 said Giliola, \u2018I meet Messer Simplicio, and when I give him\nthe good morning he answers to me \u201cTicco.\u201d Over and over again I have\npondered over this word, but I cannot get at the meaning thereof.\u2019 \u2018And\nwhat answer did you give him?\u2019 said Ghirotto, and Giliola replied that\nshe had answered him nothing \u2018Well,\u2019 said Ghirotto, \u2018take care that when\nhe next says \u201cTicco\u201d to you you answer him \u201cTacco.\u201d See that you give\ngood heed to this thing I tell you, and be sure not to say another word\nto him, but come home according to your wont.\u2019 Giliola went at the usual\ntime to the well to fetch the water, and met Messer Simplicio and gave\nhim good day, and he, as hitherto, answered her \u2018Ticco.\u2019 Then Giliola,\naccording to her husband\u2019s directions, replied \u2018Tacco,\u2019 whereupon Messer\nSimplicio, suddenly inflamed, and deeming that he had at last made his\npassion known to her, and that he might now have his will of her, took\nfurther courage and said, \u2018And when shall I come?\u2019 But Giliola, as her\nhusband had instructed her, answered nothing, but made her way home\nforthwith, and being questioned by him how the affair had gone, she told\nhim how she had carried out everything he had directed her to do; how\nMesser Simplicio had asked her when he might come, and how she had given\nhim no reply.\n\nNow Ghirotto, though he was only a peasant, was shrewd enough, and at\nonce grasped the meaning of Messer Simplicio\u2019s watchword, which\nperturbed him mightily; for it struck him that this word meant more than\nmere trifling.[24] So he said to his wife, \u2018If the next time you go to\nthe well he should ask of you, \u201cWhen shall I come?\u201d you must answer him,\n\u201cThis evening.\u201d The rest you can leave to me.\u2019\n\nThe next day, when Giliola went according to her wont to draw water at\nthe well, she found there Messer Simplicio, who was waiting for her with\nardent longing, and greeted him with her accustomed \u2018Good morning,\nSignor.\u2019 To this the gallant answered \u2018Ticco,\u2019 and she followed suit\nwith \u2018Tacco.\u2019 Then he added, \u2018When shall I come?\u2019 to which she replied,\n\u2018This evening.\u2019 \u2018Let it be so then,\u2019 he said. And when Giliola returned\nto her house she said to her husband, \u2018I have done everything as you\ndirected.\u2019 \u2018What did he answer?\u2019 said Ghirotto. \u2018He said he would come\nthis evening,\u2019 his wife replied.\n\nNow Ghirotto, who by this time had got a bellyful of something else\nbesides vermicelli and maccaroni, spake thus to his wife: \u2018Giliola, let\nus go now and measure a dozen sacks of oats, for I will make believe\nthat I am going to the mill, and when Messer Simplicio shall come, you\nmust make him welcome and give him honourable reception. But before\nthis, have ready an empty sack beside those which will be full of oats,\nand as soon as you hear me come into the house make him hide himself in\nthe sack thus prepared, and leave the rest to me.\u2019 \u2018But,\u2019 said Giliola,\n\u2018we have not in the house enough sacks to carry out the plan you\npropose.\u2019 \u2018Then send our neighbour Cia,\u2019 said the husband, \u2018to Messer\nSimplicio to beg him to lend us two, and she can also let it be known\nthat I have business at the mill this evening.\u2019 And all these directions\nwere diligently carried out. Messer Simplicio, who had given good heed\nto Giliola\u2019s words, and had marked, moreover, that she had sent to\nborrow two of his sacks, believed of a truth that the husband would be\ngoing to the mill in the evening, and found himself at the highest pitch\nof felicity and the happiest man in the world, fancying the while that\nGiliola was as hotly inflamed with love for him as he was for her; but\nthe poor wight had no inkling of the conspiracy which was being hatched\nfor his undoing, otherwise he would assuredly have gone to work with\ngreater caution than he used.\n\nMesser Simplicio had in his poultry yard good store of capons, and he\ntook two of the best of these and sent them by his body-servant to\nGiliola, enjoining her to let them be ready cooked by the time when he\nshould be with her according to their agreement. And when night had come\nhe stole secretly out and betook himself to Ghirotto\u2019s house, where\nGiliola gave him a most gracious reception. But when he saw the\noat-sacks standing there he was somewhat surprised, for he expected that\nthe husband would have taken them to the mill; so he said to Giliola,\n\u2018Where is Ghirotto? I thought he had gone to the mill, but I see the\nsacks are still here; so I hardly know what to think.\u2019 Then Giliola\nreplied, \u2018Do not murmur, Messer Simplicio, or have any fear. Everything\nwill go well. You must know that, just at vesper-time, my husband\u2019s\nbrother-in-law came to the house and brought word that his sister was\nlying gravely ill of a persistent fever, and was not like to see another\nday. Wherefore he mounted his horse and rode away to see her before she\ndies.\u2019 Messer Simplicio, who was indeed as simple as his name imports,\ntook all this for the truth and said no more.\n\nWhilst Giliola was busy cooking the capons and getting ready the table,\nlo and behold! Ghirotto her husband appeared in the courtyard, and\nGiliola, as soon as she saw him, feigned to be grief-stricken and\nterrified, and cried out, \u2018Woe to us, wretches that we are! We are as\ngood as dead, both of us;\u2019 and without a moment\u2019s hesitation she ordered\nMesser Simplicio to get into the empty sack which was lying there; and\nwhen he had got in\u2014and he was mightily unwilling to enter it\u2014she set the\nsack with Messer Simplicio inside it behind the others which were full\nof oats, and waited till her husband should come in. And when Ghirotto\nentered and saw the table duly set and the capons cooking in the pot, he\nsaid to his wife: \u2018What is the meaning of this sumptuous supper which\nyou have prepared for me?\u2019 and Giliola made answer: \u2018I thought that you\nmust needs come back weary and worn out at midnight, and, in order that\nyou might fortify and refresh yourself somewhat after the fatigues you\nso constantly have to undergo, I wished to let you have something\nsucculent for your meal.\u2019 \u2018By my faith,\u2019 said Ghirotto, \u2018you have done\nwell, for I am somewhat sick and can hardly wait to take my supper\nbefore I go to bed,\u2019 and moreover I want to be astir in good time\nto-morrow morning to go to the mill. But before we sit down to supper I\nwant to see whether the sacks we got ready for the mill are all in order\nand of just weight.\u2019 And with these words he went up to the sacks and\nbegan to count them, and, finding there were thirteen, he feigned to\nhave made a miscount of them, and began to count them over again, and\nstill he found there were thirteen of them; so he said to his wife:\n\u2018Giliola, what is the meaning of this? How is it that I find here\nthirteen sacks while we only got ready twelve? Where does the odd one\ncome from?\u2019 And Giliola answered: \u2018Yes, of a certainty, when we put the\noats into the sacks there were only twelve, and how this one comes to be\nhere I cannot tell.\u2019\n\nInside the sack, meantime, Messer Simplicio, who knew well enough that\nthere were thirteen sacks on account of his being there, kept silent as\na mouse and went on muttering paternosters beneath his breath, at the\nsame time cursing Giliola, and his passion for her, and his own folly in\nhaving put faith in her. If he could have cleared himself from his\npresent trouble by flight, he would have readily taken to his heels, for\nhe feared the shame that might arise thereanent, rather than the loss.\nBut Ghirotto, who knew well enough what was inside the sack, took hold\nof it and dragged it outside the door, which he had by design left open,\nin order that the poor wretch inside the sack, after he should have been\nwell drubbed, might get out of the sack and have free field to go\nwhithersoever he listed. Then Ghirotto, having caught up a knotty stick\nwhich he had duly prepared for the purpose, began to belabour him so\nsoundly that there was not a square inch of his carcass which was not\nthrashed and beaten; indeed, a little more would have made an end of\nMesser Simplicio. And if it had not happened that the wife, moved by\npity or by fear lest her husband should have the sin of murder on his\nsoul, wrenched the cudgel out of Ghirotto\u2019s hand, homicide might well\nhave been the issue.\n\nAt last, when Ghirotto had given over his work and had gone away, Messer\nSimplicio slunk out of his sack, and, aching from head to foot, made his\nway home, half dreading the while that Ghirotto with his stick was close\nbehind him; and in the meantime Ghirotto and his wife, after eating a\ngood supper at Messer Simplicio\u2019s cost, went to bed. And after a few\ndays had passed, Giliola, when she went to the well, saw Simplicio, who\nwas walking up and down the terrace in his garden, and with a merry\nglance greeted him, saying, \u2018Ticco, Messer Simplicio;\u2019 but he, who still\nfelt the pain of the bruises he had gotten on account of this word, only\nreplied:\n\n     Neither for your good morning, nor for your tic nor your tac,\n     Will you catch me again, my lady, inside your sack.\n\nWhen Giliola heard this she was struck silent, and went back to her\nhouse with her face red for shame, and Messer Simplicio, after the sorry\nusage he had received, changed his humour and gave the fullest and most\nloving service to his own wife, whom he had hitherto disliked, keeping\nhis eyes and his hands off other men\u2019s goods, so that he might not again\nbe treated to a like experience.\n\nWhen Vicenza had made an end of her story, all the ladies cried out with\none voice: \u201cIf the Trevisan treated badly the women he dealt with in his\nfable, Vicenza has in hers given the men yet worse measure in letting\nMesser Simplicio be thus beaten and mauled in the mishandling he got.\u201d\nAnd while they were all laughing, one at this thing and another at that,\nthe Signora made a sign for silence in order that Vicenza might duly\npropound her enigma; and the latter, feeling that she had more than\navenged the insult put upon her sex by the Trevisan, gave her enigma in\nthese terms:\n\n                 I blush to tell my name aright,\n                 Rough to touch, and rude to sight.\n                 Wide and toothless is my mouth,\n                 Red of hue my lips uncouth;\n                 Black all round, and from below\n                 Ardour oft will make me glow;\n                 Rouse my passion closely pent,\n                 Make me foam till I am spent.\n                 A scullion base may e\u2019en abuse me,\n                 And all men at their pleasure use me.\n\nThe men were hard pressed to keep from laughing when they saw the ladies\ncast down their eyes into their laps, smiling somewhat the while. But\nthe Signora, to whom modest speech was more pleasing than aught that\nsavoured of ribaldry, bent a stern and troubled glance upon Vicenza and\nthus addressed her: \u201cIf I had not too much respect for these gentlemen,\nI would tell you to your face what really is the meaning of this lewd\nand immodest riddle of yours; but I will forgive you this once, only\ntake good heed that you offend not again in such fashion; for, if you\nshould, I will let you feel and know what my power over you really is.\u201d\nThen Vicenza, blushing like a morning rosebud at hearing herself thus\nshamefully reproved, plucked up her courage and gave answer in these\nterms: \u201cSignora, if I have uttered a single word which has offended your\nears, or the ears of any of the modest gentlewomen I see around me, I\nshould assuredly deserve not only your reproof, but severe chastisement\nto boot. But, seeing that my words were in themselves simple and\nblameless, they scarcely merited so bitter a censure; for the\ninterpretation of my riddle, which has been apprehended by you in a\nmistaken sense, will show my words to be true and prove my innocence at\nthe same time. The thing which my enigma describes is a stockpot, which\nis black all round, and when fiercely heated by the fire boils over and\nscatters foam on all sides. It has a wide mouth and no teeth, and takes\neverything that may be thrown into it, and any scullion may take out\nwhat he will when the dinner is being prepared for his master.\u201d\n\nWhen they heard from Vicenza this modest solution of her riddle, all the\nlisteners, men as well as women, gave her hearty praise, deeming the\nwhile that she had been wrongfully reproved by the Signora. And now,\nbecause the hour was late, and the rosy tints of morning already visible\nin the sky, the Signora, without excusing herself in any way for the\nscolding she had given Vicenza, dismissed the company, bidding them all\nunder pain of her displeasure to assemble in good time the following\nevening.\n\n\n                     =The End of the Second Night.=\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                           =Night the Third.=\n\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n   =The Fables and Enigmas of Messer Giovanni Francesco Straparola da\n                              Caravaggio.=\n\n\n\n\n                           =Night the Third.=\n\n\nAlready the sister of the sun had begun her reign in the sky over the\nforests and the gloomy gorges of the hills, and showed her golden circle\nover the half of heaven; already the car of Ph\u0153bus had sunk beneath the\nwestern wave, the moving stars had lighted their lamps, and the pretty\nbirds, ceasing their pleasant songs and bickerings, sought repose in\ntheir nests set amongst the green boughs, when the ladies and the\ngallant youths as well met on the third evening in the accustomed spot\nto renew their story-telling. And as soon as they were all seated\naccording to their rank, the Signora Lucretia commanded that the vase\nshould be brought forth as before, and in it she caused to be placed the\nnames of five damsels, who, according to the order determined by lot,\nshould that evening tell in turn their stories. The first name which was\ndrawn from the vase was that of Cateruzza, the second that of Arianna,\nthe third that of Lauretta, the fourth that of Alteria, and the fifth\nthat of Eritrea. Then the Signora gave the word for the Trevisan to take\nhis lute, and Molino his viol, and for all the rest to tread a measure\nto Bembo\u2019s leading. And when the dance had come to an end, and the sweet\nlyre and the divine strings of the hollow lute were silent, the Signora\ndirected Lauretta to begin her song, and she, anxious to obey the\nSignora in everything, took hands with her companions, and having made\nrespectful salutation, sang in clear and mellow tone the following song:\n\n                              SONG.\n                  Lady, while thy face I scan,\n                  Where love smiling holds his court,\n                  Lo! from out your beauteous eyes\n                  Light so radiant doth arise,\n                  That it shows us Paradise.\n\n                  All my sighs and all my tears,\n                  Which I foolish shed in vain;\n                  All the anguish of my heart,\n                  All my hidden woe and smart,\n                  With my faint desire have part.\n\n                  Then to love\u2019s last mood I fly,\n                  Recking nought that earth and sky\n                  Stand beneath me and above;\n                  So my soul is drawn by love\n                  To the heights of passion free,\n                  And I learn that fate\u2019s decree\n                  Binds me, whatsoe\u2019er betide,\n                  Dead or living, to thy side.\n\nAfter Lauretta and her companions had given sign by their silence that\ntheir song had come to an end, the Signora, bending her gaze upon the\nfair and open countenance of Cateruzza, said that the task of making a\nbeginning of the story-telling of that third evening fell upon her, and\nCateruzza, with a becoming blush upon her cheek and laughing lightly,\nbegan in these terms.\n\n\n\n\n                            THE FIRST FABLE.\n\n  =A simple fellow, named Peter, gets back his wits by the help of a\n      tunny fish which he spared after having taken it in his net, and\n      likewise wins for his wife a king\u2019s daughter.=\n\n\nThere is proof enough, dear ladies, both in the chronicles of the past\nand in the doings of our own day, that a fool, whether by lucky accident\nor by sheer force of blundering, may sometimes score a success where a\nwise man might fail. Therefore it has come into my mind to tell you the\nstory of one of these fools, who, through the issue of a very foolish\ndeed, got for his wife the daughter of a king and became a wise man\nhimself into the bargain.\n\nIn the Ligurian Sea there is an island called Capraia, which, at the\ntime I am describing, was ruled by King Luciano. Amongst his subjects\nwas a poor widow named Isotta, who lived with her only son Peter, a\nfisher-lad, but from Peter\u2019s fishing she would scarce have kept body and\nsoul together, for he was a poor silly creature known to all the\nneighbours as Peter the Fool. Though he went fishing every day he never\ncaught anything, but in spite of his ill-success he would always come up\nfrom his boat shouting and bellowing so that all the town might hear\nhim: \u2018Mother, mother, bring out your tubs and your buckets and your\npails; bring them out all, great and small, for Peter has caught a\nboatful of fish.\u2019 The poor woman soon got to know the value of Peter\u2019s\nbragging, but in spite of this she always prepared the vessels, only to\nfind herself jeered at by the silly youth, who, as soon as he came near,\nwould thrust out his long tongue in ridicule, and otherwise mock at her.\n\nNow it chanced that the widow\u2019s cottage stood just opposite to the\npalace of King Luciano, who had only one child, a pretty graceful girl\nabout ten years old, Luciana by name. She, it happened, was looking out\nof the window of the palace one day when Peter came back from fishing,\ncrying out to his mother to bring out her tubs and her buckets and her\npails to hold the fish with which he was laden, and so much was she\ndiverted at the silly antics of the fool, that it seemed likely she\nwould die with laughing. Peter, when he saw that he was made sport of,\ngrew very angry, and threw some ugly words at her, but the more he raged\nthe more she\u2014after the manner of wilful children\u2014laughed and made mock\nat him. Peter, however, went on with his fishing day after day, and\nplayed the same trick on his mother every evening on his return; but at\nlast fortune favoured him, and he caught a fine tunny, very big and fat.\nOverjoyed at his good luck, he began to shout and cry out over and over\nagain, \u2018Mother and I will have a good supper to-night,\u2019 when, to his\namazement, he heard the tunny which he had just caught begin to speak:\n\u2018Ah! my dear brother, I pray you of your courtesy to give me my life.\nWhen once you have eaten me, what farther benefit do you think you will\nget from me? but if you will let me live there is no telling what\nservice I may not render you.\u2019 But Peter, whose thoughts just then were\nset only on his supper, hoisted the fish on his shoulders and set off\nhomewards; but the tunny still kept on beseeching his captor to spare\nhis life, promising him first as many fish as he could want, and finally\nto do him any favour he might demand. Peter was not hardhearted, and,\nthough a fool, fancied he might profit by sparing the fish, so he\nlistened to the tunny\u2019s petition and threw him back into the sea. The\nfish, sensible of Peter\u2019s kindness, and not wishing to seem ungrateful,\ntold Peter to get into his boat again and tilt it over so that the water\ncould run in. This advice Peter at once followed, and, having leant over\non one side, he let the boat be half filled with water, which brought in\nwith it such a huge quantity of fish that the boat was in danger of\nsinking. Peter was wellnigh beside himself with joy when he saw what had\nhappened, and, when he had taken as many fish as he could carry, he\nbetook himself homewards, crying out, as was his wont, when he drew near\nto the cottage: \u2018Mother, mother, bring out your tubs and your buckets\nand your pails; bring out them all, great and small, for Peter has\ncaught a boatful of fish.\u2019 At first poor Isotta, thinking that he was\nonly playing his old fool\u2019s game, took no heed; but at last, hearing him\ncry out louder than ever, and fearing that he might commit some greater\nfolly if he should not find the vessels prepared as usual, got them all\nready. What was her surprise to see her simpleton of a son at last\ncoming back with a brave spoil! The Princess Luciana was at the palace\nwindow, and hearing Peter bellowing louder than ever, she laughed louder\nthan ever, so that Peter was almost mad with rage, and having left his\nfish, he rushed back to the seashore, and called aloud on the tunny to\ncome and help him. The fish, hearing Peter\u2019s voice, came to the marge of\nthe shore, and putting his nose up out of the waves, asked what service\nwas required of him. \u2018What service!\u2019 cried Peter. \u2018Why I would that\nLuciana, that saucy minx, the daughter of our king, should find herself\nwith child at once.\u2019\n\nWhat followed was a proof that the tunny had not made an empty promise\nto Peter, for before many days had passed the figure of the young girl,\nwho was not twelve years old, began to show signs of maternity. Her\nmother, when she marked this, fell into great trouble, but she could not\nbelieve that a child of eleven could be pregnant, and rather set down\nthe swelling to the working of an incurable disease; so she brought\nLuciana to be examined by some women expert in such cases, and these, as\nsoon as they saw the girl, declared that she was certainly with child.\nThe queen, overwhelmed by this terrible news, told it also to the king,\nand he, when he heard it, cried aloud for death rather than such\nignominy. Strict inquisition was made to discover who could have\nviolated the child, but nothing was found out; so Luciano, to hide her\ndire disgrace, determined to have his daughter secretly killed.\n\nThe queen, on hearing this, begged her husband to spare the unfortunate\nLuciana till the child should be born, and then do with her what he\nwould. The king, moved with compassion for his only daughter, gave way\nso far; and in due time Luciana was delivered of a boy so fine and\nbeautiful that the king could no longer harbour the thought of putting\nthem away, but, on the other hand, gave order to the queen that the boy\nshould be well tended till he was a year old. When this time was\ncompleted the child had become beautiful beyond compare, and then it\ncame into the king\u2019s mind that he would again make a trial to find out\nwho the father might be. He issued a proclamation that every man in the\ncity who had passed fourteen years should, under pain of losing his\nhead, present himself at the palace bearing in his hand some fruit or\nflower which might attract the child\u2019s attention. On the appointed day,\nin obedience to the proclamation, all those summoned came to the palace,\nbearing, this man one thing and that man another, and, having passed\nbefore the king, sat down according to their rank.\n\nNow it happened that a certain young man as he was betaking himself to\nthe palace met Peter, and said to him, \u2018Peter, why are you not going to\nthe palace like all the others to obey the order of the king?\u2019 \u2018What\nshould I do in such a crowd as that?\u2019 said Peter. \u2018Cannot you see I am a\npoor naked fellow, and have hardly a rag to my back, and yet you ask me\nto push myself in amongst all those gentlemen and courtiers? No.\u2019 Then\nthe young man, laughing at him, said, \u2018Come with me, and I will give you\na coat. Who knows whether the child may not turn out to be yours?\u2019 In\nthe end Peter let himself be persuaded to go to the young man\u2019s house,\nand having put on a decent coat, they went together to the palace; but\nwhen they arrived there Peter\u2019s heart again failed him, and he hid\nhimself behind a door. By this time all the men had presented themselves\nto the king, and were seated in the hall. Then Luciano commanded the\nnurse to bring in the child, thinking that if the father should be there\nthe sense of paternity would make him give some sign. As the nurse\ncarried the child down the hall everyone, as he passed, began to caress\nhim and to give him, this one a fruit and that one a flower; but the\ninfant, with a wave of his hand, refused them all. When the nurse passed\nby the entrance door the child began to laugh and crow, and threw\nhimself forward so lustily that he almost jumped out of the woman\u2019s\narms, but she, not knowing that anyone was there, walked on down the\nhall. When she came back to the same place, the child was more delighted\nthan ever, laughing and pointing with his finger to the door; so that\nthe king, who had already noticed the child\u2019s actions, called to the\nnurse, and asked her who was behind the door. The nurse, being somewhat\nconfused, said that surely some beggar must be hidden there. By the\nking\u2019s command Peter was at once haled forth, and everybody recognized\nthe town fool; but the child, who was close to him, stretched out his\narms and clasped Peter round the neck, and kissed him lovingly. The\nking, recognizing the sign, was stricken to the heart with grief, and\nhaving discharged the assembly, commanded that Peter and Luciana and the\nchild should be put to death forthwith.\n\nThe queen, though assenting to this doom, was fearful lest the public\nexecution of the victims might draw down upon the king the anger of the\npeople; so she persuaded him to have made a huge cask into which the\nthree might be put and cast into the sea to drift at random; then, at\nleast, no one might witness their dying agony. This the king agreed to;\nand when the cask was made, the condemned ones were put therein, with a\nbasket of bread and a flask of wine, and a drum of figs for the child,\nand thrust out into the rough sea, with the expectation that the waves\nwould soon dash it to pieces against the rocks; but this was not to be\ntheir fate.\n\nPeter\u2019s poor old mother, when she heard of her son\u2019s misfortune, died of\ngrief in a few days; and the unhappy Luciana, tossed about by the cruel\nwaves, and seeing neither sun nor moon, would have welcomed a similar\nfate. The child, since she had no milk to give it, had to be soothed to\nsleep with now and then a fig; but Peter seemed to care for nothing, and\nate the bread and drank the wine steadily, laughing the while. \u2018Alas!\nalas!\u2019 cried Luciana in despair, \u2018you care nothing for this evil which\nyou have brought upon me, a poor innocent girl. You eat and drink and\nlaugh without a thought of the danger around us.\u2019 \u2018Why,\u2019 replied Peter,\n\u2018this misfortune is more your own fault than mine. If you had not mocked\nme so, it would never have happened; but do not lose heart, our troubles\nwill soon be over,\u2019 \u2018I believe that,\u2019 cried Luciana, \u2018for the cask will\nsoon be split on a rock, and then we must all be drowned.\u2019 \u2018No, no,\u2019\nsaid Peter, \u2018calm yourself. I have a secret, and were you to know what\nit is, you would be vastly surprised and vastly delighted too, I\nbelieve.\u2019 \u2018What secret can you know,\u2019 said Luciana, \u2018which will avail us\nin such danger as this?\u2019 \u2018I will soon tell you,\u2019 Peter replied. \u2018I have\na faithful servant, a great fish, who will do me any service I ask of\nhim, and there is nothing he cannot do. I may as well tell you it was\nthrough his working that you became with child.\u2019 \u2018That I cannot\nbelieve,\u2019 said Luciana; \u2018and what may this fish of yours be called?\u2019\n\u2018His name is Signor Tunny,\u2019 replied Peter. \u2018Then,\u2019 said Luciana, \u2018to put\nyour fish to the test, I will ask you to transfer to me the power you\nexercise over him, and to command him to do my bidding instead of\nyours.\u2019 \u2018Be it as you will,\u2019 said Peter; and without more ado he called\nthe tunny, who at once rose up near the cask, whereupon Peter commanded\nhim to do everything that Luciana might require of him. She at once\nexercised her power over the fish by ordering him to make the waves cast\nthe cask ashore in a fair safe cleft in the rocks on an island, a short\nsail from her father\u2019s kingdom. As soon as the fish had worked her will\nso far, she laid other and much harder tasks upon him: one was to change\nPeter from the ugly fool he was into a clever, handsome gallant; another\nwas, to have built for her forthwith a rich and sumptuous palace, with\nlofty halls and chambers, and girt with carven terraces. Within the\ncourt there was to be laid out a beautiful garden, full of trees which\nshould bear, instead of fruit, pearls and precious stones, and in the\nmidst of it two fountains, one of the freshest water and the other of\nthe finest wine. All these wonders were wrought by the fish almost as\nsoon as Luciana had spoken.\n\nNow all this time the king and the queen were in deep misery in thinking\nof the cruel death they had contrived for Luciana and her child, how\nthey had given their own flesh and blood to be eaten by the fishes;\ntherefore, to find some solace in their woe, they determined to go to\nJerusalem and to visit the Holy Land. So they ordered a ship to be put\nin order for them, and furnished with all things suited to their state.\nThey set sail with a favouring wind, and before they had gone a hundred\nmiles they came in sight of an island upon which they could see a\nstately palace, built a little above the level of the sea. Seeing that\nthis palace was so fair and sumptuous, and standing, moreover, within\nLuciano\u2019s kingdom, they were seized with a longing to view it more\nclosely; so, having put into a haven, they landed on the island. Before\nthey had come to the palace Luciana and Peter saw and recognized them,\nand, having gone forth to meet them, greeted them with a cordial\nwelcome, but the king and queen did not know their hosts for the great\nchange which had come over them. The guests were taken first into the\npalace, which they examined in every part, praising loudly its great\nbeauty, and then they were led by a secret staircase into the garden,\nthe splendour of which pleased them so amazingly that they swore they\nhad never at any time before looked upon a place so delightful. In the\ncentre of this garden there stood a noble tree, which bore on one of its\nbranches three golden apples. These the keeper of the garden was charged\nto guard jealously against robbers, and now, by some secret working\nwhich I cannot unravel, the finest of these apples was transported into\nthe folds of the king\u2019s robe about his bosom, and there hidden. Luciano\nand the queen were about to take their leave when the keeper approached\nand said to Luciana, \u2018Madam, the most beautiful of the three golden\napples is missing, and I can find no trace of the thief.\u2019\n\nLuciana forthwith gave orders that the whole household should be\nsearched, one by one, for such a loss as this was no light matter. The\nkeeper, after he had searched thoroughly everyone, came back and told\nLuciana that the apple was nowhere to be found. At these words Luciana\nfell into great confusion, and, turning to the king, said: \u2018Your majesty\nmust not be wroth with me if I ask that even you allow yourself to be\nsearched, for I prize the golden apple that is lost almost as highly as\nmy life.\u2019 The king, unsuspicious of any trick, and sure of his\ninnocence, straightway loosened his robe, and lo! the golden apple fell\nfrom it to the ground.\n\nThe king stood as one dazed, ignorant as to how the golden apple could\nhave come into his robe, and Luciana spoke: \u2018Sire, we have welcomed you\nto our house with all the worship fitting to your rank, and now, as a\nrecompense, you would privily rob our garden of its finest fruit.\nMeseems you have proved yourself very ungrateful.\u2019 The king, in his\ninnocence, attempted to prove to her that he could not have taken the\napple, and Luciana, seeing his confusion, knew that the time had come\nfor her to speak, and reveal herself to her father. \u2018My lord,\u2019 she said,\nwith the tears in her eyes, \u2018I am Luciana, your hapless daughter, whom\nyou sentenced to a cruel death along with my child and Peter the\nfisher-boy. Though I bore a child, I was never unchaste. Here is the\nboy, and here is he whom men were wont to call Peter the Fool. You\nwonder at this change. It has all been brought about by the power of a\nmarvellous fish whose life Peter spared when he had caught it in his\nnet. By this power Peter has been turned into the wisest of men, and the\npalace you see has been built. In the same way I became pregnant without\nknowledge of a man, and the golden apple was conveyed into the folds of\nyour robe. I am as innocent of unchastity as you are of theft.\u2019\n\nWhen the king heard these words his eyes were opened, and he knew his\nchild. Then, weeping with joy, they embraced each other, and all were\nglad and happy. After spending a few days on the island, they all\nembarked and returned together to Capraia, where with sumptuous\nfeastings and rejoicings Peter was duly married to Luciana, and lived\nwith her in great honour and contentment, until Luciano died, and then\nhe became king in his stead.\n\nThe story of Cateruzza had at one time moved the ladies to tears; but,\nwhen its happy issue was made known to them, they rejoiced and thanked\nGod therefor. Then the Signora, when Cateruzza had ended, commanded her\nto continue in the order they had followed hitherto, and she, not\nwilling to hold in suspense the attention of her hearers, smilingly\nproposed to them the following enigma:\n\n                 Sir Redman stands behind a tree,\n                 Now hidden, now in sight is he.\n                 To him four runners speed along,\n                 Bearing a warrior huge and strong.\n                 Two darts into the trunk he wings,\n                 And Redman from his lair upsprings,\n                 And smites him from behind with skill;\n                 Thus ten little men one giant kill.\n                 Now he who shall this speech unfold,\n                 Shall be a witty rogue and bold.\n\nCateruzza\u2019s graceful and ingenious enigma was received by the whole\ncompany with applause. Many interpretations were put forth; but none\ncame so near the mark as Lauretta: \u201cOur sister\u2019s enigma can have but one\nmeaning\u2014the wild bull of the forest,\u2019 she said. \u2018He has four runners to\ncarry his huge bulk. The sight of a red rag maddens him, and thinking to\nrend it, he strikes his horns into the tree. Straightway the huntsman,\nwho was hidden behind the trunk, comes forth and kills him with a dart\nsped by ten little men, that is, the ten fingers of his two hands.\u201d\n\nThis speedy solution of her riddle raised an angry humour in Cateruzza\u2019s\nheart, for she had hoped it might prove beyond the wit of any; but she\nhad not reckoned for Lauretta\u2019s quickness. The Signora, who perceived\nthat the two were fain to wrangle, called for silence, and gave the word\nto Arianna to begin a story which should please them all, and the\ndamsel, somewhat bashful, began as follows.\n\n\n\n\n                           THE SECOND FABLE.\n\n  =Dalfreno, King of Tunis had two sons, one called Listico and the\n      other Livoretto. The latter afterwards was known as Porcarollo,\n      and in the end won for his wife Bellisandra, the daughter of\n      Attarante, King of Damacus.=\n\n\nIt is no light matter for the steersman, let him be ever so watchful, to\nbring his tempest-strained bark safely into a sheltered port when he may\nbe vexed by envious and contrary fortune, and tossed about amongst the\nhard and ragged rocks. And so it happened to Livoretto, son of the great\nKing of Tunis, who, after many dangers hardly to be believed, heavy\nafflictions, and lengthened fatigues, succeeded at last, through the\nvalour of his spirit, in trampling under foot his wretched fortune, and\nin the end reigned peacefully over his kingdom in Cairo. All this I\nshall make abundantly clear in the fable I am about to relate to you.\n\nIn Tunis, a stately city on the coast of Africa, there reigned, not long\nago, a famous and powerful king named Dalfreno. He had to wife a\nbeautiful and wise lady, and by her begot two sons, modest, well-doing\nand obedient in everything to their father, the elder being called\nListico, and the younger Livoretto. Now it happened that by royal\ndecree, as well as by the approved usage of the state, these youths were\nbarred in the succession to their father\u2019s throne, which ran entirely in\nthe female line. Wherefore the king, when he saw that he was by evil\nfortune deprived of female issue, and was assured by knowledge of\nhimself that he was come to an age when he could hardly expect any\nfurther progeny, was sorely troubled, and felt his heart wrung\nthereanent with unbounded grief. And his sorrow was all the heavier\nbecause he was haunted by the dread that after his death his sons might\nbe looked at askance, and evilly treated, and driven with ignominy from\nhis kingdom.\n\nThe unhappy king, infected by these dolorous humours, and knowing not\nwhere might lie any remedy therefor, turned to the queen, whom he loved\nvery dearly, and thus addressed her: \u2018Madam, what shall we do with these\nsons of ours, seeing that we are bereft of all power to leave them heirs\nto our kingdom both by the law and by the ancient custom of the land?\u2019\nThe sagacious queen at once made answer to him in these words: \u2018Sire, it\nseems to me that, as you have a greater store of riches than any other\nking in the world, you should send them away into some foreign country\nwhere no man would know them, giving them first a great quantity of\nmoney and jewels. In such case they may well find favour in the sight of\nsome well-disposed sovereign, who will see that no ill befall them. And\nif (which may God forbid) they should happen to come to want, no one\nwill know whose sons they are. They are young, fair to look upon, of\ngood address, high-spirited, and on the alert for every honourable and\nknightly enterprise, and let them go where they will they will scarcely\nfind any king or prince or great lord who will not love them and set\ngreat store upon them for the sake of the rich gifts which nature has\nlavished upon them.\u2019 This answer of the prudent queen accorded fully\nwith the humour of King Dalfreno, and having summoned into his presence\nhis sons Listico and Livoretto, he said to them: \u2018My well-beloved sons,\nyou must by this time know that, after I am dead, you will have no\nchance of succeeding to the sovereignty of this my kingdom; not, indeed,\non account of your vices or from your ill manner of living, but because\nit has been thus determined by law and by the ancient custom of the\ncountry. You being men, created by mother nature and ourselves, and not\nwomen, are barred from all claim. Wherefore your mother and I, for the\nbenefit and advantage of you both, have determined to let you voyage\ninto some strange land, taking with you jewels and gems and money in\nplenty; so that whenever you may light upon some honourable position you\nmay gain your living in honourable wise, and do credit to us at the same\ntime. And for this reason I look that you shall show yourselves obedient\nto our wishes.\u2019\n\nListico and Livoretto were as much pleased at this proposition as the\nking and the queen themselves had been, because both one and other of\nthe young men desired ardently to see new lands and to taste the\npleasures of the world. It happened that the queen (as is not seldom the\nway with mothers) loved the younger son more tenderly than she loved the\nelder, and before they took their departure she called him aside and\ngave him a prancing high-mettled horse, flecked with spots, with a small\nshapely head, and high courage shining in its eye. Moreover, in addition\nto all these good qualities with which it was endowed, it was gifted\nwith magic powers, but this last fact the queen told only to Livoretto,\nher younger son.\n\nAs soon, then, as the two sons had received their parents\u2019 benediction,\nand secured the treasure prepared for them, they departed secretly\ntogether; and after they had ridden for many days without lighting upon\nany spot which pleased them, they began to be sorely troubled at their\nfate. Then Livoretto spoke and addressed his brother: \u2018We have all this\ntime ridden in one another\u2019s company, and narrowly searched the country\nwithout having wrought any deed which could add aught to our repute.\nWherefore it seems to me wiser (supposing what I propose contents you\nalso) that we should separate one from the other, and that each one\nshould go in search of adventures for himself.\u2019\n\nListico, having taken thought of his brother\u2019s proposition, agreed\nthereto, and then, after they had warmly embraced and kissed each other,\nthey bade farewell and went their several ways. Listico, of whom nothing\nmore was ever heard, took his way towards the West, while Livoretto\njourneyed into the East. And it happened that, after he had consumed a\ngreat space of time in going from one place to another, and seen almost\nevery country under the sun, and spent all the jewels and the money and\nthe other treasures his good father had given him, save and except the\nmagic horse, Livoretto found himself at last in Cairo, the royal city of\nEgypt, which was at that time under the rule of a sultan whose name was\nDanebruno, a man wise in all the secrets of statecraft, and powerful\nthrough his riches and his high estate, but now heavily stricken in\nyears. But, notwithstanding his advanced age, he was inflamed with the\nmost ardent love for Bellisandra, the youthful daughter of Attarante,\nthe King of Damascus, against which city he had at this time sent a\npowerful army with orders to camp round about it, and to lay siege to\nit, and to take it by storm, in order that, either by love or by force,\nhe might win for himself the princess to wife. But Bellisandra, who had\nalready a certain foreknowledge that the Sultan of Cairo was both old\nand ugly, had made up her mind once for all that, rather than be forced\nto become the wife of such a man, she would die by her own hand.\n\nAs soon as Livoretto had arrived at Cairo, and had gone into the city,\nand wandered into every part thereof, and marvelled at all he saw, he\nfelt this was a place to his taste, and seeing that he had by this time\nlavished all his substance in paying for his maintenance, he determined\nthat he would not depart thence until he should have taken service with\nsome master or other. And one day, when he found himself by the palace\nof the sultan, he espied in the court thereof a great number of guards\nand mamelukes and slaves, and he questioned some of these as to whether\nthere was in the court of the sultan lack of servants of any sort, and\nthey answered him there was none. But, after a little, one of these,\ncalling to mind that there was room in the household for a man to tend\nthe pigs, shouted after him, and questioned him whether he would be\nwilling to be a swineherd, and Livoretto answered \u2018Yes.\u2019 Then the man\nbade him get off his horse, and took him to the pigsties, asking at the\nsame time what was his name. Livoretto told him, but hereafter men\nalways called him Porcarollo, the name they gave him.\n\nAnd thus it happened that Livoretto, now known by the name of\nPorcarollo, settled himself in the court of the sultan, and had no other\nemploy than to let fatten the pigs, and in this duty he showed such\ngreat care and diligence that he brought to an end easily in two months\ntasks which would have taken any other man six months to accomplish.\nWhen, therefore, the guards and the mamelukes and the slaves perceived\nwhat a serviceable fellow he was, they persuaded the sultan that it\nwould be well to provide some other employment for him, because his\ndiligence and cleverness deserved some better office than the low one he\nnow held. Wherefore, by the decree of the sultan, he was put in charge\nof all the horses in the royal stables, with a large augmentation of his\nsalary, a promotion which pleased him mightily, because he deemed that,\nwhen he should be the master of all the other horses, he would be the\nbetter able to see well to his own. And when he got to work in his new\noffice he cleaned and trimmed the horses so thoroughly, and made such\ngood use of the currycomb, that their skins shone like satin.\n\nNow, amongst the other horses there was an exceedingly beautiful\nhigh-spirited young palfrey, to which, on account of its good looks, he\npaid special attention in order to train it perfectly, and he trained it\nso well that the palfrey, besides going anywhere he might be told to go,\nwould curve his neck, and dance, and stand at his whole height on his\nhind legs and paw the air so rapidly that every motion seemed like the\nflight of a bolt from a crossbow. The mamelukes and slaves, when they\nsaw what Livoretto had taught the palfrey to do by his training, were\nthunderstruck with amazement, for it seemed to them that such things\ncould hardly ensue in the course of nature. Wherefore they determined to\ntell the whole matter to the sultan, in order that he might take\npleasure in witnessing the marvellous skill of Porcarollo.\n\nThe sultan, who always wore an appearance of great melancholy, whether\nfrom the torture of his amorous passion or by reason of his great age,\ncared little or nothing for recreation of any sort; but, weighed down by\nhis troublesome humours, would pass the time in thinking of nothing else\nbesides his beloved mistress. However, the mamelukes and the slaves made\nso much ado about the matter, that before long the sultan was moved to\ntake his stand at the window one morning, and there to witness all the\nvarious wonderful and dexterous feats of horsemanship which Porcarollo\nperformed with his trained palfrey, and, seeing what a good-looking\nyouth he was, and how well formed in his person, and finding, moreover,\nthat what he had seen was even more attractive than he had been led to\nexpect, he came to the conclusion that it was mighty ill management\n(which now he began greatly to regret) to have sent so accomplished a\nyouth to no better office than the feeding and tending of beasts.\nWherefore, having turned the matter over in his mind, and considered it\nin every light, he realized to the full the eminent qualities, hitherto\nconcealed, of the graceful young man, and found there was nothing\nlacking in him. So he resolved at once to remove him from the office he\nnow filled, and to place him in one of higher consideration; so, having\ncaused Porcarollo to be summoned into his presence, he thus addressed\nhim: \u2018Porcarollo, it is my will that you do service no longer in the\nstables, as heretofore, but that you attend me at my own table and do\nthe office of cupbearer, and taste everything that may be put before me,\nas a guarantee that I may eat thereof without hurt.\u2019\n\nThe young man, after he had duly entered upon the office of cupbearer to\nthe sultan, discharged his duties with so great art and skilfulness that\nhe won the approbation, not only of the sultan, but of all those about\nthe court. But amongst the mamelukes and slaves there arose against him\nsuch a bitter hatred and envy on account of the great favour done to him\nby the sultan that they could scarce bear the sight of him, and, had\nthey not been kept back by the fear of their master, they would\nassuredly have taken his life. Therefore, in order to deprive the\nunfortunate youth of the favour of the sultan, and to let him either be\nslain or driven into perpetual exile, they devised a most cunning and\ningenious plot for the furtherance of their design. They made beginning\nin this wise. One morning a slave named Chebur, who had been sent in his\nturn to do service to the sultan, said, \u2018My lord, I have some good news\nto give you.\u2019 \u2018And what may this be?\u2019 inquired the sultan. \u2018It is,\u2019\nreplied the slave, \u2018that Porcarollo, who bears by right the name of\nLivoretto, has been boasting that he would be able to accomplish for you\neven so heavy a task as to give into your keeping the daughter of\nAttarante, King of Damascus.\u2019 \u2018And how can such a thing as this be\npossible?\u2019 asked the sultan. To whom Chebur replied, \u2018It is indeed\npossible, O my lord! but if you will not put faith in my words, inquire\nof the mamelukes and of the other slaves, in whose presence he has\nboasted more than once of his power to do this thing, and then you will\neasily know whether the tale I am telling you be false or true.\u2019 After\nthe sultan had duly assured himself that what the slave had told to him\nwas just, he summoned Livoretto into his presence, and demanded of him\nwhether this saying concerning him which was openly bruited about the\ncourt, was true. Then the young man, who knew nothing of what had gone\nbefore, gave a stout denial, and spake so bluntly that the sultan, with\nhis rage and animosity fully aroused, thus addressed him: \u2018Get you hence\nstraightway, and if within the space of thirty days you have not brought\ninto my power the Princess Bellisandra, the daughter of Attarante, King\nof Damascus, I will have your head taken off your shoulders.\u2019 The young\nman, when he heard this cruel speech of the sultan, withdrew from the\npresence overwhelmed with grief and confusion, and betook himself to the\nstables.\n\nAs soon as he had entered, the fairy horse, who remarked at once the sad\nlooks of his master and the scalding tears which fell so plentifully\nfrom his eyes, turned to him and said: \u2018Alas! my master, why do I see\nyou so deeply agitated and so full of grief?\u2019 The young man, weeping and\nsighing deeply the while, told him from beginning to end all that the\nsultan had required him to perform. Whereupon the horse, tossing his\nhead and making signs as if he were laughing, managed to comfort him\nsomewhat, and went on to bid him be of good heart and fear not, for all\nhis affairs would come to a prosperous issue in the end. Then he said to\nhis master: \u2018Go back to the sultan and beg him to give you a letter\npatent addressed to the captain-general of his army who is now laying\nsiege to Damascus, in which letter he shall write to the general an\nexpress command that, as soon as he shall have seen and read the letter\npatent sealed with the sultan\u2019s great seal, he shall forthwith raise the\nsiege of the city, and give to you money and fine clothing and arms in\norder that you may be able to prosecute with vigour and spirit the great\nenterprise which lies before you. And if peradventure it should happen,\nduring your voyage thitherward, that any person or any animal of\nwhatever sort or condition should entreat you to do them service of any\nkind, take heed that you perform the favour which may be required of\nyou, nor, as you hold your life dear to you, refuse to do the service\nasked for. And if you should meet with any man who is anxious to\npurchase me of you, tell him that you are willing to sell me, but at the\nsame time demand for me a price so extravagant that he shall give up all\nthought of the bargain. But if at any time a woman should wish to buy\nme, bear yourself gently towards her, and do her every possible\ncourtesy, giving her full liberty to stroke my head, my forehead, my\neyes and ears, and my loins, and to do anything else she may have a mind\nto, for I will let them handle me as they will without doing them the\nleast mischief or hurt of any kind.\u2019\n\nWhen he heard these words the young man, full of hope and spirit, went\nback to the sultan and made a request to him for the letter patent and\nfor everything else that the fairy horse had named to him. And when he\nhad procured all these from the sultan, he straightway mounted the horse\nand took the road which led to Damascus, giving by his departure great\ndelight to all the mamelukes and slaves, who, on account of the burning\nenvy and unspeakable hate they harboured against him, held it for\ncertain that he would never again come back alive to Cairo. Now it\nhappened that, when Livoretto had been a long time on his journey, he\ncame one day to a pool, and he marked, as he passed by the end thereof,\nthat the shore gave forth a very offensive smell, the cause of which I\ncannot tell, so that one could hardly go near to the place, and there\nupon the shore he saw lying a fish half dead. The fish, when it saw\nLivoretto approaching, cried out: \u2018Alas! kind gentleman, I beseech you\nof your courtesy to set me free from this foul-smelling mud, for I am,\nas you may see, wellnigh dead on account of it. The young man, taking\ngood heed of all that the fairy horse had told him, forthwith got down\nfrom his saddle and drew the fish out of the ill-smelling water, and\nwashed it clean with his own hands. Then the fish, after it had returned\ndue thanks to Livoretto for the kindness he had done for it, said to\nhim: \u2018Take from my back the three biggest scales you can find, and keep\nthem carefully by you; and if at any time it shall happen that you are\nin need of succour, put down the scales by the bank of the river, and I\nwill come to you straightway and will give you instant help.\u2019\n\nLivoretto accordingly took the three scales, and, having thrown the\nfish, which was now quite clean and shining, into the clear water,\nremounted his horse and rode on until he came to a certain place where\nhe found a peregrine falcon which had been frozen into a sheet of ice as\nfar as the middle of its body, and could not get free. The falcon, when\nit saw the young man, cried out: \u2018Alas! fair youth, take pity on me, and\nrelease me from this ice in which, as you see, I am imprisoned, and I\npromise, if you will deliver me from this great misfortune, I will lend\nyou my aid if at any time you should chance to stand in need thereof.\u2019\nThe young man, overcome by compassion and pity, went kindly to the\nsuccour of the bird, and having drawn a knife which he carried attached\nto the scabbard of his sword, he beat and pierced with the point thereof\nthe hard ice round about the bird so that he brake it, and then he took\nout the falcon and cherished it in his bosom in order to bring back,\nsomewhat of warmth to its body. The falcon, when it had recovered its\nstrength and was itself again, thanked the young man profusely for his\nkindness, and as a recompense for the great service he had wrought, it\ngave him two feathers which he would find growing under its left wing,\nbegging him at the same time to guard and preserve them most carefully\nfor the sake of the love it bore him; for if in the future he should\nchance to stand in need of any succour, he might take the two feathers\nto the river and stick them in the bank there, and then immediately it\nwould come to his assistance. And having thus spoken the bird flew away.