lookes, yea, kindnesses of no common quality. Which Lorenzo taking
notice of, and observing by degrees from time to time, gave over all
other beauties in the City, which might allure any affection from him,
and onely fixed his heart on her, so that their love grew to a mutuall
embracing, both equally respecting one another, and entertaining
kindnesses, as occasion gave leave.
Long time continued this amorous league: of love, yet not so
cunningly concealed, but at the length, the secret meeting of Lorenzo,
and Isabella, to ease their poore soul of Loves oppressions, was
discovered by the eldest of the Brethren, unknowne to them who were
thus betrayed. He being a man of great discretion, although this sight
was highly displeasing to him: yet notwithstanding, he kept it to
himselfe till the next morning, labouring his braine what might best
be done in so urgent a case. When day was come, he resorted to his
other Brethren, and told them what he had seene in the time past,
betweene their sister and Lorenzo.
Many deliberations passed on in this case; but after all, thus
they concluded together, to let it proceede on with patient that no
scandall might ensue to them, or their Sister, no evill acte being (as
yet) committed. And seeming, as if they knew not of their love, had
a wary eye still upon her secret walkes, awaiting for some
convenient time, when without their owne prejudice, or Isabellaes
knowledge, they might safely breake off this their stolne love,
which was altogether against their liking. So, shewing no worse
countenance to Lorenzo, then formerly they had done, but imploying and
conversing with him in kinde manner; it fortuned, that riding (all
three) to recreate themselves out of the City, they tooke Lorenzo in
their company, and when they were come to a solitarie place, such as
best suited with their vile purpose: they ran sodainly upon Lorenzo,
slew him, and afterward enterred his body, where hardly it could be
discovered by any one. Then they returned backe to Messina, and gave
it forth (as a credible report) that they had sent him abroad about
their affaires, as formerly they were wont to do: which every one
verily beleeved, because they knew no reason why they should
conceite any otherwise.
Isabella, living in expectation of his returne, and perceiving his
stay to her was so offensive long: made many demands to her
Brethren, into what parts they had sent him, that his tarrying was
so quite from all wonted course. Such was her importunate speeches
to them, that they taking it very discontentedly, one of them returned
her this frowning answer. What is your meaning Sister, by so many
questionings after Lorenzo? What urgent affaires have you with him,
that makes you so impatient upon his absence? If hereafter you make
any more demands for him, we shall shape you such a reply, as will
be but little to your liking. At these harsh words, Isabella fell into
abundance of teares, where-among she mingled many sighes and
groanes, such as were able to overthrow a farre stronger constitution:
so that, being full of feare and dismay, yet no way distrusting her
brethrens cruell deede; she durst not question any more after him.
In the silence of darke night, as she lay afflicted in her bed,
oftentimes would she call for Lorenzo, entreating his speedy returning
to her: And then againe, as if he had bene present with her, she
checkt and reproved him for his so long absence. One night amongst the
rest, she being growen almost hopelesse, of ever seeing him againe,
having a long while wept and greevously lamented; her senses and
faculties utterly spent and tired, that she could not utter any more
complaints, she fell into a trance or sleepe; and dreamed, that the
ghost of Lorenzo appeared unto her, in torne and unbefitting garments,
his lookes pale, meager, and staring: and (as she thought) thus
spake to her. My deere love Isabella, thou dost nothing but torment
thy selfe, with calling on me, accusing me for overlong tarrying
from thee: I am come therefore to let thee know, that thou canst not
enjoy my company any more, because the very same day when last thou
sawest me, thy brethren most bloodily murthered me. And acquainting
her with the place where they had buried his mangled body: hee
strictly charged her, not to call him at any time afterward, and so
vanished away.
