you that have saide the Prayer, or I that never used it at all. But
I must not deny, that in sted thereof, I have made use of some verses;
as Dirupisti, or the Intemerata, or De profundis, which are (as my
Grandmother hath often told mee) of very great vertue and efficacy.
Continuing thus in talke of divers things, winning way, and
beguiling the time, still waiting when their purpose should sort to
effect: it fortuned, that the Theeves seeing they were come neere to a
Towne, called Chasteau Guillaume, by the foord of a River, the houre
somewhat late, the place solitarie, and thickely shaded with Trees,
they made their assault; and having robd him, left him there on foote,
stript into his shirt, saying to him. Goe now and see, whether thy
Saint Julian will allow thee this night a good lodging, or no, for our
owne we are sufficiently provided; so passing the River, away they
rode. Rinaldoes servant, seeing his Master so sharply assayled, like a
wicked villaine, would not assist him in any sort: but giving his
horse the spurres, never left gallopping, untill hee came to
Chasteau Guillaume, where hee entred upon the point of night,
providing himselfe of a lodging, but not caring what became of his
Master.
Rinaldo remaining there in his shirt, bare-foot and bare-legged,
the weather extremely colde, and snowing incessantly, not knowing what
to doe, darke night drawing on, and looking round about him, for
some place where to abide that night, to the end he might not dye with
colde: he found no helpe at all there for him, in regard that (no long
while before) the late warre had burnt and wasted all, and not so much
as the least Cottage left. Compelled by the coldes violence, his teeth
quaking, and all his body trembling, hee trotted on towards
Chausteau Guillaume, not knowing, whether his man was gone thither
or no, or to what place else: but perswaded himselfe, that if he could
get entrance, there was no feare of finding succour. But before he
came within halfe a mile of the Towne, the night grew extreamely
darke, and arriving there so late, hee found the gates fast lockt, and
the Bridges drawne up, so that no entrance might be admitted.
Grieving greatly heereat, and being much discomforted, rufully hee
went spying about the walls, for some place wherein to shrowd
himselfe, at least, to keepe the snow from falling upon him. By good
hap, hee espied an house upon the wall of the Towne, which had a
terrace jutting out as a penthouse, under which he purposed to stand
all the night, and then to get him gone in the morning. At length, hee
found a doore in the wall, but very fast shut, and some small store of
strawe lying by it, which he gathered together, and sitting downe
thereon very pensively; made many sad complaints to Saint Julian,
saying: This was not according to the trust he reposed in her. But
Saint Julian, taking compassion upon him, without any over-long
tarying; provided him of a good lodging, as you shall heare how.
In this towne of Chasteau Guillaume, lived a young Lady, who was a
widdow, so beautifull and comely of her person, as sildome was seene a
more lovely creature. The Marquesse Azzo most dearely affected her,
and (as his choysest Jewell of delight) gave her that house to live
in, under the terrace whereof poore Rinaldo made his shelter. It
chaunced the day before, that the Marquesse was come thither,
according to his frequent custome, to weare away that night in her
company, she having secretly prepared a Bath for him, and a costly
supper beside. All things being ready, and nothing wanting but the
Marquesse his presence: suddenly a Post brought him such Letters,
which commanded him instantly to horsebacke, and word hee sent to
the Lady, to spare him for that night, because urgent occasions called
him thence, and hee rode away immediately.
Much discontented was the Lady at this unexpected accident, and
not knowing now how to spend the time, resolved to use the Bath
which shee had made for the Marquesse, and (after supper) betake her
selfe to rest, and so she entred into the Bath. Close to the doore
where poore Rinaldo sate, stoode the Bath, by which meanes, shee being
therein, heard all his quivering moanes, and complaints, seeming to be
such, as the Swanne singing before her death: whereupon, shee called
her Chamber-maide, saying to her. Goe up above, and looke over the
terrace on the wall downe to this doore, and see who is there, and
what he doth. The Chamber-maide went up aloft, and by a little
glimmering in the ayre, she saw a man sitting in his shirt, bare on
feete and legges, trembling in manner before rehearsed. She
demanding of whence, and what he was; Rinaldoes teeth so trembled in
his head, as very hardly could he forme any words, but (so well as
he could) told her what he was, and how he came thither: most
pittifully entreating her, that if she could affoord him any helpe,
not to suffer him to starve there to death with cold.