\n\nAfter Livoretto had continued his journey for some days he came to the\nsultan\u2019s army encamped before the city, and there he found the\ncaptain-general, who was vexing the place with fierce assaults. Having\nbeen brought into the general\u2019s presence, he drew forth the sultan\u2019s\nletter patent, and the general, as soon as he had mastered the contents\nthereof, immediately gave orders that the siege should be raised, and\nthis having been done he marched back to Cairo with his whole army.\nLivoretto, after watching the departure of the captain-general, made his\nway the next morning into the city of Damascus by himself, and having\ntaken up his quarters at an inn, he attired himself in a very fair and\nrich garment, all covered with most rare and precious gems, which shone\nbright enough to make the sun envious, and mounted his fairy horse, and\nrode into the piazza in front of the royal palace, where he made the\nhorse go through all the exercises he had taught it with so great\nreadiness and dexterity, that everyone who beheld him stood still in\namazement and could look at nought beside.\n\nNow it happened that the noise made by the tumultuous crowd in the\npiazza below roused from sleep the Princess Bellisandra, and she\nforthwith arose from her bed. Having gone out upon a balcony, which\ncommanded a view of all the square beneath, she saw there a very\nhandsome youth; but what she marked especially was the beauty and\nvivacity of the gallant and high-mettled horse on which he sat. In\nshort, she was seized with a desire to get this horse for her own, just\nas keen as the passion of an amorous youth for the fair maiden on whom\nhe has set his heart. So she went at once to her father and besought him\nmost urgently to buy the horse for her, because ever since she had\nlooked upon his beauty and grace she had come to feel that she could not\nlive without him. Then the king, for the gratification of the fancy of\nhis daughter, whom he loved very tenderly, sent out one of his chief\nnobles to ask Livoretto whether he would be willing to sell his horse\nfor any reasonable price, because the only daughter of the king was\ntaken with the keenest desire to possess it. On hearing this Livoretto\nanswered that there was nothing on earth precious and excellent enough\nto be accounted as a price for the horse, and demanded therefor a\ngreater sum of money than there was in all the dominions which the king\nhad inherited from his fathers. When the king heard the enormous price\nasked by Livoretto, he called his daughter and said to her: \u2018My\ndaughter, I cannot bring myself to lavish the value of my whole kingdom\nin purchasing for you this horse and in satisfying your desire.\nWherefore have a little patience, and live happy and contented, for I\nwill make search and buy you another horse even better and more\nbeautiful than this.\u2019\n\nBut the effect of these words of the king was to inflame Bellisandra\nwith yet more ardent longing to possess the horse, and she besought her\nfather more insistently than ever to buy it for her, no matter how great\nmight be the price he had to pay for it. Then the maiden, after much\npraying and intercession, found that her entreaties had no avail with\nher father, so she left him, and betook herself to her mother, and\nfeigning to be half dead and prostrate with despair, fell into her arms.\nThe mother, filled with pity, and seeing her child so deeply\ngrief-stricken and pale, gave her what gentle consolation she could, and\nbegged her to moderate her grief, and suggested that, as soon as the\nking should be out of the way, they two should seek out the young man\nand should bargain with him for the purchase of the horse, and then\nperhaps (because they were women) he would let them have it at a more\nreasonable price. The maiden, when she heard these kindly words of her\nbeloved mother, was somewhat comforted, and as soon as the king was gone\nelsewhere the queen straightway despatched a messenger to Livoretto,\nbidding him to come at once to the palace and to bring his horse with\nhim; and he, when he heard the message thus delivered to him, rejoiced\ngreatly, and at once betook himself to the court. When he was come into\nthe queen\u2019s presence, she forthwith asked him what price he demanded for\nthe horse which her daughter so much desired to possess, and he answered\nher in these words: \u2018Madam, if you were to offer to give me all you\npossess in the world for my horse it could never become your daughter\u2019s\nas a purchase, but if it should please her to accept it as a gift, she\ncan have it for nothing. Before she takes it as a present, however, I\nhad rather that she should make trial of it, for it is so gentle and\nwell-trained that it will allow anybody to mount it without difficulty.\u2019\nWith these words he got down from the saddle and helped the princess to\nmount therein; whereupon she, holding the reins in her hand, made it go\nhere and there and managed it perfectly. But after a little, when the\nprincess had gone on the horse about a stone\u2019s throw distant from her\nmother, Livoretto sprang suddenly upon the crupper of the horse, and\nstruck his spurs deep into the flanks of the beast, and pricked it so\nsharply that it went as quickly as if it had been a bird flying through\nthe air. The maiden, bewildered at this strange conduit, began to cry\nout: \u2018You wicked and disloyal traitor! Whither are you carrying me, you\ndog, and son of a dog?\u2019 However, all her cries and reproaches were to no\npurpose, for there was no one near to give her aid or even to comfort\nher with a word.\n\nIt happened as they rode along that they came to the bank of a river,\nand in passing this the maiden drew off from her finger a very beautiful\nring which she wore thereon, and cast it secretly into the water. And\nafter they had been for many days on their journey, they arrived at last\nat Cairo, and as soon as Livoretto had come to the palace he immediately\ntook the princess and presented her to the sultan, who, when he saw how\nlovely and graceful and pure she was, rejoiced greatly, and bade her\nwelcome with all sorts of kindly speeches. And after a while, when the\nhour for retiring to rest had come, and the sultan had retired with the\nprincess to a chamber as richly adorned as it was beautiful in itself,\nthe princess spake thus to the sultan: \u2018Sire, do not dream that I will\never yield to your amorous wishes unless you first command that wicked\nand rascally servant of yours to find my ring which fell into the river\nas we journeyed hither. When he shall have recovered it and brought it\nback to me you will see that I shall be ready to comply with your\ndesire.\u2019 The sultan, who was by this time all on fire with love for the\ndeeply injured princess, could deny her nothing which might please her;\nso he turned to Livoretto and bade him straightway set forth in quest of\nthe ring, threatening him that if he should fail in his task he should\nbe immediately put to death.\n\nLivoretto, as soon as he heard the words of the sultan, perceived that\nthese were orders which must be carried out at once, and that he would\nput himself in great danger by running counter to his master\u2019s wishes;\nso he went out of his presence deeply troubled, and betook himself to\nthe stables, where he wept long and bitterly, for he was altogether\nwithout hope that he would ever be able to recover the princess\u2019s ring.\nThe fairy horse, when he saw his master thus heavily stricken with grief\nand weeping so piteously, asked him what evil could have come to him to\nmake him shed such bitter tears; and after Livoretto had told him the\ncause thereof, the horse thus addressed his master: \u2018Ah, my poor master!\ncease, I pray you, to talk in this strain. Remember the words that the\nfish spake to you, and open your ears to hear what I shall say, and take\ngood heed to carry out everything as I shall direct you. Go back to the\nsultan and ask him for all you may need for your enterprise, and then\nset about it with a confident spirit, and have no doubts.\u2019 Livoretto\ntherefore did exactly what the horse commanded him to do, no more and no\nless; and, after having travelled for some time, came at last to that\nparticular spot where he had crossed the river with the princess, and\nthere he laid the three scales of the fish on the green turf of the\nbank. Whereupon the fish, gliding through the bright and limpid stream,\nleaping now to this side and now to that, swam up to where Livoretto\nstood with every manifestation of joy and gladness, and, having brought\nout of his mouth the rare and precious ring, he delivered it into\nLivoretto\u2019s hand, and when he had taken back his three scales he plunged\nbeneath the water and disappeared.\n\nAs soon as Livoretto had got the ring safely back, all his sorrow at\nonce gave place to gladness, and without any delay he took his way home\nto Cairo, and when he had come into the sultan\u2019s presence and had made\nformal obeisance to him, he presented the ring to the princess. The\nsultan, as soon as he saw that her wishes had been fulfilled by the\nrestoration of the precious ring she had desired so ardently, began to\ncourt her with the most tender and amorous caresses and flattering\nspeeches, hoping thereby to induce her to lie with him that night; but\nall his supplications and wooings were in vain, for the princess said to\nhim: \u2018Sir, do not think to deceive me with your fine words and false\nspeeches. I swear to you that you shall never take your pleasure of me\nuntil that ruffian, that false rascal who entrapped me with his horse\nand conveyed me hither, shall have brought me some of the water of\nlife.\u2019 The sultan, who was anxious not to cross or contradict in any way\nthis lady of whom he was so much enamoured, but did all in his power to\nplease her, straightway summoned Livoretto, and bade him in a severe\ntone to go forth and to bring back with him some of the water of life,\nor to lose his head.\n\nLivoretto, when he heard the impossible demand that was made upon him,\nwas terribly overcome with grief; moreover, the wrath which was kindled\nin his heart burst out into a flame, and he complained bitterly that the\nsultan should offer him so wretched a return as this for all the\nfaithful service he had given, and for all the heavy and prolonged\nfatigue he had undergone, putting his own life the while in the most\nimminent danger. But the sultan, burning with love, was in no mind to\nset aside the purpose he had formed for satisfying the wishes of the\nlady he loved so much, and let it be known that he would have the water\nof life found for her at any cost. So when Livoretto went out of his\nmaster\u2019s presence he betook himself, as was his wont, to the stables,\ncursing his evil fortune and weeping bitterly all the while. The horse,\nwhen he saw the heavy grief in which his master was, and listened to his\nbitter lamentations, spake to him thus: \u2018O my master! why do you torment\nyourself in this fashion? Tell me if any fresh ill has happened to you.\nCalm yourself as well as you can, and remember that a remedy is to be\nfound for every evil under the sun, except for death.\u2019 And when the\nhorse had heard the reason of Livoretto\u2019s bitter weeping, it comforted\nhim with gentle words, bidding him recall to memory what had been spoken\nto him by the falcon which he had delivered from its frozen bonds of\nice, and the valuable gift of the two feathers. Whereupon the unhappy\nLivoretto, having taken heed of all the horse said to him, mounted it\nand rode away. He carried with him a small phial of glass, well sealed\nat the mouth, and this he made fast to his girdle. Then he rode onward\nand onward till he came to the spot where he had set the falcon at\nliberty, and there he planted the two feathers in the bank of the river\naccording to the direction he had received, and suddenly the falcon\nappeared in the air and asked him what his need might be. To this\nLivoretto answered that he wanted some of the water of life; and the\nfalcon, when he heard these words, cried out, \u2018Alas, alas, gentle\nknight! the thing you seek is impossible. You will never get it by your\nown power, because the fountain from which it springs is always guarded\nand narrowly watched by two savage lions and by two dragons, who roar\nhorribly day and night without ceasing, and mangle miserably and devour\nall those who would approach the fountain to take of the water. But now,\nas a recompense for the great service you once rendered me, take the\nphial which hangs at your side, and fasten it under my right wing, and\nsee that you depart not from this place until I shall have returned.\u2019\n\nWhen Livoretto had done all this as the falcon had ordered, the bird\nrose up from the earth with the phial attached to its wing, and flew\naway to the region where was the fountain of the water of life, and,\nhaving secretly filled the phial with the water, returned to the place\nwhere Livoretto was, and gave to him the phial. Then he took up his two\nfeathers and flew away out of sight.\n\nLivoretto, in great joy that he had indeed procured some of the precious\nwater, without making any more delay returned to Cairo in haste, and,\nhaving arrived there, he presented himself to the sultan, who was\npassing the time in pleasant converse with Bellisandra, his beloved\nlady. The sultan took the water of life, and in high glee gave it to the\nprincess, and, as soon as she could call this precious fluid her own, he\nrecommenced his entreaties that she would, according to her promise,\nyield herself to his pleasure. But she, firm as a strong tower beaten\nabout by the raging winds, declared that she would never consent to\ngratify his desire unless he should first cut off with his own hands the\nhead of that Livoretto who had been to her the cause of so great shame\nand disaster. When the sultan heard this savage demand of the cruel\nprincess, he was in no degree moved to comply with it, because it seemed\nto him a most shameful thing that, as a recompense for all the great\nlabours he had accomplished, Livoretto should be thus cruelly bereft of\nlife. But the treacherous and wicked princess, resolutely determined to\nwork her nefarious purpose, snatched up a naked dagger, and with all the\ndaring and violence of a man struck the youth in the throat while the\nsultan was standing by, and, because there was no one present with\ncourage enough to give succour to the unhappy Livoretto, he fell dead.\n\nAnd not content with this cruel outrage, the bloody-minded girl hewed\noff his head from his shoulders, and, having chopped his flesh into\nsmall pieces, and torn up his nerves, and broken his hard bones and\nground them to a fine powder, she took a large bowl of copper, and\nlittle by little she threw therein the pounded and cut-up flesh,\ncompounding it with the bones and the nerves as women of a household are\nwont to do when they make a great pasty with a leavened crust thereto.\nAnd after all was well kneaded, and the cut-up flesh thoroughly blended\nwith the powdered bones and the nerves, the princess fashioned out of\nthe mixed-up mass the fine and shapely image of a man, and this she\nsprinkled with the water of life out of the phial, and straightway the\nyoung man was restored to life from death more handsome and more\ngraceful than he had ever been before.\n\nThe sultan, who felt the weight of his years heavy upon him, no sooner\nsaw this amazing feat and the great miracle which was wrought, than he\nwas struck with astonishment and stood as one confounded. Then he felt a\ngreat longing to be made again a youth, so he begged Bellisandra to\ntreat him in the same way as she had treated Livoretto. Then the\nprincess, who tarried not a moment to obey this command of the sultan,\ntook up the sharp knife which was still wet with Livoretto\u2019s blood, and,\nhaving seized him by the throat with her left hand, held him fast while\nshe dealt him a mortal blow in the breast. Then she commanded the slaves\nto throw the body of the sultan out of the window into the deep ditch\nwhich ran round the walls of the palace, and thus, instead of being\nrestored to youth as was Livoretto, he became food for dogs after the\nmiserable end he made.\n\nAfter she had wrought this terrible deed the Princess Bellisandra was\ngreatly feared and reverenced by all in the city on account of the\nstrange and marvellous power that was in her, and when the news was\nbrought to her that the young man was a son of Dalfreno, King of Tunis,\nand that his rightful name was Livoretto, she wrote a letter to the old\nfather, giving him therein a full account of all the amazing accidents\nwhich had befallen his son, and begging him most urgently to come at\nonce to Cairo in order that he might be present at the nuptials of\nherself and Livoretto. And King Dalfreno, when he heard this good news\nabout his son\u2014of whom no word had been brought since he left Tunis with\nhis brother\u2014rejoiced greatly, and, having put all his affairs in good\norder, betook himself to Cairo and was welcomed by the whole city with\nthe most distinguished marks of honour. After the space of a few days\nBellisandra and Livoretto were married amidst the rejoicings of the\nwhole people, and thus with the princess as his lawful spouse, with\nsumptuous triumphs and feastings, and with the happiest omens, Livoretto\nwas made the Sultan of Cairo, where for many years he governed his realm\nin peace and lived a life of pleasure and tranquillity. Dalfreno tarried\nin Cairo a few days after the nuptials, and then took leave of his son\nand daughter-in-law and returned to Tunis safe and sound.\n\nAs soon as Arianna had come to the end of her interesting story, she\npropounded her enigma forthwith, in order that the rule which governed\nthe entertainment might be strictly kept:\n\n                 Small what though my compass be,\n                 A mighty furnace gendered me.\n                 The covering which round me clings,\n                 Is what from marshy plain upsprings.\n                 My soul, which should be free as air,\n                 Is doomed a prisoner close to fare.\n                 It is a liquor bland and sweet.\n                 No jest is this which I repeat:\n                 All silken are my festal clothes,\n                 And man will put me to his nose,\n                 To make me all my charms disclose.\n\nAll those assembled listened with the keenest attention to the ingenious\nenigma set forth by Arianna, and they made her repeat it over and over\nagain, but not one of the whole company proved to have wit sharp enough\nfor the disentangling thereof. At last the fair Arianna gave the\nsolution in these words: \u201cLadies and gentlemen, my enigma is supposed to\ndescribe a little flask of rose water, which has a body of glass born in\na fiery furnace. Its covering comes from the marshes, for it is made of\nstraw, and the soul which is contained within is the rose water. The\ngown or robe with which it is surrounded is the vessel, and whosoever\nsees it puts it under his nose to enjoy the odour thereof.\u201d\n\nAs soon as Arianna had given the solution of her enigma, Lauretta, who\nwas seated next to her, remembered that it was her turn to speak.\nWherefore without waiting for any further command from the Signora she\nthus began.\n\n\n\n\n                            THE THIRD FABLE.\n\n  =Biancabella, the daughter of Lamberico, Marquis of Monferrato, is\n      sent away by the stepmother of Ferrandino, King of Naples, in\n      order that she may be put to death; but the assassins only cut off\n      her hands and put out her eyes. Afterwards she, her hurts having\n      been healed by a snake, returns happily to Ferrandino.=\n\n\nIt is praiseworthy, or even absolutely necessary, that a woman, of\nwhatever state or condition she may be, should bear herself with\nprudence in each and every undertaking she may essay, for without\nprudence nothing will bring itself to a commendable issue. And if a\ncertain stepmother, of whom I am about to tell you, had used it with due\nmoderation when she plotted wickedly to take another\u2019s life, she would\nnot herself have been cut off by divine judgment in such fashion as I\nwill now relate to you.\n\nOnce upon a time, now many years ago, there reigned in Monferrato a\nmarquis called Lamberico, very puissant, both on account of his\nlordships and his great wealth, but wanting in children to carry on his\nname. He was, forsooth, mighty anxious for progeny, but this bounty of\nheaven was denied to him. Now one day it chanced that the marchioness\nhis wife was walking for her pleasure in the palace garden, and, being\nsuddenly overcome by sleep, she sat down at the foot of a tree and\nslumber fell upon her. While she slept gently there crept up to her side\na very small snake, which, having passed stealthily under her clothes\nwithout arousing her by its presence, made its way into her body, and by\nsubtle windings penetrated even into her womb, and there lay quiet.\nBefore long time had elapsed the marchioness, with no small pleasure to\nherself, and with the highest delight of all the state, proved to be\nwith child, and, when the season of her lying-in came, she was delivered\nof a female child, round the neck of which there was coiled three times\nsomething in the similitude of a serpent. When the midwives, who were in\nattendance upon the marchioness, saw this, they were much affrighted;\nbut the snake, without causing any hurt whatsoever, untwined itself from\nthe infant\u2019s neck, and, winding itself along the floor and stretching\nitself out, made its way into the garden.\n\nNow when the child had been duly cared for and clothed, the nurses\nhaving washed it clean in a bath of clear water and swathed it in\nsnow-white linen, they began to see, little by little, that round about\nits neck was a collar of gold, fashioned with the most subtle handiwork.\nSo fine was it, and so lovely, that it seemed to shed its lustre from\nbetween the skin and the flesh, just as the most precious jewels are\nwont to shine out from a closure of transparent crystal, and, moreover,\nit encircled the neck of the infant just as many times as the little\nserpent had cast its folds thereabout. The little girl, to whom, on\naccount of her exceeding loveliness, the name of Biancabella was given,\ngrew up in such goodliness and beauty that it seemed as if she must be\nsprung from divine and not from human stock. When she had come to the\nage of ten years it chanced that one day she went with her nurse upon a\nterrace, from whence she observed a fair garden full of roses and all\nmanner of other lovely flowers. Then, turning towards the nurse who had\nher in charge, she demanded of her what garden that was which she had\nnever seen before. To this the nurse replied that it was a place which\nher mother called her own garden, and one, moreover, in which she was\nwont often to take her recreation. Then said the child to her: \u2018I have\nnever seen anything so fair before, and I had fain go into it and walk\nthere.\u2019 Then the nurse, taking Biancabella by the hand, led her into the\ngarden, and, having suffered the child to go a little distance apart\nfrom her, she sat down under the shade of a leafy beech-tree and settled\nherself to sleep, letting the little girl take her pleasure the while in\nroaming about the garden. Biancabella, who was altogether charmed with\nthe loveliness of the place, ran about, now here and now there,\ngathering flowers, and, at last, when she felt somewhat tired, she sat\ndown under the shadow of a tree. Now scarcely had the child seated\nherself upon the ground when there appeared a little snake, which crept\nup close to her side. Biancabella, as soon as she saw the beast, was\nmightily alarmed, and was about to cry out, when the snake thus\naddressed her: \u2018Cry not, I beg you, neither disturb yourself, nor have\nany fear, for know that I am your sister, born on the same day as\nyourself and at the same birth, and that Samaritana is my name. And I\nnow tell you that, if you will be obedient to what I shall command you,\nI will make you happy in your life; but if, on the other hand, you\ndisobey me, you will come to be the most luckless, the most wretched\nwoman the world has ever yet seen. Wherefore, go your way now, without\nfear of any sort, and to-morrow cause to be brought into this garden two\nvessels, of which let one be filled with pure milk, and the other with\nthe finest water of roses. Then you must come to me by yourself without\ncompanions.\u2019\n\nWhen the serpent was gone the little girl rose up from her seat and went\nback to seek her nurse, whom she found still sleeping, and, having\naroused her, she returned with her to the palace without saying aught of\nwhat had befallen her. And when the morrow had come Biancabella chanced\nto be with her mother alone in the chamber, and the mother remarked that\nthe child bore upon her face a melancholy look. Whereupon she said:\n\u2018Biancabella, what ails you that you put on so discontented a face? You\nare wont to be lively and merry enough, but now you seem all sad and\nwoebegone.\u2019 To this Biancabella replied: \u2018There is nothing amiss with\nme; it is only that I want to have taken into the garden two vessels, of\nwhich one shall be filled with pure milk and the other of the finest\nwater of roses.\u2019 The mother answered: \u2018And why do you let yourself be\ntroubled by so small a matter as this, my child? Do you not know that\neverything here belongs to you?\u2019 Then the marchioness caused to be\nbrought to her two vessels, large and beautiful, filled, the one with\nmilk and the other with rose water, and had them carried into the\ngarden.\n\nWhen the hour appointed by the serpent had come, Biancabella, without\ntaking any other damsel to bear her company, repaired to the garden,\nand, having opened the door thereof, she went in and made fast the\nentrance, and then seated herself upon the ground at the spot where the\ntwo vessels had been placed. Almost as soon as she had sat down the\nserpent appeared and came near her, and straightway commanded her to\nstrip off all her clothes, and then, naked as she was, to step into the\nvessel which was filled with milk. When she had done this, the serpent\ntwined itself about her, thus bathing her body in every part with the\nwhite milk and licking her all over with its tongue, rendering her pure\nand perfect in every part where, peradventure, aught that was faulty\nmight have been found. Next, having bid her come out of the vessel of\nmilk, the serpent made her enter the one which was filled with rose\nwater, whereupon all her limbs were scented with odours so sweet and\nrestorative that she felt as if she were filled with fresh life. Then\nthe serpent bade her put on her clothes once more, giving her at the\nsame time express command that she should hold her peace as to what had\nbefallen her, and to speak no word thereanent even to her father and\nmother. For the serpent willed that no other woman in all the world\nshould be found to equal Biancabella in beauty or in grace. And finally,\nafter she had bestowed upon her every good quality, the serpent crept\naway to its hiding-place.\n\n[Illustration: Biancabella and the Serpent]\n\nWhen this was done Biancabella left the garden and returned to the\npalace. Her mother, when she perceived how her daughter had become more\nlovely and gracious than ever, and fairer than any other damsel in the\nworld, was astonished beyond measure and knew not what to say. Wherefore\nshe questioned the young girl as to what she had done to indue herself\nwith such surpassing loveliness; but Biancabella had no answer to give\nher. Hereupon the marchioness took a comb and began to comb and dress\nher daughter\u2019s fair locks, and forthwith from the girl\u2019s hair there fell\ndown pearls and all manner of precious stones, and when Biancabella went\nto wash her hands roses and violets and lovely flowers of all sorts\nsprang up around them, and the odours which arose from these were so\nsweet that it seemed as if the place had indeed become an earthly\nparadise. Her mother, when she saw this marvel, ran to find Lamberico\nher husband, and, full of maternal pride, thus addressed him: \u2018My lord,\nheaven has bestowed upon us a daughter who is the sweetest, the\nloveliest, and the most exquisite work nature ever produced. For besides\nthe divine beauty and grace in her, which is manifest to all eyes,\npearls and gems and all other kinds of precious stones fall from her\nhair, and\u2014to name something yet more marvellous\u2014round about her white\nhands spring up roses and violets and all manner of flowers which give\nout the sweetest odours to all those who may come near her to wonder at\nthe sight. All this I tell to you I assuredly would never have believed\nhad I not looked thereon with my own eyes.\u2019\n\nHer husband, who was of an unbelieving nature, was at first disinclined\nto put faith in his wife\u2019s words, and treated her speech as a subject\nfor laughter and ridicule, but she went on plying him without ceasing\nwith accounts of what she had witnessed, so that he determined to see\nfor himself how the matter really stood. Then, having made them bring\nhis daughter into his presence, he found about her even more marvellous\nthings than his wife had described, and on account of what he saw he\nrejoiced exceedingly, and in his pride swore a great oath that there was\nin the whole world no man worthy to be united to her in wedlock.\n\nVery soon the fame and glory of the supreme and immortal beauty of\nBiancabella began to spread itself through the whole world, and many\nkings and princes and nobles came together from all parts in order to\nwin her love and favour and have her to wife, but not one of all these\nsuitors was counted worthy to enjoy her, inasmuch as each one of them\nproved to be lacking in respect of one thing or another. But at last one\nday there came a-wooing Ferrandino, King of Naples, who by his prowess\nand by his illustrious name blazed out resplendent like the sun in the\nmidst of the smaller luminaries, and, having presented himself to the\nmarquis, demanded of him the hand of his daughter in marriage. The\nmarquis, seeing that the suitor was seemly of countenance, and well knit\nin person, and full of grace, besides being a prince of great power and\npossessions and wealth, gave his consent to the nuptials at once, and,\nhaving summoned his daughter, without further parleying the two were\nbetrothed by joining of hands and by kissing one another.\n\nScarcely were the rites of betrothal completed, when Biancabella called\nback to mind the words which her sister Samaritana had so lovingly\nspoken to her, wherefore she withdrew herself from the presence of her\nspouse under the pretext that she had certain business of her own to see\nto, and, having gone to her own chamber, made fast the door thereof from\nwithin, and then passed by a secret thoroughfare into the garden. When\nshe had come into the garden, she began to call upon Samaritana in a low\nvoice. But the serpent no more manifested herself as heretofore, and\nBiancabella, when she perceived this, was mightily astonished, and,\nafter she had searched through every part of the garden without finding\na trace of Samaritana, a deep grief fell upon her, for she knew that\nthis thing had happened to her because she had not given due attention\nand obedience to the commands which her sister had laid upon her.\nWherefore, grieving and bewailing heavily on account of the mischance\nthat had befallen her, she returned into her chamber, and having opened\nthe door, she went to rejoin her spouse, who had been waiting a long\ntime for her, and sat down beside him. When the marriage ceremonies were\ncompleted, Ferrandino led his bride away with him to Naples, where, with\nsumptuous state and magnificent festivities and the sound of trumpets,\nthey were welcomed by the whole city with the highest honour.\n\nIt happened that there was living at Naples Ferrandino\u2019s stepmother, who\nhad two daughters of her own, both of them deformed and ugly; but,\nnotwithstanding this, she had set her heart on marrying one of them to\nthe king. But now, when all hope was taken from her of ever\naccomplishing this design of hers, her rage and anger against\nBiancabella became so savage that she could scarcely endure to look upon\nher. But she was careful to conceal her animosity, feigning the while to\nhold Biancabella in all love and affection. Now by a certain freak of\nfortune the King of Tunis at this time began to set in array a mighty\nforce of armed men for service by land and likewise on sea, in order\nthat he might incite Ferrandino to make war (whether he did this because\nFerrandino had won Biancabella to wife, or for some other reason I know\nnot), and at the head of a very powerful army he had already passed the\nbounds of the kingdom of Naples. On this account it was necessary that\nFerrandino should straightway take up arms for the defence of his realm,\nand hurry to the field to confront his foe. Therefore, having settled\nhis affairs, and made provision of all things necessary for Biancabella\n(she being now with child), he gave her over to the care of his\nstepmother and set forth with his army.\n\nFerrandino had not long departed when this malevolent and froward-minded\nwoman made a wicked design on Biancabella\u2019s life, and, having summoned\ninto her presence certain retainers who were entirely devoted to her,\nshe charged them to conduct Biancabella with them to some place or\nother\u2014feigning that what they were doing was done for her recreation\u2014and\nthat they should not leave her until they had taken her life. Moreover,\nin order that she might be fully assured that they had discharged their\nduty, they were to bring back to her some sign of Biancabella\u2019s death.\nThese ruffians, prompt for any sort of ill-doing, at once prepared to\ncarry out the commands of their mistress, and making pretence of\nconducting Biancabella to some place where she might recreate herself,\nthey carried her away into a wood, and forthwith began to make\npreparation to kill her. But when they perceived how lovely she was, and\ngracious, they were moved to pity and had not the heart to take her\nlife. So they cut off both her hands and tore her eyes out of her head,\nand these they carried back to the stepmother as certain proofs that\nBiancabella had been killed by them. When this impious and cruel woman\nsaw what they brought in their hands, her joy and satisfaction were\nunbounded, and, scheming still in her wicked heart to carry out her\nnefarious designs, she spread through all the kingdom a report that both\nher own daughters were dead, the one of a continued fever, and the other\nof an imposthume of the heart, which had caused her death by\nsuffocation. Moreover, she went on to declare that Biancabella,\ndisordered by grief at the king\u2019s departure, had miscarried of a child,\nand had likewise been seized with a tertian fever which had wasted her\nso cruelly that there was more cause to fear her death than to hope for\nher recovery. But the scheme of this wicked cunning woman was to keep\none of her own daughters in the king\u2019s bed, maintaining the while that\nshe was Biancabella, shrunken and distempered by the fever.\n\nFerrandino, after he had attacked and put to rout the army of his foe,\nmarched homeward in all the triumph of victory, hoping to find his\nbeloved Biancabella full of joy and happiness, but in lieu of this he\nfound her (as he believed) lying in bed shrivelled, pale, and\ndisfigured. Then he went up to the bed and gazed closely at her face,\nand was overcome with astonishment when he looked upon the wreck she had\nbecome, and could hardly persuade himself that the woman he saw there\ncould really be Biancabella. Afterwards he bade her attendants comb her\nhair, and, in place of the gems and the precious jewels which were wont\nto fall from the fair locks of his wife, there came forth great worms\nwhich had been feeding on the wretched woman\u2019s flesh, and from the hands\nthere came forth, not the roses and the sweet-smelling flowers which\never sprang up around Biancabella\u2019s, but a foulness and filth which\ncaused a nauseous sickness to all who came near her. But the wicked old\nstepmother kept on speaking words of consolation to him, declaring that\nall this distemper sprang from nothing else than the lengthened course\nof the ailment which possessed her.\n\nIn the meantime the ill-fated Biancabella, bereft of her hands and blind\nin both her eyes, was left alone in that solitary place, and, finding\nherself in such cruel affliction, she called over and over again upon\nher sister Samaritana, beseeching her to come to her rescue; but no\nanswer came to her except from the resounding voice of Echo, who cried\naloud through all the place. And while the unhappy Biancabella was left\nin the agony of despair, conscious that she was cut off from all human\naid, there came into the wood a venerable old man, kindly of aspect and\nno less kindly in his heart. And he, when he listened to the sad and\nmournful voice which smote upon his hearing, made his way step by step\ntowards the place whence it came, and stopped when he found there a\nblind lady with her hands cut off who was bitterly mourning the sad fate\nwhich had overtaken her. When the good old man looked upon her, and saw\nhow sad was her condition, he could not bear to leave her thus in this\nwilderness of broken trees and thorns and brambles, but, overcome by the\nfatherly pity within him, he led her home with him to his house, and\ngave her into the charge of his wife, commanding her very strictly to\ntake good care of the sufferer. Then he turned towards his three\ndaughters, who verily were as beautiful as three of the brightest stars\nof heaven, and exhorted them earnestly to keep her company, and to\nrender to her continually any loving service she might require, and to\ntake care that she wanted for nothing. But the wife, who had a hard\nheart, and none of the old man\u2019s pity, was violently moved to anger by\nthese words of her husband, and, turning towards him, cried out:\n\u2018Husband, what is this you would have us do with this woman, all blind\nand maimed as she is? Doubtless she has been thus treated as a\npunishment for her sins, and for no good behaviour.\u2019 In reply to this\nspeech the old man spake in an angry tone: \u2018You will carry out all the\ncommands I give you. If you should do aught else, you need not look to\nsee me here again.\u2019\n\nIt happened that while the unhappy Biancabella was left in charge of the\nwife and the three daughters, conversing with them of various things,\nand meditating over her own great misfortunes, she besought one of the\nmaidens to do her a favour and comb her hair a little. But when the\nmother heard this she was much angered, forasmuch as she would not allow\neither of her children to minister in any way to the unfortunate\nsufferer. But the daughter\u2019s heart was more given to pity than was her\nmother\u2019s, and moreover she called to mind what her father\u2019s commands had\nbeen, and was conscious of some subtle air of dignity and high breeding\nwhich seemed to emanate from Biancabella as a token of her lofty estate.\nSo she straightway unfastened the apron from her waist, and, having\nspread it on the floor beside Biancabella, began to comb her hair softly\nand carefully. Scarcely had she passed the comb thrice through the blond\ntresses before there fell out of them pearls and rubies and diamonds and\nall sorts of precious stones. Now the mother, when she saw what had\nhappened, was seized with dread, and stood as one struck with amazement;\nmoreover, the great dislike which at first she had harboured towards\nBiancabella, now gave way to a feeling of kindly affection. And when the\nold man had come back to the house they all ran to embrace him,\nrejoicing with him greatly over the stroke of good fortune which had\ncome to deliver them from the bitter poverty which had hitherto\noppressed them. Then Biancabella asked them to bring her a bucket of\nclear water, and bade them wash therewith her face and her maimed arms,\nand from these, while all were standing by, roses and violets and other\nflowers in great plenty fell down; whereupon they all deemed she must be\nsome divine personage, and no mortal woman.\n\nNow after a season it came to pass that Biancabella felt a desire to\nreturn to the spot where first the old man had found her. But he and his\nwife and his daughters, seeing how great were the benefits they gathered\nfrom her presence, loaded her with endearments, and besought her very\nearnestly that she would on no account depart from them, bringing\nforward many reasons why she should not carry out her wish. But she,\nhaving resolutely made up her mind on this point, determined at all\nhazards to go away, promising at the same time to return to them\nhereafter. The old man, when he saw how firmly she was set on her\ndeparture, took her with him without any further delay back to the place\nwhere he had come upon her. And when they had reached this spot she gave\ndirections to the old man that he should depart and leave her, bidding\nhim also to come back there when evening should have fallen, in order\nthat she might return with him to his house.\n\nAs soon as the old man had gone his way the ill-fated Biancabella began\nto wander up and down the gloomy wood, calling loudly upon Samaritana,\nso that her cries and lamentations rose up even to the high heavens. But\nSamaritana, though she was all the while nigh to her sister, and had\nnever for one moment abandoned her, refused as yet to answer to her\ncall. Whereupon the wretched Biancabella, deeming that she was\nscattering her words upon the heedless winds, cried out, \u2018Alas! what\nfurther concern have I in this world, seeing that I have been bereft of\nmy eyes and of my hands, and now at last all human help is denied to\nme.\u2019 And as she thus spoke there came upon her a sort of frenzy, which\ntook away from her all hope of deliverance from her present evil case,\nand urged her, in despair, to lay hands upon her own life. But because\nthere was at hand no means by which she could put an end to her\nmiserable being, she found her way to a pool of water, which lay not far\ndistant, in the mind there to drown herself. But when she had come to\nthe shore of the pool, and stood thereon ready to cast herself down into\nthe water, there sounded in her ears a voice like thunder, saying:\n\u2018Alas, alas, wretched one! keep back from self-murder, nor desire to\ntake your own life, which you ought to preserve for some better end.\u2019\nWhereupon Biancabella, alarmed by this mighty voice, felt as it were\nevery one of her hairs standing erect on her head, but after a moment it\nseemed to her that she knew the voice; so, having plucked up a little\ncourage, she said: \u2018Who are you who wander about these woods,\nproclaiming your presence to me by your kindly and pitiful words?\u2019 Then\nthe same voice replied: \u2018I am Samaritana, your sister, for whom you have\nbeen calling so long and painfully.\u2019 And Biancabella, when she listened\nto these words, answered in a voice all broken by agonized sobs, and\nsaid: \u2018Alas, my sister! come to my aid, I beseech you; and if at any\npast time I have shown myself disregardful of your counsel, I pray you\nto pardon me. Indeed I have erred, and I confess my fault, but my\nmisdeed was the fruit of my ignorance, and not of my wickedness; for be\nsure, if it had come from wickedness, divine justice would not have\nsuffered me, as the author of it, so long to cumber the earth.\u2019\nSamaritana, when she heard her sister\u2019s woes set forth in this pitiful\nstory, and witnessed the cruel wrongs that had been done her, spake some\ncomforting words, and then, having gathered divers medicinal herbs of\nwonderful power and virtue, she spread these over the places where\nBiancabella\u2019s eyes had been. Then she brought to her sister two hands,\nand having joined these on to the wounded wrists, at once made them\nwhole and sound again. And when she had wrought this marvellous feat\nSamaritana threw off from herself the scaly skin of the serpent, and\nstood revealed as a maiden of lovely aspect.\n\nThe sun had already begun to veil its glittering rays, and the evening\nshadows were creeping around, when the old man with anxious hasty steps\nreturned to the wood, where he found Biancabella sitting beside a maiden\nwellnigh as lovely as herself. And he gazed steadily into her beauteous\nface, standing the while like to a man struck with wonder, and could\nscarcely believe it was Biancabella he looked upon. But when he was sure\nit was really she, he cried: \u2018My daughter, were you not this morning\nblind and bereft of your hands? How comes it that you have been thus\nspeedily made whole again?\u2019 Biancabella answered him: \u2018My cure has been\nworked, not by anything I myself have done, but by the virtue and the\nkind ministering of this my dear sister who sits here beside me.\u2019\nWhereupon both the sisters arose from the place where they were seated,\nand rejoicing greatly they went together with the old man to his house,\nwhere the wife and the three daughters gave them a most loving and\nhospitable welcome.\n\nIt came to pass after the lapse of many days that Samaritana and\nBiancabella, and the old man with his wife and his three daughters, left\ntheir cottage and betook themselves to the city of Naples, purposing to\ndwell there, and, when they had entered the city, they chanced to come\nupon a vacant space hard by the palace of the king, where they\ndetermined to make their resting-place. And when the dark night had\nfallen around them, Samaritana took in her hand a twig of laurel and\nthrice struck the earth therewith, uttering certain mystic words the\nwhile, and almost before the sound of these words had ceased there\nsprang up forthwith before them a palace, the most beautiful and\nsumptuous that ever was seen. The next morning Ferrandino the king went\nearly to look out of the window, and when he beheld the rich and\nmarvellous palace standing where there had been nothing the night\nbefore, he was altogether overcome with amazement, and called his wife\nand his stepmother to come and see it; but these were greatly disturbed\nin mind at the sight thereof, for a boding came upon them that some ill\nwas about to befall them.\n\nWhile Ferrandino was standing, scanning closely the palace before him,\nand examining it in all parts, he lifted his eyes to a certain window,\nand there, in the chamber inside, he beheld two ladies of a beauty more\nrich and dazzling than the sun. And no sooner had his eyes fallen upon\nthem than he felt a tempest of passion rising in his heart, for he\nassuredly recognized in one of them some similitude of that loveliness\nwhich had once been Biancabella\u2019s. And when he asked who they were, and\nfrom what land they had come, the answer which was given him was that\nthey were two ladies who had been exiled from their home, and that they\nhad journeyed from Persia, with all their possessions, to take up their\nabode in the noble city of Naples. When he heard this, Ferrandino sent a\nmessenger to inquire whether he would be doing them any pleasure in\nwaiting upon them, accompanied by the ladies of his court, to pay them a\nvisit of welcome, and to this gracious message they sent an answer,\nsaying that it would indeed be a very precious honour to be thus visited\nby him, but that it would be more decorous and respectful if they, as\nsubjects, should pay this duty to him, than that he, as lord and king,\nshould visit them.\n\nHereupon Ferrandino bade them summon the queen and the other ladies of\nthe court, and with these (although at first they refused to go, being\nso greatly in fear of their impending ruin) he betook himself to the\npalace of the two ladies, who, with all friendly signs of welcome and\nwith modest bearing, gave him the reception due to a highly honoured\nguest, showing him the wide loggias, and the roomy halls, and the richly\nornamented chambers, the walls of which were lined with alabaster and\nfine porphyry, while about them were to be seen on all sides carven\nfigures which looked like life. And when they had exhibited to the king\nall parts of the sumptuous palace, the two fair young women approached\nFerrandino and besought him most gracefully that he would deign to come\none day with his queen and dine at their table. The king, whose heart\nwas not hard enough to remain unaffected by all he had seen, and who was\ngifted moreover with a magnanimous and liberal spirit, graciously\naccepted the invitation. And when he had tendered his thanks to the two\nladies for the noble welcome they had given him, he and the queen\ndeparted together and returned to their own palace. When the day fixed\nfor the banquet had come, the king and the queen and the stepmother,\nclad in their royal robes and accompanied by some of the ladies of the\ncourt, went to do honour to the magnificent feast set out in the most\nsumptuous fashion. And after he had given them water to wash their\nhands, the seneschal bade them conduct the king and the queen to a table\napart, set somewhat higher, but at the same time near to the others, and\nhaving done this, he caused all the rest of the guests to seat\nthemselves according to their rank, and in this fashion they all feasted\nmerrily and joyfully together.\n\nWhen the stately feast had come to an end and the tables had been\ncleared, Samaritana rose from her seat, and turning towards the king and\nthe queen, spake thus: \u2018Your majesties, in order that the time may not\nbe irksome to us, as it may if we sit here idle, let one or other of us\npropose something in the way of diversion which will let us pass the day\npleasantly.\u2019 And when the guests heard what Samaritana said, they all\nagreed that she had spoken well, but yet there was found no one bold\nenough to make such a proposition as she had called for. Whereupon\nSamaritana, when she perceived they were all silent, went on: \u2018Since it\nappears that no one of this company is prepared to put forward anything,\nI, with your majesty\u2019s leave, will bid come hither one of our own\nmaidens, whose singing perchance will give you no little pleasure.\u2019 And\nhaving summoned the damsel, whose name was Silveria, into the\nbanqueting-room, Samaritana commanded her to take a lyre in her hand and\nto sing thereto something in honour of the king which should be worthy\nof their praise. And the damsel, obedient to her lady\u2019s command, took\nher lyre, and, having placed herself before the king, sang in a soft and\npleasant voice while she touched the resounding strings with the\nplectrum, telling in her chant the story of Biancabella from beginning\nto end, but not mentioning her by name. When the whole of the story had\nbeen set forth, Samaritana again rose to her feet, and demanded of the\nking what would be the fitting punishment, what torture would be cruel\nenough for those who had put their hands to such an execrable crime.\nThen the stepmother, who deemed that she might perchance get a release\nfor her misdeeds by a prompt and ready reply, did not wait for the king\nto give his answer, but cried out in a bold and confident tone, \u2018Surely\nto be cast into a furnace heated red hot would be but a light punishment\nfor the offences of such a one.\u2019 Then Samaritana, with her countenance\nall afire with vengeance and anger, made answer to her: \u2018Thou thyself\nart the very same guilty and barbarous woman, through whose nefarious\nworking all these cruel wrongs have been done; and thou, wicked and\naccursed one, hast condemned thyself to a righteous penalty out of thine\nown mouth.\u2019 Then Samaritana, turning towards the king with a look of joy\nupon her face, said to him, \u2018Behold! this is your Biancabella, this is\nthe wife you loved so dearly, this is she without whom you could not\nlive.\u2019 Then, to prove the truth of her words, Samaritana gave the word\nto the three daughters of the old man that they should forthwith, in the\npresence of the king, begin to comb Biancabella\u2019s fair and wavy hair,\nand scarcely had they begun when (as has been told before) there fell\nout of her tresses many very precious and exquisite jewels, and from her\nhands came forth roses exhaling the sweet scents of morning, and all\nmanner of odoriferous flowers. And for yet greater certainty she pointed\nout to the king how the snow-white neck of Biancabella was encircled by\na fine chain of the most delicately wrought gold, which grew naturally\nbetween the skin and the flesh, and shone out as through the clearest\ncrystal.\n\nWhen the king perceived by these manifest and convincing signs that she\nwas indeed his own Biancabella, he began to weep for the joy he felt,\nand to embrace her tenderly. But before he left that place he caused to\nbe heated hot a furnace, and into this he bade them cast the stepmother\nand her two daughters. Thus their repentance for their crimes came too\nlate, and they made a miserable end to their lives. And after this the\nthree daughters of the old man were given honourably in marriage, and\nthe King Ferrandino with Biancabella and Samaritana lived long and\nhappily, and when Ferrandino died his son succeeded to his kingdom.\n\nDuring the telling of Lauretta\u2019s story divers of the listeners were\nseveral times moved to tears, and, when she had brought it to an end,\nthe Signora bade her follow the example of those who had gone before\nher, and set forth her enigma. Therefore she, not waiting for any\nfurther command, gave it in the following words:\n\n                A proud and cruel maid I spied,\n                As through the flowery meads she hied.\n                Behind her trailed a lengthy train,\n                Upreared her head in high disdain.\n                And swiftly on her way she took,\n                And sharp her touch, and eke her look.\n                What though her tongue moves all around,\n                She utters neither voice nor sound.\n                She is long, and thin, and wise,\n                He can tell her name who tries.\n\nAll the company listened attentively to the enigma which Lauretta gave\nto them in her sportive way, and she, when she saw there was little\nlikelihood that anyone would find the solution thereof, spake thus:\n\u201cDear ladies, so as not to keep you any longer in suspense, or to weary\nyet more your minds, which must needs be somewhat harassed on account of\nthe pathetic story I have just told you, I will tell you the answer\nstraightway, if such be your pleasure. The damsel I described therein is\nnothing else than the serpent which, when it goes through the flowery\nmeadows, keeps its head erect and its tail trailing on the ground behind\nit, and frightens with its sharp eye everyone who may happen to behold\nit.