The young Damosell awaking, and giving some credite to her Vision,
sighed and wept exceedingly; and after she was risen in the morning,
not daring to say any thing to her brethren, she resolutely
determined, to go see the place formerly appointed her, onely to
make triall, if that which she seemed to see in her sleepe, should
carry any likelyhood of truth. Having obtained favour of her brethren,
to ride a dayes journey ney the City, in company of her trusty
Nurse, who long time had attended on her in the house, and knew the
secret passages of her love: they rode directly to the designed place,
which being covered with some store of dried leaves, and more deeply
sunke then any other part of the ground therabout, they digged not
farre, but they found the body of murthered Lorenzo, as yet very
little corrupted or impaired, and then perceived the truth of her
vision.
Wisedome and government so much prevailed with her, as to instruct
her soule, that her teares spent there, were meerley fruitelesse and
in vaine, neither did the time require any long tarrying there. Gladly
would she have carried the whole body with her, secretly to bestow
honourable enterment on it, but it exceeded the compasse of her
ability. Wherefore, in regard she could not have all, yet she would
be. possessed of a part, and having brought a keene razor with her, by
helpe of the Nurse, she divided the head from the body, and wrapped it
up in a Napkin, which the Nurse conveyed into her lap, and then
laide the body in the ground againe. Thus being undiscovered by any,
they departed thence, and arrived at home in convenient time, where
being alone by themselves in the Chamber: she washed the head over and
over with her teares, and bestowed infinite kisses thereon.
Not long after, the Nurse having brought her a large earthen pot,
such as we use to set Basile, Marjerom, Flowers, or other sweet
hearbes in, and shrouding the head in a silken Scarfe, put it into the
pot, covering it with earth, and planting divers rootes of excellent
Basile therein, which she never watered, but either with her teares,
Rose water, or water distilled from the Flowers of Oranges. This pot
she used continually to sitte by, either in her chamber, or any
where else: for she carried it alwaies with her, sighing and breathing
foorth sad complaints thereto, even as if they had beene uttered to
her Lorenzo, and day by day this was her continuall exercise, to the
no meane admiration of her bretheren, and many other friends that
beheld her.
So long she held on in this mourning manner, that, what by the
continuall watering of the Basile, and putrifaction of the head, so
buried in the pot of earth; it grew very flourishing, and most
odorifferous to such as scented it, that as no other Basile could
possibly yeeld so sweete a savour. The neighbours noting this
behaviour in her, observing the long continuance thereof, how much her
bright beauty was defaced, and the eyes sunke into her head by
incessant weeping, made many kinde and friendly motions, to understand
the reason of her so violent oppressions; but could not by any
meanes prevaile with her, or win any discovery by her Nurse, so
faithfull was she in secrecie to her. Her brethren also waxed wearie
of this carriage in her; and having very often reproved her for it,
without any other alteration in her: at length, they closely stole
away the potte of Basile from her, for which she made infinite
wofull lamentations, earnestly entreating to have it restored
againe, avouching that she could not live without it.
Perceiving that she could not have the pot againe, she fell into
an extreame sicknesse, occasioned onely by her ceaselesse weeping: and
never urged she to have any thing, but the restoring of her Basile
pot. Her brethren grew greatly amazed thereat, because she never
called
for ought else beside; and thereupon were very desirous to ransacke
the pot to the very bottome. Having emptied out all the earth, they
found the Scarfe of silke, wherein the head of Lorenzo was wrapped;
which was (as yet) not so much consumed, but by the lockes of haire,
they knew it to be Lorenzoes head, whereat they became confounded with
amazement.
Fearing least their offence might come to open publication, they
buried it very secretly; and, before any could take notice thereof,
they departed from Messina, and went to dwell in Naples, Isabella
crying and calling still for her pot of Basile, being unable to give
over mourning, dyed within a few dayes after. Thus have you heard
the hard fate of poore Lorenzo and his Isabella. Within no long
while after, when this accident came to be publikely knowne, an
excellent ditty was composed thereof beginning thus.
Cruell and unkinde was the Christian,
That robd me of my Basiles blisse, etc.
