what shee was, and then (afterward) to resolve upon the rest. So going
very softly to the Chamber, and entring in, locked the doore fast with
the key, when the poore Damosell thinking it had beene the gallant
young Monke; but finding it to be the Lord Abbot, shee fell on her
knees weeping, as fearing now to receive publike shame, by being
betrayed in this unkinde manner.
My Lord Abbot looking demurely on the Maide, and perceiving her to
be faire, feate, and lovely; felt immediately (although he was olde)
no lesse spurring on to fleshly desires, then the young Monke before
had done; whereupon he beganne to conferre thus privately with
himselfe. Why should I not take pleasure, when I may freely have it?
Cares and molestations I endure every day, but sildome find such
delights prepared for me. This is a delicate sweete young Damosell,
and here is no eye that can discover me. If I can enduce her to doe as
I would have her, I know no reason why I should gaine-say it. No man
can know it, or any tongue blaze it abroade; and sinne so concealed,
is halfe pardoned. Such a faire fortune as this is, perhaps
hereafter will never befall me; and therefore I hold it wisedome, to
take such a benefit when a man may enjoy it.
Upon this immodest meditation, and his purpose quite altered which
he came for; he went neerer to her, and very kindly began to comfort
her, desiring her to forbeare weeping: and (by further insinuating
speeches) acquainted her with his amorous intention. The Maide, who
was made neither of yron nor diamond, and seeking to prevent one shame
by another, was easily wonne to the Abbots will, which caused him to
embrace and kisse her often.
Our lusty young novice Monke, whom the Abbot imagined to bee gone
for wood, had hid himselfe aloft upon the roofe of the Dorter,
where, when he saw the Abbot enter alone into the Chamber, he lost a
great part of his former feare, promising to himselfe a kinde of
perswasion, that somewhat would ensue to his better comfort; but
when he beheld him lockt into the Chamber, then his hope grew to
undoubted certainty. A little chincke or crevice favoured him, whereat
he could both heare and see, whatsoever was done or spoken by them:
so, when the Abbot thought hee had staide long enough with the
Damosell, leaving her still there, and locking the doore fast
againe, hee returned thence to his owne Chamber.
Within some short while after, the Abbot knowing the Monke to be
in the Convent, and supposing him to be lately returned with the wood,
determined to reprove him sharpely, and to have him closely
imprisoned, that the Damosell might remaine solie to himselfe. And
causing him to be called presently before him, with a very stearne and
angry countenance, giving him many harsh and bitter speeches,
commanded, that he should be clapt in prison.
The Monke very readily answered, saying. My good Lord, I have not
yet beene so long in the Order of Saint Benedict, as to learne all the
particularities thereto belonging. And beside Sir, you never shewed
mee or any of my Brethren, in what manner we young Monkes ought to use
women, as you have otherwise done for our custome of prayer and
fasting. But seeing you have so lately therein instructed mee, and
by your owne example how to doe it: I heere solemnely promise you,
if you please to pardon me but this one error, I will never faile
therein againe, but dayly follow what I have seene you doe.
The Abbot, being a man of quicke apprehension, perceived instantly
by this answere; that the Monke not onely knew as much as he did,
but also had seene (what was intended) that hee should not. Wherefore,
finding himselfe to be as faulty as the Monke, and that hee could
not shame him, but worthily had deserved as much himselfe; pardoning
him, and imposing silence on eithers offence: they convayed the
poore abused Damosell forth of their doores, she purposing (never
after) to transgresse in the like manner.
THE FIRST DAY, THE FIFT NOVELL
DECLARING, THAT WISE AND VERTUOUS LADIES, OUGHT TO HOLD
THEIR CHASTITIE IN MORE ESTEEME, THEN THE GREATNESSE AND
TREASURES OF PRINCES: AND THAT A DISCREETE LORD SHOULD NOT
OFFER MODESTIE VIOLENCE
The Lady Marquesse of Montferrat, with a Banquet of Hennes, and
divers other gracious speeches beside, repressed the fond love of
the King of France.