\u201d\n\nAs soon as Lauretta had finished her speech everyone was much astonished\nthat the solution of the riddle had not been guessed by some one or\nother. And when she had resumed her seat the Signora made a sign to\nAlteria that she should tell them her fable, and she, having risen and\nmade obeisance to the Signora, began it forthwith.\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                           THE FOURTH FABLE.\n\n  =Fortunio, on account of an injury done to him by his supposed father\n      and mother, leaves them, and after much wandering, comes to a\n      wood, where he finds three animals, who do him good service.\n      Afterwards he goes to Polonia, where he gets to wife Doralice, the\n      king\u2019s daughter, as a reward for his prowess.=\n\n\nThere is a saying, very frequent in the mouths of common people, that it\nis not seemly to jest at affliction nor to make a mock at the truth;\nforasmuch as he who keeps his eyes and ears open, and holds his tongue,\nis not likely to injure his fellows, and may hope himself to live in\npeace.\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in one of the remoter districts of Lombardy\na man called Bernio, who, although he was not over well endowed with the\ngifts of fortune, was held to be in no way wanting with respect to good\nqualities of head and heart. This man took to wife a worthy and amiable\nwoman named Alchia, who, though she chanced to be of low origin, was\nnevertheless of good parts and exemplary conduct, and loved her husband\nas dearly as any woman could. This married pair greatly desired to have\nchildren, but such a gift of God was not granted to them, peradventure\nfor the reason that man often, in his ignorance, asks for those things\nwhich would not be to his advantage. Now, forasmuch as this desire for\noffspring still continued to possess them, and as fortune obstinately\nrefused to grant their prayer, they determined at last to adopt a child\nwhom they would nurture and treat in every way as if he were their own\nlegitimate son. So one morning early they betook themselves to a certain\nspot where young children who had been cast off by their parents were\noften left, and, having seen there one who appeared to them more seemly\nand attractive than the rest, they took him home with them, and brought\nhim up with the utmost care and good governance. Now after a time it\ncame to pass (according to the good pleasure of Him who rules the\nuniverse and tempers and modifies everything according to His will) that\nAlchia became with child, and when her time of delivery was come, was\nbrought to bed with a boy who resembled his father exactly. On this\naccount both father and mother rejoiced exceedingly, and called their\nson by the name of Valentino.\n\nThe infant was well nurtured, and grew up strong and healthy and\nwell-mannered; moreover, he loved so dearly his brother\u2014to whom the name\nof Fortunio had been given\u2014that he was inclined almost to fret himself\nto death whenever they chanced to be separated the one from the other.\nBut the genius of discord, the foe of everything that is good, becoming\naware of their warm and loving friendship, and being able no longer to\nsuffer their good understanding to continue, one day interposed between\nthem, and worked her evil will so effectively that before long the two\nfriends began to taste her bitter fruits. Wherefore as they were\nsporting together one day (after the manner of boys) they grew somewhat\nexcited over their game, and Valentino, who could not bear that Fortunio\nshould get any advantage over him in their play, became inflamed with\nviolent anger, and more than once called his companion a bastard and the\nson of a vile woman. Fortunio, when he heard these words, was much\nastonished, and perturbed as well, and turning to Valentino, he said to\nhim, \u2018And why am I a bastard?\u2019 In reply, Valentino, muttering angrily\nbetween his teeth, repeated what he had already said, and even more.\nWhereupon Fortunio, greatly grieved and disturbed in mind, gave over\nplaying and went forthwith to his so-called mother, and asked her\nwhether he was in sooth the son of Bernio and herself. Alchia answered\nthat he was, and, having learned that Fortunio had been insulted by\nValentino, she rated the latter soundly, and declared that she would\ngive him heavy chastisement if he should repeat his offence. But the\nwords which Alchia had spoken roused fresh suspicion in Fortunio, and\nmade him wellnigh certain that he was not her legitimate son; indeed,\nthere often came upon him the desire to put her to the test, to see\nwhether she really was his mother or not, and thus discover the truth.\nIn the end he questioned and importuned her so closely that she\nacknowledged he was not born of her, but that he had been adopted and\nbrought up in their house for the love of God and for the alleviation of\nthe misfortune which had been sent upon herself and her husband. These\nwords were as so many dagger-thrusts in the young man\u2019s heart, piling up\none sorrow upon another, and at last his grief grew beyond endurance;\nbut, seeing that he could not bring himself to seek refuge from his\ntrouble by a violent death, he determined to depart from Bernio\u2019s roof,\nand, in wandering up and down the world, to seek a better fortune.\n\nAlchia, when she perceived that Fortunio\u2019s desire to quit the house grew\nstronger every day, was greatly incensed against him, and, as she found\nherself powerless to dissuade him from his purpose, she heaped all sorts\nof curses upon him, praying that if ever he should venture upon the sea\nhe might be engulfed in the waves and swallowed up by the sirens, as\nships are often swallowed up by storms. Fortunio, driven on by a\nheadlong access of rage, took no heed of Alchia\u2019s malediction, and,\nwithout saying any further words of farewell, either to her or to\nBernio, departed, and took his way towards the east. He journeyed on,\npassing by marshes, by valleys, by rocks, and all kinds of wild and\ndesert spots, and at last, one day between sext and none, he came upon a\nthick and densely-tangled forest, in the midst of which, by strange\nchance, he found a wolf and an eagle and an ant, who were engaged in a\nlong and sharp contention over the body of a stag which they had lately\ncaptured, without being able to agree as to how the venison should be\ndivided amongst themselves. When Fortunio came upon the three animals\nthey were in the midst of their stubborn dispute, and not one was\ndisposed in any way to yield to the others; but after a while they\nagreed that this young man, who had thus unexpectedly come amongst them,\nshould adjudicate the matter in question, and assign to each one of them\nsuch part of the spoil as he might deem most fitting. Then, when they\nhad assented to these preliminaries, and had promised that they would be\nsatisfied with and observe the terms of any award he might make, even\nthough it might seem to be unjust, Fortunio readily undertook the task,\nand after he had carefully considered the case, he divided the prey\namongst them in the following manner. To the wolf, as to a voracious\nanimal and one very handy with his sharp teeth, he gave, as the guerdon\nof his toil in the chase, all the bones of the deer and all the lean\nflesh. To the eagle, a rapacious fowl, but furnished with no teeth, he\ngave the entrails, and all the fat lying round the lean parts and the\nbones. To the provident and industrious ant, which had none of that\nstrength which nature had bestowed upon the wolf and the eagle, he gave\nthe soft brains as her share of reward for the labour she had undergone.\nWhen the three animals understood the terms of this just and\ncarefully-considered decision, they were fully satisfied, and thanked\nFortunio as well as they could for the courtesy he had shown them.\n\nNow these three animals held\u2014and with justice\u2014that, of all the vices,\ningratitude was the most reprehensible; so with one accord they insisted\nthat the young man should not depart until they should have fully\nrewarded him for the great service he had done them. Wherefore the wolf,\nspeaking first, said: \u2018My brother, I give you the power, if at any time\nthe desire should come upon you to be a wolf instead of a man, to become\none forthwith, merely by saying the words, \u201cWould that I were a wolf!\u201d\nAt the same time you will be able to return to your former shape\nwhenever you may desire.\u2019 And in like manner both the eagle and the ant\nendowed him with power to take upon him their form and similitude.\n\nThen Fortunio, rejoicing greatly at the potent virtues thus given to\nhim, and rendering to all three of the animals the warmest gratitude for\ntheir boon, took his leave and wandered far abroad, until at last he\ncame to Polonia, a populous city of great renown, which was at that time\nunder the rule of Odescalco, a powerful and valorous sovereign, who had\nbut one child, a daughter called Doralice. Now the king was ambitious to\nfind a noble mate for this princess, and it chanced that, at the time\nwhen Fortunio arrived in Polonia, he had proclaimed throughout his\nkingdom that a grand tournament should be held in the city, and that the\nPrincess Doralice should be given in marriage to the man who should be\nthe victor in the jousts. And already many dukes and marquises and other\npowerful nobles had come together from all parts to contend for this\nnoble prize, and on the first day of the tournament, which had already\npassed, the honours of the tilting were borne off by a foul Saracen of\nhideous aspect and ungainly form, and with a face as black as pitch. The\nking\u2019s daughter, when she viewed the deformed and unseemly figure of the\nconqueror of the day, was overwhelmed with grief that fate should have\nawarded to such a one the victory in the joust, and, burying her face,\nwhich was crimson with shame, in her tender delicate hands, she wept and\nlamented sore, execrating her cruel and malignant destiny, and begging\nthat death might take her rather than that she should become the wife of\nthis misshapen barbarian. Fortunio, when he entered the city gate, noted\nthe festal array on all sides and the great concourse of people about\nthe streets, and when he learned the cause of all this magnificent\ndisplay he was straightway possessed with an ardent desire to prove his\nvalour by contending in the tournament, but when he came to consider\nthat he was lacking in all the apparel needful in such honourable\ncontests, his heart fell and heavy sorrow came over him. While he was in\nthis doleful mood it chanced that his steps led him past the palace of\nthe king, and raising his eyes from the ground he espied Doralice, the\ndaughter of the king, who was leaning out of one of the windows of her\napartment. She was surrounded by a group of lovely and highborn dames\nand maidens, but she shone out amongst them all on account of her\nbeauty, as the radiant glorious sun shines out amidst the lesser lights\nof heaven.\n\nBy-and-by, when the dark night had fallen, and all the ladies of the\ncourt had retired to their apartments, Doralice, restless and sad at\nheart, betook herself alone to a small and exquisitely ornamented\nchamber and gazed once more out into the night, and there below, as luck\nwould have it, was Fortunio. When the youth saw her standing solitary at\nthe open window, he was so overcome by the charms of her beauty that he\nforthwith whispered to himself in an amorous sigh: \u2018Ah! wherefore am I\nnot an eagle?\u2019 Scarcely had these words issued from his lips when he\nfound himself transformed into an eagle, whereupon he flew at once into\nthe window of the chamber, and, having willed to become a man again, was\nrestored to his own shape. He went forward with a light and joyful air\nto greet the princess, but she, as soon as she saw him, was filled with\nterror and began to cry out in a loud voice, just as if she were being\nattacked and torn by savage dogs. The king, who happened to be in an\napartment not far distant from his daughter\u2019s, heard her cries of alarm\nand ran immediately to seek the cause thereof, and, having heard from\nher that there was a young man in the room, he at once ordered it to be\nsearched in every part. But nothing of the sort was found, because\nFortunio had once more changed himself into an eagle and had flown out\nof the window. Hardly, however, had the father gone back to his chamber\nwhen the maiden began to cry aloud just the same as before, because,\nforsooth, Fortunio had once more come into her presence.\n\nBut Fortunio, when he again heard the terrified cries of the maiden,\nbegan to fear for his life, and straightway changed himself into an ant,\nand crept into hiding beneath the blond tresses of the lovely damsel\u2019s\nhair. Odescalco, hearing the loud outcries of his daughter, ran to her\nsuccour, but when he found nothing more this second time than he had\nfound before, he was greatly incensed against her, and threatened her\nharshly that if she should cry out again and disturb him he would play\nher some trick which would not please her, and thus he left her with\nangry words, suspecting that what had caused her trouble was some vision\nof one or other of the youths who for love of her had met their deaths\nin the tournament. Fortunio listened attentively to what the king said\nto his daughter, and, as soon as he had left the apartment, once more\nput off the shape of an ant and stood revealed in his own form.\nDoralice, who in the meanwhile had gone to bed, was so terror-stricken\nwhen she saw him that she tried to spring from her couch and to give the\nalarm, but she was not able to do this, because Fortunio placed one of\nhis hands on her lips, and thus spake: \u2018Signora, fear not that I have\ncome here to despoil you of your honour, or to steal aught that belongs\nto you. I am come rather to succour you to the best of my power, and to\nproclaim myself your most humble servant. If you cry out, one or other\nof two misfortunes will befall us, either your honour and fair name will\nbe tarnished, or you will be the cause of your death and of my own.\nTherefore, dear lady of my heart, take care lest at the same time you\ncast a stain upon your reputation and imperil the lives of us both.\u2019\n\nWhile Fortunio was thus speaking, Doralice was weeping bitterly, her\npresence of mind being completely overthrown by this unexpected\ndeclaration on his part, and the young man, when he perceived how\npowerfully agitated she was, went on addressing her in words gentle and\npersuasive enough to have melted the heart of a stone. At last,\nconquered by his words and tender manner, she softened towards him, and\nconsented to let him make his peace with her. And after a little, when\nshe saw how handsome the youth was in face, and how strong and well knit\nin body and limb, she fell a-thinking about the ugliness and deformity\nof the Saracen, who, as the conqueror in the jousts, must before long be\nthe master of her person. While these thoughts were passing through her\nmind the young man said to her: \u2018Dear lady, if I had the fitting\nequipment, how willingly would I enter the jousts to tilt on your\nbehalf, and my heart tells me that, were I to contend, I should surely\nconquer.\u2019 Whereupon the damsel in reply said: \u2018If this, indeed, were to\ncome to pass, if you should prove victorious in the lists, I would give\nmyself to you alone.\u2019 And when she saw what a well-disposed youth he\nwas, and how ardent in her cause, she brought forth a great quantity of\ngems and a heavy purse of gold, and bade him take them. Fortunio\naccepted them with his heart full of joy, and inquired of her what garb\nshe wished him to wear in the lists to-morrow. And she bade him array\nhimself in white satin, and in this matter he did as she commanded him.\n\nOn the following day Fortunio, encased in polished armour, over which he\nwore a surcoat of white satin richly embroidered with the finest gold,\nand studded with jewels most delicately carven, rode into the piazza\nunknown to anybody there present. He was mounted on a powerful and fiery\ncharger, which was caparisoned and decked in the same colours as its\nrider. The crowd, which had already come together to witness the grand\nspectacle of the tournament, no sooner caught sight of the gallant\nunknown champion, with lance in hand all ready for the fray, than every\nperson was lost in wonderment at so brave a sight, and each one, gazing\nfixedly at Fortunio, and astonished at his grace, began to inquire of\nhis neighbour: \u2018Ah! who can this knight be who rides so gallantly and\nsplendidly arrayed into the lists? Know you not what is his name?\u2019 In\nthe meantime Fortunio, having entered the lists, called upon some rival\nto advance, and for the first course the Saracen presented himself,\nwhereupon the two champions, keeping low the points of their trusty\nlances, rushed one upon the other like two lions loosened from their\nbonds, and so shrewd was the stroke dealt by Fortunio upon the head of\nthe Saracen, that the latter was driven right over the crupper of his\nhorse, and fell dead upon the bare earth, mangled and broken up as a\nfragile glass is broken when it is thrown against a wall. And Fortunio\nran his course just as victoriously in encountering every other champion\nwho ventured to oppose him in the lists. The damsel, when she saw how\nthe fortune of the day was going, was greatly rejoiced, and kept her\neyes steadily fixed on Fortunio in deepest admiration, and, thanking God\nin her heart for having thus graciously delivered her from the bondage\nof the Saracen, prayed to Him that this brave youth might be the final\nvictor.\n\nWhen the night had come they bade Doralice come to supper with the rest\nof the court; but to this bidding she made demur, and commanded them\nbring her certain rich viands and delicate wines to her chamber,\nfeigning that she had not yet any desire for food, but would eat,\nperchance, later on if any appetite should come upon her. Then, having\nlocked herself in her chamber and opened the window thereof, she watched\nwith ardent desire for the coming of her lover, and when he had gained\nadmittance to the chamber by the same means as he had used the previous\nday, they supped joyfully together. Then Fortunio demanded of her in\nwhat fashion she would that he should array himself for the morrow, and\nshe made answer that he must bear a badge of green satin all embroidered\nwith the finest thread of silver and gold, and that his horse should be\ncaparisoned in like manner. On the following morning Fortunio appeared,\nattired as Doralice had directed, and, having duly presented himself in\nthe piazza at the appointed time, he entered the lists and proved\nhimself again as valiant a champion as he had proved to be on the day\nbefore. So great was the admiration of the people of his prowess, that\nthe shout went up with one voice that he had worthily won the gracious\nprincess for his bride.\n\nOn the evening of that day the princess, full of merriment and happiness\nand joyous expectations, made the same pretext for absenting herself\nfrom supper as she had made the day before, and, having locked the door\nof her chamber, awaited there the coming of her lover, and supped\npleasantly with him. And when he asked her once more with what vestments\nhe should clothe himself on the following day, she answered that she\nwished him to wear a surcoat of crimson satin, all worked and\nembroidered with gold and pearls, and to see that the trappings of his\nhorse were made in the same fashion; adding that she herself would, on\nthe morrow, be clad in similar wise. \u2018Lady,\u2019 replied Fortunio, \u2018if by\nany chance I should tarry somewhat in making my entry into the lists, be\nnot astonished, for I shall not be late without good cause.\u2019\n\nWhen the morning of the third day had come, the spectators awaited the\nissue of the momentous strife with the most earnest expectation, but, on\naccount of the inexhaustible valour of the gallant unknown champion,\nthere was no opponent found who dared to enter the lists against him,\nand he himself for some hidden reason did not appear. After a time the\nspectators began to grow impatient at his non-appearance, and injurious\nwords were dropped. Even Doralice herself was assailed by suspicions as\nto his worth, although she had been warned by Fortunio himself that\nprobably his coming would be delayed; so, overcome by this hidden\ntrouble of hers\u2014concerning which no one else knew anything\u2014she wellnigh\nswooned with grief. At last, when it was told to her that the unknown\nknight was advancing into the piazza, her failing senses began to\nrevive. Fortunio was clad in a rich and sumptuous dress, and the\ntrappings of his horse were of the finest cloth of gold, all embroidered\nwith shining rubies and emeralds and sapphires and great pearls. When\nthe people saw these they affirmed that the price of them would be equal\nto a great kingdom, and when Fortunio came into the piazza, every one\ncried out in a loud voice: \u2018Long live the unknown knight!\u2019 and after\nthis they all applauded vigorously and clapped their hands. Then the\njousting began, and Fortunio once more carried himself so valiantly that\nhe bore to earth all those who dared to oppose him, and in the end was\nhailed as the victor in the tournament. And when he had dismounted from\nhis noble horse, the chief magnates and the wealthy citizens of the town\nbore him aloft on their shoulders, and to the sound of trumpets and all\nother kinds of musical instruments, and with loud shouts which went up\nto the heavens, they carried him into the presence of the king. When\nthey had taken off his helmet and his shining armour the king perceived\nwhat a seemly graceful youth he was, and, having called his daughter\ninto his presence, he betrothed them forthwith, and celebrated the\nnuptials with the greatest pomp, keeping open table at the court for the\nspace of a month.\n\nAfter Fortunio had lived for a certain space of time in loving dalliance\nwith his fair wife, he was seized one day with the thought that he was\nplaying the part of an unworthy sluggard in thus passing the days in\nindolence, merely counting the hours as they sped by, after the manner\nof foolish folk, and of those who consider not the duties of a man.\nWherefore he made up his mind to go afield into certain regions, where\nthere might be found due scope and recognition for his valour and\nenterprise; so, having got ready a galley and taken a large treasure\nwhich his father-in-law had given him, he embarked after taking leave of\nhis wife and of King Odescalco. He sailed away, wafted on by gentle and\nfavourable breezes, until he came into the Atlantic Ocean, but before he\nhad gone more than ten miles thereon, there arose from the waves the\nmost beautiful Siren that ever was seen, and singing softly, she began\nto swim towards the ship. Fortunio, who was reclining by the side of the\ngalley, bent his head low down over the water to listen to her song, and\nstraightway fell asleep, and, while he thus slept, the Siren drew him\ngently from where he lay, and, bearing him in her arms, sank with him\nheadlong into the depths of the sea. The mariners, after having vainly\nessayed to save him, broke out into loud lamentations over his sad fate,\nand, weeping and mourning, they decked the galley with black ensigns of\ngrief, and returned to the unfortunate Odescalco to tell him of the\nterrible mischance which had befallen them during their voyage. The king\nand Doralice, when the sad news was brought to them, were overwhelmed\nwith the deepest grief\u2014as indeed was everyone else in the city\u2014and all\nput on garments of mourning black.\n\nNow at the time of Fortunio\u2019s departure Doralice was with child, and\nwhen the season of her delivery had come she gave birth to a beautiful\nboy, who was delicately and carefully nurtured until he came to be two\nyears of age. At this time the sad and despairing Doralice, who had\nalways brooded over her unhappy fate in losing the company of her\nbeloved husband, began to abandon all hope of ever seeing him again; so\nshe, like a brave and great-souled woman, resolved to put her fortune to\nthe test and go to seek for him upon the deep, even though the king her\nfather should not consent to let her depart. So she caused to be set in\norder for her voyage an armed galley, well fitted for such a purpose,\nand she took with her three apples, each one a masterpiece of\nhandicraft, of which one was fashioned out of golden bronze, another of\nsilver, and the last of the finest gold. Then, having taken leave of her\nfather the king, she embarked with her child on board the galley, and\nsailed away before a prosperous wind into the open sea.\n\nAfter the sad and woe-stricken lady had sailed a certain time over the\ncalm sea, she bade the sailors steer the ship forthwith towards the spot\nwhere her husband had been carried off by the Siren, and this command\nthey immediately obeyed. And when the vessel had been brought to the\naforesaid spot, the child began to cry fretfully, and would in no wise\nbe pacified by his mother\u2019s endearments; so she gave him the apple which\nwas made of golden bronze to appease him. While the child was thus\nsporting with the apple, he was espied by the Siren, who, having come\nnear to the galley and lifted her head a little space out of the foaming\nwaves, thus spake to Doralice: \u2018Lady, give me that apple, for I desire\ngreatly to have it.\u2019 But the princess answered her that this thing could\nnot be done, inasmuch as the apple was her child\u2019s plaything. \u2018If you\nwill consent to give it to me,\u2019 the Siren went on, \u2018I will show you the\nhusband you have lost as far as his breast.\u2019 Doralice, when she heard\nthese words, at once took the apple from the child and handed it\ncourteously to the Siren, for she longed above all things else to get\nsight of her beloved husband. The Siren was faithful to her promise, and\nafter a little time brought Fortunio to the surface of the sea and\nshowed him as far as the breast to Doralice, as a reward for the gift of\nthe apple, and then plunged with him once more into the depths of the\nocean, and disappeared from sight.\n\nDoralice, who had naturally feasted her eyes upon the form of her\nhusband what time he was above the water, only felt the desire to see\nhim once more grow stronger after he was gone under again, and, not\nknowing what to do or to say, she sought comfort in the caresses of her\nchild, and when the little one began to cry once more, the mother gave\nto it the silver apple to soothe its fancy. Again the Siren was on the\nwatch and espied the silver apple in the child\u2019s hand, and having raised\nher head above the waves, begged Doralice to give her the apple, but the\nlatter, shrugging her shoulders, said that the apple served to divert\nthe child, and could not be spared. Whereupon the Siren said: \u2018If only\nyou will give me this apple, which is far more beautiful than the other,\nI promise I will show you your husband as far as his knees.\u2019 Poor\nDoralice, who was now consumed with desire to see her beloved husband\nagain, put aside the satisfaction of the child\u2019s fancy, and, having\ntaken away from him the silver apple, handed it eagerly to the Siren,\nwho, after she had once more brought Fortunio to the surface and\nexhibited him to Doralice as far as his knees (according to her\npromise), plunged again beneath the waves.\n\nFor a while the princess sat brooding in silent grief and suspense,\ntrying in vain to hit upon some plan by which she might rescue her\nhusband from his piteous fate, and at last she caught up her child in\nher arms and tried to comfort herself with him and to still his weeping.\nThe child, mindful of the fair apple he had been playing with, continued\nto cry; so the mother, to appease him, gave him at last the apple of\nfine gold. When the covetous Siren, who was still watching the galley,\nsaw this apple, and perceived that it was much fairer than either of the\nothers, she at once demanded it as a gift from Doralice, and she begged\nso long and persistently, and at last made a promise to the princess\nthat, in return for the gift of this apple, she would bring Fortunio\nonce more into the light, and show him from head to foot; so Doralice\ntook the apple from the boy, in spite of his chiding, and gave it to the\nSiren. Whereupon the latter, in order to carry out her promise, came\nquite close to the galley, bearing Fortunio upon her back, and having\nraised herself somewhat above the surface of the water, showed the\nperson of Fortunio from head to foot. Now, as soon as Fortunio felt that\nhe was quite clear of the water, and resting free upon the back of the\nSiren, he was filled with great joy in his heart, and, without\nhesitating for a moment, he cried out, \u2018Ah! would that I were an eagle,\u2019\nand scarcely had he ceased speaking when he was forthwith transformed\ninto an eagle, and, having poised himself for flight, he flew high above\nthe sail yards of the galley, from whence\u2014all the shipmen looking on the\nwhile in wonder\u2014he descended into the ship and returned to his proper\nshape, and kissed and embraced his wife and his child and all the\nsailors on the galley.\n\nThen, all of them rejoicing at the rescue of Fortunio, they sailed back\nto King Odescalco\u2019s kingdom, and as soon as they entered the port they\nbegan to play upon the trumpets and tabors and drums and all the other\nmusical instruments they had with them, so that the king, when he heard\nthe sound of these, was much astonished, and in the greatest suspense\nwaited to learn what might be the meaning thereof. And before very long\ntime had elapsed the herald came before him, and announced to the king\nhow his dear daughter, having rescued her husband from the Siren, had\ncome back. When they were disembarked from the galley, they all repaired\nto the royal palace, where their return was celebrated by sumptuous\nbanquets and rejoicings. But after some days had passed, Fortunio betook\nhimself for a while to his old home, and there, after having transformed\nhimself into a wolf, he devoured Alchia, his adoptive mother, and\nValentino her son, in revenge for the injuries they had worked him.\nThen, after he had returned to his rightful shape, he mounted his horse\nand rode back to his father-in-law\u2019s kingdom, where, with Doralice his\ndear wife, he lived in peace for many years to the great delight of both\nof them.\n\nAs soon as Alteria had brought to an end her long and interesting story\nthe Signora bade her at once to set forth her enigma, and she, smiling\npleasantly, obeyed the command.\n\n                  Far from this our land doth dwell\n                  One who by turns is fair or fell;\n                  Springing from a twofold root,\n                  One part woman, one part brute.\n                  Now like beauty\u2019s fairest jewel,\n                  Now a monster fierce and cruel.\n                  Sweetest song on vocal breath,\n                  To lead men down to shameful death.\n\nAlteria\u2019s most fitting and noteworthy enigma was answered in divers\nfashion by the listeners, some giving one interpretation of it and some\nanother, but not one of them came upon its exact meaning. Therefore,\nwhen the fair Alteria saw there was little chance of anyone finding the\ntrue answer, she said: \u201cLadies and gentlemen, the real subject of my\nenigma is the fascinating Siren who is fabled to dwell in the deep sea.\nShe is very fair to look upon, for her head and breast and body and arms\nare those of a beautiful damsel, but all the rest of her form is scaly\nlike a fish, and in her nature she is cunning and cruel. She sings so\nsweetly that the mariners, when they hear her song, are soothed to\nslumber, and while they sleep she drowns them in the sea.\u201d When the\nlisteners heard this clever and subtle solution given by Alteria, they\npraised it warmly with one accord, declaring the while that it was most\ningenious. And she, smiling with pleasure and gratitude, rose from her\nchair and thanked them for their kindness in thus lending their\nattention to her story. As soon as she had taken her seat, the Signora\nmade a sign to Eritrea to follow in the due order with her story, and\nshe, blushing like a morning rose, began it in these words.\n\n\n\n\n                            THE FIFTH FABLE.\n\n  Isotta, the wife of Lucaferro Albani of Bergamo, devises how she may\n      trick Travaglino the cowherd of her brother Emilliano and thereby\n      show him to be a liar, but she loses her husband\u2019s farm and\n      returns home worsted in her attempt, and bringing with her a\n      bull\u2019s head with gilded horns.\n\n\nSo great is the strength of truth, our infallible guide, that, according\nto the testimony of Holy Writ, it would be easier for heaven and earth\nto pass away than for truth to fail. And so far-reaching a charter has\ntruth, as is written by all the wise men of the world, that she is ever\nthe victor of time, and time never victor over her. Like as oil, if it\nbe poured in a vessel together with water, will always rise to the top,\nso will truth always assert herself over falsehood. Wherefore on this\naccount let no one be amazed over this prologue of mine, seeing that I\nhave set it down, moved thereto by the malignity of a wicked woman, who,\ndeeming that she might, by the means of her false allurements, lead on a\nyoung fellow to tell a lie, only induced him to speak the plain truth to\nher own confusion, the which, wicked woman as she was, she well merited.\nAll this I propose to set before you in this story of mine, which I\nhope, both as to time and place, will prove more profitable than hurtful\nto all of you.\n\nI will first tell my worthy hearers that in Bergamo, an ancient city of\nLombardy, there lived not a great time ago a man of wealth and standing\nwhose name was Pietromaria di Albani. To this man were born two sons, of\nwhom one was called Emilliano, and the other Lucaferro. He possessed\nalso two farms in a township not far removed, one of them known by the\nname of Ghorem, and the other by that of Pedrench. The two brothers,\nthat is to say, Emilliano and Lucaferro, divided the farms between them\nby lot after the death of Pietromaria their father, and Pedrench fell to\nthe share of Emilliano, and Ghorem to Lucaferro. Now Emilliano owned a\nvery fine flock of sheep, and a herd of lusty young bullocks, and\nlikewise a second herd of productive cows, and over the whole of these\ncattle one Travaglino had charge as herdsman, a man of the most approved\ntruth and loyalty, who, however dear he held his life, would not have\ntold a lie to save it, and who, moreover, as a herdsman had not his\nequal in all the world. With his herd of cows Travaglino kept several\nvery fine bulls, amongst which there was one especially beautiful in\nappearance, and so great a favourite was this bull with Emilliano that\nhe caused its horns to be gilded over with the finest gold. And as often\nas Travaglino might go to Bergamo after his affairs, Emilliano would\nnever fail to question him as to the welfare of his favourite bull with\nthe gilded horns.\n\nIt happened one day that while Emilliano was entertaining and holding\nconverse with his brother Lucaferro and with divers other of his\nfriends, Travaglino came anigh the company and made a sign to Emilliano\nhis master that he wanted to speak with him. Whereupon the latter\nforthwith withdrew from the presence of his brother and his friends,\nand, having gone apart with Travaglino, held him there some long time in\nconversation. And after this it would happen full often that Emilliano\nwould do the like, and leave his friends and family who might be about\nhim, and betake himself aside to confer with his herdsman; so that at\nlast Lucaferro, his brother, lost patience at such doings, and could\nendure them no longer. On one occasion, therefore, hot with wrath and\nindignation, he spake to Emilliano in these words: \u2018Emilliano, I am\nastonished beyond measure at your behaviour, that you make more account\nof this rascally cowherd of yours than you make of your own brother and\nof your many trusted friends; because, forsooth, not once, but a\nthousand times, if I may so express myself, you have gone away from us\nwhen we were together in the piazza, or over our games, as if we had\nbeen so many beasts only fit to be driven to the shambles, to go and\nforegather with this lubberly ruffian of a Travaglino, your hireling,\nand to have long converse with him, making believe that the affairs you\nhad to discuss with him were of the highest importance, while in fact\nnothing you talked about mattered a single straw.\u2019 To this Emilliano\nmade answer: \u2018Lucaferro, my good brother, there is surely no need for\nyou to fly into so hot a passion with me, while you heap all these\ninjurious words upon poor Travaglino, who, after all, is a very worthy\nyoung fellow, and one on whom I set great store, both on account of his\nefficiency in his calling and for his staunch loyalty towards myself;\nmoreover, he has yet another and special good quality, inasmuch as he\nwould not, to gain all the wealth there is in the world, speak a word\nwhich was not the truth. And furthermore he has many other excellent\ntraits on account of which I hold him in high esteem; therefore there is\nno reason why you should be astonished at my fondness for him, or that I\nshould treat him kindly.\u2019\n\nThis answer given by Emilliano only served to stir yet deeper his\nbrother\u2019s bile, and they straightway began to bandy angry words from one\nto the other, so that they narrowly escaped coming to blows. In the end\nLucaferro, on account of the high commendation pronounced by Emilliano\nover Travaglino\u2019s good qualities\u2014the which is written above\u2014thus spake:\n\u2018You speak loud enough to-day of the efficiency, and the good faith, and\nthe truthfulness of this cowherd of yours, but I tell you that he is the\nmost bungling, the most disloyal loon in the world, as well as the\nbiggest liar that nature ever made. And moreover I will pledge myself to\nbring all this to your notice, and to let you hear him tell a falsehood\nbefore your very face.\u2019 After they had spent much time in wrangling,\nthey ended by wagering their respective farms over the question,\nsettling the affair in this fashion, namely, that if Travaglino should\nbe proved to be a liar, the farm of Emilliano should pass to Lucaferro;\nbut if, on the other hand, he should be found truthful, Emilliano should\nbecome the owner of Lucaferro\u2019s. And over this matter, having called in\na notary, they caused to be drawn up a legal instrument ratified by all\nthe forms which are required in such cases.\n\nAfter the brothers had parted one from the other, and after their wrath\nand indignation had gone down somewhat, Lucaferro began to be sore\nrepentant of the wager he had made, and of the legal instrument he had\nrequested to be enacted under the seal of the notary. Wherefore he found\nhimself mightily troubled over the affair, and haunted by the fear lest\nat the end of it he might find himself deprived of his farm, out of\nwhich alone he had to find sustenance for himself and for his family.\nOne day, when he was in his house, his wife, whose name was Isotta,\nremarked that he was in a very melancholy mood, and, not knowing the\nreason thereof, she said to him: \u2018Heigho, my good husband! what can be\nthe matter with you that you are so dismal and woebegone?\u2019 And Lucaferro\nmade answer to her: \u2018Wife, hold your tongue, for goodness sake, and do\nnot heap any fresh trouble upon me in addition to what I am plagued with\nalready.\u2019 Whereupon Isotta began to be very curious to know what this\ntrouble might be, and she plied her husband so skilfully with questions\nthat in the end he told her everything. Then she said to him, with her\nface all radiant with joy and satisfaction: \u2018And is it really on account\nof this apprehension that you have got into such a taking of fear and\nagitation? Keep up a good heart, for you will see that I have wit enough\nin me to make this lout Travaglino tell to his master\u2019s face, not one\nlie, but a thousand.\u2019 And Lucaferro, when he heard these words, was much\ncomforted.\n\nIsotta, knowing perfectly well that the beautiful bull with the gilded\nhorns was an especial favourite of Emilliano, her brother-in-law,\ndetermined, first of all, to lay out her lures in that direction. So,\nhaving dressed herself after a fashion calculated to kindle a man\u2019s\ndesire, and daintily painted her face, she took her way by herself out\nof Bergamo and went to Pedrench, where was situated the farm of\nEmilliano, and, having gone into the farmhouse, she found therein\nTravaglino, who was busy making cheese and curds of butter-milk, and\ngreeted him, saying: \u2018Travaglino, my good fellow, you see I am come to\npay you a visit, to take a draught of milk and to eat some of your fine\ncurds.\u2019 \u2018Indeed, I am very glad to see you, my mistress,\u2019 Travaglino\nreplied, and, having made her sit down, he began to get ready the table,\nand to place thereon his cheese of ewe\u2019s milk and divers other good\ncheer, to do the lady honour. And after a while the youth, seeing her\nthere all alone and very fair to look upon, was somewhat taken aback,\nforasmuch as it was in no way her wont thus to visit him, and could\nhardly persuade himself that she could be in truth Isotta, the wife of\nhis master\u2019s brother. However, because he had often before seen her, he\ndid his best to please her and to pay her such honour as would have been\ndue to any lady, let her be whosoever she might.\n\nAfter the meal was despatched and the table cleared, Isotta, observing\nthat Travaglino was about to go to his cheese-making and to strain his\nwhey, said to him: \u2018Travaglino, my good fellow, I would fain lend you a\nhand in making your cheese.\u2019 And he answered her: \u2018Yes, if it would\nplease you, signora.\u2019 Then, without saying another word, she tucked up\nher sleeves as far as her elbows, thus laying bare her fair, wanton,\nwell-rounded arms, which shone out as white as snow, and set to work\nwith a will to help Travaglino to make his cheese, letting him now and\nagain get a peep at her swelling bosom, where he might also see her\nbreasts, which seemed as round and firm as two fair globes. And, besides\nthis, she artfully brought her own rosy cheek mighty close to\nTravaglino\u2019s face, so that occasionally one touched the other. Now\nTravaglino, notwithstanding that he was only a simple countryman and a\ncowherd, was by no means wanting in wit, and, although he understood\nwell enough from the looks and the demeanour of the lady that she was\nfired by lecherous passion, he did nothing more in the way of a return\nthan beguile her by ordinary speech and glances, making believe the\nwhile to wot nothing of making love. But Isotta, who began to persuade\nherself that the young man was all on fire with love for her, felt\nherself straightway so mightily inflamed with amorous desire towards him\nthat she could with difficulty hold herself within bounds. Although\nTravaglino perceived well enough what was the drift of the lady\u2019s\nlascivious wishes, he did not dare to say a word to her thereanent,\nfearing lest he might unduly trouble her and perhaps give offence.\nWherefore the lovesick dame, by way of making an end of Travaglino\u2019s\nbashful dallying, said to him: \u2018Travaglino, what is the reason that you\nstand there so mum and thoughtful, and do not venture to say a word to\nme? Peradventure there has come into your head the wish to ask some\nfavour of me. Take good care and do not keep your desire a secret,\nwhatever it may be, since by so doing you will work an injury to\nyourself, and not me, seeing that I am completely at your pleasure and\nwish.\u2019 Travaglino, when he heard these words, put on a more sprightly\nmanner and made a pretence of being greatly wishful to enjoy her. The\nbesotted dame, when she saw that the young man at last gave signs of\nbeing moved to amorous intent, determined that the time had come to set\nabout the business on which she was bent, so she spake to him thus:\n\u2018Travaglino, I am going to ask you to do me a great favour, and, if you\nshould be churlish enough to refuse to grant it, I tell you plainly that\nit will look as if you held very light the love I bear you; moreover,\nyour refusal will perchance be the cause of my ruin, or even of my\ndeath.\u2019\n\n[Illustration: Isotta and Travaglino]\n\nTo this speech Travaglino answered: \u2018Signora, for the love I have for\nyou I am ready to devote my life and all I possess in the world to your\nservice, and if it should chance that you demand of me to carry out some\nenterprise of great difficulty, nevertheless, on account of my own love\nand of the love which you have shown for me, I will easily accomplish\nit.\u2019 Then Isotta, taking courage from these words of Travaglino, said:\n\u2018If indeed you are my friend, as I well believe you to be, I shall know\nfull soon.\u2019 \u2018Lay what command on me you will, signora,\u2019 replied\nTravaglino, \u2018and you will see clearly enough whether I am your friend or\nnot.\u2019 \u2018All that I want of you,\u2019 said Isotta, \u2018is the head of that bull\nof yours which has his horns gilded. Give me this, and you may do with\nme what you please.\u2019 Travaglino, when he heard this request, was\nwellnigh overcome with amazement; but, inflamed by the pricks of fleshly\ndesire, and by the allurements of the lustful woman before him, he made\nanswer to her: \u2018Signora, can it be that this is all you want of me? You\nshall have, not only the head of the bull, but the body as well; nay, I\nwill hand over my own self into your keeping.\u2019 And after he had thus\nspoken, Travaglino plucked up heart and folded the lady in his arms, and\nthey together took part in the sweetest delights of love. When this was\ndone, Travaglino cut off the bull\u2019s head, and, having put it in a sack,\nhanded it over to Isotta, who, well satisfied that she had accomplished\nher purpose and got much pleasure and delight besides, made her way back\nto her house, bearing with her more horns than farms in her sack.\n\nNow Travaglino, as soon as the lady had taken her departure, began to\nfeel somewhat troubled in mind and to cast about for some excuse which\nhe might bring forward to his master when he should be called upon to\naccount for the death of the bull with the gilded horns, which was so\ngreatly beloved by Emilliano. While the wretched Travaglino was held by\nthese torments of his mind, knowing neither what to say or to do, it\ncame into his head at last to take a branch of one of the pruned trees\nwhich grew about, and to dress this up with some of his own poor\ngarments, and to make believe that it was Emilliano. Then, standing\nbefore this scarecrow, he proposed to make trial of what he should do\nand say when he should be brought face to face with his master.\nWherefore, after he had set up the tree branch thus bedizened in a\nchamber of the house with his own cap on its head and with certain of\nhis garments upon its back, Travaglino went out from the chamber for a\nshort space of time, and then came back and entered, saluting the branch\nas he went in, and saying, \u2018Good day, my master!\u2019 and then, making\nanswer out of his own mouth, he replied, \u2018I am glad to see you,\nTravaglino. How do you find yourself, and how are things going on at the\nfarm? It is a long time since I have seen anything of you.\u2019 \u2018I am very\nwell,\u2019 replied Travaglino, \u2018but I have been so busy of late that I have\nnot been able to find time to come and see you.\u2019 \u2018How did you leave the\nbull with the gilded horns?\u2019 asked Emilliano, and then Travaglino made\nas if he would answer: \u2018Master, I have to tell you that your favourite\nbull has been eaten of wolves while he was straying in the woods.\u2019 \u2018Then\nwhere are his skin and his gilded horns?\u2019 Emilliano inquired. And when\nhe had come to this point poor Travaglino could not hit upon any answer\nhe could possibly give; so, wellnigh overcome with grief, he left the\nchamber. After a little he came in again and recommenced his discourse\nby saying, \u2018God keep us all, good master!\u2019 \u2018And you also, Travaglino,\u2019\nsaid Emilliano, \u2018and how prosper things at the farm? how is the bull\nwith the gilded horns?\u2019 \u2018I am very well,\u2019 said Travaglino, \u2018but one day\nlately the bull broke out of the yard, and having fallen a-fighting with\nsome of the other bulls, was so heavily mauled by them that he died of\nhis injuries straightway.\u2019 \u2018Then where are his skin and his gilded\nhorns?\u2019 asked Emilliano. Whereupon Travaglino knew no better what answer\nhe should give to this question than before. Finally, having gone\nthrough the same discourse several times, he had to give up the matter\nin despair, through not being able to devise any reply which sounded at\nall reasonable.\n\nNow Isotta, as soon as she had returned to her house, said to her\nhusband: \u2018What will that poor lout Travaglino do when he shall set about\nexcusing himself to Emilliano with regard to the death of that bull with\nthe gilded horns which was such a pet with his master? How will he clear\nhimself of such a trouble as this without telling a lie or two? See,\nhere is the head of the bull, which I have brought back with me to use\nas a testimony against him when he shall begin with his false tales.\u2019\nBut the dame said not a word to her husband as to how she had made for\nhis own benefit two fine horns, bigger than those of a hart royal.\nLucaferro, when he saw the bull\u2019s head, was overjoyed and could hardly\ncontain himself for glee, making sure that he would now win his wager,\nbut the issue of the affair fell out in mighty different fashion, as you\nwill learn later on.\n\nTravaglino, after he had essayed divers bouts of questions and answers\nwith his scarecrow man, discoursing just as if he were in conversation\nwith the master himself, and finding in the end that they none of them\nwould serve the end he had in view, made up his mind without further ado\nto go and seek his master forthwith, no matter what might happen.\nWherefore, having set forth towards Bergamo, he presented himself before\nhis master, to whom he gave a hearty salute. Emilliano, after he had\ngreeted his herdsman in return, said to him, \u2018And what business has been\ntaking up all your time and thoughts of late, Travaglino, that you have\nlet so many days pass without coming here or without letting us have any\nnews of you?\u2019 Travaglino replied, \u2018Master, the many jobs I have had in\nhand have kept me fully occupied.\u2019 Then said Emilliano, \u2018And how goes on\nmy bull with the gilded horns?\u2019\n\nWhen he heard these words, poor Travaglino was overcome with the direst\nconfusion, and his face flushed with shame as red as a burning furnace,\nand he was fain to find some excuse for his fault and to hide the truth.\nBut in the end the fear of saying aught which might sully his honour\nstood him in good stead, and made him take heart of grace and tell his\nmaster the whole story from beginning to end: how Isotta had beguiled\nhim, and how his dealings with her had ensued in the death of the bull.\nEmilliano was amazed beyond measure as he listened to this story, which,\nhowever great his fault might have been, at least proved Travaglino to\nbe a truthful fellow and one of good character. So in the end Emilliano\nwon the wager with regard to the farm, and Lucaferro gained nothing but\na pair of horns for his own head, while his good-for-nothing wife\nIsotta, in trying to dupe another, was finely duped herself, and got\nnothing but shame for her trouble.\n\nWhen this instructive fable was finished, every one of the worthy\ncompany of listeners was loud in blame of the dissolute Isotta, and\nequally loud in commendation of Travaglino, holding up to ridicule the\nsilly loose-minded woman, who had in such vile manner given herself away\nto a herdsman, of which ill-doing the real cause was her innate and\npestilential avarice. And seeing that Eritrea had not as yet propounded\nher enigma, the Signora, glancing at her, made a sign that she must not\ninterrupt the procedure they had followed so far. Whereupon Eritrea,\nwithout any farther delay, gave her enigma:\n\n                I saw one day in fine spring weather,\n                A head and a breech full close together.\n                Another breech I likewise found\n                Squatting at ease upon the ground.\n                And one, as strong as any mule,\n                Stood quiet, subject to the rule\n                Of two, who in the head shone bright,\n                And looked with pleasure on the sight.\n                Meantime the head pressed closer still,\n                And ten there were who worked with will,\n                With dexterous grasp, now up, now down.\n                No prettier sight in all the town.\n\nThough the ladies made merry enough over the fable, they held the enigma\nto be no less of a jest. And, because there was not one of them who\nseemed likely to be able to solve it, Eritrea spake as follows: \u201cMy\nenigma, ladies and gentlemen, is intended to describe one who sits down\nunder a cow and sets to work to milk her. And for the same reason he who\nmilks the cow must keep his head close to the cow\u2019s breech, and the\nmilker, for his good convenience, sits with his breech on the ground.\nShe is very patient, and is kept in restraint by one, namely, he who\nmilks her, and is watched by two eyes, and is stroked by two hands and\nthe ten fingers, which draw from her the milk.\u201d This very clever enigma\npleased them all mightily, as well as the interpretation thereof; but,\nseeing that every star had now disappeared from the heaven, save only a\ncertain one which still shone in the whitening dawn, the Signora gave\norder that every one of the company should depart whithersoever he\nwould, and take rest until the coming evening, commanding at the same\ntime that each one should duly appear again at the appointed place under\npain of her displeasure.\n\n\n                      =The End of the Third Night=\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                          =Night the Fourth.=\n\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n   =The Fables and Enigmas of Messer Giovanni Francesco Straparola da\n                              Caravaggio.=\n\n\n\n\n                          =Night the Fourth.