Violenta, who had concealed her amisse so long as she could, and saw
no other remedy, but now at last it must needes be discovered; went
privately to her Mother, and (in teares) revealed her infirmity,
humbly craving her pardon, and furtherance in hiding it from her
Father. The Mother being extraordinarily displeased, chiding her
with many sharpe and angry speeches, would needes know with whom
shee had thus offended. The Daughter (to keepe Pedro from any
detection) forged a Tale of her owne braine, farre from any truth
indeede, which her Mother verily beleeving, and willing to preserve
her Daughter from shame, as also the fierce anger of her Husband, he
being a man of very implacable nature: conveyed her to the Countrey
Farme, whither Signior Amarigo sildome or never resorted, intending
(under the shadow of sicknesse) to let her lye in there, without the
least suspition of any in Trapani.
Sinne and shame can never be so closely carryed, or clouded with the
greatest cunning; but truth hath a loop-light whereby to discover
it, even when it supposeth it selfe in the surest safety. For, on
the very day of her detiverance, at such time as the Mother, and
some few friends (sworne to secrecy) were about the businesse, Signior
Amarigo, having beene in company of other Gentlemen, to flye his Hawke
at the River, upon a sudden, (but very unfortunately, albeit hee was
alone by himselfe) stept into his Farm-house, even to the next roome
where the women were, and heard the newborne Babe to cry, whereat
marvelling not a little, he called for his Wife, to know what young
childe cryed in his House. The Mother, amazed at his strange comming
thither, which never before he had used to doe, and pittying the
wofull distresse of her Daughter, which now could bee no longer
covered, revealed what happened to Violenta. But he, being nothing
so rash in beliefe, as his Wife was, made answere, that it was
impossible for his Daughter to be conceived with childe, because he
never observed the least signe of love in her to any man whatsoever,
and therefore he would be satisfied in the truth, as shee expected any
favour from him, or else there was no other way but death.
The Mother laboured by all meanes she could devise, to pacifie her
Husbands fury, which proved all in vaine; for being thus impatiently
incensed, he drew foorth his Sword, and stepping with it drawne into
the Chamber (where she had bene delivered of a goodly Sonne) he said
unto her. Either tell me who is the Father of this Bastard, or thou
and it shall perish both together. Poore Violenta, lesse respecting
her owne life, then she did the childes; forgot her solemne promise
made to Pedro, and discovered all. Which when Amarigo had heard, he
grew so desperately enraged, that hardly he could forbeare from
killing her. But after hee had spoken what his fury enstructed him,
hee mounted on Horsebacke againe, ryding backe to Trapani, where hee
disclosed the injury which Pedro had done him, to a noble Gentleman,
named Signior Conrado, who was Captaine for the King over the City.
Before poore Pedro could have any intelligence, or so much as
suspected any treachery against him; he was suddenly apprehended,
and being called in question, stood not on any deniall, but
confessed truly what hee had done: whereupon, within some few dayes
after, he was condemned by the Captaine, to be whipt to the place of
execution, and afterward to be hanged by the necke. Signior Amarigo,
because he would cut off (at one and the same time) not onely the
lives of the two poore Lovers, but their childes also; as a
franticke man, violently carried from all sense of compassion, even
when Pedro was led and whipt to his death: he mingled strong poyson in
a Cup of wine, delivering it to a trusty servant of his owne, and a
naked Rapier withall, speaking to him in this manner. Goe carry
these two presents to my late Daughter Violenta, and tell her from me,
that in this instant houre, two severall kinds of death are offered
unto her, and one of them she must make choyce of, either to drinke
the poyson, and so dye, or to run her body on this Rapiers point,
which if she denie to doe, she shall be haled to the publike market
place, and presently be burned in the sight of her lewd companion,
according as shee hath worthily deserved. When thou hast delivered her
this message, take he- Bastard brat, so lately since borne, and dash
his braines out against the walles, and afterward throw him to my
Dogges to feede on.