The Tale reported by Dioneus, at the first hearing of the Ladies,
began to rellish of some immodestie, as the bashfull blood mounting up
into their faces, delivered by apparant testimonie. And beholding
one another with scarse-pleasing lookes, during all the time it was in
discoursing, no sooner had he concluded: but with a few milde and
gentle speeches, they gave him a modest reprehension, and meaning to
let him know that such tales ought not to be tolde among women.
Afterward, the Queene commaunded Madam Fiammetta, (sitting on a
banke of flowers before her) to take her turne as next in order; and
she, smiling with such a virgin blush, as very beautifully became her,
began in this manner.
It is no little joy to mee, that we understand so well (by the
discourses already past) what power consisteth in the delivery of wise
and readie answeres; And because it is a great part of sence and
judgement in men, to affect women of greater birth and quality then
themselves, as also an admirable fore-sight in women, to keepe off
from being surprized in love, by Lords going beyond them in degree:
a matter offereth it selfe to my memory, well deserving my speech
and your attention, how a Gentlewoman (both in word and deede)
should defend her honor in that kind, when importunity laboureth to
betray it.
The Marquesse of Montferrat was a worthy and valiant Knight, who
being Captaine Generall for the Church, the necessary service required
his company on the Seas, in a goodly Army of the Christians against
the Turkes. Upon a day, in the Court of King Philip, sirnamed the
one eyed King (who likewise made preparation in France, for a royall
assistance to that expedition) as many speeches were delivered,
concerning the valour and manhoode of this Marquesse: it fortuned,
that a Knight was then present, who knew him very familiarly, and he
gave an addition to the former commendation, that the whole world
contained not a more equall couple in marriage, then the Marquesse and
his Lady. For, as among all knights, the Marquesse could hardly be
paraleld for Armes and Honour; even so his wife, in comparison of
all other Ladies, was scarcely matchable for beauty and vertue.
Which words were so weighty in the apprehension of King Philip, that
sodainly (having as yet never seen her) he began to affect her very
earnestly, concluding to embarke himselfe at Gennes or Genoua, there
to set forward on the intended voyage, and journying thither by
land, hee would shape some honest excuse to see the Lady Marquesse,
whose Lord being then from home, opinion perswaded him over fondly,
that he should easily obtaine the issue of his amorous desire.
When hee was come within a dayes journey, where the Ladie
Marquesse then lay; he sent her word that she should expect his
company on the morrow at dinner. The Lady, being singularly wise and
judicious, answered the Messenger, that she reputed the Kings
comming to her, as an extraordinary grace and favour, and that he
should bee most heartily welcome. Afterward, entring into further
consideration with her selfe, what the King might meane by his private
visitation, knowing her Husband to be from home, and it to bee no
meane barre to his apter entertainement: at last she discreetly
conceited (and therin was not deceived) that babling report of her
beauty and perfections, might thus occasion the Kings comming thither,
his journey lying else a quite contrary way. Notwithstanding, being
a Princely Lady, and so loyal a wife as ever lived shee intended to
give him her best entertainement: summoning the chiefest Gentlemen
in the Country together, to take due order (by their advice) for
giving the King a gracious Welcome. But concerning the dinner, and
diet for service to his Table, that remained onely at her own
disposing.
Sending presently abroad, and buying all the Hennes that the Country
affoorded, shee commaunded her Cookes, that onely of them (without any
other provision beside) they should prepare all the services that they
could devise. On the morrow, the King came according to his promise,
and was most honourably welcomed by the Lady, who seemed in his eye
(far beyond the Knights speeches of her) the fairest creature that
ever he had seene before; whereat he mervailed not a little, extolling
her perfections to be peerelesse, which much the more enflamed his
affections, and (almost) made his desires impatient. The King beeing
withdrawne into such Chambers, as orderly were prepared for him, and
as beseemed so great a Prince: the houre of dinner drawing on, the
King and the Lady Marquesse were seated at one Table, and his
attendants placed at other tables, answerable to their degrees of
honour.