The Chamber-maide, being much moved to compassion, returned to her
Lady, and tolde her all; she likewise pittying his distresse, and
remembring shee had the key of that doore, whereby the Marquesse
both entred and returned, when he intended not to be seene of any,
said to her Maide. Goe, and open the doore softly for him; we have a
good supper, and none to helpe to eate it, and if he be a man
likely, we can allow him one nights lodging too. The Chamber-maide,
commending her Lady for this charitable kindnesse, opened the doore,
and seeing hee appeared as halfe frozen, shee said unto him. Make hast
good man, get thee into this Bath, which yet is good and warme, for my
Lady her selfe came but newly out of it. Whereto very gladly he
condiscended, as not tarrying to be bidden twise; finding himselfe
so singularly comforted with the heate thereof, even as if hee had
beene restored from death to life. Then the Lady sent him garments,
which lately were her deceased husbands, and fitted him so aptly in
all respects, as if purposely they had beene made for him.
Attending in further expectation, to know what else the Lady would
commaund him; hee began to remember God and Saint Julian, hartily
thanking her, for delivering him from so bad a night as was
threatned towards him, and bringing him to so good entertainment.
After all this, the Lady causing a faire fire to be made in the
neerest Chamber beneath, went and sate by it her selfe, demaunding how
the honest man fared. Madame, answered the Chamber-maide, now that he
is in your deceased Lords garments, he appeareth to be a very goodly
Gentleman, and (questionlesse) is of respective birth and breeding,
well deserving this gracious favour which you have affoorded him.
Goe then (quoth the Lady) and conduct him hither, to sit by this fire,
and sup heere with mee, for I feare he hath had but a sorrie supper.
When Rinaldo was entred into the Chamber, and beheld her to be such
a beautifull Lady, accounting his fortune to exceede all comparison,
he did her most humble reverence, expressing so much thankefulnesse as
possibly he could, for this her extraordinary grace and favour.
The Lady fixing a stedfast eye upon him, well liking his gentle
language and behaviour, perceiving also, how fitly her deceased
husbands apparell was formed to his person, and resembling him in
all familiar respects, he appeared (in her judgement) farre beyond the
Chambermaides commendations of him; so praying him to sit downe by her
before the fire, she questioned with him, concerning this unhappy
nights accident befalne him, wherein he fully resolved her, and shee
was the more perswaded, by reason of his servants comming into the
Towne before night, assuring him, that he should be found for him
early in the morning.
Supper being served in to the Table, and hee seated according as the
Lady commanded; shee began to observe him very considerately; for he
was a goodly man, compleate in all perfection of person, a delicate
pleasing countenance, a quicke alluring eye, fixed and constant, not
wantonly gadding, in the joviall youthfulnesse of his time, and truest
temper for amorous apprehension; all these were as battering engines
against a Bulwarke of no strong resistance, and wrought strangely upon
her flexible affections. And though shee fed heartily, as occasion
constrained, yet her thoughts had entertained a new kinde of diet,
digested onely by the eye; yet so cunningly concealed, that no
motive to immodesty could be discerned. Her mercy thus extended to him
in misery, drew on (by Table discourse) his birth, education, parents,
friends, and alies; his wealthy possessions by Merchandize, and a
sound stability in his estate, but above all (and best of all) the
single and sole condition of a batcheler; an apt and easie steele to
strike fire, especially upon such quicke taking tinder, and in a
time favoured by Fortune.
No imbarment remained, but remembrance of the Marquesse, and that
being summoned to her more advised consideration, her youth and beauty
stood up as conscious accusers, for blemishing her honour and faire
repute, with lewd and luxurious life, far unfit for a Lady of her
degree, and well worthy of generall condemnation. What should I
further say? upon a short conference with her Chamber-maide,
repentance for sinne past, and solemne promise of a constant
conversion, thus shee delivered her minde to Rinaldo.