When the Father had given this cruell sentence, both against his
owne Daughter, and her young Sonne, the servant readier to do evill,
then any good, went to the place where his Daughter was kept. Poore
condemned Pedro, (as you have heard) was led whipt to the Gibbet,
and passing (as it pleased the Captaines Officers to guide him) by a
faire Inne: at the same time were lodged there three chiefe persons of
Arminia, whom the King of the Countrey had sent to Rome, as
Ambassadours to the Popes Holinesse, to negociate about an important
businesse neerely concerning the King and State. Reposing there for
some few dayes, as being much wearied with their journey., and
highly honoured by the Gentlemen of Trapani, especially Signior
Amarigo; these Ambassadours standing in their Chamber window, heard
the wofull lamentations of Pedro in his passage by.
Pedro was naked from the middle upward, and his hands bound fast
behind him, but being well observed by one of the Ambassadours, a
man aged, and of great authority, named Phinio: hee espied a great red
spot upon his breast, not painted, or procured by his punishment,
but naturally imprinted in the flesh, which women (in these parts)
terme the Rose. Upon the sight hereof, he suddenly remembred a Sonne
of his owne, which was stolne from him about fifteene yeeres before,
by Pyrates on the Sea-coast of Laiazzo, never hearing any tydings of
him afterward. Upon further consideration, and comparing his Sonnes
age with the likelyhood of this poore wretched mans; thus he conferred
with his owne thoughts. If my Sonne (quoth he) be living, his age is
equall to this mans time, and by the red blemish on his breast, it
plainely speakes him for to bee my Sonne.
Moreover, thus he conceived, that if it were he, he could not but
remember his owne name, his Fathers, and the Armenian Language;
wherefore, when he was just opposite before the window, hee called
aloud to him, saying: Theodoro. Pedro hearing the voyce, presently
lifted up his head, and Phinio speaking Armenian, saide: Of whence art
thou, and what is thy Fathers name? The Sergeants (in reverence to the
Lord Ambassador) stayed awhile, till Pedro had returned his answer,
who saide. I am an Armenian borne, Sonne to one Phineo, and was
brought hither I cannot tell by whom. Phineo hearing this, knew then
assuredly, that this was the same Sonne which he had lost;
wherefore, the teares standing in his eyes with conceite of joy, downe
he descended from the window, and the other Ambassadors with him,
running in among the Sergeants to embrace his Sonne, and casting his
owne rich Cloake about his whipt body, entreating them to forbeare and
proceed no further, till they heard what command he should returne
withall unto them; which very willingly they promised to do.
Already, by the generall rumour dispersed abroad, Phineo had
understood the occasion, why Pedro was thus punished, and sentenced to
bee hanged: wherefore, accompanied with his fellow Ambassadors, and
all their attending traine, he went to Signior Conrado, and spake thus
to him. My Lord, he whom you have sent to death as a slave, is a
free Gentleman borne, and my Sonne, able to make her amends whom he
hath dishonoured, by taking her in marriage as his lawfull Wife. Let
me therefore entreat you, to make stay of the execution, ill it may be
knowne, whether she will accept him as her Husband, or no; least (if
she be so pleased) you offend directly against your owne Law. When
Signior Conrado heard, that Pedro was Sonne to the Lord Ambassador, he
wondred thereat not a little, and being somewhat ashamed of his
fortunes errour, confessed, that the claime of Phineo was
comformable to Law, and ought not to be denied him; going presently to
the Counsell Chamber, sending for Signior Amarigo immediately thither,
and acquainting him fully with the case.
Amarigo, who beleeved that his Daughter and her Child were already
dead, was the wofullest man in the World, for his so rash
proceeding, knowing very well, that if she were not dead, the scandall
would easily be wipt away with credit. Wherefore he sent in all
poast haste, to the place where his Daughter lay, that if his
command were not already executed, by no meanes to have it done at
all. He who went on this speedy errand, found there Signior
Amarigoes servant standing before Violenta, with the Cup of poyson
in the one hand, and the drawne Rapier in the other, reproaching her
with very foule and injurious speeches, because she had delayed the
time so long, and would not accept the one or other, striving (by
violence) to make her take the one. But hearing his Masters command to
the contrary, he left her, and returned backe to him, certifying him
how the case stood.