=\n\n\nAlready the golden-haired Apollo in his radiant chariot had sped away\nfrom this hemisphere of ours, and, having sunk beyond the distant line\nof sea, had betaken himself to the antipodes, and all those who had been\nlabouring in the fields, now weary with their hard toil, felt no desire\nfor aught save to repose quietly in their beds, when the worshipful and\nhighborn company assembled themselves joyfully once more in the\naccustomed spot. And after the ladies and gentlemen had spent a short\ntime in mirthful converse, the Signora Lucretia, when silence had been\nrestored, bade them bring forth the golden vase. Then, having written\nwith her own hand the names of five of the ladies and cast them into the\nvase, she called to the Signor Vangelista and directed him to draw out\nof the vase the names one by one, in order that they might clearly know\nto which of their companions the duty of story-telling on that same\nnight would be assigned. Then Signor Vangelista, rising from his seat\nand breaking off the pleasant discourse he was holding with Lodovica,\nwent obediently towards the Signora, and, having sunk down upon his\nknees reverently at her feet, he put his hand in the vase and drew out\nfirst the name of Fiordiana, then that of Vicenza, then that of\nLodovica, next that of Isabella, and last the name of Lionora. But\nbefore they made a beginning of their story-telling the Signora gave the\nword to Molino and to the Trevisan that they should take their lutes and\nsing a ballad. The two gentlemen did not wait for any further command,\nbut forthwith tuned their instruments and sang to a joyous strain the\nfollowing verse:\n\n                             SONG.\n             There is a face which is my sun of love,\n               In whose kind warmth I breathe and move,\n               Or faint beneath its scorching ray;\n             And when it shines amongst the fairest fair,\n               My lady reigns beyond compare,\n             And all around her bend beneath her sway.\n\n             Happy, thrice happy, is that favoured one,\n               Who sees no face but hers alone,\n               And passion\u2019s nectar eager sips,\n             Who listens to the music of her tongue,\n               More sweet than lay by seraphs sung,\n             In words that fall like jewels from her lips.\n\n             But happier still were I if she benign\n               Would place her lily hand in mine,\n             And mark me worthy such a prize to claim.\n               Dull clod of earth although I be,\n               Then should I full fruition see\n             Of every hope, and end of every aim.\n\nThe song was attentively listened to and warmly commended by every one\nof the company. And when the Signora saw that it had come to an end she\ndirected Fiordiana, to whom had been assigned the first turn of\nstory-telling on this the fourth night, that she should begin hers\nstraightway, and follow the order which had been observed since the\nbeginning of their entertainment; and the damsel, who was no less eager\nto speak than the rest of the company were to listen, thus began her\nfable.\n\n\n\n\n                            THE FIRST FABLE.\n\n  =Ricardo, King of Thebes, had four daughters, one of whom, having\n      become a wanderer and altered her name of Costanza to Costanzo,\n      arrived at the court of Cacco, King of Bettinia, who took her to\n      wife on account of the many worthy deeds wrought by her.=\n\n\nI must first tell you, fair and gracious ladies, that the fable which\nEritrea told to us on the evening last past has brought me into so\nbashful a mood that I feel but little in the humour to act the\nstory-teller to-night. Nevertheless, the sense of obedience I have for\nevery command of the Signora, and the respect I feel for the whole of\nthis honourable and gracious company, compels and encourages me to make\ntrial with a certain story which, though it assuredly will not be found\nas pleasing as the one recently related by Eritrea, I will give you for\nwhat it is worth. You shall hear how a certain damsel, endowed with a\nnoble soul and high courage, one who in the course of her noteworthy\nadventures was far better served by fortune than by reason, held it\npreferable to become a servant than to fall into a base manner of life;\nhow, after enduring servitude for some time, she became the wife of King\nCacco, and lived content with her reward. All this will be set forth to\nyou in the story I am about to tell you.\n\nIn Egypt is situated the great and splendid city of Thebes, a place\nrichly ornamented with noble buildings, public as well as private,\nsituated in a country rich in cornfields growing white for the sickle,\nand favoured with fresh water in abundance; abounding, moreover, in all\nthose things which go to make up a glorious city. In times long past\nthis city was under the rule of a king called by name Ricardo, a man\nprofoundly wise, of great knowledge, and of the highest valour. Now this\nmonarch, desiring greatly to have an heir to his kingdom, took to wife\nValeriana, the daughter of Marliano, King of Scotland, a lady who was,\nin truth, perfection itself, very fair to look upon, and exceedingly\ngracious. Of her he begot three daughters, who were gentle in their\nmanners, full of grace, and fair as rosebuds in the morning. Of these\none was called Valentia, another Dorothea, and the third Spinella. In\nthe course of time it became manifest to Ricardo that Valeriana his wife\nhad come to that season of life when women commonly cease from\nchild-bearing, and that his three daughters were all of them ripe for\nmarriage, wherefore he determined forthwith to dispose of the three\nprincesses in honourable wedlock, and at the same time to divide his\nkingdom into three parts, whereof he proposed to give one to each of his\ndaughters, only keeping for himself so much as he judged would suffice\nfor the entertainment of himself, and of his family, and of his court.\nAnd all these plans he carried out as he had deliberated with himself,\nso that the result of his project proved to be exactly what he had\nwished it to be.\n\nIn due time the three maidens were given in marriage to three powerful\nkings, one to the King of Scardona, another to the King of the Goths,\nand the third to the King of Scythia; and to each one of them was\nassigned, by way of dowry, a third part of their father\u2019s kingdom,\nRicardo himself keeping back only a very small portion thereof to serve\nto satisfy his vital needs. And thus the good king, with Valeriana, his\nwell-beloved wife, lived righteously in peace and comfort. But it\nhappened, after a few years had passed, that the queen, of whom the king\nexpected no further offspring, proved to be with child, and at the end\nof her time was brought to bed with a very beautiful little girl, whom\nthe king welcomed with affection and caresses as warm as he had given to\nthe other three children. But the queen was not so well pleased with\nthis last infant, not, however, on account of any dislike for the child\nherself, but because, seeing that the kingdom was now divided into three\nparts and given away, she feared that there would be no chance of\nfurnishing this daughter with a dowry sufficient to win her a marriage\nworthy of their state. She desired at the same time that the child\nshould receive the share due to a daughter of hers. But, having handed\nover the child to the care of a very competent nurse, she gave strict\ncommand to her to use the greatest care in her charge, to give the child\ngood instruction, and to train her in the gentle and praiseworthy\nmanners and carriage which become a fair and graceful maiden. The child,\nto whom the name of Costanza was given, grew day by day more lovely and\nher manners more engaging, nor could any subject from the most learned\nmasters be brought forward which she would not at once apprehend most\nreadily. By the time Costanza was twelve years of age she had already\nlearned to embroider, to sing, to dance, to play the lute, and to do\nevery one of those feats which are rightly held to mark a princess of\nrank. But, not content with these graces, she gave herself also to the\nstudy of polite letters, which proved to be to her so great a source of\npleasure and delight that she would spend over them not merely the day,\nbut the night as well, striving always to find out the exquisite\nbeauties of the books she studied. And over and above all these\nexcellencies she mastered completely the art of war in learning how to\ngentle horses, and to handle arms, and to run in the lists as if she had\nbeen a strong and well-trained man-at-arms and not a damsel. In\njousting, indeed, she was so skilled that she ofttimes came out of the\ncontest victorious, just as if she had been one of those valorous\nknights who are held worthy of the highest honour. Wherefore, on account\nof all these virtues, and on her own account as well, Costanza was\ngreatly loved by the king and the queen and by all those around them, so\nthat there seemed to be no limit to their affection.\n\nWhen Costanza had come to a marriageable age, the king her father,\nfinding that he had now neither the state nor the gold required to\nsecure for her a match with some potent sovereign equal to her merits,\nwas greatly troubled thereanent, and often took counsel with the queen\nconcerning the matter; but the prudent Valeriana, in whose sight the\ngood qualities of their child appeared to be so many and so great that\nno other lady in the land could in any way be put on a level with her,\nwas not disquieted at all, and consoled the king with gentle and loving\nwords, bidding him keep a light heart, and not to doubt at all but that\nin the end some powerful sovereign, fired with love by the many virtues\nof their daughter, would not disdain to take her to wife, even though\nthey might not be able to give her a dowry.\n\nBefore many months had passed the damsel was sought in marriage by\ndivers gallant gentlemen, amongst whom was Brunello, the son of the\nMarquis of Vivien, whereupon the king and the queen called their\ndaughter to them into their chamber, and when they were all seated, the\nking spake thus: \u2018Costanza, my well-beloved child, the time is now come\nwhen it is meet that you should be married, and we have found for you as\na husband a youth who ought to please your taste. He is no other than\nthe son of the Marquis of Vivien, our good friend and neighbour; his\nname is Brunello, and he is a graceful seemly youth, the report of his\nvalorous deeds having spread already throughout the world. And moreover\nhe asks of us nought besides our own goodwill and your fair sweet self,\nupon which I put a value exceeding that of all the pomp and treasure of\nthe world. You must know that, though you are the daughter of a king,\nyet I cannot, on account of my poverty, find for you a more exalted\nalliance. Wherefore you must be content with this establishment and\nconform to our wishes.\u2019 The damsel, who was very prudent and conscious\nthat she was sprung from high lineage, listened attentively to her\nfather\u2019s words, and, without wasting any time over the matter, answered\nhim as follows: \u2018Sacred majesty, there is no need that I should spend\nmany words in replying to your honourable proposal, but simply that I\nshould speak as the question between us demands. And first I desire to\ntestify to you my gratitude, the warmest I can express, for all the\naffection and benevolence you exhibit towards me in seeking to provide\nme with a husband without any request from me. Next\u2014speaking with all\nsubmission and reverence\u2014I do not purpose to let myself fall below the\nrace of my ancestors, who from all time have been famous and\nillustrious, nor do I wish to debase the crown you wear by taking for a\nhusband one who is our inferior. You, my beloved father, have begotten\nfour daughters, of whom you have married three in the most honourable\nfashion to three mighty kings, giving with them great store of gold and\nwide domains, but you wish to dispose of me, who have ever been obedient\nto you and observant of your precepts, in an ignoble alliance. Wherefore\nI tell you, to end my speech, that I will never take a husband unless I\ncan be mated, like my three sisters, to a king of a rank that is my\ndue.\u2019 Shortly after this, Costanza, shedding many tears the while, took\nleave of the king and queen, and, having mounted a gallant horse, set\nforth from Thebes alone, and determined to follow whatever road fortune\nmight lay open to her feet.\n\nWhile she was thus journeying at hazard she deemed it wise to change her\nname, so in lieu of Costanza she called herself Costanzo, and donned a\nman\u2019s attire. She passed over many mountain ranges, and lakes, and\nmarshes, and saw many lands, and heard the tongues and took heed of the\nways and manners of certain races who live their lives after the fashion\nof brutes rather than of men. At last, one day at the set of sun, she\narrived at a famed and celebrated city called Costanza, the capital of\nall the country round, and at that time under the rule of Cacco, King of\nBettinia. And, having entered therein, she forthwith began to admire the\nsuperb palaces, the straight roomy streets, the running water, the broad\nrivers, and the clear, soft, trickling fountains. Then, when she had\ncome near to the piazza, she saw the spacious and lofty palace of the\nking, adorned with columns of the finest marble and porphyry, and,\nhaving raised her eyes somewhat, she saw the king, who was standing upon\na gallery which commanded a view of the whole piazza, and taking off her\ncap from her head she made him a profound reverence. The king, when he\nperceived the fair and graceful youth down below, had him called and\nbrought into his presence, and as soon as Costanzo stood before him he\ndemanded from what country he had come, and by what name he was called.\nThe youth, with a smiling face, gave answer that he had journeyed from\nThebes, driven thence by envious and deceitful fortune, and that\nCostanzo was his name. He declared, moreover, that he desired greatly to\nattach himself to the service of some gentleman of worth, pledging\nhimself to serve any such lord with all the faith and affection that\ngood service merited. The king, who meantime was mightily pleased with\nthe appearance of the youth, said to him: \u2018Seeing that you bear the name\nof this my city, it is my pleasure that you tarry here in my court with\nno other duty laid upon you than to attend to my person.\u2019 The youth, who\ndesired no better office than this, first rendered to the king his\ngratitude, and then joyfully accepted service under him as lord,\noffering at the same time to hold himself ready to discharge any duty\nwhich might be assigned to him.\n\nSo Costanza, in the guise of a man, entered into the service of the\nking, and served him so well and gracefully that every one who came near\nhim was astonished beyond measure at his talents. And it chanced that\nthe queen, when she had well observed and considered the graceful\nbearing, the pleasant manners, and the discreet behaviour of Costanzo,\nbegan to cast her eyes more diligently upon him, until at last, so hotly\ndid she grow inflamed with love of him, neither by day nor by night did\nshe turn her thoughts upon any other. And so soft and so loving were the\nglances that she would continually dart towards him, that not only a\nyouth, but even the hardest rock, or the unyielding diamond even, might\nwell have been softened. Wherefore the queen, being thus consumed with\npassion for Costanzo, yearned for nothing else than that she might some\nday find occasion to foregather with him alone. And before long it came\nto pass that chance gave her the opportunity of conversing with him, so\nshe straightway inquired of him whether it would be agreeable to him to\nenter into her service, making it known to him likewise that by serving\nher he would gain, over and above the guerdon which she would give him,\nthe approbation or even the reverence and respect of all the court.\n\nCostanzo perceived clearly enough that these words which came out of the\nqueen\u2019s mouth sprang from no goodwill of hers for his advancement, but\nfrom amorous passion. Knowing moreover that, being a woman like herself,\nhe could in no way satisfy the hot unbridled lust which prompted them,\nwith unclouded face he humbly made answer to her in these words:\n\u2018Signora, so strong is the obligation of service which binds me to my\nlord your husband, that it seems to me I should be working him a base\ninjury were I to withdraw myself from my obedience to his will.\nTherefore I pray you to hold me excused, and to pardon me that I am not\nready and willing at once to take service with you, and to accept, as\nthe reason of this my refusal of your gracious offer, my resolve to\nserve my lord even unto death, provided that it pleases him to retain me\nas his man.\u2019 And, having taken leave of the queen, he withdrew from her\npresence. The queen, who was well aware that men do not fell to earth a\nhard oak-tree with a single stroke, many and many a time after this made\ntrial, with the deepest cunning and art, to entice the youth to take\nservice under her, but he, as constant and as strong as a lofty tower\nbeaten by the winds, was not to be moved. As soon as the queen became\nconscious of this, the ardent burning love in her was turned to mortal\nbitter hatred, so that she could no longer bear the sight of him. And,\nhaving now grown anxious to work his destruction, she pondered day and\nnight how she might best set to work to clear him out of her path, but\nshe was in great dread of the king, for that he continued to hold the\nyouth in high favour.\n\nIn a certain district of the province of Bettinia there was to be found\na strange race of beings, in whom one half of the body, that is to say,\nthe upper part, was made after the fashion of a man, though they had\nears like those of animals, and horns as well. But in their lower parts\nthey had members resembling those of a rough shaggy goat, with a little\ntail, twisted and curling, of the sort one sees upon a pig. These\ncreatures were called satyrs, and by their depredations they caused\ngreat loss and damage to the villages and the farms and the people\nliving in the country thereabout. Wherefore the king desired greatly to\nhave one of these satyrs taken alive and delivered over into his\nkeeping, but there was found no one about the court with heart stout\nenough to undertake this adventure and capture a satyr for the king. By\nsending him on an errand of this sort the queen hoped to work Costanzo\u2019s\ndestruction, but the issue of the matter was not at all what she\ndesired, for in this case, as in many others, the would-be deceiver, by\nthe workings of divine providence and supreme justice, was cast under\nthe feet of the one she purposed to beguile.\n\nThe treacherous queen, being well aware of the king\u2019s longing, happened\nto be one day in converse with him concerning divers matters, and, while\nthey were thus debating, she said to him: \u2018My lord, have you never\nconsidered that Costanzo, your faithful and devoted servant, is strong\nand vigorous enough in body, and daring and courageous enough in soul,\nto go and capture for you one of these satyrs, and to bring him back to\nyou alive, without calling on anyone else to aid him. If the matter\nshould fall out in this wise, as I believe it would, you might easily\nmake trial of it, and in the course of an hour attain the wish of your\nheart, and Costanzo, as a brave and valiant knight, would enjoy the\nhonour of the deed, which would be accounted to him for glory for ever.\u2019\nThis speech of the cunning queen pleased the king greatly, and he\nstraightway bade them summon Costanzo into his presence. When the youth\nappeared the king thus addressed him: \u2018Costanzo, if indeed you love me,\nas you make show of doing, and as all people believe, you will now carry\nout fully the wish I have in my heart, and you yourself shall possess\nthe glory of the fulfilling thereof. You are surely aware that what I\ndesire more than aught else in the world is to have a satyr alive in my\nown keeping. Wherefore, seeing how strong and active you are, I reckon\nthere is no other man in all my kingdom so well fitted to work my will\nin this affair as you; so, loving me as you do, you will not refuse to\ncarry out my will.\u2019 The youth, who suspected not that this demand sprang\nfrom aught else than the king\u2019s desire, was anxious to give no cause of\nvexation to the king, and with a cheerful and amiable face thus made\nanswer: \u2018My lord, in this and in everything else you may command me.\nHowever weak and imperfect my faculties may be, I will on no account\ndraw back from striving to fulfil your wishes, even though in the task I\nshould meet with my death. But, before I commit myself to this perilous\nadventure, I beg you, my lord, that you will cause to be taken into the\nwood where the satyrs abide a large vessel with a wide mouth of the same\nsize as those which the servants use in dressing smooth the shifts and\nother kinds of body linen. And besides this I would have taken thither a\nlarge cask of good white wine, the best that can be had and the\nstrongest, together with two bags full of the finest white bread.\u2019 The\nking forthwith bade them get in readiness everything which Costanzo had\ndescribed, and Costanzo then journeyed towards the wood in question.\nHaving arrived there he took a copper bucket and began to fill it with\nwhite wine drawn from the cask, and this he poured into the other vessel\nwhich stood near by. Next he took some of the bread, and, having broken\nit in pieces, he put these into the vessel full of wine. This being done\nhe climbed up into a thick-leaved tree which stood hard by, and waited\nto see what might happen next.\n\nCostanzo had not been long up in the tree before the satyrs, who had\nsmelt the odour of the fragrant wine, began to draw near to the vessel,\nand having come close to it, each one swilled therefrom a good bellyful\nof wine, greedy as the hungry wolves when they fall upon a fold of young\nlambs. And after they had filled their stomachs and had taken enough,\nthey lay down to sleep, and so sound and deep was their slumber that all\nthe noise in the world would not have roused them. Then Costanzo, seeing\nthat the time for action had come, descended from the tree and went\nsoftly up to one of the satyrs, whose hands and feet he bound fast with\na cord he had brought with him. Next, without making any noise, he laid\nhim upon his horse and carried him off. And while Costanzo was on his\nway back, with the satyr tightly bound behind him, they came at the\nvesper hour to a village not far from the city, and the creature, who by\nthis time had recovered from the effects of the wine, woke up and began\nto yawn as if he were rising from his bed. Looking around him he\nperceived the father of a family, who with a crowd around him was going\nto bury a dead child, weeping bitterly the while, and the priest, who\nconduced the service, was singing. When he looked upon this spectacle\nthe satyr began to laugh mightily. Afterwards, when they had entered the\ncity and were come to the piazza, the satyr beheld a great crowd of\npeople who were staring open-mouthed at a poor lad who had just mounted\nthe gallows to be hanged by the executioner, and the satyr laughed\nthereat even louder than he had laughed before. And afterwards, when\nthey were come to the palace, a great joy seized upon the people\nstanding by, and they all cried out \u2018Costanzo! Costanzo!\u2019 And the satyr,\nwhen he heard this shouting, laughed louder than ever.\n\nWhen Costanzo was conduced into the presence of the king and of the\nqueen and her ladies, he presented to the king the satyr, who thereupon\nlaughed again, and so loud and long was his laughter that all those that\nwere there present were not a little astonished. After this the king,\nseeing with what diligence Costanzo had fulfilled his dearest wish, held\nhim in as high affection and esteem as ever lord extended to servant,\nbut this humour of his only added fresh griefs to the load which already\nlay upon the queen\u2019s heart; for that, having schemed to ruin Costanzo,\nshe had done nothing but exalt him to yet greater honour. Wherefore the\nwicked queen, not being able to endure the sight of such great\nprosperity as had come to Costanzo, devised yet another snare for him,\nwhich was this. She knew that the king was wont to go every morning to\nthe cell where the satyr was kept in hold, and for his diversion would\nessay to make the creature talk, but as yet he had in no wise succeeded\nin his efforts. Wherefore, having sought out the king, she said to him:\n\u2018Sire, you have betaken yourself over and over again to the satyr\u2019s\ncell, and you have wearied yourself in your endeavours to induce him to\ntalk with you in order that you might take diversion therefrom, but the\ncreature still shows no sign of speaking a word. Why, therefore, should\nyou further worry your brains over this affair, for you may take it for\ncertain that, if Costanzo were only willing, he could easily make the\nsatyr converse and answer questions.\u2019\n\nThe king, when he listened to these words, straightway bade them summon\nCostanzo into his presence, and when he came the king thus addressed\nhim: \u2018Costanzo, I am well assured that you know how great is the\npleasure I get from the satyr you captured for me; nevertheless it irks\nme greatly to find that he is dumb, and will never make any answer to\nthe words I say to him and the questions I put. If you would only do all\nthat you might, I am sure that you would be able to make him speak.\u2019\n\u2018Sire,\u2019 Costanzo replied, \u2018that the satyr is dumb is no fault of mine;\nit is not the office of a mortal, like me, to make him speak, but of a\ngod. But if the reason of his muteness comes not from any natural or\naccidental defect, but from stubborn resolve to keep silence, I will do\nall that lies in my power to make him open his mouth in speech.\u2019 Then,\nhaving gone together to the satyr\u2019s prison, they gave him some dainty\nfood, and some wine still better, and called out to him, \u2018Eat,\nChiappino\u2019 (for this was the name they had given to the satyr). But the\ncreature only stared at them without uttering a word. Then they went on:\n\u2018Come, Chiappino, tell us whether that capon and that wine are to your\ntaste;\u2019 but still he was silent. Costanzo, perceiving how obstinate the\nhumour of the creature was, said, \u2018So you will not answer me, Chiappino.\nLet me tell you you are doing a very foolish thing, seeing that I can if\nI will let you die of hunger here in prison.\u2019 And at these words the\nsatyr shot a side-glance at Costanzo. After a little Costanzo went on:\n\u2018Answer me, Chiappino; for if you speak to me (as I hope you will) I\nwill liberate you from this place.\u2019 Then Chiappino, who had listened\nwith eagerness to all that had been said, answered, as soon as he heard\nspeak of liberation, \u2018What will you of me?\u2019 Costanzo then said, \u2018Tell\nme, have you eaten and drunk well?\u2019 \u2018Yes,\u2019 said Chiappino. \u2018Now I want\nyou, of your courtesy, to tell me,\u2019 said Costanzo, \u2018what thing it was\nthat moved you to laughter in the village street when we met with the\nbody of the child on its way to be buried?\u2019 To this Chiappino answered,\n\u2018I laughed, indeed, not at the dead child, but at the so-called father,\nto whom the child in the coffin was in fact no kin at all, and I laughed\nat the priest singing the office, who was the real father,\u2019 by which\nspeech the satyr would have them understand that the mother of the child\nhad carried on an intrigue with the priest. Then said Costanzo, \u2018And now\nI want to know, my Chiappino, what it was that made you laugh yet louder\nwhen we were come into the piazza?\u2019 \u2018I laughed then,\u2019 replied Chiappino,\n\u2018to see a thousand or more thieves, who had robbed the public purse of\ncrowns by the million, who deserved a thousand gibbets, standing in the\npiazza to feast their eyes on the sight of a poor wretch led to the\ngallows, who, perchance, had merely pilfered ten florins wherewith to\nbuy bread for himself and his poor children. That was why I laughed.\u2019\nThen said Costanzo, \u2018And besides this, I beg you to tell me how it was\nthat, when we were come into the palace, you laughed longer and louder\nthan ever?\u2019 \u2018Ah, I beg you will not trouble me more at present,\u2019 said\nChiappino, \u2018but go your way and come back to-morrow, and then I will\nanswer you and tell you certain things of which perchance you have no\ninkling.\u2019 When Costanzo heard this, he said to the king, \u2018Let us depart\nand come back to-morrow, and hear what this thing may be.\u2019 Whereupon the\nking and Costanzo took their leave, and gave orders that Chiappino\nshould be given to eat and drink of the best, and that he should be\nallowed to chatter as he would.\n\nWhen the next day had come they both went to see Chiappino, and they\nfound him puffing and blowing like a great pig, and, having gone close\nto him, cried out to him several times in a loud voice. But Chiappino,\nwho had well filled his belly, answered nought. Then Costanzo gave him a\nsharp prick with a dart which he had with him, whereupon the satyr awoke\nand stood up and demanded who was there. \u2018Now get up, Chiappino,\u2019 said\nCostanzo, \u2018and tell us that thing which yesterday you promised we should\nhear, and say why you laughed so loud when we came to the palace?\u2019 To\nwhich question Chiappino made this reply: \u2018For a reason which you ought\nto understand better than I. It was, forsooth, at hearing them all\nshouting \u201cCostanzo! Costanzo!\u201d while all the time you are Costanza.\u2019 The\nking when he heard this could in no wise comprehend what this saying of\nChiappino\u2019s might mean; but Costanzo, who immediately recognized its\nimport, in order to keep him from speaking more, at once stopped the way\nfor him[25] by saying: \u2018And when you had been brought into the very\npresence of the king and queen, what made you laugh then as if nothing\ncould stop you?\u2019 To this Chiappino made answer: \u2018I laughed then so\noutrageously because the king, and you as well, believed that the\nmaidens who were in service on the queen were really maidens, whereas\nthe greater part of them were young men.\u2019 And then he was silent.\n\nWhen the king heard these words he knew not what to think, but he said\nnothing; and, having left the wild satyr, he went out with Costanzo,\nwishing to learn clearly what might be the meaning of what he had heard.\nAnd after he had made due inquiry he found that Costanzo was in truth a\nwoman, and not a youth, and that the supposed damsels about the queen\nwere sprightly young men, as Chiappino had said. And straightway the\nking bade them light a great fire in the middle of the piazza, and into\nit, in the presence of all the people, he caused to be cast the queen\nand all her paramours. And, bearing in mind the praiseworthy loyalty and\nthe open faithfulness of Costanza, and marking moreover her exceeding\nbeauty, the king made her his wife in the presence of all his barons and\nknights. When he knew who her parents were, he greatly rejoiced, and\nforthwith despatched ambassadors to King Ricardo and to Valeriana his\nwife, and to the three sisters of Costanza, to tell them how she was now\nthe wife of a king; whereupon they all felt the joy due to such good\nnews. Thus the noble Costanza, in recompense for the faithful service\nshe rendered, became a queen and lived long with Cacco her husband.\n\nWhen Fiordiana had brought her fable to an end, the Signora made a sign\nto her to give her enigma. The damsel, who was somewhat haughty, rather\nby chance than by nature, set it forth in the following words:\n\n                  Over savage lions twain\n                  A spirit soft and mild doth reign.\n                  By her side four damsels move,\n                  Prudence, Valour, Faith, and Love.\n                  She bears a sword in her right hand;\n                  Before it calm the righteous stand,\n                  But wicked men and souls unjust\n                  It smites and lays them in the dust.\n                  Discord nor wrong with her may rest,\n                  And he who loves her wins the best.\n\nThis clever enigma set forth by Fiordiana, who indeed was a damsel of\nsubtle mind, won the praise of all, and some found its meaning to be one\nthing, and some another. But there was no one of all the company who\nrightly divined it, seeing that all their solutions were far wide of the\ntrue one. When Fiordiana saw this she said in a lively tone, \u201cLadies and\ngentlemen, I see you are troubling yourselves in vain, seeing that my\nenigma means nothing else than that infinite and equal justice which\nlike a gentle spirit rules and restrains both the hungry, savage lions,\nand likewise the proud, unconquerable spirit of man. More than that,\njustice makes steadfast her faith, holding in her right hand a sharp\nsword, and accompanied always by four virgins, Prudence, Charity,\nFortitude, and Faith. She is gentle and kind to the good, and severe and\nbitter to the perverse and bad.\u201d When Fiordiana ceased speaking, the\nlisteners were greatly pleased with the interpretation of her enigma.\nThen the Signora bade the gracious Vicenza to follow in her turn with a\nfable, and she, eager to obey this command, spake as follows.\n\n\n\n\n                           THE SECOND FABLE.\n\n  =Erminione Glaucio, an Athenian, takes to wife Filenia Centurione,\n      and, having become jealous of her, accuses her before the\n      tribunal, but by the help of Hippolito, her lover, she is\n      acquitted and Erminione punished.=\n\n\nOf a truth, gracious ladies, there would be in all the world no\ncondition more sweet, more delightful, or more happy than the service of\nlove, were it not for that bitter fruit which springs from sudden\njealousy, the foe which drives away gentle Cupid, the betrayer of kindly\nladies, the foe who day and night tries to compass their death.\nWherefore there comes into my recollection a fable which ought to be\nreceived by you with some satisfaction, seeing that from it you will be\nable readily to understand the hard and piteous fate which befell a\ngentleman of Athens, who, because of his impotent jealousy, sought the\ntaking off of his wife by the sword of justice, but was instead\ncondemned himself, and met his death thereby. Which judgment ought to\nplease you, because, if I am not greatly in error, you are yourselves\nall of you more or less in love.\n\nIn Athens, the most ancient city of Greece, and one which was in times\npast the veritable home and resort of all learning, though now, through\nher flighty vanity, entirely ruined and overthrown, there resided once\nupon a time a gentleman named Messer Erminione Glaucio, a man of much\nconsideration and repute in the city, rich in purse, but at the same\ntime of mean intelligence. Now it chanced that when he was an old man,\nfinding himself without progeny, he made up his mind to marry, and took\nto wife a damsel named Filenia, daughter of Messer Cesarino Centurione,\nof noble descent and gifted with marvellous beauty and with good\nqualities out of number. In short, there was in all the city no other\nmaiden who was her equal. And, forasmuch as he was greatly in fear lest\nhis wife, on account of her marvellous beauty, should be courted by\ndivers of the gallants of the city, and perhaps give occasion for some\ndisgraceful scandal, through which the finger of scorn might be pointed\nat him, he resolved to restrain her in a certain lofty tower of his\npalace, out of sight of all passers-by. And before long it happened that\nthe wretched old dotard, without knowing why, let his jealousy rise to\nsuch a pitch that he mistrusted even himself.\n\nThere was residing in the city at this time a certain scholar of Crete,\nyoung in years, but very discreet, and greatly loved and esteemed by all\nwho knew him on account of his amiability and grace. The name of this\nyouth was Hippolito, and before Filenia was married he had paid suit to\nher, and, besides this, he was on intimate terms with Messer Erminione,\nwho held him as dear as if he had been his own son. At a certain time\nduring his scholar\u2019s course he found himself somewhat disinclined for\nstudy; so, desiring to recruit his spirits, he took his departure from\nAthens, and having gone into Crete, he sojourned there for a time, to\ndiscover on his return that Filenia was married. On this account he fell\ninto an access of melancholy, and he grieved the more because he was now\ndeprived of all hope of seeing her at his pleasure, nor could he endure\nto remember that a maiden so lovely and graceful should be bound in\nmarriage to a toothless, slobbering old man.\n\nWherefore the love-stricken Hippolito, finding himself no longer able to\nendure the burning pricks and the sharp arrows of love, set himself to\nfind out some method, some hidden way by which he might enjoy the\nfulfilment of his desires. And after he had well considered the many\nschemes which presented themselves to him, he fixed at last upon a\ncertain one which appeared to him the most fitting. To put this in\nexecution he first betook himself to the shop of a carpenter, his\nneighbour, where he ordered to be made two chests of the same length and\nbreadth and width, and of the same measure and quality, so that no one\nwould be able to distinguish the one from the other. This done, he\nrepaired to Messer Erminione\u2019s house, and, making pretence of wanting\nsomething of him, spake in cunning wise the following words: \u2018Messer\nErminione, you know well enough that I love and reverence you as if you\nwere my own father, and for my part if I were not well convinced of your\naffection for myself, I would never dare, with such assurance as I now\nuse, to beg any favour of you; but, seeing that I have ever found you\nwell disposed to me, I am wellnigh certain that I shall now get from you\nthat service which my heart so greatly desires. It happens that I am\nconstrained to leave Athens and to go to the city of Frenna to expedite\nsome very important matters of business, and I must remain there until\nsuch time as these shall be completed. And because I have no one about\nme whom I can fully trust, seeing that I am served only by menials and\nhirelings, of whom I am in no way well assured, I would fain that you\nhold in charge for me\u2014provided that it be your pleasure so to do\u2014a\ncertain chest of mine full of articles of value which I happen to\npossess.\u2019 Messer Erminione, suspecting nought of the craft of the young\nscholar, made answer to him that he was well content to grant this\nfavour, and that for greater security the chest should be deposited and\nkept in the same chamber in which he slept. On hearing this reply the\nscholar returned to Messer Erminione his thanks, the warmest he knew how\nto render, promising the while to keep in mind the memory of this great\nfavour done to him as long as he should live. Then he begged the old man\nto do him the honour to go with him as far as his own dwelling, in order\nthat he might exhibit to him the various articles which he had stored in\nthe chest. Wherefore the two, having gone together to the house of\nHippolito, the latter pointed out a chest filled with rich garments and\njewels and necklaces of no small value, and then, having summoned a\ncertain one of his servants and presented him to Messer Erminione, he\nsaid: \u2018If at any time, Messer Erminione, this my servant should be\nseeing after the removal of my chest, you can trust him to the full as\nif he were my own self.\u2019 And when Messer Erminione had taken his\ndeparture Hippolito hid himself in the other chest, which was exactly\nlike the one filled with garments and jewels, and having fastened it\nfrom the inside, he bade his servant carry it to a certain place he knew\nof. The servant, who was privy to the affair, obedient to his master\u2019s\norder called a porter, and having lifted the burden on the man\u2019s back,\nordered him to bear it to the tower in which was situated the chamber\nwhere Messer Erminione slept every night with his young wife.\n\nMesser Erminione, being one of the chiefs of the city and a man of\nwealth and influence, it fell to his lot, on account of the worshipful\nstate he filled, to go for a certain space of time to a place called\nPorto Pireo, distant about twenty stadi from the city of Athens, and\nthere to compose certain suits and strifes which had arisen between the\ntownsmen and the peasants round about\u2014albeit he found this errand but\nlittle to his taste. Wherefore, when Messer Erminione had gone his way,\ntormented as ever by the jealousy which day and night weighed upon him,\nthe youth, shut up in the chest which now stood in Madonna Filenia\u2019s\nbedroom, was waiting for the favourable moment. More than once had he\nheard the fair dame weeping and sighing as she bemoaned her hard lot,\nand the place and the hour which had seen her given in marriage to a\nmiserable old man who had proved to be the ruin of her life. And when it\nseemed to him that she was in her first sleep, he got out of the chest,\nand, having gone to the bedside, said in a soft voice: \u2018Awake, my soul!\nfor I, your Hippolito, am here.\u2019 And when she was fully aroused, and saw\nhim and knew who he was (for there was a candle burning in the chamber),\nshe was inclined to cry out; but the young man, putting his hand upon\nher lips, would not allow this, and thus addressed her in a voice full\nof agitation: \u2018Be silent, heart of mine! do you not see that I am\nHippolito, your faithful lover? Of a truth I cannot live apart from\nyou.\u2019 The fair young woman was somewhat comforted by these words, and by\nthe time she had found the opportunity for comparing the worth of her\nold husband with the youthful Hippolito, she was by no means\nill-satisfied with the turn things had taken, and lay all night with her\nlover, spending the time in loving conversation and railing at the\nimpotent ways of her doltish husband. Before they parted they agreed\ntogether to meet again in like manner, and when the morning began to\ndawn the youth got back into his chest, and every evening would issue\ntherefrom and spend the night with the lady.\n\nNow, after a good many days had elapsed, Messer Erminione, giving the\nbusiness good speed both on account of the discomfort he himself\nsuffered and of the rabid jealousy which never ceased to torment him,\nput an end to all the disputes he had been called upon to settle, and\nwent back to his home. The servant of Hippolito, as soon as he heard the\nnews of Messer Erminione\u2019s return, went without losing time to his\nhouse, and, according to the agreement which had been settled, demanded\nof him in the name of his master Hippolito the return of the chest, and\nthis Messer Erminione gave up to him without a word of demur. Wherefore,\nhaving summoned a porter, the servant caused the chest to be conveyed\nhome. Then Hippolito, having come out of his hiding-place, went\nforthwith to the piazza, where he met with Messer Erminione, and after\nhe had embraced him, he thanked him most courteously in the warmest\nterms he could find for the great kindness he had received, and at the\nsame time declared that he himself and all that he possessed should ever\nbe ready at Messer Erminione\u2019s service.\n\nIt chanced that on a certain morning Messer Erminione remained in bed\nwith his wife somewhat later than was his wont, and, lifting up his\neyes, he remarked upon the wall and high above his head certain stains\nwhich looked as if they had been caused by someone spitting thereon.\nWherefore his inveterate jealousy began once more to trouble him, and he\nwas mightily amazed at what he saw, and began to turn it over in his\nmind in such wise that, after he had well considered the matter, he\ncould not bring himself to believe that the marks on the wall in\nquestion were any work of his. Then, with strong apprehension as to\ntheir meaning, he turned to his wife and with an angry troubled face\ndemanded of her: \u2018What have you to say about those spit marks high up on\nthe wall there? I am well assured they were never made by me, for I\nnever spat up there in my life. I strongly suspect that you have\nbetrayed my honour.\u2019 Filenia, laughing the while at this speech, thus\nanswered him: \u2018Is there no other charge you would like to bring against\nme?\u2019 Messer Erminione, when he saw her begin to laugh, grew more\ninfuriated than ever, and said: \u2018Ah, you laugh, do you, wicked woman\nthat you are? Now, tell me quickly what it is that makes you laugh.\u2019 \u2018I\nam laughing,\u2019 answered Filenia, \u2018at your own foolishness.\u2019 At these\nwords Messer Erminione began to chafe with rage,[26] and, being anxious\nto make trial of his own powers and to see whether he could spit so\nhigh, with much coughing and gasping he strained with all his might to\nreach the mark on the wall by his spitting, but he wearied himself in\nvain, for the spittle always fell down again and lighted upon his\nvisage, plastering him thickly with filth. And after the wretched old\nman had made this trial many times, he found that he only got in worse\ncase every turn. So, by the light of this experience, he persuaded\nhimself that his wife had assuredly played him false, and, turning to\nher, he began to assail her with the most rascally words that could be\napplied to a guilty woman, and, if he had not been in fear of the law\nand of his own neck, he would surely have slain her then and there with\nhis own hands, but he managed to restrain himself, deeming it better to\ndeal with her by legal process than to stain his hands in her blood. Not\nsatisfied with the rating he had already given her, he betook himself,\nfull of wrath and anger, to the tribunal, where he preferred before the\njudge a charge of adultery against his wife. But, seeing that it lay not\nwithin the power of the judge to pronounce condemnation upon her unless\nthe legal statutes should have been duly observed, he ordered Filenia to\nbe brought before him in order that he might narrowly examine her.\n\nNow, there was in Athens a law, which was held in the highest reverence,\nproviding that any woman who might be charged by her husband with\nadultery should be placed at the foot of a certain red column, round\nwhich was entwined a serpent, and there make oath whether or not the\naccusation of adultery brought against her were true. And after she had\ntaken the oath she was required forthwith to put her hand in the\nserpent\u2019s mouth, and then, if she should have sworn falsely, the serpent\nwould at once bite off her hand; otherwise, she received no injury.\nHippolito, who had already heard rumours of this charge before the\ntribunal, and that the judge had sent to fetch Filenia to put her on her\ndefence, being a youth of resource at once took action to see that she\nshould not run into the snares of ignominious death. By way of rescuing\nher from condemnation he first of all stripped off all his clothes and\ndonned in their stead some rags befitting a madman, and then, without\nbeing seen by anyone, he left his own lodging and ran straight to the\ntribunal as if he had been someone out of his mind, acting well the part\nof a crazy man as he went along the streets.\n\nNow it chanced that while the officers of the court were haling along\nthe poor lady towards the tribunal, all the people of the city gathered\nthemselves together to take note as to how the cause would end, and in\nthe midst of the crowd the pretended madman, forcing his way now here,\nnow there, worked himself so well to the front that he found opportunity\nto cast his arms round the neck of the woeful lady, and to press a kiss\nupon her lips, which caress she, seeing that her arms were bound behind\nher back, could in no wise escape. When the young woman had been brought\ninto the presence of the tribunal the judge addressed her in these\nwords: \u2018As you may see, Filenia, your husband Messer Erminione is here\nto lay complaint against you that you have committed adultery, and\nfurthermore prays that I should deal out to you the due penalty\naccording to the statute; wherefore you must now make oath and say\nwhether or not the charge which your husband brings against you is\ntrue.\u2019 Then the young woman, who was very wary and keen of intellect,\nswore with confidence that no man had ever touched her save her husband\nand the madman who was now present before them all. Then, after she had\nsworn, the underlings of the court led her to the place where was the\nserpent, which, after Filenia\u2019s hand had been placed in its mouth, did\nher no harm whatever, inasmuch as what she had sworn was really the\ntruth, namely, that no man had ever given her caress of any sort except\nher husband and the so-called madman.\n\n[Illustration: The Trial of the Serpent]\n\nWhen they perceived this, the crowd, and all her kinsfolk, who had come\nthither to see the solemn and terrible sight, at once set her down as\ninnocent and wrongfully accused, and cried out that Messer Erminione\ndeserved the same death which was the penalty of the crime imputed to\nhis wife. But, for the reason that he was a noble, a man of high\nlineage, and one of the chiefs of the city, the president would not\npermit him to be publicly burned (for so much power the law gave him),\nbut, in order that he might duly discharge his office, he sentenced\nErminione to be thrown into prison, where, after a short space of time,\nhe expired. This is the wretched end which Messer Erminione put to his\nsenseless jealousy, and by these means the young wife was delivered from\nan ignominious death. Before great length of time had passed Hippolito\nmade her his lawful wife, and they lived many years happily together.\n\nWhen the story told by the discreet and modest Vicenza had come to an\nend\u2014a story which pleased all the ladies mightily\u2014the Signora bade her\nto propound her enigma in due course, and she, raising her pretty\nsmiling face, instead of one of her songs gave the following riddle:\n\n                When hope and love and strong desire\n                Are born to set the world on fire,\n                That self-same hour a beast is born,\n                All savage, meagre, and forlorn.\n                Sometimes, with seeming soft and kind,\n                Like ivy round an elm-tree twined,\n                It clips us close with bine and leaf,\n                But feeds on heartache, woe, and grief.\n                Ever in mourning garb it goes,\n                In anguish lives, in sorrow grows.\n                And worse than worst the fate of him\n                Who falls beneath its talons grim.\n\nHere Vicenza brought her enigma to an end. The interpretations of its\nmeaning were diverse, and no one of the company was found clever enough\nto fathom its true import. When Vicenza saw this, she sighed a little\nimpatiently, and then, with a smiling face, spake as follows: \u201cThe\nenigma I have set you to guess means nothing else than chilling\njealousy, which, all lean and faded, is born at the same birth with love\nitself, and winds itself round men and women as well, just as the\ngently-creeping ivy embraces the trunk so dear to it. This jealousy\nfeeds on heartache, seeing that a jealous one always lives in anguish\nand moves about in sombre garb on account of the continual melancholy\nthat torments him.\u201d This explication of the enigma gave great pleasure\nto all, and especially to Signora Chiara, whose husband had a temper\nsomewhat jealous. But, to let no one say to himself that Vicenza\u2019s\nenigma had been framed to fit his case, the Signora bade them at once\nput a stop to their laughter, and signed to Lodovica, whose turn it was\nto tell the next story, that she should forthwith begin, and the damsel\nopened her fable in the following words.\n\n\n\n\n                            THE THIRD FABLE.\n\n  =Ancilotto, King of Provino, takes to wife the daughter of a baker,\n      and has by her three children. These, after much persecution at\n      the hands of the king\u2019s mother, are made known to their father\n      through the strange working of certain water, and of an apple, and\n      of a bird.=\n\n\nI have always understood, lovesome and gracious ladies, that man is the\nnoblest and most capable of the living creatures fashioned by nature,\nseeing that God made him in His own image and similitude, and willed\nthat he should rule and not be ruled. And on this account it is said\nthat man is the perfect animal, and of greater excellence than any of\nthe others, because all these, not even excepting woman, are subject to\nhim. Therefore, those who by deceit and cunning compass the death of so\nnoble a creature commit a foul crime. And there is no wonder if\nsometimes those who work for the bane of others run heedlessly into\ndestruction themselves, as did four women I have to tell of, who, in\ntrying to destroy others, were themselves cut off and made a wretched\nend. All this you will readily understand from the fable I purpose to\ntell you.\n\nIn Provino, a very famous and royal city, there lived in ancient times\nthree sisters, fair of person, gracious in manners, and courteous in\nbearing, but of base lineage, being the daughters of a certain Messer\nRigo, a baker who baked bread for other folk in his oven. Of these one\nwas named Brunora, another Lionella, and another Chiaretta. It happened\none day when the three sisters were in their garden, and there taking\nmuch delight, that Ancilotto the king, who was going to enjoy the\ndiversion of hunting with a great company, passed that way. Brunora, the\neldest sister, when she looked upon the fair and noble assemblage, said\nto her sisters Lionella and Chiaretta, \u2018If I had for my husband the\nking\u2019s majordomo, I flatter myself that I would quench the thirst of all\nthe court with one glass of wine.\u2019 \u2018And I,\u2019 said Lionella, \u2018flatter\nmyself that, if the king\u2019s private chamberlain were my husband, I would\npledge myself to make enough linen from a spindle of my yarn to provide\nshifts of the strongest and finest make for all the court.\u2019 Then said\nChiaretta, \u2018And I, if I had the king himself for my husband, I flatter\nmyself that I would give him three children at one birth, two sons and a\ndaughter. And each of these should have long hair braided below the\nshoulders, and intermingled with threads of the finest gold, and a\ngolden necklace round the throat, and a star on the forehead of each.\u2019\n\nNow it chanced that these sayings were overheard by one of the\ncourtiers, who hastened to the king and told him of the young girls\u2019\ndiscourse, and the king, when he heard the tenour thereof, at once\ncommanded that they should be brought before him, and this done, he\nexamined them one by one as to what they had said in the garden.