Plenty of dishes being served in, and the rarest Wines that the
Countrey yeelded, the King had more minde to the faire Lady Marques,
then any meate that stood on the Table. Neverthelesse, observing
each service after other, and that all the Viands (though variously
cooked, and in divers kindes) were nothing else but Hennes onely, he
began to wonder; and so much the rather, because he knew the Country
to be of such quality, that it afforded all plenty both of Fowles
and Venison: beside, after the time of his comming was heard, they had
respite enough, both for hawking and hunting; and therefore it
encreased his marvell the more, that nothing was provided for him, but
Hennes onely: wherein to be the better resolved, turning a merry
countenance to the Lady, thus he spake. Madam, are Hennes onely bred
in this Country, and no Cockes? The Lady Marquesse, very well
understanding his demand, which fitted her with an apt opportunity, to
thwart his idle hope, and defend her owne honour; boldly returned
the King this answere. Not so my Lord, but women and wives,
howsoever they differ in garments and graces one from another; yet
notwithstanding, they are all heere as they bee in other places.
When the King heard this reply, he knew well enough the occasion
of his Henne dinner, as also, what vertue lay couched under her
answere; perceiving apparantly, that wanton words would prove but in
vaine, and such a woman was not easily to be seduced; wherefore, as
hee grew enamored on her inconsiderately, so he found it best
fitting for his honour, to quench this heate with wisedome discreetly.
And so, without any more words, or further hope of speeding in so
unkingly a purpose, dinner being ended, by a sudden departing, he
smoothly shadowed the cause of his comming, and thanking her for the
honour shee had done him, commended her to her chaste disposition, and
posted away with speede to Gennes.
THE FIRST DAY, THE SIXT NOVELL
DECLARING, THAT IN FEW, DISCREETE, AND WELL PLACED WORDS,
THE COVERED CRAFT OF CHURCH-MEN MAY BEE JUSTLY REPROVED, AND
THEIR HYPOCRISIE HONESTLY DISCOVERED
An honest plaine meaning man, (simply and conscionably)
reprehended the malignity, hypocrisie, and misdemeanour of many
Religious persons.
Madam Aemilia sitting next to the gentle Lady Fiammetta,
perceiving the modest chastisement, which the vertuous Lady
Marquesse had given to the King of France, was generally graced by the
whole Assembly; began (after the Queene had thereto appointed her)
in these words. Nor will I conceale the deserved reprehension, which
an honest simple lay-man, gave to a covetous holy Father, in very
few words; yet more to be commended, then derided.
Not long since (worthy Ladies) there dwelt in our owne native
City, a Friar Minor, an Inquisitor after matters of Faith; who,
although he laboured greatly to seeme a sanctified man, and an earnest
affecter of Christian Religion, (as all of them appeare to be in
outward shew;) yet he was a much better Inquisitor after them that had
their purses plenteously stored with money, then of such as were
slenderly grounded in Faith. By which diligent continued care in
him, he found out a man, more rich in purse, then understanding; and
yet not so defective in matters of faith, as misguided by his owne
simple speaking, and (perhaps) when his braine was well warmed with
wine, words fell more foolishly from him, then in better judgement
they could have done.
Being on a day in company, (very little differing in quality from
him selfe) he chanced to say; that he had beene at such good wine,
as God himselfe did never drinke better. Which words (by some
Sicophant then in presence) being carried to this curious
Inquisitor, and he well knowing, that the mans faculties were great,
and his bagges swolne up full with no meane abundance: Cum gladijs
et fustibus; With Booke, Bell, and Candle, he raysed an hoast of
execrations against him, and the Sumner cited him with a solemne
Processe to appeare before him, understanding sufficiently, that
this course would sooner fetch money from him, then amend any
misbeliefe in the man; for no further reformation did he seeke after.
The man comming before him, hee demanded, if the accusation
intimated against him, was true or no? Whereto the honest man
answered, that he could not denie the speaking of such words, and
declared in what manner they were uttered. Presently the Inquisitor,
most devoutly addicted to Saint John with the golden beard, saide;
What? Doest thou make our Lord a drinker, and a curious quaffer of
wines, as if he were a glutton, a belly-god, or a Taverne haunter,
as thou, and other drunkards are. Being an hypocrite, as thou art,
thou thinkest this to be but a light matter, because it may seeme so
in thine owne opinion: but I tell thee plainely, that it deserveth
fire and faggot, if I should proceede in justice to inflict it on
thee: with these, and other such like threatning words, as also a very