Most highly pleased was Amarigo with these glad newes, and going
to the Ambassadour Phineo, in teares excused himselfe (so well as he
could) for his severity, and craving pardon; assured him, that if
Theodoro would accept his Daughter in marriage, willingly he would
bestow her on him. Phineo allowed his excuses to be tollerable, and
saide beside; If my Son will not marry your Daughter, then let the
sentence of death be executed on him. Amarigo and Phineo being thus
accorded, they went to poore Theodoro, fearefully looking every minute
when he should dye, yet joyfull that he had found his Father, who
presently moved the question to him. Theodoro hearing that Violenta
should bee his Wife, if he would so accept her: was over come with
such exceeding joy, as if he had leapt out of hell into Paradise;
confessing, that no greater felicity could befall him, if Violenta her
selfe were so well pleased as he.
The like motion was made to her, to understand her disposition in
this case, who hearing what good hap had befalne Theodoro, and now
in like manner must happen to her: whereas not long before, when two
such violent deathes were prepared for her, and one of them shee
must needs embrace, she accounted her misery beyond all other
womens, but she now thought her selfe above all in happinesse, if
she might be wife to her beloved Theodoro, submitting her selfe
wholy to her Fathers disposing. The marriage being agreed on
betweene them, it was celebrated with great pompe and solemnity, a
generall Feast being made for all the Citizens, and the young
married couple nourished up their sweete Son, which grew to be a
very comely childe.
After that the Embassie was dispatched at Rome, and Phineo (with the
rest) was returned thither againe; Violenta did reverence him as her
owne naturall Father, and he was not a little proud of so lovely a
Daughter, beginning a fresh feasting againe, and continuing the same a
whole moneth together. Within some short while after, a Galley being
fairely furnished for the purpose, Phineo, his Sonne, Daughter, and
their young Sonne, went aboard, sayling away thence to Laiazzo,
where afterward they lived in much tranquility.
THE FIFT DAY, THE EIGHTH NOVELL
DECLARING, THAT LOVE NOT ONELY MAKES A MAN PRODIGALL, BUT ALSO AN
ENEMY TO HIMSELFE. MOREOVER, ADVENTURE OFTENTIMES BRINGETH SUCH
MATTERS TO PASSE, AS WIT AND CUNNING IN MAN
CAN EVER COMPREHEND
Anastasio, a Gentleman of the Family of the Honesti, by loving the
Daughter to Signior Paulo Traversario, lavishly wasted a great part of
his substance, without receiving any love from her againe. By
perswasion of some of his kindred and friends, he went to a Countrey
dwelling of his, called Chiasso, where he saw a Knight desperately
pursue a young Damosell; whom he slew, and afterward gave her to be
devoured by his Hounds. Anastasio invited his friends, and hers also
whom he so dearely loved, to take part of a dinner with him, who
likewise saw the same Damosell so torne in peeces: which his unkind
Love perceiving, and fearing least the like ill fortune should
happen to her; she accepted Anastasio to be her Husband.
So soone as Madam Lauretta held her peace, Madam Pampinea (by the
Queenes command) began, and said. Lovely Ladies, as pitty is most
highly commended in our sexe, even so is cruelty in us as severely
revenged (oftentimes) by divine ordination. Which that you may the
better know, and learne likewise to shun, as a deadly evill; I purpose
to make apparant by a Novell, no lesse full of compassion, then
delectable.
Ravenna being a very ancient City in Romania, there dwelt sometime a
great number of worthy Gentlemen, among whom I am to speake of one
more especially, named Anastasio, descended from the Family of the
Honesti, who by the death of his Father, and an Unckle of his, was
left extraordinarily abounding in riches, and growing to yeares
fitting for marriage, (as young Gallants are easily apt enough to
do) he became enamored of a very bountifull Gentlewoman, who was
Daughter to Signior Paulo Traversario, one of the most ancient and
noble Families in all the Countrey. Nor made he any doubt, but by
his meanes and industrious endeavour, to derive affection from her
againe; for he carried himselfe like a brave-minded Gentleman,
liberall in his expences, honest and affable in all his actions, which
commonly are the true notes of a good nature, and highly to be
commended in any man. But, howsoever Fortune became his enemy, these
laudable parts of manhood did not any way friend him, but rather
appeared hurtfull to himselfe: so cruell, unkind, and almost meerely
savage did she shew her selfe to him; perhaps in pride of her singular
beauty, or presuming on her nobility by birth, both which are rather
blemishes, then ornaments in a woman, especially when they be abused.