\nWhereupon each one, with the most respectful words, told the king what\nshe had spoken, and he was much pleased thereat. So then and there he\nwedded Brunora to the majordomo and Lionella to the chamberlain, while\nhe himself took Chiaretta to wife. There was no hunting that day, for\nthe whole company returned to the city, where the marriages were\ncelebrated with the greatest pomp. But the mother of Ancilotto was\ngreatly wroth at his marriage, for however fair Chiaretta might be in\nface and figure, and graceful in her person, and sweet and modest in her\nconversation, the queen-mother held it to be a slight to the royal\ndignity that her daughter-in-law should be of vile and common descent,\nnor could she endure it that the majordomo and the chamberlain should be\nbrothers-in-law of the king her son. These things kindled so hotly the\nrage of the queen-mother against Chiaretta that she could scarce endure\nher presence; nevertheless she hid her wrath so as not to offend her\nson. In due time (by the good pleasure of Him who rules over all),\nChiaretta became with child, to the great joy of the king, whose fancy\nat once busied itself with the prospect of the lovely progeny he had\nbeen promised.\n\nJust at the time when Chiaretta was expecting to be brought to bed,\nAncilotto was forced to make a journey to a distant country and to abide\nthere some days, and he directed that, during his absence, his mother\nshould see to the welfare of the queen and of the children who, he\nhoped, would soon be born. The queen-mother, though she hated her\ndaughter-in-law, let not the king see this, and assured him that she\nwould take the greatest care of them all, while he might be away, and\nbefore the king had been gone many days (as Chiaretta when she was a\nvirgin had pledged) three lovely children, two boys and a girl, were\nborn. Likewise their hair was braided below their shoulders, and they\nbore golden chains on their necks and golden stars on their foreheads.\nThe queen-mother, whose hatred against Chiaretta burned as malignantly\nas ever, no sooner cast her eyes upon the innocent children than she\ndetermined to have them put away privily, so that no one might know they\nhad even been, and that Chiaretta might be disgraced in the sight of the\nking. And besides this, Brunora and Lionella had grown to regard their\nsister with violent hate and jealousy since she had become their\nsovereign, and lost no chance to aggravate, by all sorts of cunning\nwiles, the spite of the queen-mother against Chiaretta.\n\nOn the very same day that the queen was delivered, it chanced that there\nwere born in the stable-yard three black mongrel pups, two dogs and a\nbitch, which, by some strange freak, had white stars on their foreheads\nand bore round their necks traces of a gorget. This coming to the\nknowledge of the two sisters, they took the pups away from the dam and\nbrought them to the queen-mother, and with humble salutations said to\nher: \u2018We know, madam, that your highness has little love for our sister,\nand quite justly; for she is of humble stock, and it is not seemly that\nyour son and our king should have mated with such an one. Hence, knowing\nthe mind you have towards her, we have brought you here three mongrel\npups, which, as you will see, were born with a star on their foreheads,\nand you can deal with them as you list.\u2019 At these words the queen-mother\nwas much pleased, divining well their evil intent, and she contrived to\nbring to her daughter-in-law, who as yet had not seen the children she\nhad borne, the three whelps, telling her at the same time they were her\nown offspring. And for the better hiding of this trick the wicked old\nwoman bade the midwife to tell the same story to the queen. So when she\nherself and the two sisters and the midwife returned to the chamber,\nthey presented to the queen the three mongrel whelps, saying, \u2018See, O\nqueen, the fruit of your womb! Cherish it well, so that the king, when\nhe comes back, may rejoice in the fair gift you have made him.\u2019 And with\nthese words the midwife put the mongrels by her side, consoling her and\ntelling her that such mischances as hers happened now and then to\npersons of high estate.\n\nThese wicked women having carried out this barbarous work, it only\nremained for them to contrive a cruel death for the three lovely\nchildren of the queen. But God mercifully held them back from soiling\ntheir hands with the blood of their kin. They made a box, which they\nwaxed within, and, having put the children therein, they closed it and\ncast it into the river to be borne away by the stream. But God in His\njustice would not allow these innocents to suffer. As the box floated\nalong it was espied by a certain miller named Marmiato, who haled it out\nand opened it, and found within three smiling children. Seeing how fair\nand graceful they were, he deemed them to be the children of some noble\nlady who, to hide her shame, had committed this crime. Having taken home\nthe box he said to his wife, who was called Gordiana, \u2018See here, wife,\nwhat I have found in the river; it is a present for you.\u2019 Gordiana\nreceived the children joyfully, and brought them up as if they had been\nher own, giving to one the name of Acquirino, to another Fluvio\u2014as they\nhad been found in the river\u2014and to the girl that of Serena.\n\nAncilotto, when he came back from his journey, was in high spirits, for\nhe fully expected to find on his return that Chiaretta had fulfilled her\npledge and given him the three fair children as she had promised; but\nthe issue was not what he hoped, for the cunning queen-mother, when she\nsaw her son drawing near, went to meet him, and told him that the wife\nhe prized so highly had given him, instead of three children, three\nmongrel dogs. And having brought him into the chamber of the unfortunate\nChiaretta, she showed him the pups which were lying beside her. The\nqueen began to weep bitterly and to deny that the dogs were her\noffspring, but her wicked sisters came and declared that everything the\nold mother had said was the truth. The king when he heard this was\ngreatly disturbed, and fell to the ground grief-stricken. After he had\ncome to himself he could scarce believe such thing could be; but at last\nhe gave ear to his mother\u2019s false tale. But Chiaretta\u2019s dignity and\nsweetness, and the patience with which she bore the insults of the\ncourtiers, won him over to spare her life, and to sentence her to be\nkept in a cell under the place where the cooking pots and pans were\nwashed, and to be fed on the garbage which was swept off the dirty sink.\n\nWhile the unhappy queen passed her life in this filthy wise, feeding\nupon carrion, Gordiana, the wife of the miller Marmiato, gave birth to a\nson who was christened Borghino and brought up with the three\nfoundlings. When Gordiana went to cut the hair of these there often fell\nout of it many precious stones and great white pearls; so with these\nriches Marmiato was able to give over the humble calling of a miller,\nand to live with his wife and the four children a life of ease and\ndelicacy. But when the three foundlings had come to years of discretion\nthey learned by chance that they were not the children of Marmiato and\nGordiana, but had been found floating in a box on the river. As soon as\nthey knew this they became very unhappy, and resolved to go their way\nand try their fortune elsewhere, much to the chagrin of their\nfoster-parents, who saw they would no longer enjoy the rich harvest of\njewels which was wont to fall from the children\u2019s locks and starry\nforeheads. The brothers and their sister having left Marmiato the miller\nand Gordiana, they all wandered about for some days, and at last came by\nchance to Provino, the city of Ancilotto their father, where they hired\na house and lived together, maintaining themselves by selling the jewels\nwhich still fell out of their hair. One day the king, who was riding\ninto the country with some of his courtiers, chanced to pass the house\nwhere the three were living, and they, as soon as they heard the king\nwas coming, ran down the steps and stood bareheaded to give him a\nrespectful salutation. They had never seen Ancilotto, so his face was\nunknown to them. The king, whose eyes were as keen as a hawk\u2019s, looked\nat them steadily, and remarked that on their foreheads there was\nsomething like a golden star, and immediately his heart was filled with\nstrong passion, and he felt that they might prove to be his children. He\nstopped and said to them: \u2018Who are you, and from whence do you come?\u2019\nAnd they answered humbly, \u2018We are poor strangers who have come to dwell\nin this your city.\u2019 Then said Ancilotto, \u2018I am greatly pleased; and what\nare you called?\u2019 Whereupon they replied that one was named Acquirino,\nand the other Fluvio, and the sister, Serena. The king then bade them to\ndinner with him next day; and the young people, though they were almost\novercome by his gracious invitation, did not venture to decline it. When\nAncilotto returned to the palace he said to his mother: \u2018Madam, when I\nwas abroad to-day I came by chance upon two handsome youths and a lovely\nmaiden, who, as they had golden stars on their foreheads, must be I\nthink the children promised to me by Queen Chiaretta.\u2019\n\nThe wicked old woman smiled at the king\u2019s words, making believe they\nwere but fancy, but within she felt as if a dagger had smitten her\nheart. Then she bade them summon the midwife who had been present at the\nbirth, and said to her in private, \u2018Good gossip, do you not know that\nthe king\u2019s children, so far from being dead as we hoped, are alive, and\nare grown up as beautiful as the day?\u2019 \u2018How can this be?\u2019 replied the\nwoman; \u2018were they not drowned in the river? Who has told you this?\u2019 The\nqueen-mother answered: \u2018From what I gather from the words of the king I\nam almost sure they are alive. We must be up and doing at once, for we\nare in great danger.\u2019 \u2018Do not be alarmed, madam,\u2019 said the midwife, \u2018I\nhave in mind a plan by which we can now assuredly compass the\ndestruction of all the three.\u2019\n\nThe midwife went out, and immediately found her way to the house of the\nking\u2019s children, and, finding Serena alone, she saluted her and talked\nof many things. After she had held a long discourse with her, she said,\n\u2018My daughter, I am curious to know if you have in your house any water\nwhich can dance.\u2019 Serena, somewhat surprised at this question, answered\nthat she had not any. \u2018Ah, my daughter,\u2019 said the gossip, \u2018what delights\nyou would enjoy if you had some of it! and if you could bathe your face\nin it you would become more beautiful even than you are now.\u2019 Said the\ngirl, with her curiosity aroused, \u2018And how can I get it?\u2019 \u2018Have you not\nbrothers?\u2019 the gossip asked. \u2018Send them to fetch it; they will easily\nfind it, for it is to be had not far from these parts.\u2019 And with these\nwords she departed. After a little Acquirino and Fluvio came back, and\nat once Serena began to beseech them that they would do their best, for\nthe love they bore her, to get for her some of the wonderful dancing\nwater; but they laughed at her request as a silly fancy, and refused to\ngo on a fool\u2019s errand, seeing that no one could say where it was to be\nfound. However, persuaded at last by the petition of their sister, whom\nthey loved very dearly, they departed together to do her bidding, taking\nwith them a phial to hold the precious water. When they had gone several\nmiles they came to a fountain out of which a snow-white dove was\ndrinking, and they were amazed when the bird spoke to them these words:\n\u2018What seek ye, young men?\u2019 To this Fluvio answered, \u2018We seek the\nprecious dancing water.\u2019 \u2018Wretched youths,\u2019 said the dove, \u2018who sends\nyou on such a quest as this?\u2019 \u2018We want it for our sister,\u2019 said Fluvio.\n\u2018Then you will surely meet your deaths,\u2019 said the dove, \u2018for the water\nyou are in search of is guarded by many fierce beasts and poisonous\ndragons, who will certainly devour you; but if you must needs have some\nof it, leave the task to me, for I will surely bring it back to you;\u2019\nand having taken the phial the dove flew away out of sight.\n\nAcquirino and Fluvio awaited her return with the greatest anxiety, and\nat last she came in sight, bearing the phial filled with the magic\nwater. They took it from her, and, having thanked her for the great\nservice she had rendered them, returned to their sister and gave her the\nwater, exhorting her never to impose such another task upon them,\nbecause they had nearly met their deaths in attempting it. A short time\nafter this the king again met the two brothers and said to them: \u2018Why\ndid you not come to dine with me after accepting my invitation?\u2019\n\u2018Gracious majesty,\u2019 they answered with profound respect, \u2018a pressing\nerrand called us away from home.\u2019 Then said the king, \u2018To-morrow I shall\nexpect to see you without fail.\u2019 The youths having made their apology,\nthe king returned to the palace, where he met his mother and told her he\nhad once more seen the youths with the stars on their foreheads. Again\nthe queen-mother was greatly perplexed, and again she bade them summon\nthe midwife, to whom she secretly told all she had heard, and at the\nsame time begged her to find a way out of the danger. The gossip bade\nher take courage, for she would so plan this time that they would be\nseen no more. The midwife went again to seek Serena, whom she found\nalone, and asked her whether she had got any of the dancing water. \u2018I\nhave it,\u2019 the girl replied, \u2018but the winning of it nearly caused the\ndeath of my brothers.\u2019 \u2018The water is fair enough,\u2019 said the woman, \u2018but\nyou ought to have likewise the singing apple. You never saw fruit so\nfair to look upon, or listened to music so sweet as that which it\ndiscourses.\u2019 \u2018But how shall I get it?\u2019 said Serena; \u2018for my brothers\nwill never go in search of it, seeing that in their last venture they\nwere more in peril of death than in hope of life.\u2019 \u2018But they won the\ndancing water for you,\u2019 said the woman, \u2018and they are still alive; they\nwill get for you the singing apple just as harmlessly;\u2019 and, having\nspoken, she went her way.\n\nScarcely had the midwife gone when Acquirino and Fluvio came in, and\nagain Serena cried out to them: \u2018Oh, my brothers! I hear now of another\nwonder, more beautiful far than the dancing water. It is the singing\napple, and if I cannot have it I shall die of vexation.\u2019 When Acquirino\nand Fluvio heard these words they chid her sharply, affirming that for\nher sake they were reluctant to brave again the risk of death. But she\ndid not cease her prayers, and she wept and sobbed so sorely that the\nbrothers, seeing that this new desire of hers came from her inmost soul,\nagain gave way and agreed to satisfy it at whatever risk. They mounted\nand rode on till they came to an inn, and demanded of the host whether\nhe could let them know where was to be found the apple which sang so\nsweetly. He told them he knew thereof, and warned them of the perils\nwhich lay in the path of anyone bold enough to seek to pluck it. \u2018It\ngrows,\u2019 he said, \u2018in the midst of a fair garden, and is watched day and\nnight by a poisonous beast which kills without fail all those who come\nnigh to the tree.\u2019 \u2018What then would you counsel us to do?\u2019 said the\nyouths; \u2018for we are set upon plucking the apple at all cost.\u2019 \u2018If you\nwill carry out my behests,\u2019 said the host, \u2018you may pluck the apple\nwithout fear of the poisonous beast or of death. You must take this\nrobe, which, as you see, is all covered with mirrors, and one of you\nmust put it on, and thus attired enter the garden, the door of which\nwill be found unfastened; but the other must bide without and be careful\nnot to let himself be seen. And the beast forthwith will make for the\none who enters, and, seeing an exact similitude of himself reflected by\nthe mirrors, will fall down to the ground, and then the adventurer may\ngo quickly up to the tree and pluck tenderly the singing apple and\nwithout once looking behind him quit the garden.\u2019 The young men thanked\ntheir host courteously, and observed all his directions so faithfully\nthat they won the apple without mischance, and carried it back to\nSerena, and again besought her no more to compel them to run into such\ndanger. Thus for a second time they failed to keep their engagement with\nthe king, who, meeting them again a few days afterwards, said: \u2018For what\nreason have you once more disobeyed my commands and failed to come and\ndine with me?\u2019 Fluvio answered as before that some weighty matters of\nbusiness had intervened and kept them from doing themselves the great\nhonour the king had proposed for them. Then said the king, \u2018You must\ncome to-morrow, and see that you fail not.\u2019 Acquirino promised\nobedience, and the king returned to his palace, where he met his mother\nand told her he had again seen the two youths, that he was more firmly\npersuaded than ever that they must be the children promised him by\nChiaretta, and that he would feel no rest till they should have eaten at\nhis table. The queen-mother when she heard that they yet lived was in\nsore terror, doubting not that her fraud had been discovered, and thus,\nstruck with grief and terror, she sent for the midwife and said to her:\n\u2018I surely thought the children were dead by this time, and that we\nshould hear no more of them; but they are alive, and we stand in peril\nof death. Look therefore to our affair; otherwise we shall be lost.\u2019\n\u2018Noble lady,\u2019 said the midwife, \u2018take heart. This time I will work their\nbane without fail, and you will bless me therefor, seeing that they will\ntrouble you no longer;\u2019 and the woman, full of rage at her failure,\nagain repaired to the house of Serena, where she found the girl alone.\nWith crafty speech she inquired of Serena whether she had indeed got the\nsinging apple, and the girl made answer that she had. Then said the\ncunning woman: \u2018Ah, my daughter, you must think that you have nothing at\nall if you do not get one thing more, the most beautiful, the most\ngraceful thing in the world.\u2019 \u2018Good mother, what may this fair thing\nbe?\u2019 said the girl. The old woman replied: \u2018It is the beautiful green\nbird, my child, which talks night and day, and speaks words of\nmarvellous wisdom. If you had it in your keeping you might indeed call\nyourself happy;\u2019 and, having thus spoken, she went her way.\n\nAcquirino and Fluvio came in almost directly after she was gone, and\nSerena forthwith began to beg them to do her one last favour, whereupon\nthey asked her what might be this boon which she desired. She answered\nthat she wanted the beautiful green bird. Fluvio, who had plucked the\napple guarded by the venomous beast, was still haunted by the peril of\nhis adventure, and refused to go in quest of the bird. Acquirino, though\nfor a long time he too turned a deaf ear, was finally moved by the\nbrotherly love he felt and by the hot tears of grief which Serena shed,\nand determined to satisfy her wish. Fluvio also agreed to accompany him,\nand, having mounted their horses, they rode for several days, until at\nlast they came into a flowery green meadow, in the midst of which stood\na lofty tree surrounded with marble statues which mocked life by their\nmarvellous workmanship. Through the meadow there ran a little stream,\nand up in the tall tree lived the beautiful green bird, which hopped\nabout from bough to bough in lively fashion, uttering the while words\nwhich seemed rather divine than human. The young men dismounted from\ntheir palfreys, which they left to graze at will, and went close to the\nmarble statues to examine them; but, as soon as they touched these, they\nthemselves were turned into marble as they stood.\n\nNow Serena, when for several months she had anxiously looked for the\nreturn of her dear brothers Acquirino and Fluvio, began to despair and\nto fear she would never see them more, and, overcome with grief at their\nunhappy fate, she resolved to try her own fortune. So she mounted a\nmettlesome horse, and rode on and on till she came to the fair meadow\nwhere the green bird was hopping about on the tall tree and softly\ntalking. There the first things she saw were her brothers\u2019 horses, which\nwere grazing on the turf, and, casting her eyes upon the statues, she\nsaw that two of them must be Acquirino and Fluvio, for the unhappy\nyouths, though turned into marble, retained their features exactly as in\nlife. Serena dismounted, and going softly up to the tree she laid hands\non the green bird from behind, and he, finding himself a prisoner,\nbesought her to let him go, and promised that at the right time and\nplace he would remember her. But Serena answered that first of all he\nmust restore her brothers to their former state, upon which the bird\nreplied: \u2018Look then under my left wing, and there you will find a\nfeather much greener than any of the others and marked with yellow.\nPluck it out and touch with it the eyes of the statues, and then your\nbrothers will return to flesh and blood.\u2019 Serena raised the wing and\nfound the feather, and did as the bird had directed, and the statues of\nAcquirino and Fluvio at once became living men and embraced their sister\njoyfully.\n\nThis wonder being accomplished, the bird again besought Serena to give\nhim his liberty, promising that if she would grant his prayer he would\ncome to her aid whenever she might call upon him; but Serena was not to\nbe thus cajoled, and declared that before she would let him go free he\nmust help them to find their father and mother, and that until he had\naccomplished this task he must be her prisoner.\n\nThere had already arisen some dispute amongst the three as to who should\nhave the bird in keeping, but in the end they settled that it should be\nleft in charge of Serena, who tended it with great care and watched over\nit. The affair having come to this happy issue, they mounted their\nhorses and rode home. Meantime Ancilotto had often passed by their\nhouse, and finding it empty was much astonished, and inquired of the\nneighbours what had become of them; but all he could learn was that\nnothing had been seen of them for many days. They had not been back long\nbefore the king again rode by, and, catching sight of them, asked how it\nwas that nothing had been seen of them for so long, and why they had\ndisregarded his commands so often. Acquirino answered with deep respect\nthat some amazing troubles and adventures had befallen them, and that if\nthey had not presented themselves at the palace before his majesty as he\nhad desired it was through no want of reverence. They were all anxious\nto amend their conduct in the future.\n\nThe king, when he heard they had been in tribulation, was moved to pity,\nand bade them all accompany him back to the palace to dinner; but before\nthey set forth Acquirino filled secretly a phial with the dancing water,\nFluvio took the singing apple, and Serena the talking bird, and they\nrode back with the king and joyously entered the palace with him and sat\ndown at the royal table. It chanced that the queen-mother and also the\ntwo sisters of Chiaretta marked them as they passed, and observing the\nbeauty of the maiden and the handsome bright-eyed youths, they were\nfilled with dread and suspicion as to who they might be. When the royal\nbanquet had come to an end, Acquirino said to the king: \u2018May it please\nyour majesty that, before we take our leave, we should show your majesty\nsome marvels which may delight you;\u2019 and with these words he poured into\na silver tazza some of the dancing water, while Fluvio put his hand into\nhis bosom and drew therefrom the singing apple, which he placed beside\nthe water. Serena also brought out the talking bird, and set it on the\ntable. Immediately the apple began to sing most sweetly, and the\nwonderful water to dance, so that the king and all the courtiers were\ndelighted and laughed aloud with pleasure; but the queen-mother and the\nwicked sisters were smitten with dire dismay, for they felt that their\ndoom was near.\n\nAt last, when the apple and the water had ceased to sing and dance, the\nbird opened its mouth and said: \u2018O sacred majesty! what doom should be\ndealt to those who once plotted death against two brothers and a\nsister?\u2019 Then the cunning queen-mother, scheming to excuse herself,\ncried out: \u2018No lighter doom than death by burning;\u2019 and in this\ncondemnation all those who were present agreed. To answer her the\nsinging apple and the dancing water said straightway: \u2018Ah, false and\ncruel woman! your own tongue has doomed yourself, and those wicked and\nenvious sisters of the queen, and the vile midwife, to this horrible\ndeath.\u2019\n\nWhen the king heard these words his heart grew cold with terror; but\nbefore he could speak the talking bird began and said: \u2018O sacred\nmajesty! these are the three children you longed for, your children who\nbear the star on their foreheads; and their innocent mother, is she not\nto this day kept a prisoner under the filthy scullery?\u2019 Then the king\nsaw clearly how he had been tricked, and gave order that the unhappy\nChiaretta should be taken out of her noisome prison and robed once more\nin her royal garments, and, as soon as this had been done, she was\nbrought into the presence of the king and of his court. And though she\nhad for so long time suffered such cruel usage, she retained all her\nformer loveliness. Then the talking bird related the strange history\nfrom beginning to end, and the king, when he knew it all, embraced\ntenderly Chiaretta and their three children; but the dancing water and\nthe singing apple and the talking bird, having been set at liberty,\ndisappeared straightway.\n\nThe next day the king commanded to be lighted in the centre of the\nmarket a huge fire, into which he caused to be thrown, without pity, his\nmother and the two sisters of Chiaretta and the midwife, so that in the\npresence of everybody they might be burnt to death. And Ancilotto lived\nhappily many years with his beloved wife and his beautiful children,\nand, having chosen for Serena an honourable husband, he left his two\nsons the heirs of his kingdom.\n\nLodovica\u2019s story gave great delight to all the ladies, and the Signora,\nhaving commanded her to supplement it in due order, she propounded the\nfollowing enigma:\n\n                When Sol pours down his fiercest heat,\n                High on Gheraldo\u2019s lofty seat,\n                A wight I marked, with roguish eye,\n                Shut fast within a closure high.\n                All through the day he prates and talks,\n                And clad in robes of emerald walks.\n                I\u2019ve told you all except his name,\n                And that from your own wit I claim.\n\nMany were the interpretations put upon this enigma, but no one came near\nto the mark save the charming Isabella, who, greatly pleased with\nherself, said in a merry tone: \u201cThere is no other possible signification\nof Lodovica\u2019s enigma except to name the parroquet, which lives within a\ncage, the closure, and has plumage green as emerald, and talks all day\nlong.\u201d The clever solution of the riddle pleased everybody except\nLodovica, who had flattered herself that no one would be clever enough\nto solve it, and who now became almost dumb with vexation. A little\nlater, when the flush of anger had faded somewhat from her cheek, she\nturned to Isabella, whose turn it was to tell the fourth story, and\nsaid: \u201cI am vexed, Isabella, not from envy of you, as the teller of the\nnext story, but because I feel myself inferior to those other companions\nof yours who have had to give the solution of their riddles, the company\nnot being able to solve them; whereas mine was guessed at once. Be\nassured, however, that if I can give you a Roland for your Oliver, I\nwill not be caught napping.\u201d[27] Isabella answered quickly, \u201cYou will do\nwell, Signora Lodovica, but\u2014\u201d Here the Signora, who saw that the\ncontention was like to grow warm between the two, commanded Isabella to\ngo on at once with her story, which, with a smile, she began to tell as\nfollows.\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                           THE FOURTH FABLE.\n\n  =Nerino, the son of Gallese, King of Portugal, becoming enamoured of\n      Genobbia, wife of Messer Raimondo Brunello, a physician, has his\n      will of her and carries her with him to Portugal, while Messer\n      Raimondo dies of grief.=\n\n\nI must tell you, charming ladies, that there are very many men who,\nbecause they have consumed a great part of their time over the study of\nletters, are persuaded that they are mighty wise, whereas in truth they\nknow little or nothing. And while men of this sort think they are\nmarking their foreheads with lines of wisdom, they too often only scoop\nout their own eyes,[28] which thing happened to a certain physician,\ngreatly skilled in his calling, for he, while he deemed he was about to\nput a cheat upon another, was himself most ignominiously duped, to his\nown great injury, all of which you will learn from the fable which I\nwill presently tell you.\n\nGallese, King of Portugal, had a son whose name was Nerino, and in the\nbringing up of this boy he followed such a course that up to the time\nwhen he reached his eighteenth year Nerino had never once cast eyes upon\na woman except his mother and the nurse who had the care of him.\nWherefore when he had come to full age the king determined to send him\nto pursue his studies in the university of Padua, so that he might get a\nknowledge of Latin letters and of the tongue and manners of the Italians\nas well. And the plan which he had devised he duly carried out. When the\nyoung Nerino had come to Padua, he soon acquired the friendship of many\nof the scholars, and every day these would come to pay their respects to\nhim, one of the above named being a certain Messer Raimondo Brunello, a\nphysician. It chanced one day, as Nerino and this friend of his were\nconversing now about this thing and now about that, they engaged (as is\nthe manner of sprightly youths) in a discourse anent the beauty of\nwomen, and on this subject the former took one view and the latter\nanother. But Nerino, though he had never in times past cast eyes upon\nany woman save his mother and his nurse, declared with some heat that in\nhis reckoning there could not be found in all the world any lady who\nshould be more beautiful, more graceful, and more exquisite than was his\nown mother. And when, by way of putting this speech of his to the test,\nthey brought divers ladies to his notice, he still declared that in\ncomparison to his mother they were little better than carrion.\n\nNow Messer Raimondo had to wife a lady who was one of the fairest nature\never created, and when he listened to this chattering he settled his\ngorget and said: \u2018Signor Nerino, I happen to have seen a certain lady\nwho is of such great loveliness that when you shall have beheld her I\nthink it probable you will judge her to be not less but more beautiful\nthan your mother.\u2019 To this speech Nerino made answer that he could not\nbelieve there could be any woman more lovely than his mother, but at the\nsame time it would give him great pleasure to look upon this one.\nWhereupon Messer Raimondo said: \u2018Whenever it shall please you to behold\nher I will gladly point her out to you.\u2019 Nerino replied: \u2018I am much\npleased at what you propose, and I shall ever be obliged to you.\u2019 Then\nMesser Raimondo said at once: \u2018Since it will give you pleasure to see\nher, take care to be present in the Church of the Duomo to-morrow\nmorning, for there I promise you that you shall have sight of her.\u2019\n\nWhen he had returned to his house, Messer Raimondo said to his wife:\n\u2018To-morrow morning see that you rise betimes, and deck carefully your\nhead, and make yourself seem as fair as you can, and put on the most\nsumptuous raiment you possess, for I have a mind that you should go to\nthe Duomo at the hour of high mass to hear the office.\u2019 Genobbia (for\nthis was the name of Messer Raimondo\u2019s wife), not being in the habit of\ngoing now hither now thither, but rather to pass all her time at home\nover her sewing and broidery work, was much astonished at these words;\nbut, seeing that her husband\u2019s command fell in well with her own desire,\nshe did all she was directed to do, and set herself so well in order and\ndecked herself so featly that she looked more like a goddess than like a\nmortal woman. And when Genobbia, following the command which her husband\nhad laid upon her, had entered into the holy fane, there came thither\nlikewise Nerino, the son of the king, and when he had looked upon her he\nfound that she was exceedingly fair. When the lady had gone her way,\nMesser Raimondo came upon the scene, and having gone up to Nerino spake\nthus: \u2018Now how does that lady who is just gone out of the church please\nyou? Does she seem to you to be one who ought to be compared with any\nother? Say, is she not more beautiful than your mother?\u2019 \u2018Of a truth,\u2019\nreplied Nerino, \u2018she is fair, and nature could not possibly make aught\nthat is fairer; but tell me of your courtesy of whom is she the wife,\nand where does she dwell?\u2019 But to this query Messer Raimondo did not\nanswer so as to humour Nerino\u2019s wish, forasmuch as he had no mind to\ngive him the clue he sought. Then said Nerino, \u2018My good Messer Raimondo,\nthough you may not be willing to tell me who she is and where she\ndwells, at least you might do me such good office as to let me see her\nonce more.\u2019 \u2018This I will do willingly,\u2019 answered Messer Raimondo.\n\u2018To-morrow come here again into the church, and I will so bring it to\npass that you shall see her as you have seen her to-day.\u2019\n\nWhen Messer Raimondo had gone back to his house, he said to his wife,\n\u2018Genobbia, see that you attire yourself to-morrow; for I wish that you\nshould go to the mass in the Duomo, and if hitherto you have ever made\nyourself look beautiful or have arrayed yourself sumptuously, see that\nyou do the same to-morrow.\u2019 When she heard this, Genobbia (as on the\nformer occasion) was greatly astonished, but since the command of her\nhusband pointed to this matter, she did everything even as he had\nordered. When the morrow came, Genobbia, sumptuously clothed and adorned\nmore richly than was her wont, betook herself to the church, and in a\nvery short time Nerino came likewise. He, when he saw how very fair she\nwas, was inflamed by love of her more ardently than ever man had burned\nfor woman before, and, when Messer Raimondo arrived, begged him to tell\nstraightway what might be the name of this lady who seemed in his eyes\nto be so marvellously beautiful. But Messer Raimondo, making excuse that\nhe was greatly pressed for time to give to his own affairs, was in no\nhumour to thus inform Nerino on the spot, and was rather disposed to\nleave the galliard to stew for a time in his own fat; so he went his way\nin high spirits. Whereupon Nerino, with his temper somewhat ruffled by\nthe mean account in which Messer Raimondo seemed to hold him, spake thus\nto himself: \u2018Aha! you are not willing that I should have an inkling as\nto who she is and where she lives, but I will know what I want to know\nin spite of you.\u2019\n\nAfter he had left the church, Nerino waited outside until such time as\nthe fair dame should likewise issue forth, and then, having given her a\nmodest obeisance with a smiling countenance, he went with her as far as\nher home. Now, as soon as Nerino had got to know clearly the house where\nshe dwelt, he began to cast amorous eyes upon her, and never a day\npassed on which he would not pass up and down ten times in front of her\nwindow. Wherefore, having a great desire to hold converse with her, he\nset about considering what course he should follow in order to keep\nunsullied the honour of the lady, and at the same time to attain his own\nend. But, having pondered over the affair, and looked at it on every\nside without lighting upon any course which seemed to promise security,\nhe at last, after a mighty amount of imagining, determined to make the\nacquaintance of an old woman who lived in a house opposite to that\noccupied by Genobbia. After having sent to her certain presents, and\nsettled and confirmed the compact between them, he went secretly into\nthe old woman\u2019s lodging, in which there was a certain window overlooking\nthe hall of Genobbia\u2019s house, where he might stand and gaze at his good\nconvenience at the lady as she went up and down about the house; at the\nsame time, he had no wish to divulge himself, and thereby give her any\npretext for withdrawing herself from his sight. Nerino, having spent one\nday after another in these amorous glances, at last found himself no\nlonger able to resist the burning desire within him which consumed his\nvery heart; so he made up his mind to write a letter and to throw it\ndown into her lodging at a certain time when he should judge her husband\nto be away from home. And several times he wrote letters as he had\nplanned and threw them down to her.\n\nBut Genobbia, without reading the billet she picked up, cast it into the\nfire, and it was burnt. After she had done this several times, on a\ncertain day it came into her mind to break open one of the notes and see\nwhat might be written therein. When she had broken the seal and marked\nthat the writer was no other than Nerino, the son of the King of\nPortugal, who declared thereby his fervent love of her, she was at first\nwellnigh confounded, but after a little, when she had called to mind the\npoor cheer she enjoyed in her husband\u2019s house, she plucked up heart and\nbegan to look kindly upon Nerino. At last, having come to an agreement\nwith him, she found means to bring him into the house, when the youth\nlaid before her the story of the ardent love he bore her, and of the\ntorments he endured every day on her account, and in like manner the way\nby which his passion for her had been kindled. Wherefore the lady, who\nwas alike lovely and kindly-hearted and complaisant, felt herself in no\nhumour to reject his suit. And while the two thus foregathered, happy in\nthe consciousness of mutual love and indulging in amorous discourse, lo\nand behold! Messer Raimondo knocked suddenly at the door. When Genobbia\nheard this she bade Nerino go straightway and lie down on the bed, and\nto let down the curtains, and to remain there until such time as her\nhusband should be once more gone out. The husband came in, and having\ntaken divers trifles of which he had need, went away without giving heed\nto aught besides, and a little later Nerino followed him.\n\nOn the following day, when it happened that Nerino was walking up and\ndown the piazza, Messer Raimondo by chance went that way, to whom Nerino\nmake known by sign that he wanted to have a word with him. Wherefore,\nhaving approached him, he spake thus: \u2018Signor, have I not a good bit of\nnews to tell you?\u2019 \u2018And what may it be?\u2019 replied Messer Raimondo. \u2018Do I\nnot know,\u2019 said Nerino, \u2018the house where dwells that beautiful lady? and\nhave I not had some delightful intercourse with her? But because her\nhusband came home unexpectedly she hid me in the bed, and drew the\ncurtains for fear that he should see me; however, he soon went out\nagain.\u2019 \u2018Is it possible?\u2019 said Messer Raimondo. \u2018Possible!\u2019 answered\nNerino, \u2018it is more than possible\u2014it is a fact. Never in all my life\nhave I seen so delightful, so sweet a lady as she. If by any chance,\nsignor, you should meet her, I beg you to speak a good word on my\nbehalf, and to entreat her to keep me in her good graces.\u2019 Messer\nRaimondo, having promised to do what the youth asked him, went his way\nwith ill will in his heart. But before he left Nerino he said, \u2018And do\nyou propose to go in search of your good fortune again?\u2019 To this Nerino\nreplied, \u2018Return! what should one do in such case?\u2019 Then Messer Raimondo\nwent back to his house, and was careful to let drop no word in his\nwife\u2019s presence, but to wait for the time when she and Nerino should\nagain come together.\n\nWhen the next day had come Nerino once more stole to a meeting with\nGenobbia, and while they were in the midst of their amorous delights and\npleasant converse the husband came back to the house, but the lady\nquickly hid Nerino in a chest in front of which she heaped a lot of\nclothes from which she had been ripping the wadding to keep them from\ndestruction by insects. The husband, making believe to search for\ncertain things, turned the house upside down, and pried even into the\nbed, but, finding nothing of the sort he looked for, went about his\nbusiness with his mind more at ease.\n\nVery soon Nerino also departed, and afterwards, chancing to meet Messer\nRaimondo, he thus addressed him: \u2018Signor doctor, what would you say if\nyou heard I had paid another visit to my charming lady, and that envious\nfortune broke in upon our pleasure, seeing that the husband again\narrived and spoilt all our sport?\u2019 \u2018And what did you then?\u2019 said Messer\nRaimondo. \u2018She straightway opened a chest,\u2019 said Nerino, \u2018and put me\ntherein, and in front of the chest she piled up a heap of clothes which\nshe was working at in order to preserve them from moth, and after he had\nturned the bed upside down more than once without finding aught, he went\naway.\u2019 What tortures Messer Raimondo must have suffered when he listened\nto these words I leave to the judgment of any who may know the humours\nof love.\n\nNow Nerino had given to Genobbia a very fine and precious diamond,\nwithin the golden setting of which was engraved his name and his\nlikeness. The very next day, when Messer Raimondo had gone to see to his\naffairs, the lady once more let Nerino into the house, and while they\nwere taking their pleasure and talking pleasantly together, behold! the\nhusband again came back to the house. But the crafty Genobbia, as soon\nas she remarked his coming, immediately opened a large wardrobe which\nstood in her chamber, and hid Nerino therein. Almost immediately Messer\nRaimondo entered the chamber, pretending as before that he was in search\nof certain things he wanted, and in quest thereof he turned the room\nupside down. But, finding nothing either in the bed or in the chest,\nlike a man out of his wits he took fire and strewed it in the four\ncorners of the chamber, with the intention of burning the place and all\nthat it contained.\n\nNow the party walls and the wooden framing of the apartment soon caught\nfire, whereupon Genobbia, turning to her husband, said: \u2018What is this\nyou are doing, husband? Surely you must be gone mad. Still, if you wish\nto burn up the room, burn it as you will, but by my faith I will not\nhave you burn this wardrobe, wherein are all the papers relating to my\ndowry.\u2019 So, having summoned four strong porters, she bade them carry the\nwardrobe out of the house and bear it into the neighbouring house which\nbelonged to the old woman. Then she opened the wardrobe secretly when no\none was by and returned to her own house. Messer Raimondo, now like one\nout of his mind, still kept a sharp watch to see whether anybody who\nought not to have been there might be driven out of hiding by the\nconflagration, but he met with nothing save the smoke, which was\nbecoming insufferable, and the fierce flames which were consuming the\nhouse. And by this time all the neighbours had gathered together to put\nout the fire, and so well and heartily did they work that in time it was\nextinguished.\n\nOn the following day, as Nerino was sallying forth towards the fields in\nthe valley, he met Messer Raimondo, and after giving him a salute, said\nto him: \u2018Aha, my gentleman! I have got a piece of news to tell you which\nought to please you mightily.\u2019 \u2018And what may this news be?\u2019 said Messer\nRaimondo. \u2018I have just made my escape,\u2019 said Nerino, \u2018from the most\nfrightful peril that ever man came out of without loss of his life. I\nhad gone to the house of my lovely mistress, and while I was spending\nthe time with her in all manner of delightful dallying her husband once\nmore broke in upon our content, and after he had turned the house upside\ndown, lighted some fire, and this he scattered about in the four corners\nof the room and burnt up all the chattels there were about.\u2019 \u2018And you,\u2019\nsaid Messer Raimondo, \u2018where were you the while?\u2019 Then answered Nerino,\n\u2018I was hidden in a wardrobe which she caused to be taken out of the\nhouse.\u2019 And when Messer Raimondo heard this, and clearly understood all\nwhich Nerino told him to be the truth, he was like to die of grief and\npassion. Nevertheless, he did not dare to let his secret be known,\nbecause he was determined still to catch him in the act. Wherefore he\nsaid to him, \u2018And are you bent upon going thither again, Signor Nerino?\u2019\nto which Nerino made answer, \u2018Seeing that I have come safely out of the\nfire, what else is there for me to fear?\u2019 And, letting pass any further\nremarks of this sort, Messer Raimondo begged Nerino that he would do him\nthe honour of dining with him on the morrow; which civility the young\nman willingly accepted.\n\nWhen the next day had come, Messer Raimondo bade assemble at his house\nall his own relations and his wife\u2019s as well, and prepared for their\nentertainment a rich and magnificent repast\u2014not in the house which had\nbeen half consumed by fire, but in another. He gave directions to his\nwife, moreover, that she also should be present, not to sit at table as\na guest, but to keep herself out of sight, and see to the ordering of\naught which might be required for the banquet. As soon as all the\nkinsfolk had assembled, and the young Nerino as well, they were bidden\ntake their places at the board, and as the feast went on Messer Raimondo\ntried his best with his charlatan science to make Nerino drunk, in order\nto be able to work his will upon him. Having several times handed to the\nyouth a glass of malvoisie wine, which he never failed to empty, Messer\nRaimondo said to him: \u2018Now, Signor Nerino, cannot you tell to these\nkinsfolk of mine some little jest which may make them laugh?\u2019 The\nluckless Nerino, who had no inkling that Genobbia was Messer Raimondo\u2019s\nwife, began to tell the story of his adventures, keeping back, however,\nthe names of all concerned.\n\nIt chanced at this moment that one of the servants went into the room\napart where Genobbia was, and said to her: \u2018Madonna, if only you were\nnow hidden in some corner of the feasting-room, you would hear told the\nfinest story you ever heard in your life. I pray you go in quick.\u2019 And,\nhaving stolen into a corner, she knew that the voice of the story-teller\nbelonged to Nerino her lover, and that the tale he was giving to the\ncompany concerned himself and her as well. Whereupon this prudent and\nsharp-witted dame took the diamond which Nerino had given her, and,\nhaving placed it in a cup filled with a very dainty drink, she said to a\nservant, \u2018Take this cup and give it to Signor Nerino, and tell him to\ndrink it off forthwith, that he may tell his story the better.\u2019 The\nservant took the cup and placed it on the table, whereupon Nerino gave\nsign that he wished to drink therefrom; so the servant said to him,\n\u2018Take this cup, signor, so that you may tell your story the better.\u2019\n\nNerino took the cup and forthwith drank all the wine therein, when,\nseeing and recognizing the diamond which lay at the bottom, he let it\npass into his mouth. Then making pretence of rinsing his teeth, he drew\nforth the ring and put it on his finger. As soon as he was well assured\nthat the fair lady about whom he was telling his story was the wife of\nMesser Raimondo, he had no mind to say more, and when Messer Raimondo\nand his kinsfolk began to urge him to bring the tale which he had begun\nto an end, he replied, \u2018And then and there the cock crowed and the day\nbroke, so I awoke from my sleep and heard nothing more.\u2019 Messer\nRaimondo\u2019s kinsmen, having listened to Nerino\u2019s story, and up to this\ntime believed all he had said about the lady to be the truth, now\nimagined that both their host and the young man were drunk.\n\nAfter several days had passed it happened that Nerino met Messer\nRaimondo, and feigning not to know that he was the husband of Genobbia,\ntold him that within the space of two days he would take his departure,\nbecause his father had written to him to bid him without fail to return\nto his own country. Whereupon Messer Raimondo wished him good speed for\nhis journey. Nerino, having come to a private understanding with\nGenobbia, carried her off with him and fled to Portugal, where they long\nlived a gay life together; but Messer Raimondo, when he went back to his\nhouse and found that his wife was gone, was stricken with despair, and\ndied in the course of a few days.\n\nIsabella\u2019s fable pleased the ladies and gentlemen equally well, and they\nrejoiced especially that Messer Raimondo himself proved to be the cause\nof his own misfortune, and that the thing which he had courted had\nreally fallen upon him. And when the Signora marked that this discourse\nwas come to an end, she gave the sign to Isabella to finish her task in\ndue order, and she, in no wise neglectful of the Signora\u2019s command, gave\nthe enigma which follows:\n\n                In the middle of the night,\n                Rises one with beard bedight.\n                Though no astrologer he be,\n                He marks the hours which pass and flee.\n                He wears a crown, although no king;\n                No priest, yet he the hour doth sing.\n                Though spurred at heel he is no knight;\n                No wife he calls his own by right,\n                Yet children many round him dwell.\n                Sharp wits you need this thing to tell.\n\nHere the cleverly-devised enigma of Isabella came to an end, and\nalthough the various listeners went casting about in various directions,\nno one hit upon the exact truth except the somewhat haughty Lodovica,\nwho, mindful of the slight which had of late been put upon her, rose to\nher feet and spake thus: \u201cThe enigma which our sister has set us to\nguess means nothing else than the cock, which is on the alert to crow\nwhile it is yet night; which wears a beard and has knowledge of the\npassage of time, although he is no astrologer. He bears a crest instead\nof a crown, and is no king; he sings the hours, yet is no priest.\nBesides this, he wears spurs on his heels; he has no wife, and brings up\nthe children of others, that is to say, the young chickens.\u201d\n\nAll the listeners commended this solution of Isabella\u2019s skilful enigma,\nespecially Capello, who said: \u201cSignora Isabella, Lodovica has given you\nback bread for your bannock,[29] seeing that a short time ago you very\ncleverly declared the meaning of her enigma and now she has mastered\nyours; but for this reason you must not harbour malice one against\nanother.\u201d Then Lodovica answered promptly, \u201cSignor Bernardo, when the\nnight time is come, I will pay you back yea for yea.\u201d[30]\n\nBut in order to keep the discourse within limits, the Signora imposed\nsilence upon all, and, turning her face towards Lionora, whose turn it\nwas to tell the last story of the night, directed her to begin, with due\ncourtesy, her fable, and the damsel, with the best grace in the world,\nthus began.\n\n\n\n\n                            THE FIFTH FABLE.\n\n  =Flamminio Veraldo sets out from Ostia in search of Death, and, not\n      finding it, meets Life instead; this latter lets him see Fear and\n      make trial of Death.=\n\n\nMany are the men who with all care and diligence go searching narrowly\nfor certain things, which, when they have gained them, they find of no\nvalue, and would gladly forego, fleeing therefrom with all speed, just\nas the devil flies from holy water. This was the case of Flamminio, who,\nwhen he went seeking Death, found Life, who made him see Fear and make\ntrial of Death. All of which you will find clearly set forth in this\nfable.\n\nIn Ostia, an ancient city situated no great distance from Rome, there\nlived in former days, according to the common report, a young man of a\nnature rather weak and errant than stable and prudent, whose name was\nFlamminio Veraldo. He had heard it said over and over again that there\nwas in all the world nothing more terrible and frightful than Death, the\ndark and inevitable one, seeing that he shows pity to none, having\nrespect to no man, however poor or rich he may be. Wherefore, being\nfilled with wonder at what he had heard, he determined by himself to\nfind and to see with his own eyes what manner of thing this might be\nwhich men called Death. And having attired himself in coarse garments,\nand taken in hand a staff of strong cornel-wood well shod with iron, he\nset forth from Ostia. Flamminio, when he had travelled over many miles\nof road, came one day into a certain street, in the midst of which he\nespied, sitting in his stall, a cobbler making shoes and gaiters, and\nthis cobbler, although there was lying about a great quantity of his\nfinished work, kept on steadily at his task of making yet more.\n\nFlamminio, going up to the cobbler, said to him, \u2018God be with you, good\nmaster!\u2019 and to this the cobbler replied, \u2018You are right welcome here,\nmy son.\u2019 Then said Flamminio, \u2018What is this task you labour at?\u2019 \u2018I\nlabour indeed,\u2019 replied the cobbler, \u2018and toil hard that I may not\nlanguish in want.[31] Nevertheless, I am in want, and I weary myself\nover making shoes.\u2019 \u2018Why do you thus,\u2019 said Flamminio, \u2018seeing that you\nhave so many pairs made already? What is the good of making more?\u2019 \u2018I\nmake them,\u2019 said the cobbler, \u2018to wear myself, to sell for my own\nsustenance and for the sustenance of my little household, and in order\nthat when I become an old man I may be able to live on the money I have\nmade by my handicraft.\u2019 \u2018And what will you do next?\u2019 asked Flamminio.\n\u2018After this,\u2019 said the cobbler, \u2018I shall die.\u2019 \u2018You will die!\u2019 cried\nFlamminio in reply. \u2018Yes,\u2019 said the cobbler. Then cried Flamminio, \u2018Oh,\nmy good master! can you of your own knowledge tell me what may be this\nthing they call Death?\u2019 The cobbler answered, \u2018Of a truth I cannot.\u2019\n\u2018What, have you never seen him?\u2019 said Flamminio. To this master cobbler\nmade answer, \u2018I have never seen him, nor have I any wish to see him now,\nor to taste his quality. Moreover, all men say that he is the strangest\nand most terrible monster the world holds.