THE FOURTH DAY, THE SIXTH NOVELL
DESCRIBING THE ADMIRABLE ACCIDENTS OF FORTUNE; AND THE
MIGHTY PREVAILING, POWER OF LOVE POWER OF LOVE
A beautifull young Virgine, named Andreana, became enamoured of a
young Gentleman called Gabriello. In conference together, she declared
a dreame of hers to him, and he another of his to her; whereupon
Gabriello fell downe sodainly dead in her armes. She, and her
Chamber-maide were apprehended, by the Officers belonging to the
Seigneury, as they were carrying Gabriello, to lay him before his owne
doore. The Potestate offering violence to the Virgin, and she
resisting him vertuously: it came to the understanding of her
Father, who approved the innocence of his daughter, and compassed
her deliverance. But she afterward, being weary of all worldly
felicities, entred into Religion, and became a Nun.
The Novell which Madam Philomena had so graciously related, was
highly pleasing unto the other Ladies; because they had oftentimes
heard the Song, without knowing who made it or upon what occasion it
was composed. But when the King saw that the Tale was ended: he
commanded Pamphilus, that he should follow in his due course:
whereupon he spake thus.
The dreame already recounted in the last Novell, doth minister
matter to me, to make report of another Tale, wherein mention is
made of two severall dreames; which divined as well what was to ensue,
as the other did what had hapned before. And no sooner were they
finished in the relation, by both the parties which had formerly
dreampt them, but the effects of both as soddainly followed.
Worthy Ladies, I am sure it is not unknowne to you, that it is,
and hath bene a generall passion, to all men and women living, to
see divers and sundry things while they are sleeping. And although (to
the sleeper) they seeme most certaine, so that when he awaketh, he
judgeth the trueth of some, the likelyhood of others, and some
beyond all possibility of truth: yet notwithstanding, many dreames
have bene observed to happen; and very strangely have come to passe.
And this hath bene a grounded reason for some men, to give as great
credit to such things as they see sleeping, as they do to others
usually waking. So that, according unto their dreames, and as they
make construction of them, that are sadly distasted, or merrily
pleased, even as (by them) they either feare or hope. On the contrary,
there are some, who will not credit any dreame whatsoever, untill they
be falne into the very same danger which formerly they saw, and most
evidently in their sleepe.
I meane not to commend either the one or other, because they do
not alwayes fall out to be true; neither are they at all times
lyars. Now, that they prove not all to be true, we can best testifie
to our selves. And that they are not alwayes lyars, hath already
sufficiently bene manifested, by the Discourse of Madame Philomena,
and as you shall perceive by mine owne, which next commeth in order to
salute you. Wherefore, I am of this opinion, that in matters of good
life, and performing honest actions; no dreame is to be feared
presaging the contrary, neither are good works any way to be hindred
by them. Likewise, in matters of bad and wicked quality, although
our dreames may appeare favourable to us, and our visions flatter us
with prosperous successe: yet let us give no credence unto the best,
nor addict our minds to them of contrary Nature. And now we wil.
proceed to our Novell.
In the Citie of Brescia, there lived somtime a Gentleman, named
Messer Negro da Ponte Cararo, who (among many other children) had a
daughter called Andreana, yong, and beautifull, but as yet
unmarried. It fortuned, that shee fell in love with a Neighbour, named
Gabriello; a comely young Gentleman, of affable complexion, and
graciously conditioned. Which love was (with like kindenesse)
welcommed and entertained by him; and by the furtherance of her
Chamber-maide, it was so cunningly carried, that in the Garden
belonging to Andreanaes Father, she had many meetings with her
Gabriello. And solemne vowes being mutually passed betweene them, that
nothing but death could alter their affection: by such ceremonious
words as are used in marriage, they maried themselves secretly
together, and continued their stolne chaste pleasures with equall
contentment to them both.
It came to passe, that Andreana sleeping in her bed, dreamed, that
shee met with Gabriello in the Garden, where they both embracing
lovingly together, she seemed to see a thing blacke and terrible,
which sodainely issued forth of his body, but the shape therof she
could not comprehend. It rudely seized upon Gabriello, and in despight
of her utmost strength, with incredible force snatched him out of
her armes, and sinking with him into the earth, they never after did
see one another. Whereupon, overcome with extremity of greefe and