Sir, as you have related your Fortunes to mee, by this your
casuall happening hither, if you can like the motion so well as shee
that makes it, my deceased Lord and Husband living so perfectly in
your person; this house, and all mine is yours; and of a widdow I will
become your wife, except (unmanly) you deny me. Rinaldo hearing
these words, and proceeding from a Lady of such absolute
perfections, presuming upon so proud an offer, and condemning himselfe
of folly if he should refuse it, thus replied. Madam, considering that
I stand bound for ever heereafter, to confesse that you are the
gracious preserver of my life, and I no way able to returne requitall;
if you please so to shadow mine insufficiencie, and to accept me and
my fairest fortunes to doe you service: let me die before a thought of
deniall, or any way to yeeld you the least discontentment.
Heere wanted but a Priest to joyne their hands, as mutuall affection
already had done their hearts, which being sealed with infinit kisses,
the Chamber-maide called up Friar Roger her Confessor, and wedding and
bedding were both effected before the bright morning. In breefe, the
Marquesse having heard of the marriage, did not mislike it, but
confirmed it by great and honourable giftes; and having sent for his
dishonest Servant, he dispatched him (after sound reprehension) to
Ferrara, with Letters to Rinaldoes Father and Friends, of all the
accidents that had befalne him. Moreover, the very same morning, the
three Theeves that had robbed, and so ill intreated Rinaldo, for
another facte by them the same night committed, were taken, and
brought to the Towne of Chasteau Guillaume, where they were hanged for
their offences, and Rinaldo with his wife rode to Ferrara.
THE SECOND DAY, THE THIRD NOVELL
WHEREIN IS DECLARED THE DANGERS OF PRODIGALITIE, AND
THE MANIFOLD MUTABILITIES OF FORTUNE
Three young Gentlemen, being Brethren, and having spent all their
Lands and possessions vainely, became poore. A Nephew of theirs
(falling almost into as desperate a condition) became acquainted
with an Abbot, whom he afterward found to be the King of Englands
Daughter, and made him her Husband in mariage, recompencing all his
Uncles losses, and seating them againe in good estate.
The fortunes of Rinaldo de Este, being heard by the Ladies and
Gentlemen, they admired his happinesse, and commended his devotion
to Saint Julian, who (in such extreame necessity) sent him so good
succour. Nor was the Lady to be blamed, for leaving base liberty,
and converting to the chaste embraces of the marriage bed, the dignity
of Womens honour, and eternall disgrace living otherwise. While thus
they descanted on the happy night betweene her and Rinaldo, Madam
Pampinea sitting next to Philostratus, considering, that her Discourse
must follow in order, and thinking on what shee was to say; the Queene
had no sooner sent out her command, but she being no lesse faire
then forward, began in this manner. Ladies of great respect, the
more we conferre on the accidents of Fortune, so much the more
remaineth to consider on her mutabilities, wherein there is no need of
wonder, if discreetly we observe that al such things as we fondly
tearme to be our owne, are in her power, and so (consequently)
change from one to another, without any stay or arrest (according to
her concealed judgement) or setled order (at least) that can bee
knowne to us. Now, although these things appeare thus dayly to us,
even apparantly in all occasions, and as hath beene discerned by
some of our precedent Discourses; yet notwithstanding, seeing it
pleaseth the Queene, that our arguments should aime at these ends, I
will adde to the former tales another of my owne, perhaps not
unprofitable for the hearers, nor unpleasing in observation.
Sometime heeretofore, there dwelt in our Cittie, a Knight named
Signior Theobaldo, who (according as some report) issued from the
Family of Lamberti, but others derive him of the Agolanti; guiding
(perhaps) their opinion heerein, more from the traine of Children,
belonging to the saide Theobaldo (evermore equall to that of the
Agolanti) then any other matter else. But setting aside from which
of these two houses he came, I say, that in his time he was a very
wealthy Knight, and had three sonnes; the first being named
Lamberto, the second Theobaldo, and the third Agolanto, all goodly and
gracefull youths: howbeit, the eldest had not compleated eighteene
yeares, when Signior Theobaldo the Father deceased, who left them
all his goods and inheritances. And they, seeing themselves rich in
ready monies and revennewes, without any other governement then
their owne voluntary disposition, kept no restraint upon their