\u2019 Then Flamminio said, \u2018At\nleast you will be able of your knowledge to teach me and tell me where\nhe abides, because day and night I wander over mountains and through\nvalleys and swamps seeking him without ever hearing tidings as to where\nhe may be found?\u2019 The cobbler answered, \u2018I know nothing as to where\nDeath may dwell, nor where he is to be found, nor what he is made of;\nbut if you go on with your journey somewhat farther, peradventure you\nwill find him.\u2019\n\nWhereupon Flamminio, having taken his leave, parted from the cobbler,\nand betook himself onwards to a spot where he came upon a dense and\nshadowy forest, and entered therein. In a certain place he saw a\npeasant, who, though he had already cut a vast pile of wood for burning,\nwent on cutting more with all his might. And when they had exchanged\ngreetings one with another, Flamminio said to him, \u2018My brother, what are\nyou going to do with so vast a heap of wood as this?\u2019 And to this the\npeasant made answer, \u2018I am preparing it to kindle fire therewith in the\nwinter that is coming, when we shall have snow and ice and villainous\nmist, so that I may be able to keep warm myself and my children, and to\nsell whatsoever may be to spare, and to buy with the profit thereof\nbread and wine and clothing, and all other things which may be necessary\nfor our daily sustenance, and thus to pass our lives until Death comes\nto fetch us.\u2019 \u2018Now, by your courtesy,\u2019 said Flamminio, \u2018could you tell\nme where this same Death is to be found?\u2019 \u2018Of a surety I cannot,\u2019 the\npeasant replied, \u2018seeing that I have never once seen him, nor do I know\nwhere he abides. I am here in this wood all the day long taking heed to\nmy own affairs. Very few wayfarers come into these parts, and I know\nnone of those who pass by.\u2019 \u2018What then shall I do to find him?\u2019 demanded\nFlamminio; and to this the peasant made answer, \u2018As to myself, I know\nnot at all what to say to you nor how to direct you. I can only bid you\nto travel yet farther onward, and then peradventure you may meet with\nhim.\u2019\n\nHaving taken leave of the peasant, Flamminio departed and walked and\nwalked until he came to a certain place where dwelt a tailor, who had a\nvast store of clothes upon the pegs, and a warehouse filled with all\nkinds of the finest garments. Said Flamminio to him, \u2018God be with you,\nmy good master!\u2019 and the tailor replied, \u2018And the same good wish to\nyou.\u2019 \u2018What are you going to do with all this store of fair and\nsumptuous raiment, and all the noble garments I see here? Do they all\nbelong to you?\u2019 Then the master tailor made answer, \u2018Certain of them are\nmy own, some belong to the merchants, some to the gentlefolk, and some\nto various people who have dealings with me.\u2019 \u2018But what use can they\nfind for so many?\u2019 asked Flamminio. \u2018They wear them in the different\nseasons of the year,\u2019 the tailor answered, and showing them all to\nFlamminio, he went on, \u2018These they wear in the summer and these in the\nwinter, and these others in the seasons which come between, clothing\nthemselves sometimes in one fashion and sometimes in another.\u2019 \u2018And in\nthe end what do they do?\u2019 asked Flamminio. The tailor answered, \u2018They go\non in this course until the day of their death.\u2019 Flamminio hearing the\ntailor speak of Death said, \u2018Oh, my good master! could you tell me where\nI may find this Death you tell of?\u2019 The tailor, speaking as if he were\ninflamed with anger and perturbed in spirit, said: \u2018My son, you go about\nasking questions which are indeed strange. I surely cannot tell you nor\ndirect you where he may abide, for I never let my thoughts turn to him,\nand it is an occasion of great offence to me when anyone begins to talk\nof him. Wherefore I bid you either to discourse of some other matter or\nto go your way, for all such talk as this displeases me vastly.\u2019 And\nFlamminio, having taken leave of the tailor, departed on his journey.\n\nIt came to pass that Flamminio, after he had traversed many lands, came\nat last to a desert and solitary place, where he found a hermit with his\nbeard all matted with dirt, and his body worn away by the passage of the\nyears and by fasting, letting his mind concern itself only in\ncontemplation. Whereupon, thinking that assuredly he had at last found\nDeath, Flamminio thus addressed him: \u2018Of a truth, I am very glad to meet\nwith you, holy father.\u2019 \u2018The sight of you is welcome to me, my son,\u2019 the\nhermit replied. \u2018My good father,\u2019 said Flamminio, \u2018what do you here in\nthis rough and uninhabitable spot, cut off from all pleasure and from\nall human society?\u2019 \u2018I pass my time,\u2019 answered the hermit, \u2018in prayers\nand in fastings and in contemplation.\u2019 Then Flamminio inquired, \u2018And for\nwhat reason do you follow this life?\u2019 \u2018Why, my son,\u2019 exclaimed the\nhermit, \u2018I do all this to serve God, to mortify this wretched flesh of\nmine, to do penance for all the offences I have wrought in the sight of\nthe eternal and immortal God and of the true son of Mary, and in the end\nto get salvation for my sinful soul, so that when the hour of my death\nshall come I may render it up pure of all stain, and in the awful day of\njudgment, by the grace of my redeemer and by no merit of my own, may\nmake myself worthy of that happy and glorious home where I may taste the\njoys of eternal life, to which blessedness God lead us!\u2019 Then said\nFlamminio, \u2018Oh, my dear father! spare a few words to tell me\u2014if it be\nnot an offence to you\u2014what manner of thing is this Death, and after what\nfashion is it made?\u2019 The holy father answered, \u2018Oh, my son! trouble not\nyourself to gain knowledge of this thing you seek; for Death is a very\nterrible and a fearful being, and is called by wise men the final end of\nall our sufferings, a misery to the happy, a happiness to the miserable,\nand the term and limit of all worldly things. It severs friend from\nfriend; it separates the father from the son, and the son from the\nfather, the mother from the daughter, and the daughter from the mother.\nIt cuts the marriage bond, and finally disunites the soul and the body,\nso that the body, severed from the soul, loses all its power and becomes\nso putrid and of so evil a savour that all men flee therefrom and\nabandon it as a thing abominable.\u2019 \u2018And have you never set eyes on him,\nmy father?\u2019 asked Flamminio. \u2018Of a certainty I have never seen him,\u2019\nanswered the hermit. \u2018But can you tell me what I should do in order to\nsee him?\u2019 asked Flamminio. \u2018Ah, my son!\u2019 said the hermit, \u2018if you are\nindeed so keenly set on finding him, you have only to keep going further\nand further on; because man, the longer the way he has journeyed through\nthis world, the nearer he is to Death.\u2019 The young man having thanked the\nholy father, and received his benediction, went his way.\n\nThen Flamminio, continuing his journey, traversed a great number of deep\nvalleys and craggy mountains and inhospitable forests, seeing by the way\nmany sorts of fearsome beasts, and questioning each one of these whether\nhe was the thing called Death, and always getting in return the answer\n\u2018No.\u2019 At last, after he had passed through many lands and seen many\nstrange things, he came to a mountain of no little magnitude, and having\nclimbed over this, he began to descend into a gloomy and very deep\nvalley, closed in on all sides by profound caverns. Here he saw a\nstrange and monstrous wild beast, which made all the valley re-echo with\nits roaring. \u2018Who are you?\u2019 said Flamminio. \u2018Ho! is it possible that you\nmay be Death?\u2019 To which the wild beast made answer, \u2018I am not Death; but\npursue your way, and soon you will find him.\u2019\n\nFlamminio, when he heard the answer he had so long desired to hear, felt\nhis heart grow lighter. The wretched youth, now worn out by fatigue and\nhalf dead by reason of the long weariness and the heavy toil he had\nundergone, was almost sunk in despair, when he found himself on the\nborders of a wide and spacious plain. Having climbed to the summit of a\nlittle hill of no great height, delightful, and covered with flowers, he\nlooked round about him, now here, now there, and espied the lofty walls\nof a magnificent city not far from the spot where he stood. Whereupon he\nbegan to walk more rapidly with nimble steps, and when the shadows of\nevening were falling he came to one of the city gates, which was adorned\nwith the finest white marble. And when he had entered therein, with the\nleave of the keeper of the gate, the first person he met was a very old\nwoman, full of years, with a face like that of a corpse, and a body so\nmeagre and thin that, through her leanness, it would have been easy to\ncount one by one every bone in her body. Her forehead was thickly marked\nwith wrinkles, her eyes were squinting, watery, and red, as if they had\nbeen dyed in purple, her cheeks all puckered, her lips turned inside\nout, her hands rough and callous; her head was palsied, and she trembled\nin every limb; she was bent almost double in her gait, and she was clad\nin rough and dusky clothes. Over and above this she bore by her left\nside a keen-edged sword, and carried in her right hand a weighty cudgel,\nat the end of which was wrought a point of iron made in the shape of a\ntriangle, and upon this staff she would now and then lean as if to rest\nherself. On her shoulders also she carried a large wallet, in which she\nkept a great store of phials and pots and bottles all filled with divers\nsorts of liquors and unguents and plasters fitted for the remedying of\nvarious human ailments and accidents. As soon as Flamminio\u2019s eye fell\nupon this toothless ugly old harridan he was seized with the thought\nthat peradventure she might prove to be that Death to find whom he was\ngoing wandering about the world; so having approached her he said, \u2018Ah,\nmy good mother, may God keep and preserve you!\u2019 In a husky voice the old\nwoman made answer to him, \u2018And may God keep and preserve you, my son!\u2019\n\u2018Tell me, my mother,\u2019 Flamminio went on, \u2018whether perchance you may be\nthe thing men call Death?\u2019 The old woman replied, \u2018No, I am not. On the\nother hand, I am Life; and know, moreover, that I happen to have with me\nhere in this wallet which I carry behind my back certain liquors and\nunguents by the working of which I am able with ease to purify and to\ncure the mortal body of man of all the heavy diseases which afflict him,\nand in the short space of a single hour to relieve him in like manner\nfrom the torture of any pain he may feel.\u2019 Then said Flamminio, \u2018Ah, my\ngood mother! can you not let me know where Death is to be found?\u2019 \u2018And\nwho may you be,\u2019 asked the old woman, \u2018who make this demand of me with\nso great persistence?\u2019 Flamminio answered, \u2018I am a youth who has already\nspent many days and months and years wandering about in search of Death,\nand never yet have I been able to find in any land a man who could tell\nme aught concerning him. Wherefore, if you should happen to possess this\nknowledge, I beseech you of your courtesy to let me share it, because I\nam possessed by so keen a desire to look upon him and to know what he is\nlike, in order that I may be certain whether he really is the hideous\nand the dreadful thing which all men hold him to be.\u2019\n\nThe old woman, when she heard the foolish request of the young man,\nspake thus to him: \u2018My son, when would it please you that I let you see\nDeath, and judge how hideous he is, and when would you make trial of his\nterrors?\u2019 To this Flamminio replied: \u2018Ah, my mother! keep me no longer\nin suspense I beg you, but let me see him now, at this present moment.\u2019\nThereupon the old woman, to satisfy his desire, made him strip himself\nquite naked, and, while he was taking off his garments, she worked up\ntogether certain of her drugs useful in the cure of divers diseases, and\nwhen the thing was ready, she said to him: \u2018Bend yourself down here, my\nson.\u2019 And he, in obedience to her direction, bent down. \u2018Now bow your\nhead and close your eyes;\u2019 and Flamminio did as she bade him. Scarcely\nhad the old woman finished her speech than she took the sharp blade\nwhich she wore by her side and with one blow struck off his head from\nhis shoulders. Then she quickly took up the head, and, having replaced\nit upon the bust, she smeared it well with the plaster which she had\nprepared, and thereby the wound was quickly healed. But how the thing\nwhich now happened was caused I cannot say, whether it arose through the\nover-quickness of the old hag in putting back the head upon the\nshoulders, or whether she herself brought it to pass through her own\ncraft. The head when it was joined once more to the body was put on hind\npart forward. Wherefore Flamminio, when he looked down upon his\nshoulders, his loins, and his big buttocks standing out (all of which\nthings he had never seen hitherto), fell into such a fit of terror and\ndismay that, not being able to think of any place where he might be\nsuffered to hide himself, he cried out to the old woman in a trembling\ndolorous voice: \u2018Alas, alas, my good mother! bring me back once more to\nmy old shape; bring me back, for the love of God, for by my faith I have\nnever seen anything more frightful and more hideous than what I now\nbehold. Alas! deliver me from this miserable state in which I now find\nmyself fixed. Alas! alas! do not delay your help, my sweet good mother.\nLend me your aid, for I am sure you can help me easily if you will.\u2019 The\ncunning old woman still kept silence feigning all the while to know\nnothing of the mischance that had been wrought, and letting the wretched\nfellow work himself into an agony and stew in his own fat;[32] but at\nlast, after having kept him in this plight for the space of two hours,\nshe agreed to work the remedy he sought. So, having made him bend\nhimself down as before, she put her hand to her sharp-cutting sword and\nstruck off his head from his shoulders. Then she took the head in her\nhand, and, having placed it upon the trunk and smeared it well with her\nointment, brought Flamminio back to his former condition.\n\nThe youth, when he perceived that he had once more become his old self,\nput on his clothes; and now, having seen what a terrible thing, and by\nhis own experience proved what a hideous and ugly thing Death was, he\nmade his way back to Ostia by the shortest and the quickest way he knew\nwithout saying any more farewell words to the old woman, occupying\nhimself for the future in reaching after Life and flying from Death,\ndevoting himself more diligently to the consideration of those matters\nwhich he had hitherto neglected.\n\nIt now only remained that Lionora should propose her enigma, so she gave\nout the following one in merry wise:\n\n                 About a meadow fair and wide,\n                 Gay decked with flowers on every side,\n                 Three nymphs on task divine intent,\n                 Pass to and fro, and firmly bent\n                 To speed their work, nor night nor day\n                 Take pause, nor rest upon their way.\n                 One in her left the distaff plies,\n                 Between another\u2019s feet swift flies\n                 The spindle, and last one doth stand\n                 With keen-edged weapon in her hand,\n                 And cuts in twain the fragile strand.\n\nThis enigma was very easily understood by all the company, because it\nwas clear that the fine and spacious meadow must be this world in which\nall men dwell. The three nymphs are the three sisters, Clotho, Lachesis,\nand Atropos, who by the fancy of the poets are held to represent the\nbeginning, the middle, and the end of our lives. Clotho, who holds the\nrock, shows forth our birth; Lachesis, who spins it, the season of our\nexistence, and Atropos, who severs the thread just spun by Lachesis,\ninevitable Death.\n\nAlready the watchful cock, bird sacred to Mercury, had given signal by\nhis crowing of the approaching dawn, when the Signora brought to an end\nthe story-telling for the night, and all the guests departed to their\nown homes, pledged, however, to return on the following evening under\nwhatever penalty the Signora might deem fitting to inflict.\n\n\n                     =The End of the Fourth Night.=\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                           =Night the Fifth.=\n\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n   =The Fables and Enigmas of Messer Giovanni Francesco Straparola da\n                              Caravaggio.=\n\n\n\n\n                           =Night the Fifth.=\n\n\nThe sun, the glory of the smiling firmament, the measurer of our\nfleeting time, and the true eye of the universe, from whom likewise the\nhorned moon and all the stars receive their radiance, had at last hidden\nhis red and burning rays beneath the waters of the sea, and the chaste\ndaughter of Latona, circled around by bright and beaming stars, was\nalready lighting up the clustering shadows of the obscure night, and the\nshepherds, quitting the wide and open fields and the fresh herbage and\nthe cool and limpid streams, had taken their way back with their flocks\nto their wonted folds, and, worn out and weary as they were, had sunk\ninto deep slumber on the beds of soft and yielding rushes, when the fair\nand noble troop of companions, letting go thought of everything else,\nhastened to the place of meeting. And when it had been signified to the\nSignora that all had come, and that it was now time to recommence the\nstory-telling, she, escorted in courteous and reverent wise by the other\nladies, went joyful and smiling with soft and measured step to the hall\nof meeting. Then having graciously greeted the company of friends with\ngladsome face, she ordered them to bring out the vase of gold. In this\nwere put the names of five ladies, and of these the first to come out\nwas that of Eritrea, the second that of Alteria, the third that of\nLauretta, the fourth that of Arianna, and the last that of Cateruzza.\nWhen this was done they all began to dance to the music of the flutes,\nand to pass from one to another pleasant and loving words. Immediately\nafter the end of the dance, three damsels, by the leave of the Signora,\nbegan the following song.\n\n                               SONG.\n             Madonna, when the springs of passion rise,\n             And through thy fair sweet bosom surge and swell;\n                 And in those lucent sacred eyes,\n         Which tell me I may live, and eke my death may tell;\n                 From those gracious looks and kind,\n                 A gracious hope my longings find.\n                 Now calm, and now spurred on by rage,\n                 With hope and fear a fight I wage;\n                 Eftsoons my hope the vantage gains,\n                 And I am rid of all my pains,\n                 And know no stroke of fate can lure,\n                 Or drive me from my course secure.\n                 Wherefore I bless the passing days;\n                 Great nature, and the stars I praise,\n                 That thy fair self my passion fired,\n                 Thy service sweet my song inspired.\n\nAs soon as the three damsels had brought to an end their amorous\ncanzonet, which seemed to break up the air around into sighs of passion,\nthe Signora made a sign to Eritrea, who had been chosen for the first\nplace this evening, that she should make a beginning of her\nstory-telling. The damsel, seeing that she could in no wise excuse\nherself, put aside all bashfulness, and began to speak in turn that the\norder which had hitherto prevailed might not be disturbed.\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                            THE FIRST FABLE.\n\n  =Guerrino, only son of Filippomaria, King of Sicily, sets free from\n      his father\u2019s prison a certain savage man. His mother, through fear\n      of the king, drives her son into exile, and him the savage man,\n      now humanized, delivers from many and measureless ills.=\n\n\nI have heard by report, and likewise gathered from my own experience,\nmost gracious and pleasure-loving ladies, that a kindly service done to\nanother (although at the time the one served may seem in no sense\ngrateful for the boon conferred) will more often than not come back to\nthe doer thereof with abundant usury of benefit. Which thing happened to\nthe son of a king who, having liberated from one of his father\u2019s prisons\na wild man of the woods, was more than once rescued from a violent death\nby the captive he had freed. This you will easily understand from the\nfable which I intend to relate to you, and for the love I bear to all of\nyou I will exhort you never to be backward in aiding others; because,\neven though you be not repaid by those in whose behalf you have wrought,\nGod Himself, the rewarder of all, will assuredly never leave your good\ndeed unrecompensed; nay, on the contrary, He will make you partakers\nwith Him of His divine grace.\n\nSicily, my dear ladies (as must be well known to all of you), is an\nisland very fertile and complete in itself, and in antiquity surpassing\nall the others of which we have knowledge, abounding in towns and\nvillages which render it still more beautiful. In past times the lord of\nthis island was a certain king named Filippomaria, a man wise and\namiable and of rare virtue, who had to wife a courteous, winsome, and\nlovely lady, the mother of his only son, who was called Guerrino. The\nking took greater delight in following the chase than any other man in\nthe country, and, for the reason that he was of a strong and robust\nhabit of body, this diversion was well suited to him.\n\nNow it happened one day that, as he was coming back from hunting in\ncompany with divers of his barons and huntsmen, he saw, coming out of a\nthick wood, a wild man, tall and big and so deformed and ugly that they\nall looked upon him with amazement. In strength of body he seemed no\nwhit inferior to any of them; wherefore the king, having put himself in\nfighting trim, together with two of the most valiant of his barons,\nattacked him boldly, and after a long and doughty struggle overcame him\nand took him a prisoner with his own hands. Then, having bound him, they\nconveyed him back to the palace, and selected for him a safe lodging,\nfitted for the purpose, into which they cast him, and there under strong\nlocks he was kept by the king\u2019s command closely confined and guarded.\nAnd seeing that the king set high store upon his captive, he ordained\nthat the keys of the prison should be held in charge by the queen, and\nnever a day passed when he would not for pastime go to visit him.\n\nBefore many days had gone by the king once more put himself in array for\nthe chase, and, having furnished himself with all the various things\nwhich are necessary thereto, he set forth with a gallant company of\ncourtiers, but before he left he gave into the queen\u2019s care the keys of\nthe prison. And during the time that the king was absent on his hunting\na great longing came over Guerrino, who was at that season a young lad,\nto see the wild man of the woods; so having betaken himself all alone,\ncarrying his bow, in which he delighted greatly, to the prison grating,\nthe creature saw him and straightway began to converse with him in\ndecent orderly fashion. And while they talked thus, the wild man, who\nwas caressing the boy, dexterously snatched out of his hand the arrow,\nwhich was richly ornamented. Whereupon the boy began to weep, and could\nnot keep back his tears, crying out that the savage ought to give him\nback his arrow. But the wild man said to him: \u2018If you will open the door\nand let me go free from this prison I will give you back your arrow, but\nif you refuse I will not let you have it.\u2019 The boy answered, \u2018How would\nyou that I should open the door for you and set you free, seeing that I\nhave not the means therefor.\u2019 Then said the wild man, \u2018If indeed you\nwere in the mood to release me and to let me out of this narrow cell, I\nwould soon teach you the way in which it might be done.\u2019 \u2018But how?\u2019\nreplied Guerrino; \u2018tell me the way.\u2019 To which the wild man made answer:\n\u2018Go to the chamber of the queen your mother, and when you see that she\nis taking her midday sleep, put your hand softly under the pillow upon\nwhich she is resting, and take therefrom the keys of the prison in such\nwise that she shall not notice the theft, and bring them here and open\nmy prison door. When you shall have done this I will give you back your\narrow forthwith, and peradventure at some future time I may be able to\nmake you a return for your kindness.\u2019\n\nGuerrino, wishing beyond everything to get back his gilded dart, did\neverything that the wild man had told him, and found the keys exactly as\nhe had said, and with these in his hand he returned to the prison, and\nsaid to him: \u2018Behold! here are the keys; but if I let you out of this\nplace you must go so far from hence that not even the scent of you may\nbe known, for if my father, who is a great huntsman, should find you and\ncapture you again, he would of a surety kill you out of hand.\u2019 \u2018Let not\nthat trouble you, my child,\u2019 said the captive, \u2018for as soon as ever you\nshall open the prison and see me a free man, I will give you back your\narrow and will get me away into such distant parts that neither your\nfather nor any other man shall ever find me.\u2019 Guerrino, who had all the\nstrength of a man, worked away at the door, and finally threw open the\nprison, when the wild man, having given back to him his arrow and\nthanked him heartily, went his way.\n\nNow this wild man had been formerly a very handsome youth, who, through\ndespair at his inability to win the favour of the lady he ardently\nloved, let go all dreams of love and urbane pursuits, and took up his\ndwelling amongst beasts of the forest, abiding always in the gloomy\nwoods and bosky thickets, eating grass and drinking water after the\nfashion of a brute. On this account the wretched man had become covered\nwith a great fell of hair; his skin was hard, his beard thick and\ntangled and very long, and, through eating herbs and grass, his beard,\nhis hairy covering, and the hair of his head had become so green that\nthey were quite monstrous to behold.\n\nAs soon as ever the queen awoke from her slumbers she thrust her hand\nunder her pillow to seek for the keys she had put there, and, when she\nfound they were gone, she was terrified amain, and having turned the bed\nupside down without meeting with any trace of them, she ran straightway\nlike one bereft of wit to the prison, which was standing open. When on\nsearching further she found no sign of the wild man, she was so sore\nstricken with grief and fear that she was like to die, and, having\nreturned to the palace, she made diligent search in every corner\nthereof, questioning the while now this courtier and now that as to who\nthe presumptuous and insolent varlet was who had been brazen enough to\nlay hands upon the keys of the prison without her knowledge. To this\nquestioning they one and all declared that they knew nought of the\nmatter which thus disturbed her. And when Guerrino met his mother, and\nremarked that she was almost beside herself in a fit of passion, he said\nto her: \u2018Mother, see that you cast no blame on any of these in respect\nto the opening of the prison door, because if punishment is due to any\nthereanent it is due to me, for I, and I alone, unlocked it.\u2019 The queen,\nwhen she heard these words, was plunged in deeper sorrow than ever,\nfearing lest the king, when he should come back from his hunting, might\nkill his son through sheer anger at the fault he had committed, seeing\nthat he had given into her charge the keys, to guard them as preciously\nas her own person. Wherefore the queen in her desire to escape the\nconsequences of a venial mistake fell into another error far more\nweighty, for without the shortest delay she summoned two of her most\ntrusty servants, and her son as well, and, having given to them a great\nquantity of jewels and much money and divers fine horses, sent him forth\nto seek his fortune, at the same time begging the servants most\nearnestly to take the greatest care of Guerrino.\n\nA very short time after the son had departed from the presence of his\nmother, the king came back to the palace from following the chase, and\nas soon as he had alighted from his horse he betook himself straightway\nto the prison to go and see the wild man, and when he found the door\nwide open and the captive gone, and no trace of him left behind, he was\nforthwith inflamed with such violent anger that he determined in his\nmind to cause to be slain without fail the person who had wrought such a\nflagrant misdeed. And, having sought out the queen, who was sitting\novercome with grief in her chamber, he commanded her to tell him what\nmight be the name of the impudent, rash, and presumptuous varlet who had\nbeen bold enough of heart to open the doors of the prison and thereby\ngive opportunity to the wild man of the woods to make his escape.\nWhereupon the queen, in a meek and trembling voice, made answer to him:\n\u2018O sire! be not troubled on account of this thing, for Guerrino our son\n(as he himself has made confession to me) admits that he has done this.\u2019\nAnd then she told to the king everything that Guerrino had said to her,\nand he, when he heard her story, was greatly incensed with rage. Next\nshe told him that, on account of the fear she felt lest he should slay\nhis son, she had sent the youth away into a far distant country,\naccompanied by two of their most faithful servants, and carrying with\nhim rich store of jewels and of money sufficient to serve their needs.\nThe king, when he listened to this speech of the queen, felt one sorrow\nheaping itself upon another, and he came within an ace of falling to the\nground or of losing his wits, and, if it had not been for the courtiers\nwho fell upon him and held him back, he would assuredly have slain his\nunhappy queen on the spot.\n\nNow when the poor king had in some measure recovered his composure and\ncalmed the fit of unbridled rage which had possessed him, he said to the\nqueen: \u2018Alas, my wife! what fancy was this of yours which induced you to\nsend away into some unknown land our son, the fruit of our mutual love?\nIs it possible that you imagined I should hold this wild man of greater\nvalue than one who was my own flesh and blood?\u2019 And without awaiting any\nreply to these remarks of his, he bade a great troop of soldiers mount\ntheir horses forthwith, and, after having divided themselves into four\ncompanies, to make a close search and endeavour to find the prince. But\nall their inquest was in vain, seeing that Guerrino and his attendants\nhad made their journey secretly, and had let no one know who they might\nbe.\n\nGuerrino, after he had ridden far and traversed divers valleys and\nmountains and rivers, making a halt now in one spot and now in another,\nattained at last his sixteenth year, and so fair a youth was he by this\ntime that he resembled nothing so much as a fresh morning rose. But\nafter a short time had passed, the servants who accompanied him were\nseized with the devilish thought of killing him, and then taking the\nstore of jewels and money and parting it amongst themselves. This wicked\nplot, however, came to nought, because by the working of divine justice\nthey were not able to agree amongst themselves. For by good fortune it\nhappened that, one day while they were devising this wickedness, there\nrode by a very fair and graceful youth, mounted upon a superb steed, and\naccoutred with the utmost magnificence. This youth bowed and graciously\nsaluted Guerrino, and thus addressed him: \u2018Most gracious sir, if it\nshould not prove distasteful to you, I would fain make my journey in\nyour company.\u2019 And to this Guerrino replied: \u2018Your courtesy in making\nyour request will not permit me to refuse it and the pleasure of your\ncompany. Therefore I give you cordial thanks, and I beg you as a special\nfavour that you will accompany us on our road. We are strangers in this\ncountry and know but little of its highways, and you may be able of your\nkindness to direct our paths therein. Moreover, as we ride on together\nwe can discuss the various chances which have befallen us, and thus our\njourney will be less irksome.\u2019\n\nNow this young man was no other than the wild man whom Guerrino had set\nfree from the prison of King Filippomaria his father. This youth, after\nwandering through various countries and strange lands, met one day by\nchance a very lovely and benignant fairy, who was at that time suffering\nfrom a certain distemper. She, when she looked upon him and saw how\nmisshapen and hideous he was, laughed so violently at the sight of his\nugliness that she caused to burst an imposthume which had formed in the\nvicinity of her heart\u2014an ailment which might well have caused her death\nby suffocation. And at that very moment she was delivered from all pain\nand trouble of this infirmity, as if she had never been afflicted\ntherewith in the past, and restored to health. Wherefore the good fairy,\nin recompense for so great a favour done to her, said to him, not\nwishing to appear ungrateful to him: \u2018O thou creature, who art now so\ndeformed and filthy, since thou hast been the means of restoring to me\nmy health which I so greatly desired, go thy ways, and be thou changed\nfrom what thou art into the fairest, the wisest, and the most graceful\nyouth that may anywhere be found. And, besides this, I make you the\nsharer with me of all the power and authority conferred upon me by\nnature, whereby you will be able to do and to undo whatsoever you will\naccording to your desire.\u2019 And having presented to him a noble horse\nendowed with magic powers, she gave him leave to go whithersoever he\nwould.\n\nThus as Guerrino journeyed along with the young man, knowing nothing as\nto who he might be, but well known of him the while, they came at last\nto a mighty and strong city called Irlanda, over which at that time\nruled King Zifroi. This King Zifroi was the father of two daughters,\ngraceful to look upon, of modest manners, and in beauty surpassing Venus\nherself, one of them named Potentiana and the other Eleuteria. They were\nheld so dear by the king their father that he could see by no other eyes\nthan theirs. As soon as Guerrino entered the city of Irlanda with the\nunknown youth and with his train of servants, he hired a lodging of a\ncertain householder who was the wittiest fellow in the whole of Irlanda,\nand who treated his guests with cheer of the best. And on the day\nfollowing, the unknown youth made believe that he must needs depart and\ntravel into another country, and went to take leave of Guerrino,\nthanking him in hearty wise for the boon of his company and good usage,\nbut Guerrino, who had conceived the strongest love and friendship for\nhim, would on no account let him go, and showed him such strong evidence\nof his good feeling that in the end the young man agreed to tarry with\nhim.\n\nIn the country round about Irlanda there lived at this time two very\nfearful and savage animals, one of which was a wild horse, and the other\na mare of like nature, and so ferocious and cruel were these beasts that\nthey not only ravaged and devastated all the fair cultivated fields, but\nlikewise killed all the animals and the men and women dwelling therein.\nAnd through the ruin wrought by these beasts the country had come to\nsuch piteous condition that no one was found willing to abide there, so\nthat the peasants abandoned their farms and the homes which were dear to\nthem and betook themselves to find dwelling-places in another land. And\nthere was nowhere to be found any man strong and bold enough to face\nthem, much less to fight with them and slay them. Wherefore the king,\nseeing that the whole country was being made desolate of all victuals,\nand of cattle, and of human creatures, and not knowing how to devise any\nremedy for this wretched pass, gave way to dolorous lamentations, and\ncursed the hard and evil fortune which had befallen him. The two\nservants of Guerrino, who during the journey had not been able to carry\nout their wicked intent through want of concord between themselves, and\non account of the arrival of the unknown youth, now deliberated how they\nmight compass Guerrino\u2019s death and remain possessors of the money and\njewels, and said one to the other: \u2018Let us now see and take counsel\ntogether how we may easiest take the life of our master.\u2019 But not being\nable to find any means thereto which seemed fitting, seeing that they\nwould stand in peril of losing their own lives by the law if they should\nkill him, they decided to speak privily with their host and to tell him\nthat Guerrino was a youth of great prowess and valour; furthermore, that\nhe had often boasted in their presence that he would be ready to slay\nthis wild horse without incurring any danger to himself. Thus they\nreasoned with themselves: \u2018Now this saying may easily come to the ears\nof the king, who, being so keenly set on the destruction of these two\nanimals and on safeguarding the welfare of his country, will straightway\ncommand them to bring Guerrino before him, and will then inquire of the\nyouth in what manner he means to accomplish this feat. Then Guerrino,\nknowing nothing what to say or to do, will at once be put to death by\nthe king, and we shall remain sole masters of the jewels and the money.\u2019\nAnd they forthwith set to work to put this wicked plan of theirs into\naction.\n\nThe host, when he listened to this speech, rejoiced amain, and was as\nglad as any man in all the world, and without losing a moment of time he\nran swiftly to the palace, and having knelt down before the king and\nmade due reverence, he said to him secretly, \u2018Gracious king, I have come\nto tell you that there is at present sojourning in my hostel a fair and\ngallant knight errant, who is called by name Guerrino. Now whilst I was\nconfabulating about divers matters with his servants they told me,\namongst other things, how their master was a man of great prowess and\nwell skilled in the use and practice of arms, and that in this our time\none might search in vain to find another who could be compared with him.\nMoreover, they had many and many a time heard him boast that of his\nstrength and valour he could without difficulty overcome and slay the\nwild horse which is working such dire loss and damage to your kingdom.\u2019\n\nWhen King Zifroi heard these words he immediately gave command that\nGuerrino should be brought before him. Whereupon the innkeeper, obedient\nto the word of the king, returned at once to his inn and said to\nGuerrino that he was to betake himself alone into the presence of the\nking, who greatly desired to speak with him. When Guerrino heard this he\nwent straightway to the palace and presented himself to the king, and\nafter saluting him with becoming reverence begged to be told for what\nreason he had been honoured with the royal commands. To this Zifroi the\nking made answer: \u2018Guerrino, the reason which has induced me to send for\nyou is that I have heard you are a knight of great valour, and one\nexcelling all the other knights now alive in the world. They tell me,\ntoo, that you have many and many a time declared that you are strong and\nvalorous enough to overcome and slay the wild horse which is working\nsuch cruel ruin and devastation to this my kingdom, without risk of hurt\nto yourself or to others. If you can pluck up courage enough to make\ntrial of an emprise so full of honour as this, and prove yourself a\nconqueror, I promise you by this head of mine to bestow upon you a gift\nwhich will make you a happy man for the rest of your days.\u2019\n\nGuerrino, when he heard this proposition of the king, so grave and\nweighty, was mightily amazed, and at once denied that he had ever spoken\nsuch words as had been attributed to him. The king, who was greatly\ndisconcerted at this answer of Guerrino, thus addressed him: \u2018Guerrino,\nit is my will that you should without delay undertake this task, and be\nsure if you refuse and fail to comply with my wishes I will take away\nyour life.\u2019 The king, having thus spoken, dismissed from his presence\nGuerrino, who returned to his inn overwhelmed with deep sorrow, which he\ndid not dare to disclose to anyone. Whereupon the unknown youth, marking\nthat Guerrino, contrary to his wont, was plunged in melancholy, inquired\nthe reason why he was so sad and full of grief. Then Guerrino, on\naccount of the brotherly love subsisting between them, and finding\nhimself unable to refuse this just and kindly request, told him word for\nword everything that had happened to him. As soon as the unknown youth\nheard this, he said, \u2018Be of good cheer, and put aside all doubts and\nfears, for I will point out to you a way by which you will save your\nlife, and be a conqueror in your enterprise, and fulfil the wishes of\nthe king. Return, therefore, to the king, and beg of him to grant you\nthe services of a skilful blacksmith. Then order this smith to make for\nyou four horseshoes, which must be thicker and broader by the breadth of\ntwo fingers than the ordinary measure of horseshoes, well roughed, and\neach one to be fitted behind with two spikes of a finger\u2019s length and\nsharpened to a point. And when these shoes are prepared, you must have\nmy horse, which is enchanted, shod therewith, and then you need have no\nfurther fear of anything.\u2019\n\nGuerrino, after he had heard these words, returned to the presence of\nthe king, and told him everything as the young man had directed him. The\nking then caused to be brought before him a well-skilled marshal smith,\nto whom he gave orders that he should carry out whatever work Guerrino\nmight require of him. When they had gone to the smith\u2019s forge, Guerrino\ninstructed him how to make the four horseshoes according to the words of\nthe young stranger, but when the smith understood in what fashion he was\nrequired to make these shoes, he mocked at Guerrino, and treated him\nlike a madman, for this way of making shoes was quite strange and\nunknown to him. When Guerrino saw that the marshal smith was inclined to\nmock him, and unwilling to serve him as he had been ordered, he went\nonce more to the king, and complained that the smith would not carry out\nhis directions. Wherefore the king bade them bring the marshal before\nhim, and gave him express command that, under pain of his highest\ndispleasure, he should at once carry out the duties which had been\nimposed upon him, or, failing this, he himself should forthwith make\nready to carry out the perilous task which had been assigned to\nGuerrino. The smith, thus hard pressed by the orders of the king, made\nthe horseshoes in the way described by Guerrino, and shod the horse\ntherewith.\n\nWhen the horse was thus shod and well-accoutred with everything that was\nnecessary for the enterprise, the young stranger addressed Guerrino in\nthese words: \u2018Now mount quickly this my horse, and go in peace, and as\nsoon as you shall hear the neighing of the wild horse dismount at once,\nand, having taken off from him his saddle and his bridle, let him range\nat will. You yourself climb up into a high tree, and there await the\nissue of the enterprise.\u2019 Guerrino, having been fully instructed by his\ndear companion in all that he ought to do, took his leave, and departed\nwith a light heart.\n\nAlready the glorious news had been spread abroad through all the parts\nof Irlanda how a valiant and handsome young knight had undertaken to\nsubjugate and capture the wild horse and to present him to the king, and\nfor this reason everyone in the city, men and women alike, all flew to\ntheir windows to see him go by on his perilous errand. When they marked\nhow handsome and young and gallant he was, their hearts were moved to\npity on his account, and they said one to another, \u2018Ah, the poor youth!\nwith what a willing spirit he goes to his death. Of a surety it is a\npiteous thing that so valiant a youth should thus wretchedly perish.\u2019\nAnd they could none of them keep back their tears on account of the\ncompassion they felt.\n\nBut Guerrino, full of manly boldness, went on his way blithely, and when\nhe had come to the spot where the wild horse was wont to abide, and\nheard the sound of his neigh, he got down from his own horse, and having\ntaken the saddle and bridle therefrom he let him go free, and himself\nclimbed up into the branches of a great oak, and there awaited the\nfierce and bloody contest.\n\nScarcely had Guerrino climbed up into the tree when the wild horse\nappeared and forthwith attacked the fairy horse, and then the two beasts\nengaged in the fiercest struggle that the world had ever seen, for they\nrushed at one another as if they had been two unchained lions, and they\nfoamed at the mouth as if they had been bristly wildboars pursued by\nsavage and eager hounds. Then, after they had fought for some time with\nthe greatest fury, the fairy horse dealt the wild horse two kicks full\non the jaw, which was put out of joint thereby; wherefore the wild horse\nwas at once disabled, and could no longer either fight or defend\nhimself. When Guerrino saw this he rejoiced greatly, and having come\ndown from the oak, he took a halter which he had brought with him and\nsecured the wild horse therewith, and led him with his dislocated jaw\nback to the city, where he was welcomed by all the people with the\ngreatest joy. According to his promise he presented the horse to the\nking, who, together with all the inhabitants of the city, held high\nfestival, and rejoiced amain over the gallant deed wrought by Guerrino.\n\nBut the servants of Guerrino were greatly overcome with grief and\nconfusion, inasmuch as their evil designs had miscarried; wherefore,\ninflamed with rage and hatred, they once more let it come to the hearing\nof King Zifroi that Guerrino had vaunted that he could with the greatest\nease kill the wild mare also whenever it might please him. When the king\nheard this he laid exactly the same commands on Guerrino as he had done\nin the matter of the horse, and because the youth refused to undertake\nthis task, which appeared to him impossible, the king threatened to have\nhim hung up by one foot as a rebel against his crown. After Guerrino had\nreturned to his inn, he told everything to his unknown companion, who\nsmilingly said: \u2018My good brother, fret not yourself because of this, but\ngo and find the marshal smith, and command him to make for you four more\nhorseshoes, as big again as the last, and see that they are duly\nfurnished with good sharp spikes. Then you must follow exactly the same\ncourse as you took with the horse, and you will return here covered with\ngreater honour than ever.\u2019 When therefore he had commanded to be made\nthe sharply-spiked horseshoes, and had caused the valiant fairy horse to\nbe shod therewith, he set forth on his gallant enterprise.\n\nAs soon as Guerrino had come to the spot where the wild mare was wont to\ngraze, and heard her neighing, he did everything exactly in the same\nmanner as before, and when he had set free the fairy horse, the mare\ncame towards it and attacked it with such fierce and terrible biting\nthat it could with difficulty defend itself against such an attack. But\nit bore the assault valiantly, and at last succeeded in planting so\nsharp and dexterous a kick on the mare that she was lamed in her right\nleg, whereupon Guerrino came down from the high tree into which he had\nclimbed, and having captured her, bound her securely. Then he mounted\nhis own horse and rode back to the palace, where he presented the wild\nmare to the king, amidst the rejoicings and acclamations of all the\npeople. And everyone, attracted by wonderment and curiosity, ran to see\nthis wild beast, which, on account of the grave injuries she had\nreceived in the fight, soon died. And by these means the country was\nfreed from the great plague which had for so long a time vexed it.\n\nNow when Guerrino had returned to his hostel, and had betaken himself to\nrepose somewhat on account of the weariness which had come over him, he\nfound that he was unable to get any sleep by reason of a strange noise\nwhich he heard somewhere in the chamber. Wherefore, having risen from\nhis couch, he perceived that there was something, I know not what,\nbeating about inside a pot of honey, and not able to get out. So\nGuerrino opened the honey-pot, and saw within a large hornet, which was\nstruggling with its wings without being able to free itself from the\nhoney around it. Moved by pity, he took hold of the insect and let it go\nfree.\n\nNow Zifroi the king had as yet given to Guerrino no reward for the two\nvaliant deeds which he had wrought, but he was conscious in his heart\nthat he would be acting in a very base fashion were he to leave such\ngreat valour without a rich guerdon, so he caused Guerrino to be called\ninto his presence, and thus addressed him: \u2018Guerrino, by your noble\ndeeds the whole of my kingdom is now free from the scourge, therefore I\nintend to reward you for the great benefits you have wrought in our\nbehalf; but as I can conceive of no other gift which would be worthy and\nsufficient for your merits, I have determined to give you one of my two\ndaughters to wife. But you must know that of these two sisters one is\ncalled Potentiana, and she has hair braided in such marvellous wise that\nit shines like golden coils. The other is called Eleuteria, and her\ntresses are of such texture that they flash brightly like the finest\nsilver. Now if you can guess\u2014the maidens being closely veiled the\nwhile\u2014which is she of the golden tresses, I will give her to you as your\nwife, together with a mighty dowry of money; but if you fail in this, I\nwill have your head struck off your shoulders.\u2019\n\nGuerrino, when he heard this cruel ordeal which was proposed by Zifroi\nthe king, was mightily amazed, and turning to him spake thus: \u2018O\ngracious sovereign! Is this a worthy guerdon for all the perils and\nfatigues I have undergone? Is this a reward for the strength I have\nspent on your behalf? Is this the gratitude you give me for having\ndelivered your country from the scourge by which it was of late laid\ndesolate? Alas! I did not merit this return, which of a truth is not a\ndeed worthy of such a mighty king as yourself. But since this is your\npleasure and I am helpless in your hands, you must do with me what\npleases you best.\u2019 \u2018Now go,\u2019 said Zifroi, \u2018and tarry no longer in my\npresence. I give you till to-morrow to come to a decision.\u2019\n\nWhen Guerrino went out of the king\u2019s presence full of sadness, he sought\nhis dear companion, and repeated to him everything that the king had\nsaid. The unknown youth when he heard this seemed but little troubled\nthereanent, and said: \u2018Guerrino, be of good cheer, and do not despair,\nfor I will deliver you from this great danger. Remember how a few days\nago you set free the hornet which you found with its wings entangled in\nthe honey. Now this same hornet will be the means of saving you, for\nto-morrow, after the dinner at the palace, when you are put to the test,\nit will fly three times buzzing and humming round the head of her with\nthe golden hair, and she with her white hands will drive it away. And\nyou, when you shall have marked her do this action three times, may know\nfor certain that this is she who is to be your wife.\u2019 \u2018Ah me!\u2019 cried\nGuerrino to his companion, \u2018when will the time come when I shall be able\nto make you some repayment for all the kind offices you have done me?\nCertes, were I to live for a thousand years, I should never have it in\nmy power to recompense you the very smallest portion thereof. But that\none, who is the rewarder of all, will in this matter make up for me in\nthat respect in which I am wanting.\u2019 To this speech of Guerrino his\ncompanion made answer: \u2018Guerrino, my brother, there is in sooth no need\nfor you to trouble yourself about making any return to me for the\nservices I may have wrought you, but assuredly it is now full time that\nI should reveal to you, and that you should know clearly who I am. For\nin the same fashion as you delivered me from death, I on my part have\ndesired to render to you the recompense you deserve so highly at my\nhands. Know, then, that I am the wild man of the woods whom you, with\nsuch loving compassion, set free from the prison-house of the king your\nfather, and that I am called by name Rubinetto.\u2019 And then he went on to\ntell Guerrino by what means the fairy had brought him back into his\nformer state of a fair young man. Guerrino, when he heard these words,\nstood like one bemused, and out of the great tenderness and pity he had\nin his heart he embraced Rubinetto, weeping the while, and kissed him,\nand claimed him as his own brother.\n\nAnd forasmuch as the day was now approaching for Guerrino to solve the\nquestion to be set to him by King Zifroi, the two repaired to the\npalace, whereupon the king gave order that his two beloved daughters,\nPotentiana and Eleuteria, should be brought into the presence of\nGuerrino covered from head to foot with white veils, and this was\nstraightway done. When the two daughters had come in so much alike in\nseeming that it was impossible to tell the one from the other, the king\nsaid: \u2018Now which of these two, Guerrino, do you will that I should give\nyou to wife?\u2019 But Guerrino stood still in a state of doubt and\nhesitation, and answered nothing, but the king, who was mightily curious\nto see how the matter would end, pressed him amain to speak, crying out\nthat time was flying, and that it behoved him to give his answer at\nonce. To this Guerrino made answer: \u2018Most sacred majesty, time forsooth\nmay be flying, but the end is not yet come to this day, which is the\nlimit you have given me for my decision.\u2019 And all those standing by\naffirmed that Guerrino only claimed his right.\n\nWhen, therefore, the king and Guerrino and all the others had stood for\na long time in expectation, behold! there suddenly appeared a hornet,\nwhich at once began to fly and buzz round the head and the fair face of\nPotentiana of the golden hair. And she, as if she were afeared of the\nthing, raised her hand to drive it away, and when she had done this\nthree times the hornet flew away out of sight. But even after this sign\nGuerrino remained uncertain for a short time, although he had full faith\nin the words of Rubinetto, his well-beloved companion. Then said the\nking, \u2018How now, Guerrino, what do you say? The time has now come when\nyou must put an end to this delay, and make up your mind.