the morrowes sailing untill the evening, it came within an hundre
leagues of Thunis and to a strond neere a Towne called Susa. The young
Damosell knew not whether she were on the sea or land; as one, who not
by any accident hapning, lifted up her head to looke about her,
neither intended ever to doe. Now it came to passe, that as the
boate was driven to the shore, a poore woman stood at the Sea side,
washing certaine Fishermens Nets; and seeing the boate comming towards
her under saile, without any person appearing in it, she wondred
thereat not a little. It being close at the shore, and she thinking
the Fishermen to be asleepe therein: stept boldly, and looked into the
boate, where she saw not any body, but onely the poore distressed
Damosell, whose sorrowes having brought her now into a sound sleepe,
the woman gave many cals before she could awake her, which at the
length she did, and looked very strangely about her.
The poore woman perceyving by her habite that she was a Christian,
demanded of her (in speaking Latine) how it was possible for her,
being all alone in the boate, to arrive there in this manner? When
Constance, heard her speake the Latine tongue, she began to doubt,
least some contrary winde had turned her backe to Liparis againe,
and starting up sodainly, to looke with better advice about her,
shee saw her selfe at Land: and not knowing the Countrey, demanded
of the poore woman where she was? Daughter (quoth she) you are heere
hard by Susa in Barbarie. Which Constance hearing, and plainly
perceyving, that death had denied to end her miseries, fearing least
she should receive some dishonour, in such a barbarous unkinde
Country, and not knowing what should now become of her, shee sate
downe by the boates side, wringing her hands, and weeping bitterly.
The good Woman did greatly compassionate her case, and prevailed
so well by gentle speeches, that she conducted her into her owne poore
habitation, where at length she understoode, by what meanes shee
hapned thither so strangely. And perceyving her to be fasting, she set
such homely bread as she had before her, a few small Fishes, and a
Crewse of Water, praying her for to accept of that poore
entertainment, which meere necessity compelled her to do, and shewed
her selfe very thankefull for it.
Constance hearing that she spake the Latine language so well;
desired to know what she was. Whereto the old woman thus answered:
Gentlewoman (quoth she) I am of Trapanum, named Carapresa, and am a
servant in this Countrey to certaine Christian Fishermen. The young
Maiden (albeit she was very full of sorrow) hearing her name to be
Carapresa, conceived it as a good augury to her selfe, and that she
had heard the name before, although she knew not what occasion
should move her thus to do. Now began her hopes to quicken againe, and
yet she could not relie upon what ground; nor was she so desirous of
death as before, but made more precious estimation of her life, and
without any further declaration of her selfe or Countrey, she
entreated the good woman (even for charities sake) to take pitty on
her youth, and helpe her with such good advice, to prevent all
injuries which might happen to her, in such a solitary wofull
condition.
Carapresa having heard her request, like a good woman as she was,
left Constance in her poore Cottage, and went hastily to leave her
nets in safety: which being done, she returned backe againe, and
covering Constance with her Mantle, led her on to Susa with her, where
being arrived, the good woman began in this manner. Constance, I
will bring thee to the house of a very worthy Sarazin Lady, to whom
I have done many honest services, according as she pleased to
command me. She is an ancient woman, full of charity, and to her I
will commend thee as best I may, for I am well assured, that she
will gladly entertaine thee, and use thee as if thou wert her own
daughter. Now, let it be thy part, during thy time of remaining with
her, to employ thy utmost diligence in pleasing her, by deserving
and gaining her grace, till heaven shall blesse thee with better
fortune: and as she promised, so she performed.
The Sarazine Lady, being well stept into yeares, upon the
commendable speeches delivered by Carapresa, did the more seriously
fasten her eye on Constance, and compassion provoking her to teares,
she tooke her by the hand, and (in loving manner) kissed her
fore-head. So she led her further into her house, where dwelt divers
other women (but not one man) all exercising themselves in severall
labours, as working in all sorts of silke, with Imbroideries of Gold
and Silver, and sundry other excellent Arts beside, which in short
time were very familiar to Constance, and so pleasing grew her
behaviour to the old Lady, and all the rest beside; that they loved
and delighted in her wonderfully, and (by little and little) she
attained to the speaking of their language, although it were very
harsh and difficult.