\u2019 And Guerrino,\nhaving looked well first at one and then at the other of the maidens,\nput his hand on the head of Potentiana, who had been pointed out to him\nby the hornet, and said, \u2018Gracious king, this one is your daughter of\nthe golden tresses.\u2019 And when the maiden had raised her veil it was\nclearly proved that it was indeed she, greatly to the joy of all those\nwho were present, and to the satisfaction of the people of the city. And\nZifroi the king gave her to Guerrino as his wife, and they did not\ndepart thence until Rubinetto had wedded the other sister. After this\nGuerrino declared himself to be the son of Filippomaria, King of Sicily,\nhearing which Zifroi was greatly rejoiced, and caused the marriages to\nbe celebrated with the greatest pomp and magnificence.\n\n[Illustration: Golden Hair]\n\nWhen this news came to the father and the mother of Guerrino they felt\nthe greatest joy and contentment, seeing that they had by this time\ngiven up their son as lost. When he returned to Sicily with his dear\nwife and his well-loved brother and sister-in-law, they all received a\ngracious and loving welcome from his father and mother, and they lived a\nlong time in peace and happiness, and he left behind him fair children\nas the heirs to his kingdom.\n\nThis touching story told by Eritrea won the highest praise of all the\nhearers, and she, when she saw that all were silent, proposed her enigma\nin the following words:\n\n                 A cruel beast of nature dread\n                 From out a tiny germ is bred.\n                 In hate all beings else it holds,\n                 And each one trembles who beholds\n                 Its form of fear. Death all around\n                 It spreads, and oft itself is found\n                 The victim of its fatal rage,\n                 And war on all the world will wage.\n                 Beneath its breath the trees decay,\n                 The living plants will fade away.\n                 A beast more cruel, fierce, and fell,\n                 Ne\u2019er rose from out the pit of hell.\n\nWhen the enigma set to the worshipful company by the clever damsel had\nbeen considered and highly praised by everyone, some found one solution\ntherefor and some another, but not one of them gave the one which\nrightly explained its meaning. Wherefore Eritrea, seeing that her riddle\nhad not been understood, said, \u201cIt seems to me that the cruel animal I\nhave described cannot be anything else than the basilisk, which hates\nall other living beasts in the world, and slays them with its sharp and\npiercing glances. And if peradventure it should chance to see its own\nform mirrored anywhere, it straightway dies.\u201d When Eritrea had come to\nthe end of the interpretation of her enigma, the Signor Evangelist,[33]\nwho sat by her side, said to her smiling: \u201cOf a truth you yourself are\nthis basilisk, signora, for with your beautiful eyes you bring soft\ndeath to all those who gaze upon you.\u201d But Eritrea, with her cheeks\nsuffused with the lovely tint of nature, answered nought. Alteria sat\nnear by, and, as soon as she perceived that the enigma was now\ncompleted, having been highly praised by all, she called to mind that it\nwas now her turn to tell a story according to the Signora\u2019s pleasure, so\nshe began in the following wise a fable which proved in the end to be\nfully as mirthful as it was commendable.\n\n\n\n\n                           THE SECOND FABLE.\n\n\n  =Adamantina, the daughter of Bagolana Savonese, by working of a\n      certain doll becomes the wife of Drusiano, King of Bohemia.=\n\nSo powerful, so commanding, so subtle is the wit of man that without\ndoubt it may be held to overtop and to exceed every other human force to\nbe found in the world; wherefore it has been said, not without just\ncause, that the wise man is the governor of the stars. This saying\nrecalls to my memory a fable, by the telling of which I hope to make\nquite clear to you how a young girl, of mean estate and very poor, was\nsuccoured by fortune, and in the end became the wife of a mighty king.\nAlthough my fable will be very short, it may, if I mistake not, be found\nto be none the less pleasing and diverting on that account. I beg you\ntherefore to lend me your ears attentively, and listen to me, as\nhitherto you have listened to our very worthy associates, who, of a\nsurety, have merited from you praise rather than blame.\n\nIn the country of Bohemia, dear ladies, there lived not a long time ago\na little old woman known by the name of Bagolana Savonese, miserably\npoor in her way of life, and the mother of two daughters, one of whom\nwas called Cassandra and the other Adamantina. Now this woman, though\nshe had scarce anything to call her own, was anxious to set her affairs\nin order, so that she might die in peace, and as the whole of the wealth\nthat she had to dispose of in her house and out of it consisted of a\nsmall coffer filled with tow, she made her will and gave this coffer and\nwhat it contained to her two daughters, begging them at the same time to\nlive peacefully together after she should be dead.\n\nThese two sisters, though they were very poor in any of the endowments\nof fortune, were by no means wanting in mental gifts, so that in all\nvirtues and in righteous behaviour they were no whit inferior to other\nwomen. After the old woman was dead and her body had been buried,\nCassandra, who was the elder sister of the two, took a pound of the tow\nand sat down and began to spin the same with great care, and, as soon as\nshe had spun it, she gave the thread she had made to Adamantina, her\nyounger sister, bidding her to take it out into the piazza and to sell\nit, and with the proceeds of the sale to purchase some bread wherewith\nthey might keep themselves alive. Thereupon Adamantina took the thread,\nand, having put it under her arm, she went her way into the piazza to\nsell her wares, according to the commandment of her sister Cassandra;\nbut, as chance would have it, what she did ran entirely counter to her\nown wishes and to those of her sister, for as she was walking in the\npiazza she happened to meet there an old woman who was carrying in her\napron the most beautiful and most perfectly made doll that had ever been\nseen. So much indeed was Adamantina\u2019s fancy taken by the doll that,\nafter she had looked at it and feasted her eyes upon it, her thoughts\nwere more occupied in considering how she might become the owner\nthereof, than how she should dispose of her yarn. Therefore Adamantina,\nletting her thoughts run on in this wise, and not knowing how to get\npossession of the doll by anything she might say or do, made up her mind\nat last to tempt fortune and to see whether she could not obtain the\ndoll through exchange. So having gone up to the old woman she spake\nthus: \u2018Good mother, if it seem a fair thing to you, I will gladly give\nyou this thread of mine in barter for your doll.\u2019 The old woman, when\nshe saw that this fine handsome young girl was so eager to have the doll\nfor her own, was not disposed to baulk her fancy; so, having taken the\nthread, she handed the doll over to Adamantina.\n\nAs soon as the girl could call the doll her own, she went back to her\nhome as joyous and content as anyone in all the world, and her sister\nCassandra, when she saw her, at once inquired of her whether she had\nsold the yarn. To this Adamantina replied that she had sold it. \u2018But\nwhere is the bread which you have bought with the price you got for the\nthread?\u2019 inquired Cassandra. Then Adamantina opened wide the apron she\nwas wearing and showed Cassandra the doll which she had got by barter of\nher own ware. Cassandra, who was sorely hungry and eager for the bread,\nwhen she saw the doll was filled with such violent anger and indignation\nthat she seized Adamantina by the hair of her head, and belaboured her\nso grievously with cuffs and blows that the unfortunate girl could\nscarcely move. Adamantina took the blows with patience, and, without\nmaking any attempt to defend herself, she went away and hid herself in\nanother room, taking her doll with her.\n\nWhen the evening had come Adamantina, according to the habit of young\ngirls, sat down by the fireside, and, having taken some oil out of the\nlamp, she anointed therewith the doll\u2019s stomach and loins. Then she\nwrapped the doll carefully in some bits of tattered cloth, and placed it\nin her own bed, and a very short time afterwards she went to bed herself\nand lay down beside the doll. Scarcely had Adamantina fallen into her\nfirst sleep when the doll began to cry out: \u2018The stool, mother, the\nstool.\u2019 Whereupon Adamantina, wakening from her sleep, said: \u2018What is\nthe matter with you, my daughter?\u2019 and to this the doll replied in the\nsame words as before. Then Adamantina said: \u2018Wait a little, my\ndaughter;\u2019 and she straightway arose and ministered to the doll as if it\nhad been a young child, and to her amazement she found that the doll\nfilled the stool with a great quantity of coins of all sorts.\n\nAs soon as Adamantina saw what had happened she straightway awakened her\nsister Cassandra and showed her the money which had come to her in this\nstrange fashion. Cassandra, when she marked what a great sum of money\nwas there, stood as one stricken with wonder, and rendered hearty thanks\nto God for sending them such welcome succour in their want and misery,\nand, turning to Adamantina, she begged pardon of her for the blows which\nshe had so cruelly and unjustly given to her, and she took the doll and\ncaressed it tenderly and kissed it, holding it closely in her arms. And\nwhen the next day had come, the two sisters took of the money and\npurchased therewith bread and wine and oil and wood, and all other sorts\nof provisions which are suitable to a well-ordered house, taking care\nevery evening to anoint the stomach of the doll with oil, and to wrap it\nin a piece of the finest linen, and the doll on its part never failed to\nsupply them with money in abundance whenever they had need thereof.\n\nIt chanced on a certain day that one of their neighbours, having gone\ninto the house of the two sisters, remarked that their home was well\nfurnished with all the necessaries of life in great abundance, and on\nthis account began to wonder how it was that they could have become rich\nin so short a time, remembering, moreover, how miserably poor they had\nbeen hitherto, and knowing full well that no one could say otherwise\nthan that they were honest and upright in all their ways. Wherefore the\nneighbour, having given the matter due consideration, determined to find\nout the source from which they might have gathered such gain; so having\nbetaken herself once more to the house of the two sisters, she thus\naddressed them: \u2018My daughters, I beg you to tell me by what means you\nhave been able to furnish your house so plentifully, seeing that but\nyesterday you were in sore poverty.\u2019 To this question Cassandra, the\nelder sister, made reply: \u2018Good neighbour, we have done all this by the\nmeans of a single pound of flaxen yarn, which we gave in exchange for a\ndoll, and this doll gives us money in abundance, and supplies us with\neverything we need.\u2019 The neighbour, when she heard these words, was\ngreatly disturbed in her mind, and was so filled with envy of the good\nfortune which had befallen the girls that she determined to steal the\ndoll. As soon as she returned to her house, she told her husband how the\ntwo sisters had a certain doll which every night was accustomed to give\nthem great store of gold and silver, and that she had made up her mind\nto steal the doll from them come what might.\n\nNow although the husband made mock of his wife\u2019s words at first, she\nwent on telling her story with such a show of reason that in the end she\nconvinced him that it was nought but the truth. But he said to his wife:\n\u2018And how do you mean to steal it?\u2019 To this the good woman made answer:\n\u2018To-night you must feign to be drunk, and, having caught up your sword,\nyou must run after me threatening to take my life, but at the same time\nonly striking the wall. And I, pretending to be in great terror of you,\nwill run out of the house into the street, and the two sisters, who are\nkindly and compassionate by nature, will assuredly open their door to\nme, and take me in and shelter me. I will stay there for the night, and\nwill do the best I can for the furtherance of my plan.\u2019\n\nAnd when the evening had come, the husband of this good dame took a\nrusty old sword of his, and, laying about with it now against this wall\nand now against that, ran after his wife, who, screaming and crying with\na loud voice, fled out of the house. The two sisters, when they heard\nthis hurlyburly, ran to look out into the street to see what might be\nthe cause thereof, whereupon they recognized the voice of their\nneighbour, who was screaming lustily. They at once rushed away from the\nwindow, and ran down to the door giving on to the street, and having\nopened this they pulled her into the house. The good woman, when she had\nbeen questioned by them for what reason her husband had pursued and\nassaulted her with such anger, thus made reply: \u2018This evening he came\nhome so dazed with wine-bibbing that he wots not anything that he does.\nAnd only for the reason that I reproved him on account of his\ndrunkenness, he seized his sword and ran after me threatening to kill\nme; but as I am more nimble and swift of foot than he, I was only too\nready to get out of his way, so as to keep him from working some\nscandalous deed, and here I am in your charge.\u2019 When they heard these\nwords both the sisters said: \u2018You did well, my mother, and you must\nassuredly bide this night with us, lest you should fall into some fresh\ndanger of your life, and in the meantime your husband\u2019s drunken humour\nwill dissipate itself.\u2019 And when they had prepared the supper they all\nsat down together.\n\nAdamantina, when she went to bed, anointed the doll according to her\nwont, and afterwards at the same hour of the night the doll cried out as\nbefore, and Adamantina, when she had attended to its wants, found that a\nlarge quantity of money had come from the doll in the same marvellous\nwise as before. The good woman who had sought refuge with the sisters\nwas mightily astonished at what she saw, and every hour which must pass\nuntil she could steal the doll, and work this miracle for her own\nbenefit, seemed a thousand years.\n\nWhen the morning had come the good woman rose secretly from her bed,\nleaving the two sisters still sleeping, and stole the doll from\nAdamantina\u2019s side without letting the girl know aught of the theft. Then\nhaving aroused the girls she begged leave of them to return to her home,\naffirming that by this time her husband would doubtlessly have got rid\nof the fumes of the wine with which he had so inordinately filled\nhimself. Therefore, when she had returned to her home, she said to her\nhusband, with a joyful face: \u2018My husband, we have at last alighted upon\nour good fortune, for see, here is the doll I told you about, which can\nwork such wonders.\u2019 And one hour seemed a thousand years till the night\nshould come, and she should be able to work the charm that would make\nher a rich woman. And when the night had fallen the woman took the doll,\nand, having lighted a good fire in her chamber, she anointed with oil\nthe stomach and loins of the doll, and wrapped it carefully in child\u2019s\nclouts. Then, having taken off her own clothes, she got into bed and\nplaced it by her side.\n\nAfter the first sleep of the night was over the doll woke up and cried\nout: \u2018The stool, madonna, the stool!\u2019 (it did not call her mother,\ninasmuch as it did not know who she was), and the good woman, who was\nanxiously awaiting the result which was to follow, rose from her bed and\nattended to the doll as if it had been a young child; but this time it\nhappened that, in lieu of coins of gold and silver, the doll filled the\nchamber with so offensive a smell that the good woman was fain to get as\nfar away from it as she could. The husband, when he perceived what had\nhappened, said to her: \u2018See, fool that you are, what a pretty trick this\ndoll has played you, and I myself am just as big a fool for having lent\nan ear to such crazy trash.\u2019 But the wife, waxing angry with her husband\non account of these reproaches, affirmed with many an oath that she had\nseen with her own eyes the vast quantity of money that the doll had\ngiven to the two sisters. However, seeing that she was mightily anxious\nto make a fresh experiment on the following night, the husband, who was\nin no humour to face again the discomfort he had lately felt, began to\nabuse her roundly, and launched against her the most opprobrious\nspeeches that ever man applied to woman. Not content with this, he\nseized the doll in his hand, and having opened the window, he hurled it\nout into the street, letting it fall upon a heap of sweepings which lay\nbelow. Soon after he had done this, it happened that some peasants who\ntilled the ground outside the city loaded on their cart this heap of\nrefuse, and without knowing what they did loaded up the doll likewise,\nand when they had filled their cart they returned to the country, and\nspread the load of sweepings over their fields in order to enrich the\nsoil.\n\nNot many days after this, it chanced that Drusiano the king, who had\ngone out into the country to seek diversion in the chase, was seized\nwith a sharp pain of his intestines, and forthwith sought relief of the\nsame by the remedy of nature, but not having upon him wherewith to\naccommodate himself afterwards, he called to him one of his servants and\ncharged him to go search for something which might serve his ends.\nWhereupon the servant went towards the manure heap which the peasants\naforesaid had collected, to see whether he might be able to find\nanything which would be suitable for the purpose, and, looking now on\nthis side and now on that, his eye fell upon the doll, and having picked\nit up, he bore it at once to the king, who, without any fear or\nsuspicion, took hold of it and proceeded to apply it to the use for\nwhich he wanted it. But the next moment the king broke out into loud\ncries and bellowings of pain, for the doll had seized upon his hinder\nparts with its teeth, and held on thereto with so tight a grip that he\nscreamed out with agony at the top of his voice. And when those of his\ntrain heard these terrible cries, they forthwith all ran towards the\nking to lend him their aid. Seeing him lying on the ground more dead\nthan alive, they were hugely astonished to find that he was suffering\npain on account of the doll which had fastened on to him, and they began\nat once with their united strength to try to disengage it from his\nhinder parts; but all their strivings were in vain, for the more\nviolently they tugged to get the thing away, the greater torment it\ninflicted on the poor king, and there was not one of them who could\ndisturb its hold, much less make it let go. And now and again the doll\nwould claw him with its sharp fingers so grievously that he seemed to\nsee all the stars of the firmament, although it was yet high noon.\n\nWhen the unfortunate king had returned to his palace with the doll still\nhanging on to him, and was still unable to find any means of getting rid\nof his plague, he caused to be put forth a proclamation declaring that\nany man, no matter what his condition might be, who should have the wit\nand courage to remove the doll should be rewarded by a gift of one third\npart of the king\u2019s dominions, and if it should chance that any maiden\nmight be found able to perform this work he would take her for his\nbeloved wife. And in addition to this King Drusiano swore by his crown,\nand bound himself by the most solemn oaths to keep every promise he had\nmade in the proclamation above named. As soon as the king\u2019s proclamation\nwas made public, a vast crowd of people repaired to the palace in the\nhope of obtaining the promised reward, but to not one of them was\ngranted the good fortune of being able to rid the king of his trouble;\non the contrary, as soon as anyone chanced to come near the king the\ndoll tormented him more grievously than ever, so the wretched Drusiano,\nthus cruelly vexed and tortured, and unable to light upon any remedy for\nhis strange and incomprehensible affliction, lay there almost as if he\nwere a dead man.\n\nCassandra and Adamantina, who in the meantime had shed many tears over\nthe loss of their doll, as soon as they heard the terms of the\nproclamation which had been issued, went straightway to the palace and\npresented themselves before the king. Then Cassandra, who was the elder\nof the two, began at once to fondle and caress the doll with signs of\nthe greatest affection, but thereupon, so far from loosening its hold,\nit only vexed the poor king yet more sorely with its teeth and claws.\nThen Adamantina, who stood somewhat apart from the others, now came\nforward and said: \u2018Gracious king! I beg you that you will now suffer me\nto try my fortune in ridding you of this ill,\u2019 and, having gone close to\nthe doll, she spake thus: \u2018Ah, my child! leave my lord the king in peace\nnow, and do not torment him any longer.\u2019 And with these words she took\nhold of it by its clothes, and began to fondle and caress it. The doll,\nas soon as it recognized its own little mother, who had been in the\nhabit of tending and caring for it, at once let go its hold on the\nking\u2019s person and sprang into Adamantina\u2019s arms. And when Drusiano\nperceived what was done, he was utterly astonished and amazed, and\nforthwith lay down to get some repose, for during many and many nights\nand days he had not been able to find either rest or peace on account of\nthe sharp agony he had undergone.\n\nWhen King Drusiano was at length healed of the ills that had befallen\nhim on account of the biting of the doll, in order that he might not\nfail in the fulfilment of the promise he had made, he caused Adamantina\nto be brought into his presence, and, seeing that she was a fair and\ngraceful young maiden, he married her in the presence of all his people.\nA short time afterwards he honourably bestowed her elder sister\nCassandra in marriage with sumptuous feastings and triumphs, and they\nall lived long together in peace and happiness.\n\nThe doll, when it saw how both of the sisters had been so honourably and\nrichly married, and how everything had come to a happy issue, suddenly\ndisappeared, and whither it went and what became of it no man ever knew.\nBut in my opinion it merely disappeared after the common fashion of\nphantoms.\n\nThe fable told by Alteria, which here came to an end, gave great\npleasure to all the company, and the laughter was loud and long as they\nrecalled to mind the beneficent ways and habits of the doll, and in what\nfashion the thing hung with its teeth and its claws upon the hinder\nparts of the king. And when the laughter had somewhat abated, the\nSignora at once gave the word to Alteria to follow the customary rule\nand propound her enigma, which the damsel gave in the following words,\nsmiling pleasantly the while:\n\n                 Just a span in length is he,\n                 And plump in form in due degree.\n                 Full of eagerness and pride,\n                 And ready aye with men to bide.\n                 Very fair his seeming shows;\n                 Capote red he wears and hose;\n                 Bells also. A thing of pleasure\n                 To those who love him in due measure.\n\nAs soon as Alteria had spoken the last word of her gracefully turned and\ndifficult enigma, the Signora, who by this time had put off her kindly\nmood and was casting angry looks upon the damsel, cried out that it was\nmost unseemly to speak such immodest words to the ears of honest women\nin her presence, and that for the future she must be careful not to\ntrespass in like manner. Whereupon Alteria, blushing somewhat, rose from\nher seat, and having turned her bright face towards the Signora, spake\nthus: \u201cSignora, of a truth the enigma which I have just proposed is not\nin any way immodest as you seem to believe, and this I shall make quite\nclear to you by giving you the real interpretation thereof, which I will\nstraightway make known to you and to the rest of my gracious hearers.\nFor be it understood my enigma signifies nothing else except the falcon,\nwhich is a bird at once tractable and bold, and comes readily to the\nfalconer\u2019s call. It wears on its feet jesses and bells, and it will give\ngreat pleasure and diversion to anyone who goes out fowling therewith.\u201d\nWhen the real interpretation of this clever riddle, which had been set\ndown by the Signora as being unseemly, had been given, all the listeners\npraised it heartily, and the Signora, having by this time laid aside\nevery sinister imagining she had harboured concerning Alteria\u2019s riddle,\nturned her face towards Lauretta and made a sign to her that she should\napproach her, and the damsel at once came in obedience to the command.\nAnd because Lauretta stood next in turn to follow with her fable, the\nSignora thus addressed her: \u201cIt is my wish that you refrain for a while\nfrom telling us your story, and that you should instead listen to that\nwhich the others may say. It is not because I hold you in light esteem\nthat I speak thus to you, or rate your powers less than those of your\ncompanions, but in order that we may be entertained this evening in a\nfashion that is beyond our wont.\u201d To this Lauretta made reply: \u201cSignora,\nany word of yours is to me as a command,\u201d and having made a profound\nobeisance to the Signora she went back to her place.\n\nThen the Signora, turning an earnest gaze upon Molino\u2019s face, made a\nsign to him thus with her hand to bid him come to her, whereupon he got\nup quickly from his seat and went most respectfully towards her. To him\nshe spake in these words: \u201cSignor Antonio, this last evening of the week\nis for us a special time, a season of privilege for anyone to say\nwhatsoever he may wish to say, so for my own pleasure and for the\npleasure of this honourable company, I would that you yourself should\nrelate to us a fable in your best and happiest vein and manner, and I\nfurther beg you that you will tell us this story in the speech of\nBergamo. And if\u2014as I hope you will\u2014you grant us this favour, we shall\nall of us be held by a lasting obligation to you.\u201d Molino, when he\nrightly understood the Signora\u2019s speech, stood at first as one\nconfounded, but when he realized that he had sailed up to a point he\ncould not weather, he said: \u201cSignora, it is for you to command and for\nus to obey, but I would warn you not to expect from me aught that shall\ngive you any great pleasure, seeing that the illustrious damsels I see\naround me have brought the art of story-telling to such a high pitch of\nexcellence that there is little or no chance for one like me to\ncontribute aught to our diversion. Nevertheless, such as I am, I will do\nmy best to give you satisfaction, not, indeed, so great as you wish, or\nas I would, but according to the measure of my humble powers.\u201d And\nhaving thus spoken, Molino went back to his seat and began his story in\nthe following words.\n\n\n\n\n                            THE THIRD FABLE.\n\n  =Bertholdo of Valsabbia has three sons, all of them hunchbacks and\n      much alike in seeming. One of them, called Zambo, goes out into\n      the world to seek his fortune, and arrives at Rome, where he is\n      killed and thrown into the Tiber, together with his two\n      brothers.[34]=\n\n\nIt is indeed hard, sweet ladies and gracious Signora! hard, indeed, I\nsay it is, to kick against the pricks, for the kick of an ass is a cruel\nthing; but still more cruel is the kick of a horse, and for this reason,\nsince fortune has willed it that I should undertake to tell a tale, I\nhad best obey; for patience beatifies us, but obstinacy damns us, and,\nshould we prove obstinate, we go straight to the devil. So if it should\nchance that I tell you something which may prove in no wise to your\ntaste, do not give the blame to me, but to the Signora over yonder who\nhas thus willed it.\n\nIt often happens that a man goes a-seeking that which he had better\nleave alone, and in consequence not seldom lights upon certain things\nwhich he never looked to find, and in the end will be left with his hand\nfull of flies.[35] Thus, indeed, it happened some time ago to Zambo, the\nson of Bertholdo of Valsabbia, who sought to dupe two of his brothers,\nbut by his brothers was himself duped. True it is that in the end they\nall three died miserably, as you will hear if you will lend me your\nears, and with your minds and your understandings listen to the story\nwhich I am now about to relate.\n\nI must tell you, therefore, that Bertholdo of Valsabbia, in the province\nof Bergamo, had three sons, all three hunchbacks, and all resembling\neach other so closely that it was impossible to tell the one from the\nother; they might, indeed, have been likened to three shrivelled\npumpkins.[36] One of these sons was called Zambo, another Bertaz, and\nthe third Sant\u00ec; and Zambo, who was the eldest, had not yet attained his\nsixteenth year. It came one day to Zambo\u2019s ears that Bertholdo his\nfather, by reason of the great dearth there was in the parts round about\nand in all the rest of the land besides, wished to sell for the sake of\nhis family the small property which was his patrimony (in sooth, there\nwere few or none to be found in that country who had any belongings of\ntheir own); wherefore Zambo, addressing himself to Bertaz and Sant\u00ec, his\nyounger brothers, spoke to them as an elder brother in the following\nwords: \u2018It would surely be a wiser plan, my dear brothers, that our\nfather should retain the little bit of property which we happen to have,\nso that after his death we may have something whereby to gain a\nsustenance, and that you should go out into the world and try to earn\nsomething upon which we may keep up our house. I, in the meantime, will\nremain at home with the old man, taking good care of him, and thus we\nshall have no need to waste our substance, and by such management may be\nable to tide over the season of scarcity.\u2019\n\nBertaz and Sant\u00ec, the younger brothers, who were no less crafty and\ncunning than Zambo, at once made answer to their brother: \u2018Zambo, dear\nbrother that you are, you spring a surprise upon us somewhat suddenly,\nand question us in such wise that we scarcely know how to answer you.\nGive us thinking time for this one night; then we will consider the\nmatter, and to-morrow will let you have our reply.\u2019\n\nThe two brothers, Bertaz and Sant\u00ec, had been brought forth at one birth,\nand between these two there was a greater sympathy than between either\nof them and Zambo. And if Zambo were to be reckoned a rascal of\ntwenty-two carats, Bertaz and Sant\u00ec were rascals of twenty-six; for it\nnot seldom happens that, where nature fails, ingenuity and malice supply\nthe want.\n\nWhen the following morning had come, Bertaz, by agreement with Sant\u00ec his\nbrother, went to find Zambo, and opened discourse with him in these\nwords: \u2018Zambo, my dear brother, we have well thought over and considered\nthe case in which we stand, and, seeing that you are (as you will not\ndeny) the elder brother, we think it would be more seemly for you to go\nfirst into the world, and that we who are younger should stop here to\nlook after our father. And we would counsel you that if, in the\nmeantime, you should come across any good fortune for yourself and for\nus, you should write to us here, and we would come at once to join you.\u2019\nZambo, who had hoped to get the better of Bertaz and Sant\u00ec, was greatly\ndisconcerted when he heard this answer, and, muttering to himself, he\nsaid: \u2018These two are more cunning and malicious loons than I had\nimagined.\u2019 For he had hoped to be rid of his two brothers, and himself\nbe left master of all their property, trusting that they might both of\nthem die of hunger by reason of the dearth prevailing in the land;\nmoreover, their father was not long for this world, and had already one\nfoot in the grave. But the issue of this affair proved to be vastly\ndifferent from anything Zambo had expected. When, therefore, Zambo heard\nthe answer given to him by Bertaz and Sant\u00ec, he made a small bundle of\nthe few rags he possessed, and, having filled a pouch with some bread\nand cheese and a small flask of wine, he put on his feet a pair of shoes\nof red pigskin, and departed thence and went towards Brescia. But not\nfinding anything to suit him there, he went on to Verona, where he came\nacross a master cap-maker, who asked him whether he knew how to make\ncaps, to which question he answered no; and, seeing that there was\nnothing for him to do there, he left Verona, and, having passed through\nVicenza, he came to Padua, where certain doctors saw him and asked him\nwhether he knew how to take care of mules, and he answered them no, but\nthat he could till the land and tend vines; but, as he could not come to\nany understanding with them, he went on his way to Venice.\n\nZambo had wandered about the city for a long time without lighting on\nany employ to his taste, and, seeing that he had about him neither a\ncoin, nor anything to eat, he felt that he was indeed in evil case. But\nafter he had walked a long distance, he was brought by God\u2019s pleasure to\nthe port, but because he was penniless no one would assist him.\nWherefore the poor fellow knew not which way he should turn, but having\nremarked that the ragged wastrels who turned the machines for drawing\nboats ashore gained a few pence by this labour, he took up this calling\nhimself. But Fortune, who always persecutes the poor, the slothful, and\nthe wretched, willed that one day when he was working one of these\nmachines the leather strap should break. This in untwining caught a\nspar, which hit him in the chest and felled him to the ground, where for\na time he lay as one lifeless. Indeed, had it not been for the timely\naid given to him by some kind-hearted fellows, who haled him into their\nboat by his legs and arms and rowed him back to Venice, he assuredly\nwould have died.\n\nWhen Zambo had recovered from the ill effects of this mischance he went\nin search of someone who might give him employment, and as he passed by\na grocer\u2019s shop he was remarked by the master thereof, who was pounding\nin a mortar almonds wherewith to make marzapan. Whereupon the grocer\nasked him whether he was minded to come and serve in the shop, and Zambo\nreplied that he was; so, having entered, he was at once set to work by\nthe grocer at dressing certain comfits, and instructed how to separate\nthe black from the white, working the while beside another apprentice.\nThis fellow and Zambo (greedy gluttons, forsooth), in the course of\ntheir task of comfit dressing, set to work in such a manner that they\nstripped off and used the outer rind of the sweet almonds and ate the\nkernels themselves. The grocer, when he saw what was going on, took a\nstick in his hand and gave each of them a sound beating, saying: \u2018If you\nare set on plunder, you thievish knaves, I would that you pilfered your\nown stores and not mine,\u2019 and having thus spoken he belaboured them\nstill more and bade them go to the devil.\n\nZambo, smarting from the blows dealt him by the grocer, took his\ndeparture and went to St. Mark\u2019s Place, and as he passed by the spot\nwhere herbs and vegetables are set out for sale, he met by good luck a\nherbalist from Chiozza, Vivia Vianel by name, who straightway demanded\nof him whether he would be willing to enter his service, where he would\nget good food and good treatment as well. Zambo, who at this time wore\nthe armorial bearings of Siena[37] on his back, and was longing for a\ngood meal, replied that he was; so, when Vianel had sold his few last\nbunches of herbs, they took a boat and returned to Chiozza, where Zambo\nwas at once set to work in the garden and bidden to tend the vines.\n\nNow Zambo, after he had gone up and down in Chiozza for a certain time,\nbecame acquainted with divers of his master\u2019s friends, and when the\nseason for the first ripe figs had come, Vivia took the three finest he\ncould pluck from his garden, and, having put them on a platter, sent\nthem as a present to a friend of his in Chiozza whose name was Peder. He\ncalled Zambo and gave him the three figs, and said to him: \u2018Zambo, take\nthese three figs and carry them to my friend Ser Peder, and ask him to\naccept them for love of me.\u2019 Zambo in obedience to Vivia\u2019s command\nreplied: \u2018With pleasure, my master,\u2019 and taking the figs he merrily went\nhis way. But it chanced by ill luck that as Zambo was going along the\nstreet a greedy humour took possession of him, and having looked at the\nfigs over and over again he thus addressed gluttony: \u2018What shall I do?\nshall I eat or shall I refrain?\u2019 To this gluttony replied: \u2018A starving\nman observes no law; wherefore eat.\u2019 And for the reason that Zambo was\ngreedy by nature and very hungry to boot, he listened to these counsels\nof gluttony, and having taken in his hands one of the figs, he began to\nrend the skin from the neck thereof. Then he took a bite here and a bite\nthere, saying the while, \u2018It is good; it is not good;\u2019 and so he went on\ntill he had consumed it all in tasting, and nought but the skin\nremained.\n\nWhen Zambo had eaten the fig he began to wonder whether, perchance, he\nmight not have transgressed somewhat, but for the reason that gluttony\nstill urged him on, he did not stand long in balancing chances, but took\nthe second fig in his hand and treated it as he had treated the first.\nAfter the greedy fellow had made an end of the second fig he was again\nassailed by fears, and hardly knew whether, on account of his fault, he\nshould go on or turn back; but after a short term of indecision he took\ncourage and determined to go on. As soon as he had come to Ser Peder\u2019s\ndoor he knocked thereat, and as he was well known there the door was\nquickly opened. Having entered he went to find Ser Peder, who was\nwalking up and down, and when he saw him the good man thus addressed\nhim: \u2018What has Zambo come to tell me? What good news does he bring?\u2019\n\u2018Good morrow, good morrow,\u2019 answered Zambo; \u2018my master gave me three\nfigs to bring to you, but of these three I have eaten two.\u2019 \u2018But how\ncould you do such a thing as this?\u2019 said Ser Peder. \u2018I did it in this\nfashion,\u2019 said Zambo, and with these words he took the last fig and ate\nit deliberately, and so it fell out that all three of the figs found\ntheir way into Zambo\u2019s belly. When Ser Peder saw this saucy jest he said\nto Zambo: \u2018My son, tell your master that I thank him, but that in future\nhe need not trouble himself to send me presents of this sort.\u2019 Zambo\nanswered, \u2018No, no, Messer Peder, say not so, for I shall never weary of\nsuch errands,\u2019 and with these words he left Messer Peder and went home.\n\nWhen the report of Zambo\u2019s smart trick came to Vivia\u2019s ears, and when he\nlearned furthermore how finely lazy he was and a glutton as well,\nguzzling when he was hungry till he was ready to burst, and how he would\nnever work save when he was driven thereto, the good man chased the\nhunchback out of his house. So Zambo, poor devil, when he found himself\ndriven out of his employ, knew not whither to turn; thus after a little\nhe determined to go to Rome in the hope that he might there find better\nfortune than he had hitherto come across, and this plan of his he duly\ncarried out.\n\nZambo, when he had arrived in Rome, went about seeking here and there a\nmaster, and at last met a certain merchant who was called Messer Ambros\ndal Mul, who kept a great shop full of cloth goods. With him Zambo took\nservice, and was set to mind the shop, and seeing that he had suffered\nmuch in the past, he made up his mind to learn the trade and to live a\ndecent life for the future. Though he was deformed and ugly, he was\nnevertheless very shrewd, and in a short time he made himself so useful\nin the shop that his master seemed to take no more trouble himself about\nbuying or selling, but trusted everything to him and made use of him for\nservice of all kinds. Now it chanced that one day Messer Ambros had\noccasion to go to the fair of Recanati with a stock of cloth, but\nperceiving that Zambo had made himself so competent in the business and\nhad proved himself worthy of trust, he determined to send Zambo to the\nfair, and bide at home himself and mind the shop.\n\nAfter Zambo\u2019s departure it happened by ill fortune that Messer Ambros\nwas seized with so grave and insidious an illness that after the lapse\nof a few days he died. When his wife, who was called Madonna Felicetta,\nfound that she was a widow, she wellnigh died herself, of grief[38] for\nthe loss of her husband, and of anxiety on account of the breaking up of\nher business. As soon as Zambo heard of the sad news of his master\u2019s\ndeath, he returned straightway and bore himself as a godly youth should,\nand diligently went about the affairs of the shop. Madonna Felicetta, as\ntime went on, remarked that Zambo behaved himself well and uprightly,\nand was diligent over the business. She considered, likewise, that a\nyear had now rolled away since the death of Messer Ambros her husband,\nand, as she feared to lose Zambo some day, together with divers of the\ncustomers of her shop, she took counsel with some of her gossips whether\nshe should marry or not, and in case she should resolve to marry,\nwhether it would be well for her to take for a husband Zambo the factor\nof her business, who had been for a long time in the service of her\nfirst husband, and had gathered much experience in the conduct of her\naffairs. These worthy gossips deeming her proposition a wise one,\ncounselled her to marry Zambo; and between the word and the deed but\nlittle time[39] intervened, for the nuptials were celebrated at once,\nand Madonna Felicetta became the wife of Ser Zambo and Ser Zambo the\nhusband of Madonna Felicetta.\n\nWhen Ser Zambo perceived himself raised to this high estate, how he had\na wife of his own and a fine shop well stocked with all manner of cloth\ngoods, he wrote to his father, telling him he was now in Rome, and of\nthe great stroke of luck which had befallen him. The father, who since\nthe day of Zambo\u2019s departure had heard no tidings of his son, nor had\never received a written word from him, now gave up the ghost from sheer\njoy, but Bertaz and Sant\u00ec were mightily pleased and consoled with the\nnews.\n\nOne day it chanced that Madonna Felicetta found herself in need of a new\npair of stockings, because the ones she wore were rent and torn,\nwherefore she said to Ser Zambo her husband that he must have made for\nher another pair. To this Zambo replied that he had other business to\ndo, and that if her stockings were torn, she had better go and mend them\nand patch them and put new heels thereto. Madonna Felicetta, who had\nbeen greatly pampered by her late husband, replied that it had never\nbeen her wont to go shod in hose which had been mended and heeled, and\nthat she must have a new pair. Then answered Ser Zambo that in his\ncountry customs were different, and that she must do without. Thus the\nbout of wrangling began, and, flying from one angry word to another, it\ncame to pass in the end that Ser Zambo lifted his hand and cuffed her\nover the head so heavily that she fell to the ground.[40] Madonna\nFelicetta, planning the while how she might give back these blows of Ser\nZambo, was little disposed to come to terms with him or to pacify him in\nany way, so she began to hurl foul words at him. Ser Zambo, feeling that\nhis honour was impugned thereby, belaboured her so soundly with his\nfists that the poor woman was constrained to hold her peace.\n\nWhen the summer had passed, and the cold weather had set in, Madonna\nFelicetta asked Ser Zambo to let her have a silken lining wherewith to\nrepair her pelisse, which was in very bad condition, and in order that\nhe might be assured that she spoke the truth she brought it to him to\nsee; but Ser Zambo did not trouble to cast his eye over it, but simply\nsaid that she must mend it and wear it as it was, for that in his\ncountry people were not used to so much pomp. Madonna Felicetta, when\nshe heard these words, was mightily wroth, and affirmed that she must\nhave granted to her what she asked at any cost. Ser Zambo, however,\nanswered that she must hold her peace and be careful not to arouse his\nanger, otherwise it would be the worse for her. But Madonna Felicetta\nwent on insisting that she must have it, and they one and the other\nworked themselves up into such a fury that they were well nigh blinded\nwith rage. Whereupon Ser Zambo, according to his wont, began to thump\nher with his stick, and gave her as shrewd a jacketting of blows as she\ncould bear, and she lay half dead.[41] When Madonna Felicetta saw how\nhugely Zambo\u2019s humour towards herself had changed, she began to\nblaspheme and to curse the day and the hour when she had first spoken to\nhim, nor did she forget those who had advised her to take him for a\nhusband. \u2018Is this the way you treat me,\u2019 she cried, \u2018you poltroon, you\nungrateful rascal, hangman, Goth, and villainous scoundrel? Is this the\nreward you return to me for the many benefits you have received? for,\nfrom the base hireling you formerly were, have I not made you the master\nnot only of my wealth but of my person as well? And yet you deal with me\nin this wise. Hold your peace, traitor, for I will make you pay smartly\nfor this.\u2019 Ser Zambo, hearing how his wife waxed more and more wroth,\nand poured out her abuse of him more copiously than ever, made farther\nshrewd play upon her back with his cudgel to give her a finishing touch,\nwhereupon Madonna Felicetta was reduced to such a state of fear, that\nwhen she heard the sound of Zambo\u2019s voice or footstep, she trembled like\na leaf in the wind, and became all wet with terror.\n\nWhen the winter had passed and the summer was coming on, it chanced that\nSer Zambo had need to go to Bologna on account of business, and to\ncollect certain sums of money due to him. As this journey would occupy\nsome days, he said to Madonna Felicetta: \u2018Wife, I would have you know\nthat I have two brothers, who are both hunchbacks as I am myself, and so\nclosely do we all resemble one another that if anyone should see us all\nthree together he would never know which was which. Now I bid you watch\nwell lest they come here and attempt to lodge with us. See that you do\nnot let them come over the threshold on any account, for they are\nwicked, deceitful, and crafty knaves, and would assuredly play you some\nevil trick. Then they would go to the devil and leave you with your\nhands full of flies.[42] If I should learn that you have harboured them\nin this house I will make you the most wretched woman in the world.\u2019 And\nhaving said these words he departed.\n\nA few days after Zambo\u2019s departure the brothers Bertaz and Sant\u00ec\narrived, and went about asking for Ser Zambo\u2019s shop, which was pointed\nout to them. When the two rascals saw the fine shop, furnished richly\nwith all manner of cloth goods, they were astounded, and marvelled amain\nhow it was that he could have gathered together all this wealth in so\nshort a time. And, lost in wonderment, they went to the shop and said\nthey desired to have speech with Ser Zambo, but were told that he was\ngone into the country; if, however, they had need of aught they could\nask for it. Whereupon Bertaz said they much wished to speak with him,\nbut as he was not at home they would speak with his wife, so they bade\nthe servant call Madonna Felicetta, and when she came into the shop she\nknew at once that the men before her were her brothers-in-law. Bertaz,\nwhen he saw her, straightway inquired of her, \u2018Madonna, are you the wife\nof Zambo?\u2019 And she made answer that she was. Then said Bertaz: \u2018Madonna,\nshake hands, for we are the brothers of your husband, and therefore your\nbrothers-in-law.\u2019 Madonna Felicetta, who well remembered the words of\nSer Zambo as well as the belabouring he had given her, refused to touch\ntheir hands, but they went on plying her with so many affectionate words\nand gestures that in the end she shook hands with them. As soon as she\nhad thus greeted them, Bertaz cried out: \u2018Oh, my dear sister-in-law!\ngive us somewhat to eat, for we are half famished.\u2019 But this she refused\nto do. The rogues, however, knew so well how to use the trick of\nflattery, and begged so persistently, that Madonna Felicetta was moved\nto pity, and took them into the house and gave them food and drink in\nplenty, and even allowed them to sleep in a certain corner. Scarcely had\nthree days passed since Bertaz and Sant\u00ec had come to Madonna Felicetta\u2019s\nhouse when Ser Zambo returned. His wife, as soon as she heard of this,\nwas almost beside herself with terror, and she hardly knew what to do so\nas to keep the brothers out of Ser Zambo\u2019s sight, and as she could hit\nupon no better plan she made them go into the kitchen, where was a\ntrough in which they were accustomed to scald pigs, and in this she bade\nthem conceal themselves.\n\nWhen Ser Zambo entered the house and marked how dishevelled and worried\nhis wife seemed to be, he was mightily upset in his mind and said: \u2018Why\ndo you look so frightened? What ails you? I suppose there is no gallant\nhidden anywhere in the house?\u2019 But she replied in a faint voice that\nthere was nought the matter with her. Ser Zambo, who was regarding her\nsharply the while, said: \u2018Certes, there is something the matter with\nyou. Are those brothers of mine by any chance in the house?\u2019 But she\nanswered boldly that they were not; whereupon he began to give her a\ntaste of the stick, according to his custom. Bertaz and Sant\u00ec, who were\nunder the pig-trough, could hear all the hurlyburly, and, so terrified\nwere they, that they wet their breeches like children in a fright, and\ndid not venture to move. Ser Zambo, when he at last put down his stick,\nbegan to search the house in every corner to see whether he could find\nanyone hidden, but finding nought he calmed himself somewhat and went\nabout the ordering of certain of his affairs, and so long was he\noccupied thereanent (thus keeping his luckless brothers in their\nhiding-place) that Bertaz and Sant\u00ec, either through fear, or through the\ngreat heat, or on account of the foul stench of the pig-trough,\nstraightway gave up the ghost.\n\nWhen the hour had come at which Ser Zambo was wont to repair to the\npiazza, there to transact business with the other merchants, he went out\nof the house, and as soon as he had taken his departure Madonna\nFelicetta went to the pig-trough to devise some scheme for getting rid\nof her brothers-in-law, so that Ser Zambo might have no suspicion that\nshe had given them shelter. But when she uncovered the trough she found\nthem lying there both stark dead, and looking exactly like two pigs. The\npoor woman, when she saw what had happened, fell into a terrible taking\nof grief and despair, and, in order that her husband might be kept\naltogether in ignorance of what had occurred, she spent all her force in\ntrying to throw them out of the house, so that the mishap might be\nhidden from Ser Zambo, and from all the rest of the city as well.\n\nI have heard people say that in Rome there is a certain custom according\nto which, should the dead body of any stranger or pilgrim be found in\nthe public streets or in any man\u2019s house, it is straightway taken up by\ncertain scavengers[43] appointed for this purpose and carried by them\noutside the walls of the city and then cast into the Tiber, so that of\nsuch unfortunates nothing more is ever heard or seen. Now Madonna\nFelicetta, having gone to look out of the window to see whether by\nchance any friends of hers might be passing by who would lend aid in\ngetting rid of the two dead bodies, by good luck espied one of these\ncorpse-bearers, and called to him to come in, telling him that she had a\ncorpse in the house, and that she wanted him to take it away at once and\ncast it into the Tiber, according to the custom of the place. Already\nMadonna Felicetta had pulled out one of the corpses from under the cover\nof the trough, and had left it lying on the floor near thereto; so, when\nthe corpse-bearer had come upstairs, she helped him to load the dead\nbody on his shoulders, and bade him come back to the house after he had\nthrown it into the river, when she would pay him for his services.\nWhereupon the corpse-bearer went outside the city wall and threw the\nbody into the Tiber, and, having done his work, he returned to Madonna\nFelicetta and asked her to give him a florin, which was the customary\nguerdon. But while the corpse-bearer was engaged in carrying off the\nfirst body, Madonna Felicetta, who was a crafty dame, drew out from the\ntrough the other body and disposed it at the foot of the trough in\nexactly the same place where the first had lain, and when the\ncorpse-bearer came back to Madonna Felicetta for his payment, she said\nto him: \u2018Did you indeed carry the corpse I gave you to the Tiber?\u2019 And\nto this the fellow replied, \u2018I did, madonna.\u2019 \u2018Did you throw it into the\nriver?\u2019 said the dame; and he answered: \u2018Did I throw it in? indeed I\ndid, and in my best manner.\u2019 At this speech Madonna Felicetta said: \u2018How\ncould you have thrown it in, as you say you have? Just look and see\nwhether it be not still here.\u2019 And when the corpse-bearer saw the second\ndead body, he really thought it must be the one he had carried away, and\nwas covered with dismay and confusion; and, cursing and swearing the\nwhile, he hoisted it upon his shoulders, and, having carried it off, he\ncast it into the Tiber, and stood for a while to watch it as it floated\ndown the stream.[44] And whilst he was once more returning to Madonna\nFelicetta\u2019s house to receive his payment, it chanced that he met Ser\nZambo, who was on his way home, and when the corpse-bearer espied the\nman who bore so strong a likeness to the two other hunchbacks whom he\nhad carried to the Tiber, he flew into such a violent fit of rage that\nhe seemed, as it were, to spit forth fire and flames on all sides and\ngave a free rein to his passion. For in truth he deemed the fellow\nbefore him to be no other than the one whom he had already twice cast\ninto the river, and that he must be some evil spirit who was returning\nto his own place; so he stole softly behind Ser Zambo and dealt him a\ngrievous blow on the head with an iron winch which he carried in his\nhand, saying: \u2018Ah! you cowardly, villainous loon, do you think that I\nwant to spend the rest of my days in haling you to the river?\u2019 and as he\nthus railed he mishandled him so violently that poor Zambo, on account\nof the cudgelling he got, was soon a dead man and went to talk to\nPilate.[45]\n\nWhen the corpse-bearer had got upon his shoulders the third corpse,\nwhich was still warm, he bore it away and threw it into the Tiber after\nthe two others, and thus Zambo and Bertaz and Sant\u00ec miserably ended\ntheir lives. Madonna Felicetta, when she heard the news of this, was\ngreatly delighted thereat, and felt no small content that she was freed\nfrom all her hardships and might again enjoy her former liberty.\n\nMolino\u2019s fable here came to an end. It had pleased the ladies so\nmightily that they could not forbear from laughing thereat and talking\nit over. And although the Signora more than once bade them be silent,\nshe found it no easy matter to put an end to their merry laughter. At\nlast, in order to bring the company once more into a sedater mood, she\ncommanded Molino to set them to guess an enigma in the same dialect, and\nhe, ever ready to obey her, gave his riddle in the following words:\n\n                Out of their prison grave so dark\n                Arise the bones of dead men stark,\n                And \u2019twixt the hours of tierce and sext,\n                By signs will tell to mortals vext\n                What chance\u2019s smiles or frowns of fate\n                May bless or ban till time grows late.\n                Savage and deep the misers curse,\n                Marking the signs of chance averse;\n                But he, untouched by lust of gold,\n                Unmoved will fortune\u2019s freaks behold.\n                Next one with beard of flesh upsprings,\n                And beak of bone, and warning sings\n                To bid the watchers bury deep\n                Their bodies in a downy sleep,\n                And lie, poor fools by care unstirred,\n                On welcome boon of foolish bird.\n\nThough Molino\u2019s fable forsooth pleased the company much, this ingenious\nbut somewhat gruesome enigma diverted them yet more; but forasmuch as no\none had gathered any inkling of its meaning, the ladies with one voice\nbegged him earnestly that he should give the solution thereof in the\nsame dialect he had used in his narration. Molino, when he perceived\nthat this was the general wish of the company, in order that he might\nnot appear to be niggard of his gifts, solved the enigma in the\nfollowing terms: \u201cMy enigma, dear ladies, signifies the game of hazard,\nand the bones of the dead which leave their graves are the dice which\nfall out of the dice-box, and when they mark tray, deuce, and ace, these\nare the points which show good luck, and will not such points as these\nput spirit into the play and money into the purse of the man who often\nwins the throw thereby? Does the loser ever like to go away a loser, and\ndoes not all this come by the change and variations of fortune? The\navaricious player who always seeks to win will now and again curse and\nswear so fiercely that I cannot think why the earth does not open and\nswallow him up. And, at such times as the game goes on all through the\nnight, the cock, who has a beard of flesh and a beak of bone, will get\nup and crow \u2018Cock-a-doodle-do,\u2019 thus letting the gamesters know that it\nis past midnight and they ought to repair to their beds of goose down.\nWhen they lie in these is it not like sinking into a deep grave? Are you\nall content with this my explanation?\u201d\n\nThe explanation of this subtle enigma was received by the whole company\nwith great laughter; so hearty was it in sooth that they could scarce\nforbear from rolling about on their seats. And after the Signora had\ncommanded everyone to keep silent, she turned towards Molino and said:\n\u201cSignor Antonio, as the fair orb of Dian outshines all other stars, so\nthe fable just told to us by you, together with your enigma, bears off\nthe palm from all others which we have hitherto heard.\u201d Molino answered:\n\u201cThe praise you give me, Signora, cannot surely be due on account of my\nskill; it comes rather from the great courtesy which always abides in\nyou. But if it should happen that the Trevisan were willing to tell you\na story in the dialect of his country, I am sure you would listen to\nthis with still greater pleasure.\u201d The Signora, who desired greatly to\nhear a story told in this fashion, said: \u201cSignor Benedetto, do you hear\nwhat our Molino says? Certainly you would do him a great wrong were you\nto make false these words of his. Put, therefore, your hand in your\npouch and draw therefrom some peasant story to enliven us all.\u201d The\nTrevisan, to whom it appeared unseemly that he should occupy the place\nof Arianna, whose turn came next, at first excused himself, but seeing\nthat he could not weather[46] this point, began his fable in the\nfollowing words.\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n\n\n\n                           THE FOURTH FABLE.\n\n  =Marsilio Vercelese, being enamoured of Thia, the wife of Cechato\n      Rabboso, is taken by her into her house during her husband\u2019s\n      absence. He having come back unexpected, is cozened by Thia, who\n      feigns to work a spell, during which Marsilio silently takes to\n      flight.[47]=\n\n\nIn good sooth, what more would you have, my lady mistress and fair\ndamsels all? Has not Messer Antonio acquitted himself well? Has he not\ntold you an excellent story? But, by the blood of a dog, I will do my\nbest to match him, and to gather the best credit I may.\n\nWe villagers have always heard tell, that amongst gentlemen of the\nworld, one man will manage his affairs in this way, and another in that.\nBut I, who am an ignorant loon, and who know nothing of letters, tell\nyou what I have always heard said by our elders, namely, that he who\ndances badly raises the loudest laugh;[48] so if you will have patience,\nI will do my best to amuse you. But do not think that I say these words\nbecause I wish to escape the trouble of telling you a tale, for I am not\nin the least fearful on this score. And, over and beyond this, I would\nhave you understand that the story which Messer Antonio has told you,\nwith so good a grace that it would be hard to beat, has fired me with so\nmuch courage that now, when I see I am indeed launched on my task, it\nseems to me a thousand years until I shall be able to begin. Perhaps\nindeed this fable of mine will be no less pleasing and laughable than\nMesser Antonio\u2019s, especially as I purpose to tell you of the ingenuity\nof a peasant woman who played a trick upon her fool of a husband;\nwherefore, if you will listen to me and give me your kind attention, I\nwill tell it to you as well as I can.\n\nAbove the domain of Piove de Sacco, which is, as I need hardly tell you,\na territory of Padua, seeing that this must be well known to all of you,\nis situated a village called Salmazza, wherein there lived, a very long\ntime since, a peasant called Cechato Rabboso, who, although he was a\nfellow with a big head and body, was nevertheless a poor fool and\nover-trustful of his own powers. This Cechato Rabboso had to wife the\ndaughter of a farmer called Gagiardi, who lived in a village called\nCampelongo, and she was a wily, crafty, and mischievous young woman,\ncalled by the name of Thia. Besides being so shrewd, she was in her\nperson a stout wench and handsome of face, so that it was commonly said\nthere was not another peasant woman for miles round who could be\ncompared with her. And because she was so sprightly and nimble at\ncountry dances, the young gallants who saw her would not seldom lose\ntheir hearts to her straightway. Now it happened that a certain young\nman, who was himself handsome and of a sturdy figure, a prosperous\ncitizen of Padua, by name Marsilio Vercelese, became enamoured of this\nThia, and so ardently was he consumed by the flame of his love that\nwhenever she went to a village dance this youth would be sure to follow\nher thither, and for the greater part of the time he would dance with\nher, devoting himself entirely to her and never dancing with any other\nwoman. But although this young gallant was so fiercely enamoured of her,\nhe kept his love a secret as well as he could, so as not to let it be\nknown to anybody, nor to become a matter of common gossip to all the\nneighbours round about.\n\nMarsilio, knowing quite well that Cechato, Thia\u2019s husband, was a poor\nman, supporting his house by the work of his hands, and from the early\nmorning till late at night labouring hard, now at this, now at that\nwork, began to prowl about Thia\u2019s house, and, by constantly plying her\nwith soft glances, he soon found an opportunity of addressing her. Now,\nalthough Marsilio had determined in his mind to disclose the love which\nhe bore her, still he doubted whether she might not be angered and\nrefuse to see him again in case he should declare his passion, for it\ndid not seem to him that she looked upon him so kindly as he deserved,\nseeing how great was the love he had for her. And, besides this, he was\nafraid of being discovered by some malicious person who would caution\nCechato her husband, who on this account might very likely do him some\nevil turn; for Cechato, although he was such a numskull, was sharp\nenough to be jealous.\n\nMarsilio, therefore, spent his days in assiduously haunting the house\nwhere Thia lived, and he would gaze at her so long and so intently that\nat last she could not fail to be aware that he was enamoured of her.\nBut, for certain reasons best known to herself, she forbore to look\nfavourably upon him, or show that she was in any way inclined to return\nhis passion, and although she was in her secret mind quite willing to\nmeet his wishes, she feigned to be indifferent to him, and turned her\nback upon him.\n\nOne day it chanced that Thia was sitting all alone on a wooden bench\nplaced near the outer door of the house, and holding under her arm the\ndistaff on which some flax was wound\u2014she was, indeed, busy doing some\nspinning for her landlady\u2014when Marsilio, who had taken a little heart of\ngrace, came forward and said to her: \u2018God be with you, my friend Thia!\u2019\nAnd Thia answered: \u2018Welcome, young gentleman!\u2019 \u2018How is it that you do\nnot know,\u2019 said Marsilio, \u2018that I am consumed of love for you, and am\nlike to die, and you on your part make no account of it, and care not in\nthe least about my cruel sufferings?\u2019 To this Thia answered: \u2018How should\nI know whether you love me or not?\u2019 Said Marsilio: \u2018If you never knew it\nbefore, I will now let you know that such is my case, for I am consumed\nwith all the grief and passion that a man can feel.\u2019 And Thia answered\nhim: \u2018Well, of a surety you have let me know it now.\u2019 Then Marsilio\nsaid, \u2018And you? Ah, tell me the truth, by the faith you have! Do you\nlove me too?\u2019 Thia, with a smile, answered, \u2018Perhaps I love you a\nlittle.\u2019 Then said Marsilio, \u2018Heaven help you, tell me how much?\u2019 \u2018I\nlove you very much,\u2019 answered Thia. Then Marsilio cried, \u2018Alas, Thia! if\nyou really loved me as much as you say, you would show it to me by some\nsign, but I cannot believe that you love me at all.\u2019 Thia answered,\n\u2018Well, and what sign would you have me give you?\u2019 \u2018Oh, Thia!\u2019 said\nMarsilio, \u2018you know very well what is in my mind without my telling\nyou.\u2019 \u2018No, I cannot possibly know it unless you tell me,\u2019 said Thia.\nThen Marsilio replied, \u2018I will tell you if you will listen to me, and\nnot be angered.\u2019 Thia then answered, \u2018Say on, sir, for I promise you on\nmy soul that, if it is a good thing and not against my honour, I will\nnot be angered with you.\u2019 Then Marsilio said, \u2018Then, my love, when will\nyou give me the chance of holding you in my arms in lover\u2019s fashion?\u2019 \u2018I\nnow see clearly enough,\u2019 said Thia, \u2018that you are only deceiving me, and\nmaking a mock of me. How can I be fitted for you, who are a gentleman\nand a citizen of Padua, whilst I am a peasant of the village? You are\nrich, and I am poor; you are a signor, and I am a working woman; you can\nhave fine ladies to your taste, and I am of low condition. You are wont\nto walk gaily with your embroidered surcoat, and your bright-coloured\nhose, all worked with wool and silk, and I, as you see, have nought but\na dimity petticoat, old, torn, and mended. I have nothing better when I\ngo to dances than this old garment and this linen head-cloth. You eat\nwheaten loaves, and I rye-bread and beans and polenta, and even then I\nhave often not enough to satisfy my hunger. I have no pelisse for the\ncold winter, poor wretch that I am! nor do I know which way to turn to\nget one, for I have neither money nor goods to sell that will enable me\nto buy the few necessaries that I want. We have not enough corn to eat\nto keep us alive till Easter, and I know not what we shall do during the\ngreat dearth. And besides all this, there are the forced dues that we\nhave to pay to Padua every day. Oh, we poor peasants! what pleasure have\nwe in life? We toil hard to till the earth and to sow our wheat, which\nyou fine folk consume, whilst we poor people have to make the best shift\nwe can with rye-bread. We tend the vines and make the wine, of which you\ndrink the best, and we have to be satisfied with wine lees or water.\u2019\n\nIn answer to Thia\u2019s speech Marsilio said: \u2018Do not distress yourself on\naccount of this, for if you will grant me the favour I desire I will see\nthat you want for nothing that can give you delight.\u2019 Thia replied: \u2018Ah!\nthis is what you cavaliers always say until we have done your pleasure;\nthen you go away and we never see any more of you, and, fools as we are,\nare left in the lurch, deceived and duped and shamed in the world\u2019s\nesteem. You, meantime, go your ways, bragging of your good fortune and\nwashing out your mouths, as far as concerns us and all that belongs to\nus,[49] treating us as if we were carrion only fit to be cast out on the\ndunghill. I know full well the tricks you worthy citizens of Padua can\nplay.\u2019 Then said Marsilio: \u2018Enough, now let us have done with words for\ngood and all. I ask you once more whether you will grant me the favour I\ndesire?\u2019 \u2018Go away, for the love of God, I pray you,\u2019 cried Thia, \u2018before\nmy husband comes back, for nightfall is drawing near and he will\ncertainly be here in a few minutes. Come back some time to-morrow, and\nwe will talk as long as you will, for in sooth I love you well.\u2019 But\nMarsilio, who was indeed passionately in love with her, was loath to\nleave off this pleasant conversation, and still remained by her side; so\nshe said once more, \u2018Go away immediately, I beg you, and do not stay\nhere any longer.\u2019 When Marsilio saw that Thia was thus strongly moved,\nhe cried out, \u2018God be with you, Thia, my sweet soul! I recommend my\nheart to you, for it is surely in your keeping.\u2019 \u2018May God go with you,\ndearest hope of my life!\u2019 said Thia, \u2018I commend you to His care.\u2019 \u2018By\nHis good help,\u2019 said Marsilio, \u2018we will meet again to-morrow.\u2019 \u2018Very\nwell, let it be so,\u2019 said Thia; and with these words Marsilio took his\nleave.\n\nWhen the morrow had come Marsilio, to whom the time until he should once\nmore repair to Thia\u2019s house seemed a thousand years, went thither\nforthwith and found her busy in the garden digging and mulching round\nabout certain vines which grew therein, and as soon as they saw one\nanother they exchanged greetings and began to talk lovingly together.\nAnd when this conversation had gone on for some time Thia said to\nMarsilio: \u2018Dear heart of mine, to-morrow morning early Cechato my\nhusband will have occasion to go to the mill, and he will not return\nhither until the next day; wherefore, if it should be your pleasure, you\nmay come here late in the evening. I will be on the watch for you; only\nbe sure that you come without fail, and do not deceive me.\u2019 When\nMarsilio heard this good news, there was no man in all the world so\nhappy as he was; he jumped and danced about for very gladness, and took\nleave of Thia, half out of his wits for joy.\n\nAs soon as Cechato had come home, the crafty Thia went up to him and\nsaid, \u2018Cechato, my good man, you must needs go to the mill straightway,\nfor we have nothing more in the house to eat.\u2019 \u2018Very well, very well, I\nwill see about it,\u2019 answered Cechato. \u2018I tell you that you must go\nto-morrow, whatever happens,\u2019 said Thia. \u2018Very well, then,\u2019 replied\nCechato, \u2018to-morrow morning before I go I will borrow a cart with two\noxen from the people for whom I work, then I will come back to load it,\nand go off to the mill at once.\u2019\n\nIn the meantime Thia went to prepare the corn and to put it into sacks,\nso that on the morrow Cechato should have nothing to do but to load his\ncart therewith, and to go on his way singing. On the following morning\nCechato took the corn which his wife had put into sacks the night\nbefore, and loaded it on the cart and went on his way towards the mill.\nAnd seeing that it was now the season of short days and long nights, and\nthat the roads were broken up and in bad condition, and that the weather\nwas foul with rain and ice and intense cold, poor Cechato found himself\nobliged to remain that night at the mill, and this in sooth fell in most\nopportunely with the plans that Thia and Marsilio had devised for their\nown satisfaction.\n\nAs soon as the dark night had fallen, Marsilio, according to the\nagreement he had made with Thia, took a pair of fine well-cooked capons\nand some white bread and wine unspoilt by any drop of water therein, all\nof which he had carefully prepared before he left his home, and stole\nsecretly across the fields to Thia\u2019s house. Then, having opened the\ndoor, he found her sitting by the fireside winding thread. After\ngreeting one another they spread the table and both sat down to eat, and\nafter they had made an excellent meal off Marsilio\u2019s good cheer, they\nwent to lie down in the bed; thus, whilst that poor fool of a Cechato\nwas having his corn ground at the mill, in his bed at home Marsilio was\nsifting flour.\n\nWhen the time of sunrise was near, and the day was beginning to break,\nthe two lovers awoke and rose from their bed, fearing lest Cechato might\nreturn and find them there together; but while they were still amorously\ntalking, Cechato drew near to the house, whistling aloud the while, and\ncalling upon Thia, saying: \u2018Oh, my Thia! make up a good fire, I pray\nyou, for I am more than half dead with cold.\u2019 Thia, who was a clever,\nartful minx, was somewhat frightened when she heard her husband\u2019s voice,\nand feared amain lest some evil should befall Marsilio, and injury and\nshame be put upon herself; so she quickly opened the door, managing the\nwhile to allow Marsilio to hide himself behind it; then with a merry\nface she ran to meet her husband, and began to embrace him. And after\nCechato had come into the courtyard, he cried out once more to his wife:\n\u2018Make a fire at once, good Thia, for I am wellnigh frozen to death. By\nthe blood of St. Quintin, I was almost starved to death by cold last\nnight up at that mill; so cold was it, indeed, that I was not able to\nsleep a wink or even to close an eye.\u2019 Whereupon Thia went without delay\nto the wood-house, and having taken therefrom a good armful of billets\nshe lighted a fire whereat Cechato might warm himself, herself occupying\ncraftily that spot by the hearth from whence Marsilio might perchance be\nseen by Cechato.\n\nThen Thia, chatting with her husband of this and of that, said: \u2018Ah!\nCechato, my good man, I have a fine bit of news to give you.\u2019 \u2018What has\nhappened?\u2019 inquired Cechato. To this Thia replied, \u2018Whilst you were away\nat the mill a poor old man came to the house begging alms of me for the\nlove of God, and as a recompense for some bread I gave him to eat and a\nsmall cup of wine, he taught me an incantation wherewith to throw a\nspell over that greedy kite which often comes hereabouts, and never in\nmy life have I heard anything more beautiful than his words, which I\nhave learnt well by heart.\u2019 \u2018What is this thing you are telling me?\u2019\nsaid Cechato; \u2018is it really the truth?\u2019 Thia replied, \u2018It is true, by my\nfaith, and I can tell you that I set great store by it.\u2019 \u2018Then tell it\nto me at once,\u2019 said Cechato, \u2018and do not hold me longer in suspense.\u2019\nWhereupon Thia said to her husband, \u2018You must lie down flat on the\nground stretched out your full length, just as if you were dead (which\nthing may God avert!), and having done this you must turn your head and\nyour shoulders towards the door, and your knees and feet towards the\nstove, and then I must spread a white cloth over your face, and put our\ncorn measure over your head.\u2019\n\n\u2018But I am quite sure,\u2019 said Cechato, \u2018that my head will never go into\nour corn measure.\u2019 \u2018I am sure it will,\u2019 replied Thia; \u2018just look here!\u2019\nAnd with these words she took the measure, which happened to be close at\nhand, and put it over his head, saying, \u2018Nothing in God\u2019s world could be\na better fit than this. And now you must keep yourself quite still,\nneither moving a limb nor saying a word, otherwise we shall be able to\ndo nothing. Then I will take our tamis sieve in my hand, and will begin\nto jump and dance around you, and whilst I am thus dancing I will speak\nthe incantation which the old man taught me. And in this fashion the\nspell may be well and truly worked. But again I tell you that you must\non no account stir a finger until I shall have repeated the incantation\nthrice, for it must be said three times over you in order that it may\nhave any effect. After this we shall see whether the kite gives us any\nmore trouble, or comes to steal our chicken.\u2019 To this Cechato replied:\n\u2018Would to God that what you say might be true, so that we might have a\nlittle rest and breathing space. You know well enough how hard we find\nit to bring up any chicken at all, on account of that fiend of a kite\nwhich devours every one we hatch. Never have we been able to rear enough\nchicken to sell, and with the money gained thereby to pay our landlord\nand the tax-gatherer, and to buy oil and salt and any other stores we\nmay want for housekeeping.\u2019\n\n\u2018Let us begin quickly then,\u2019 said Thia, \u2018for in this fashion we shall be\nable to do ourselves a good turn. Now, Cechato, lie down quickly.\u2019 And\nCechato straightway laid himself down on the floor. \u2018Now stretch\nyourself out well to your full length,\u2019 said Thia. And Cechato at once\ndid his best to stretch himself out as far as ever he could. \u2018That is\nright,\u2019 said Thia, and hereupon she took a cloth of thick white linen\nand shrouded his face therewith. Next she took the corn measure and\nrammed it down on his head, and then caught up the tamis sieve and began\nto dance and skip around him and to repeat in the following wise the\nincantation which she said had been taught her by the old beggar:\n\n                 Thievish bird, I charge you well,\n                 Hearken to my mystic spell.\n                 While I dance and wave my sieve,\n                 All my tender chicks shall live.\n                 Not a bird from all my hatch,\n                 Thievish rascal, shall you snatch.\n                 Wolf nor rat his prey shall seek,\n                 Nor bird with sharp and crooked beak.\n                 Thieves who stand behind the door,\n                 Hearken, fly, and come no more.\n                 If my speech you cannot read,\n                 Surely you are fools indeed.\n\nWhen Thia had come to the end of her mummery she still went on dancing\nround Cechato, keeping her eyes fixed upon the outer door the while, and\nmaking signs to Marsilio, who was there concealed, that he had better\nrun away at once. But Marsilio, who was neither nimble-minded nor quick\nto catch her meaning, failed to comprehend what might be the purport of\nthe gestures she was making or what she meant by going through these\nrites of exorcism; so he kept still in his hiding-place and did not\nbudge an inch. Meantime Cechato, being now half stifled and mightily\nweary of lying stretched out on the floor, was anxious to get up, and\nspake thus to Thia: \u2018Well, is it all over now?\u2019 But Thia, who had not\nbeen able to induce Marsilio to move from his place behind the door,\nanswered Cechato in these words: \u2018Stay where you are, for heaven\u2019s sake,\nand move not at your peril. Did I not tell you that I should have to\nrepeat the incantation three times? I hope you may not have wrecked\neverything, as it is, by wanting to get up.\u2019 \u2018No, no, surely not,\u2019 said\nCechato. And Thia made him lie down stretched out as he was before, and\nbegan to chant her incantation anew.\n\n[Illustration: The Conjuration of the Kite]\n\nNow by this time Marsilio had at last come to understand how matters\nreally stood, and what was the meaning of Thia\u2019s mummery, so he seized\nthe opportunity to slip out from his hiding-place, and to run away as\nfast as his legs could carry him. Thia, when she saw Marsilio take to\nhis heels and run out of the courtyard, finished her form of exorcism\nagainst the kite, and when she had brought it to an end she suffered her\ncuckoldly fool of a husband to get up from the ground. Then with Thia\u2019s\nhelp he began forthwith to unload the flour which he had brought back\nfrom the mill. Now Thia when she went with Cechato outside into the\ncourtyard to help unload the flour, saw Marsilio in the distance\nhurrying away at the top of his speed, whereupon she began to shout\nafter him in a lusty voice: \u2018Ah, ah! what a wicked bird! Ah, ah! begone,\nget away! For, by my faith, I will send you packing with your tail\nbetween your legs if ever you show yourself here again. Away then, I\ntell you! Is not he a greedy wretch? Do you not see that the wicked\nbeast was bent on coming back? Heaven give him a bad year!\u2019\n\nAnd in this fashion it happened, that every time the kite came and flew\ndown into the courtyard to carry away a chick or two, he would first\nhave a bout with the hen herself,[50] who would afterwards set to work\nwith her conjuration as before. Then he would take to flight with his\ntail down, but all the while the fowls belonging to Cechato and Thia\nsuffered no damage at all from his harrying.\n\nThis fable, given by the Trevisan, was found to be so mirthful and\namusing that the ladies, and the gentlemen as well, almost split their\nsides with laughter; so well did he mock the rustic speech that there\nwas no one of the company who would not have judged him to be a peasant\nof Treviso. And when the merriment had abated somewhat, the Signora\nturned her fair face towards the Trevisan and spake to him thus: \u201cIn\ntruth, Signor Benedetto, you have this evening diverted us in such\nfeatly wise that with one voice we declare your fable may deservedly be\nheld to be the equal of Molino\u2019s in merit. But to fill up the measure of\nmy content and that of this honourable company, I entreat you\u2014an it\ndisplease you not\u2014that you will set forth to us an enigma which shall be\nas graceful in form as amusing in matter.\u201d The Trevisan, when he saw how\nthe Signora was inclined, was unwilling to disappoint her; so, standing\nup, with a clear voice and with no hesitation of any sort, he began his\nriddle in the following words:\n\n                Sir Yoke goes up and down the field,\n                To every tug is forced to yield.\n                One on the left, one on the right\n                Plods on, and next there comes a wight,\n                A cunning rascal who with power\n                Beats one who goes on carriers four.\n                Now if an answer you can give,\n                Good friends, we will for ever live.\n\nWhen the Trevisan, with the true manner and bearing of a peasant, had\nfinished his enigma, which was comprehended by few or none of the\ncompany, he thus gave the interpretation thereof in peasant dialect in\norder that its meaning might be made clear to them all: \u201cI must not keep\nthis gentle company waiting any longer. Tell me, do you understand the\nmeaning of my enigma? If you do not know, I will tell you. Sir Yoke goes\nto and fro, that is to say, the yoke, to which the oxen are attached,\ngoes up and down the fields and roads, and is dragged hither and thither\nby them. Those who fare, the one on this side and the other on that side\nof it, are the oxen. He who beats one who stands on four, means that the\nploughman who walks behind lashes the bull, who has four legs, with his\nleathern whip. And to end my explanation, I tell you once more that the\nanswer to my riddle is the yoke, and I hope you will all understand it.\u201d\n\nEveryone was greatly interested over this riddle dealing with country\nlife, and, laughing heartily thereat, they praised it highly. But the\nTrevisan, remembering that only one more story remained to be told this\nnight, to wit, that of the charming Cateruzza, turned with a smiling\nface towards the Signora and spake thus: \u201cSignora, it is not for the\nreason that I wish to disturb the settled order of this our\nentertainment, or to dictate to your highness, my mistress and sovereign\nlady, but merely to satisfy the desire of this devoted company, that I\nbeg your excellency to make us the sharers of some fair fancies of your\nown, by telling us, for our delight and recreation, a story with your\nwonted grace. And if I peradventure have been more presumptuous (which\nGod forbid) in making this request than is suitable to my humble estate,\nI beg you will forgive me, seeing that the love I bear towards this\ngracious assembly has been the chief cause why I have been led to prefer\nit.\u201d\n\nThe Signora, when she heard the courteous petition of the Trevisan, at\nfirst cast her eyes down upon the ground; not, however, for any fear or\nshame that she felt, but because she deemed that, for divers reasons, it\nwas more seemly for her to listen than to discourse. But after a time,\nwith a gracious and smiling look, as if her humour were a merry one, she\nturned her bright face towards the Trevisan and said: \u201cSignor Benedetto,\nwhat though your request is a pleasant and seemly one, it appears to me\nthat you are somewhat too insistent a beggar, forasmuch as the duty of\nstory-telling pertains rather to these young damsels round about than to\nme; therefore you must hold me excused if I decline to give way at once\nto your demand, and bid Cateruzza, who has been chosen by lot to tell\nthe fifth story of this evening, to favour you with her discourse.\u201d The\nmerry listeners, who were mightily eager to hear the Signora tell her\nstory, forthwith all rose to their feet and began to support the request\nof the Trevisan, begging her most earnestly that she would in this\nmatter favour them with her courtesy and kindness, and not stand too\nseverely by the exalted dignity of her position, for time and place will\nallow anyone, however high in rank, to speak freely whatever thing may\nbe pleasing. The Signora, when she heard the gentle loving terms of this\npetition, in order that she might not seem ungracious in her bearing,\nsmilingly replied: \u201cSince this is the wish of all of you, and your\npleasure withal, that I should conclude this evening with some little\nstory of my own, I will gladly grant your wish.\u201d And without further\ndemur she blithely began to tell her fable.\n\n\n\n\n                            THE FIFTH FABLE.\n\n  =Madonna Modesta, wife of Messer Tristano Zanchetto, in her young days\n      gathers together a great number of shoes, offerings made by her\n      various lovers. Having grown old, she disposes of the same to\n      divers servants, varlets, and other folk of mean estate.=\n\n\nIt commonly happens that ill-gotten wealth, and indeed all riches which\nhave been acquired by evil ways, are scattered abroad and dissipated in\nbrief space of time, for by the divine will it has been decreed that,\nquickly as such riches come, quickly they shall depart. This, indeed,\nproved to be the case with a certain woman of Pistoia, who, had she been\nhonest and wise in the same degree as she was dissolute and foolish,\nwould never have given occasion for the story which I am now about to\ntell to you. And although perhaps this fable of mine is one hardly\nsuitable for your ears, forasmuch as it comes to an end in a picture of\nshame and dishonour, which obscures and tarnishes the fame of those who\nlive honest lives, nevertheless I will not hesitate to relate it to you,\nfor at the right time and place it may serve (I speak here to those to\nwhom it may apply) as a useful incentive for all to pursue the ways of\nuprightness and well-doing, and to eschew all wicked courses and lewd\ninclinations.\n\nI must first tell this worshipful company that, not far from these our\ndays, there lived in Pistoia, an ancient city of Tuscany, a young woman\ncalled by name Madonna Modesta, but this name, on account of her\nreprehensible manner of life and the shameful courses she followed, was\none in no wise befitting her. In person, indeed, this woman was very\nlovely and graceful, though she was of mean condition.\n\nShe had a husband called Tristano Zanchetto[51] (a name as well suited\nto him as his wife\u2019s was unfitting to her), a good-tempered fellow,\ngiven to merry company, and thinking of little else save of his business\nof buying and selling, whereby he gained a good living for himself.\nMadonna Modesta, who was by nature of a lecherous temper, and inclined\nfor nought else but amorous sport, when she saw that her husband was\ngiven up heart and soul to commerce, and careful only about the matters\nappertaining thereto, took it into her head that she too would embark in\nmerchandise and set up a new trade, concerning which her husband, Messer\nTristano, should know nothing.\n\nWherefore every day she was wont to go out upon the balcony for her\namusement, now on one side, now on the other, and throw glances at any\ngallant who might be passing in the street, and when her eye might\nchance to fall upon anyone whose appearance pleased her, she would\nstrive by divers suggestive signs and gestures to arouse his curiosity\nand desire, and to lure him to her. And in the course of time it proved\nthat Madonna Modesta had no mean skill in the art of traffic; indeed, so\ndiligent was she in the display of her merchandise, and so carefully did\nshe attend to the needs of her customers, that there was to be found in\nall the city no one, rich or poor, noble or plebeian, who was not\nanxious to take and taste of her goods. When, therefore, Madonna Modesta\nhad attained a position of great notoriety in her calling, and had\ngathered together much wealth thereby, she made up her mind to exact\nonly a very small guerdon from anyone who might come to her as a\nclaimant for her favours. That is to say, she made it her custom to\ndemand from her lovers no greater reward than a pair of shoes,\nstipulating, however, that each one should give shoes of a sort such as\nhe might in an ordinary way wear himself. Thus, if the lover who had\nbeen with her happened to be a noble, she would expect from him a pair\nof velvet shoes; if a burgher, she would ask for a pair of shoes made of\nfine cloth; if a mechanic, a pair made of leather. So great a concourse\nof clients flocked to this good woman\u2019s place of business that it was\nrarely or never empty, and seeing that she was young and beautiful and\nof fine figure, seeing likewise that the price which she demanded for\nher favours was such a modest one, all the men of Pistoia freely\nrepaired to her house and took their pleasure therein. At the time of\nwhich I am writing, Madonna Modesta had already filled a very large\nstorehouse with shoes, the wealth she had gathered together in her\ntender amorous calling, and so mighty was the tale of shoes of every\nsort and quality, that if any man here in Venice had searched diligently\nevery shop in the city he would not have found a third part of the\nnumber of shoes which Madonna Modesta had heaped up in her storehouse.\n\nIt happened one day that Messer Tristano her husband had need to use\nthis same storehouse for the stowing away of certain chattels and\nmerchandise which by chance had been consigned to him at the same time\nfrom divers parts of the world; so, having called Madonna Modesta his\nbeloved wife, he asked her to hand over to him the keys of the\nwarehouse. And she, like the crafty jade that she was, presented them to\nhim without excuse of any sort; and the husband, when he opened the\nstorehouse, which he expected would be empty, found it quite full of\nshoes (as has already been told) of divers qualities. When he saw this\nhe was mightily astonished thereat, and could in no wise understand\nwhence had come this great quantity of shoes of all sorts; so, having\ncalled his wife, he put a question to her as to where these shoes with\nwhich his warehouse was filled had come from. To this the astute Madonna\nModesta answered in these words: \u2018What think you of this, good Messer\nTristano my husband? Did you in sooth set yourself down as the only\nmerchant in this city? Certes, if you did, you were hugely mistaken, for\nbe sure that we women likewise know somewhat concerning the art of\ntraffic; and, although you may be a great merchant, accustomed to\nconcern yourself with many and weighty ventures, I content myself with\ncommerce on a smaller scale. Wherefore I have stored my merchandise in\nthis warehouse, and put it safely under lock and key in order that it\nmay be kept secure. So I beg you to keep your care and watchfulness for\nthe benefit of your own goods and your own traffic, and I will do the\nsame with regard to mine.\u2019 Messer Tristano, who knew nothing more than\nwhat his wife told him, and asked no further questions, was gratified\namain with the exceeding ingenuity and great foresight of his clever and\nfar-seeing wife, and besought her to prosecute with diligence the\nenterprise she had undertaken. Madonna Modesta therefore continued in\nsecret to carry on her amorous trade, and, as in the exercise thereof\nshe prospered mightily, she gathered together so vast a store of shoes\nthat she could have easily supplied the wants not only of Pistoia, but\nof any other great city as well.\n\nThus whilst Madonna Modesta remained young and full of grace and beauty\nher trade showed no sign of falling off. But in the process of years\ncruel Time, the master of all things and all men, who fixes ever a\nbeginning, a middle, and an end for all, so dealt with Madonna Modesta,\nwho had been heretofore fresh and plump and lovely, that he changed the\nsemblance of her face, and of her hair[52] likewise\u2014leaving her desire\nunsubdued the while\u2014and traced many wrinkles upon her forehead, and\ndisfigured her countenance. Her eyes became rheumy and her breasts all\ndry and empty as shrivelled bladders, and whenever she happened to smile\nthe skin of her face became so puckered that anyone who looked at her\nwas fain to laugh and hold her in ridicule. And when the time came that\nMadonna Modesta was grown old and grey-headed, and lovers no longer\nsought her to pay court to her as formerly, she found that she added no\nmore shoes to her store, and she lamented bitterly in her heart\nthereanent. From the first years of her youth until the present hour she\nhad given herself over entirely to the vice of luxury, the destructive\nenemy of the body and of the purse as well, and she had likewise become\nmore accustomed to dainty living and libidinous life than any other\nwoman in the world, therefore she could find no method or means by which\nshe might withdraw herself from these noxious ways. And although in her\nbody, from day to day, the vital fluid, through which all plants and\nliving things take root and grow, failed more and more, nevertheless the\ndesire of satisfying her wicked and unrestrained appetite was as violent\nas ever. Therefore Madonna Modesta, seeing that she was entirely bereft\nof youthful beauty, and was no longer one to be flattered and caressed\nby handsome young gallants as in former days, made up her mind to order\nher plans anew. For the furtherance of these she once more went out upon\nthe balcony, and began to ogle and to spread her lures to catch any\nvarlets or porters or peasants or chimney-sweepers or idle fellows of\nany sort, who might be passing by, and any of these whom she might\nattract she would entice into her house for her own purposes, and with\nthem take such pleasure as she had hitherto been wont to take. And as in\ntimes past she had always demanded from each one of her lovers a pair of\nshoes of a quality according with the donor\u2019s condition as the reward\nfor her favours granted, now, on the other hand, she found herself\nobliged to give a pair of shoes from her stock to anyone who would come\nto her. Madonna Modesta had now sunk into such a shameful state that all\nthe lowest ruffians of Pistoia would betake themselves to her dwelling,\nsome to have their pleasure of her, others to make mock of her and to\nbefool her, and others to receive the disgraceful guerdon which she was\nwont to give.\n\nIn this manner of life pursued by Madonna Modesta, it came to pass that\nthe storehouse, which had once been crammed full of shoes, became\nwellnigh void. Messer Tristano one day, having a mind to go by stealth\nand see how his wife was prospering in her commerce, and whether her\nstore of merchandise was increasing, took the key of the warehouse\nwithout his wife\u2019s knowledge and opened the door, only to find, when he\nlooked in, that nearly all the shoes were gone. Wherefore Messer\nTristano was beyond measure amazed, for he could not understand how his\nwife could have disposed of the many pairs of shoes he had formerly seen\nthere. On this account he began to fancy that by this time his wife\nmust, as it were, be made of gold by reason of her prosperous traffic,\nand he felt himself mightily consoled at the thought; for he deemed that\nhe might hereafter be a sharer in her wealth. So he straightway called\nher to him and thus addressed her: \u2018Modesta, I have always rated you as\na wise and prudent woman, but this day I chanced to open your\nstorehouse, wishing to see how your commerce was thriving, and deeming\nthat by this time your stock of shoes must have greatly increased, but I\nfound, instead of any increase, that your wares had nearly all\ndisappeared. At first I was mightily astonished thereat, but afterwards\nit came into my mind that you must have trafficked them away and\nreceived therefor a great sum of money, whereupon I was greatly\nreassured, and if this notion of mine should prove to be correct I shall\nhold that you have traded at great profit.\u2019\n\nMadonna Modesta, when her husband had finished his speech, heaved a deep\nsigh and thus made answer to him: \u2018Messer Tristano, my husband, do not\nbe amazed at what you have lately seen, for I must tell you that all\nthose shoes you saw some long time ago in my warehouse, have walked away\nin the same fashion in which they came to me. And over and above this\nlet me tell you that those things which are ill got will, for the most\npart, ill go in a very brief space of time. Therefore I bid you once\nmore not to wonder or be surprised at what you have seen.\u2019 Messer\nTristano, who did not in any way fathom the meaning of his wife\u2019s words,\nfell into a great state of fright and confusion, fearing hugely lest a\nsimilar mischance might befall the goods and merchandise he himself had\ncollected. However, he forbore to discuss the matter with her farther,\nbut bestirred himself anxiously to see that his own merchandise might\nnot vanish as his wife\u2019s had vanished.\n\nMadonna Modesta finding herself now slighted by men of all sorts and\nconditions, and entirely beggared of all the shoes she had gained in the\ncourse of her lecherous youth, fell into a grave malady, and in a very\nbrief space of time died miserably of consumption. And in this manner\nMadonna Modesta, who took so little heed for the future, made a shameful\nend of her life and also of the possessions she had gathered together,\nleaving nothing behind her to serve as an example to the rest of the\nworld, but rather a disgraceful memory.\n\nWhen the Signora had ended her short fable all the company began to\nlaugh aloud, and heaped abundant blame upon Madonna Modesta, who lived\nmoderately enough in all things save only in the matter of lecherous\nindulgence. And again they could not help laughing when they recalled to\nmind the story of the shoes which were so easily got and so easily\nspent. But because it was on Cateruzza\u2019s account that the Trevisan had\nurged the Signora to tell this fable, the latter now began to spur on\nthe damsel with words which, though gently spoken, had a sting therein,\nand afterwards, as a penalty for having failed to tell her fable,\nexpressly commanded Cateruzza to propound an enigma which should not be\nirrelevant to the subject of the fable they had just heard. Whereupon\nCateruzza, when she heard the command of the Signora, rose from her\nseat, and turning herself towards her spake thus: \u201cDear Signora, the\nbiting rebukes which you have just addressed to me are not in any way\ndispleasing to me; on the contrary, I gladly take them home to myself\nwith my whole heart. But the task of making my enigma agree in some\nmeasure with the fable you have just told us is no light one, seeing\nthat I am entirely unprepared. Since, however, it pleases you to punish\nin this fashion my fault, if indeed it be a fault, I, as an obedient\ngirl and your most complaisant handmaiden, will begin at once.\n\n                 My lady seats her in a chair,\n                 And raises then her skirt with care;\n                 And as I know she waits for me,\n                 I bring her what she fain would see.\n                 Then soft I lift her dainty leg,\n                 Whereon she cries, \u2018Hold, hold, I beg!\n                 It is too strait, and eke too small;\n                 Be gentle, or you\u2019ll ruin all.\u2019\n                 And so to give her smallest pain,\n                 I try once more, and eke again.\u201d\n\nThe enigma told by Cateruzza provoked as great laughter as the ingenious\nfable which the Signora had recently given; but, for the reason that\ncertain of the listeners put thereupon a somewhat lewd interpretation,\nshe set herself at once to make the honesty of her intent clear to them\nin as civil terms as she could use: \u201cNoble ladies, the real subject of\nmy enigma is nothing greater or less than a tight shoe; for when the\nlady has sat down, the shoemaker, with the shoe in his hand, raises her\nfoot, whereupon she tells him to put the shoe on gently, as it is too\ntight, and causes her much pain. Then he takes it off and puts it on\nagain and again till it fits her well, and she is content therewith.\u201d\n\nWhen the explication of Cateruzza\u2019s enigma had been brought to an end\nand highly praised by the whole company, the Signora, seeing that the\nhour was now late, gave order that under pain of her displeasure no one\nshould leave the place, and, having bidden them summon into her presence\nthe trusty steward of the household, she directed him to set out the\ntables in the great hall. And while the feast was in course of\npreparation she proposed that the ladies and gentlemen should divert\nthemselves with the dance, and, after the dancing was finished, they\nsang two songs. Then the Signora rose to her feet and went into the\nsupper room, having the Signor Ambassador on one hand and Messer Pietro\nBembo on the other, the rest of the company following in their due\norder. And when they had all washed their hands, each one sat down\naccording to his rank at the table, which was richly spread with rare\nand delicate dishes and new wines. When this merry feast had come to end\namidst the loving discourse of the guests, each one being in blither\nmood than ever, they rose from the board and forthwith began to sing and\ndance in a circle. But forasmuch as the rosy light of dawn was now\nbeginning to appear, the Signora bade the servants to kindle the torches\nand go in attendance on the Signor Ambassador as far as the steps,\nhaving first begged him and all the others to return to the\nmeeting-place at the appointed hour.\n\n\n                     =The End of the Fifth Night.=\n\n[Illustration: [Fleuron]]\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 1:\n\n  \u201cIstoria della volgar poesia\u201d (Ven. 1731).\n\nFootnote 2:\n\n  In 1556 the two parts were first issued bearing the same date, but\n  with a different title-page.\n\nFootnote 3:\n\n  To add to the confusion, the English translator of Grimm gives\n  \u201cstories\u201d as the equivalent for \u201cM\u00e4rchen.\u201d\n\nFootnote 4:\n\n  M. Jannet in his preface to the \u201cFac\u00e9tieuses Nuits de Straparole\u201d\n  (Paris, 1857), says he has not been able to find a copy of this work\n  in any library. There is one in the British Museum, under the title,\n  \u201cOpera nova da Zoan Francesco Streparola da Caravazo novam\u0113te stampata\n  Sonetti CXV., Strabotti XXXV., Epistole VII., Capitoli XII.\u201d (Ven.\n  1508, per Georgio de Ruschoni).\n\nFootnote 5:\n\n  The \u201cDecameron\u201d did not reach its sixteenth edition till fifty years\n  after its first publication.\n\nFootnote 6:\n\n  In his introduction to the recent edition of Painter, Mr. Joseph\n  Jacobs cites the presence of this fable as an argument that Painter\n  must occasionally have translated directly from the Italian. There is\n  no reason, however, why he should not have used Louveau\u2019s work.\n\nFootnote 7:\n\n  It was published with seven other stories in a volume, \u201cNovelle otto\n  rarissime stampate a spese de Signor Giacomo conte de Clambrassil, J.\n  Stanley, et Wogan Browne. Londra, Giacomo Edwards, 1790.\u201d\n\nFootnote 8:\n\n  Brackelmann says that it was a selection from the first six nights,\n  while Grimm maintains that it contains the whole of these, and Grimm\u2019s\n  English translator says that it \u201conly contains six stories.\u201d In fact,\n  it is made up chiefly of the contents of the first six nights, but in\n  addition to these it contains fables from Nights VII., VIII., and\n  XIII. It would appear that neither Dunlop nor Schmidt knew of the\n  existence of this work.\n\nFootnote 9:\n\n  Night IV., Fable I.; Night IV., Fable III.; Night V., Fable III., and\n  Night XII., Fable III.\n\nFootnote 10:\n\n  Night V., Fable I.\n\nFootnote 11:\n\n  In the National Gallery.\n\nFootnote 12:\n\n  _Di che le donne, et parimente gli huomini fecero si gran risa che\n  ancora ridono._\n\nFootnote 13:\n\n  Night VII., Fable II.\n\nFootnote 14:\n\n  Night IV., Fable V.\n\nFootnote 15:\n\n  Night VIII., Fable V.\n\nFootnote 16:\n\n  Night X., Fable IV.\n\nFootnote 17:\n\n  Night VII., Fable I.\n\nFootnote 18:\n\n  \u201cDie XIII. n\u00e4chtlichen Erz\u00e4hlungen sammt den Logogryphen welche\n  Argellati, \u2018ingeniosissime conflata quamvis parum pudice,\u2019 nennt\n  wurden zu Rom durch das Decret vom 16ten Dec. 1605, einigen darin\n  enthaltenen unz\u00fcchtigen Stellen wegen verbothen\u201d (preface to Vienna\n  translation, 1791). The book must have been condemned by the index\n  some time before this, as the issue of 1604, Ven., \u201ccon licenza de\u2019\n  Superiori\u201d is rigorously castrated.\n\nFootnote 19:\n\n  \u201cMa ben holle fedelmente scritte secondo il modo, che furono da dieci\n  damigelle nel concistorio raccontate.\u201d\u2014STRAPAROLA, _Introduction to\n  Book II_.\n\nFootnote 20:\n\n  Orig., _ed importar altro, che finocchi_.\n\nFootnote 21:\n\n  Orig., _altrimenti si guasterebbe la coda al fasiano_.\n\nFootnote 22:\n\n  Orig., _cominciorono macinare \u00e0 raccolta_.\n\nFootnote 23:\n\n  Orig., _essendo da suoi servi senza pettine oltra modo carminato_.\n\nFootnote 24:\n\n  Orig., _infilzar perle al scuro_.\n\nFootnote 25:\n\n  Orig., _gli tronc\u00f2 la strada_.\n\nFootnote 26:\n\n  Orig., _tra se stesso se radeva_.\n\nFootnote 27:\n\n  Orig., _che se io potr\u00f2 rendervi il contra cambio non star\u00f2 a\n  dormire_.\n\nFootnote 28:\n\n  Orig., _credonsi signare il fronte \u00e0 se stessi cavano gli occhi_.\n\nFootnote 29:\n\n  Orig., _pane per schiacciata_.\n\nFootnote 30:\n\n  Orig., _le render\u00f2 gnanf per gnaf_.\n\nFootnote 31:\n\n  Orig., _stento per non stentare_.\n\nFootnote 32:\n\n  Orig., _cuocersi nel suo unto_.\n\nFootnote 33:\n\n  Pietro Bembo.\n\nFootnote 34:\n\n  Told in the dialect of Bergamo.\n\nFootnote 35:\n\n  Orig., _e ixi rom\u00e0 co li ma pieni de moschi_.\n\nFootnote 36:\n\n  Orig., _con sarevef \u00e0 di tre penduletti sgonfi de dre_.\n\nFootnote 37:\n\n  _i.e._, a famished wolf.\n\nFootnote 38:\n\n  Orig., _anch ella no tira le calzi_.\n\nFootnote 39:\n\n  Orig., _e dal dichg al fahg se fe le nozzi_.\n\nFootnote 40:\n\n  Orig., _una mostazzada si fatta in sol mostaz, che la fe and\u00e0\n  d\u2019inturem_.\n\nFootnote 41:\n\n  Orig., _e fag una pellizza de tanti bastonadi, quanti la ne pos mai\n  port\u00e0, e la lass\u00e0 quasi per morta_.\n\nFootnote 42:\n\n  Orig., _che ti romagnis con le ma pieni de moschi_.\n\nFootnote 43:\n\n  Orig., _picegamort_.\n\nFootnote 44:\n\n  Orig., _anda a segonda_.\n\nFootnote 45:\n\n  Orig., _se n\u2019anda a parla a Pilat_.\n\nFootnote 46:\n\n  Orig., _schiffare tal scoglio_.\n\nFootnote 47:\n\n  Told in the dialect of Treviso.\n\nFootnote 48:\n\n  Orig., _chi mal balla, ben solazza_.\n\nFootnote 49:\n\n  Orig., _V\u2019ande laldando, e lavando la bocca di fatti nuostri_,.\n\nFootnote 50:\n\n  Orig., _in prima el se spellatava con la chiozza_.\n\nFootnote 51:\n\n  _Zanchetto_, _zannetto_, a buffoon, a zany.\n\nFootnote 52:\n\n  Orig., _e mut\u00f2 le usate penne_. The use of _penne_ or _piume_ for\n  _capelli_ is not uncommon. Thus in Dante, \u201cChe riavesse le maschile\n  penne\u201d (_Inferno_, xx.); \u201cMovendo quell\u2019 oneste piume\u201d (_Purgatorio_,\n  i.).\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n                          TRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES\n\n\n \u25cf Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.\n \u25cf Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last\n     chapter.\n \u25cf Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.\n \u25cf Enclosed blackletter font in =equals=.","title":"The nights of Straparola, volume 1 [of 2]","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":124030}