Constance continuing thus in the old Ladies service at Susa, and
thought to be dead or lost in her owne Fathers house; it fortuned,
that one reigning then as King of Thunis, who named himselfe
Mariabdela: there was a young Lord of great birth, and very powerfull,
who lived as then in Granada, and pleaded that the Kingdome of
Thunis belonged to him. In which respect, he mustred together a mighty
Army, and came to assault the King, as hoping to expell him. These
newes comming to the eare of Martuccio Gomito, who spake the Barbarian
Language perfectly; and hearing it reported, that the King of Thunis
made no meane preparation for his owne defence: he conferred with
one of his keepers, who had the custody of him, and the rest taken
with him, saying: If (quoth he) I could have meanes to speake with the
King, and he were pleased to allow of my counsell, I can enstruct
him in such a course, as shall assure him to win the honor of the
field. The Guard reported these speeches to his Master, who
presently acquainted the King therewith, and Martuccio being sent for;
he was commanded to speake his minde: Whereupon he began in this
manner.
My gracious Lord, during the time that I have frequented your
countrey, I have heedfully observed, that the Militarie Discipline
used in your fights and battailes, dependeth more upon your Archers,
then any other men imployed in your war And therefore, if it could
be so ordered, that this kinde of Artillery may faile in your
enemies Campe, and yours be sufficiently furnished therewith, you
neede make no doubt of winning the battaile: whereto the King thus
replyed. Doubtlesse, if such an act were possible to be done, it would
give great hope of successefull prevalling. Sir, said Martuccio, if
you please it may be done, and I can quickly resolve you how. Let
the strings of your Archers Bowes be made more soft and gentle, then
those which heretofore they have formerly used; and next, let the
nockes of the Arrowes be so provided, as not to receive any other,
then those pliant gentle strings. But this must be done so secretly,
that your enemies may have no knowledge thereof, least they should
provide themselves in the same manner. Now the reason (Gracious
Lord) why thus I counsell you, is to this end. When the Archers on the
Enemies side have shot their Arrowes at your men, and yours in the
like maner at them: it followeth, that (upon meere constraint) they
must gather up your Arrowes, to shoote them backe againe at you, for
so long while as the battell endureth, as no doubt but your men wil do
the like to them. But your enemies finde themselves much deceived,
because they can make no use of your peoples Arrowes, in regard that
the nockes are too narrow to receive their boystrous strings. Which
will fall out contrary with your followers, for the pliant strings
belonging to your Bowes, are as apt for their enemies great nockt
Arrowes, as their owne, and so they shall have free use of both,
reserving them in plentifull store, when your adversaries must stand
unfurnished of any, but them that they cannot any way use.
This counsell pleased the King very highly, and he being a Prince of
great understanding, gave order to have it accordingly followed, and
thereby valiantly vanquished his enemies. Heereupon, Martuccio came to
be great in his grace, as also consequently rich, and seated in no
meane place of authority. Now as worthy and commendable actions are
soone spread abroad, in honor of the man by whom they hapned: even
so the fame of this rare got victory, was quickly noysed throughout
the Countrey, and came to the hearing of poore Constance, that
Martuccio Gomito (whom she supposed so long since to be dead) was
living, and in honourable condition. The love which formerly she
bare unto him, being not altogether extinct in her heart; of a small
sparke, brake forth into a sodaine flame, and so encreased day by day,
that her hope (being before almost quite dead) revived againe in
chearfull manner.
Having imparted all her fortunes to the good old Lady with whom
she dwelt; she told her beside, that she had an earnest desire to
see Thunis, to satisfie her eyes as well as her eares, concerning
the rumor blazed abroad. The good old Lady commended her desire, and
(even as if she had bene her Mother) tooke her with her aboord a
Barke, and so sayled thence to Thunis, where both she and Constance
found honourable welcome, in the house of a kinsman to the Sarazin
Lady. Carapresa also went along with them thither, and her they sent
abroad into the City, to understand the newes of Martuccio Gomito.
After they knew for a certainty that he was living, and in great
authority about the King, according as the former report went of
him. Then the good old Lady, being desirous to let Martuccio know,
that his faire friend Constance was come thither to see him; went
her selfe to the place of his abiding, and spake unto him in this
manner. Noble Martuccio, there is a servant of thine in my house,
which came from Liparis, and requireth to have a little private
conference with thee: but because I durst not trust any other with the
message, my selfe (at her entreaty) am come to acquaint thee
therewith. Martuccio gave her kinde and hearty thankes, and then
went along with her to the house.
No sooner did Constance behold him, but she was ready to dye with
conceite of joy, and being unable to containe her passion: sodainely
she threw her armes about his necke, and in meere compassion of her
many misfortunes, as also the instant solace of her soule (not being
able to utter one word) the teares trickled abundantly downe her
cheekes. Martuccio also seeing his faire friend, was overcome with
exceeding admiration, and stood awhile, as not knowing what to say;
till venting forth a vehement sighe, thus he spake. My deerest love
Constance! Art thou yet living? It is a tedious long while since I
heard thou wast lost, and never any tydings knowne of thee in thine
owne Fathers house. With which words, the teares standing in his eyes,
most lovingly he embraced her, Constance recounted to him all her
fortunes, and what kindnesse she had receyved from the Sarazine
Lady, since her first houre of comming to her. And after much other
discourse passing betweene them, Martuccio departed from her, and
returning to the King his master, tolde him all the history of his
fortunes, and those beside of his Love Constance, being purposely
minded (with his gracious liking) to marry her according to the
Christian Law.
The King was much amazed at so many strange accidents, and sending
for Constance to come before him; from her owne mouth he heard the
whole relation of her continued affection to Martuccio, whereupon
hee saide. Now trust me faire Damosell, thou hast dearely deserved him
to be thy husband. Then sending for very costly Jewels, and rich
presents, the one halfe of them he gave to her, and the other to
Martuccio, graunting them license withall, to marry according to their
owne mindes.
Martuccio did many honors, and gave great gifts to the aged Sarazine
Lady, with whom Constance had lived so kindly respected: which
although she had no neede of, neither ever expected any such
rewarding; yet (conquered by their urgent importunity, especially
Constance, who could not be thankfull enough to her) she was
enforced to receive them, and taking her leave of them weeping, sayled
backe againe to Susa.
Within a short while after, the King licensing their departure
thence, they entred into a small Barke, and Carapresa with them,
sailing on with prosperous gales of winde, untill they arrived at
Liparis, where they were entertained with generall rejoycing. And
because their marriage was not sufficiently performed at Thunis, in
regard of divers Christian ceremonies there wanting, their Nuptials
were againe most honourably solemnized, and they lived (many yeares
after) in health and much happinesse.
THE FIFT DAY, THE THIRD NOVELL
WHEREIN, THE SEVERALL POWERS BOTH OF LOVE AND FORTUNE, IS
MORE AT LARGE APPROVED
Pedro Bocamazzo, escaping away with a yong Damosell which he
loved, named Angelina, met with Theeves in his journey. The Damosell
flying fearfully into a Forrest, by chance arriveth at a Castle. Pedro
being taken by the Theeves, and happening afterward to escape from
them; commeth (accidentally) to the same Castle where Angelina was.
And marrying her, they then returned home to Rome.
There was not any one in the whole company, but much commended the
Novell reported by Madam Aemilia, and when the Queene perceived it was
ended, she turned towards Madam Eliza, commanding her to continue on
their delightfull exercise: whereto she declaring her willing
obedience, began to speake thus. Courteous Ladies, I remember one
unfortunate night, which happened to two Lovers, that were not
indued with the greatest discretion. But because they had very many
faire and happy dayes afterwards, I am the more willing for to let you
heare it.
In the City of Rome, which (in times past) was called the Lady and
