so much, the extreamity of his sicknesse, as nothing can ensue
thereon, but his losse of life. Wherefore I beseech you, not in regard
of the love you have borne me, for therby you stand no way obliged:
but in your owne true gentle nature (the which hath alwayes declared
it selfe ready in you, to do more kinde offices generally, then any
other Gentleman that I know) you will be pleased to give her me, or at
the least, let me buy her of you.
Which if you do, I shall freely then confesse, that onely by your
meanes, my Sonnes life is saved, and we both shall for ever remaine
engaged to you.
When Frederigo had heard the Ladies request, which was now quite out
of his power to graunt, because it had bene her service at dinner:
he stood like a man meerely dulled in his sences, the teares trickling
amaine downe his cheekes, and he not able to utter one word. Which she
perceiving, began to conjecture immediately, that these teares and
passions proceeded rather from greefe of minde, as being loather to
part with his Faulcon, then any other kinde of manner: which made
her ready to say, that she would not have it. Neverthelesse she did
not speake, but rather tarried to attend his answer. Which, after some
small respite and pause, he returned in this manner.
Madame, since the houre, when first mine affection became soly
devoted to your service; Fortune hath bene crosse and contrary to
me, in many occasions, as justly, and in good reason I may complain of
her, yet all seemed light and easie to be indured, in comparison of
her present malicious contradiction, to my utter overthrow, and
perpetuall mollestation. Considering, that you are come hither to my
poore house, which (while I was rich and able) you would not so much
as vouchsafe to looke on. And now you have requested a small matter of
me, wherein she hath also most crookedly thwarted me, because she hath
disabled me, in bestowing so meane a gift, as your selfe will
confesse, when it shall be related to you in few words.
So soone as I heard, that it was your gracious pleasure to dine with
me, having regard to your excellency, and what (by merit) is justly
due unto you: I thought it a part of my bounden duty, to entertaine
you with such exquisite viands, as my poore power could any way
compasse, and farre beyond respect or welcome, to other common and
ordinary persons. Whereupon, remembring my Faulcon, which now you aske
for; and her goodnesse, excelling all other of her kinde; I
supposed, that she would make a dainty dish for your dyet, and
having drest her, so well as I could devise to do: you have fed
heartily on her, and I am proud that I have so well bestowne her.
But perceiving now, that you would have her for your sicke Sonne; it
is no meane affliction to me, that I am disabled of yeelding you
contentment, which all my life time I have desired to doe.
To approve his words, the feathers, feete, and beake were brought
in, which when she saw, she greatly blamed him for killing so rare a
Faulcon, to content the appetite of any woman whatsoever. Yet she
commended his height of spirit, which poverty had no power to abase.
Lastly, her hopes being frustrate for enjoying the Faulcon, and
fearing besides the health of her Sonne, she thanked Frederigo for his
honorable kindnesse, returning home againe sad and melancholly.
Shortly after, her sonne either greeving that he could not have the
Faulcon, or by extreamity of his disease, chanced to dye, leaving
his mother a most wofull Lady.
After so much time was expired, as conveniently might agree with
sorrow, and mourning; her Brethren made many motions to her, to oyne
her selfe in marriage againe, because she was extraordinarily rich,
and as yet but yong in yeares. Now although she was well contented
never to be married any more; yet being continually importuned by
them, and remembring the honorable honesty of Frederigo, his last
poore, yet magnificent dinner, in killing his Faulcon for her sake,
she saide to her Brethren. This kind of widdowed estate doth like me
so well, as willingly I would never leave it: but seeing you are so
earnest for my second marriage, let me plainly tell you, that I will
never accept of any other husband, but onely Frederigo di Alberino.
Her Brethren in scornefull manner reprooved her, telling her, that
he was a begger, and had nothing left to keepe him in the world. I
know it well (quoth she) and am heartily sorry for it. But give me a
man that hath neede of wealth, rather then wealth that hath neede of a
man. The Brethren hearing how she stood addicted, and knowing
Frederigo to be a worthy Gentleman, though poverty had disgraced him
in the World: consented thereto, so she bestowed her selfe and her
riches on him. He on the other side, having so noble a Lady to his
Wife, and the same whom he had so long and deerely loved, submitted
all his fairest Fortunes unto her, became a better husband (for the
world) then before, and they lived, and loved together in equall joy
and happinesse.
THE FIFT DAY, THE TENTH NOVELL
REPREHENDING THE CUNNING OF IMMODEST WOMEN, WHO BY ABUSING
THEMSELVES, DO THROW EVILL ASPERSIONS ON ALL THEIR SEXE
Pedro di Vinciolo went to sup at a friends house in the City. His
wife (in the meane while) had a young man whom shee loved, at supper
with Pedro returning home on a sodaine, the young man was hidden under
a Coope for Hens. Pedro in excuse of his so soone comming home,
declareth, how in the house of Herculano (with whom he should have
supt) a friend of his Wives was found, which was the reason of the
Suppers breaking off. Pedroes Wife reproving the error of
Herculanoes wife, an Asse (by chance) treads on the yong mans
fingers that lay hidden under the Hen-coope. Upon his crying out Pedro
steppeth thither, sees him, knowes him, and findeth the fallacy of his
wife; with whom (nevertbelesse) he groweth to agreement, in regard
of some imperfections in himselfe.
The Queenes Novell being ended, and all applauding the happy fortune
of Frederigo, as also the noble nature of Madam Giana; Dioneus
expecting no command, prepared to deliver his discourse in this maner.
I know not whether I should terme it a vice accidentall, and insuing
thorow the badnes of complexions on us mortals; or an error in Nature,
to rejoyce rather at lewd accidents, then at deeds that deserve
commendation, especially when they no way concern our selves. Now,
in regard that all the paines I have hitherto taken, and am also to
undergo at this present aymeth at no other end, but onely to purge
your minds of melancholly, and entertain the time with mirthful
matter: pardon me I pray you (faire Lacties) if my Tale trip in some
part, and savour a little of immodesty; yet in hearing it, you may
observe the same course, as you doe in pleasing and delightfull
Gardens, plucke a sweete Rose, and preserve your fingers from
pricking. Which very easily you may doe, winking at the
imperfections of a foolish man, and at the amourous subtilties of
his Wife, compassionating the misfortune of others, where urgent
necessity doth require it.
There dwelt not long since in Perugia, a wealthy man named Pedro
di Vinciolo, who perhaps more to deceive some other, and restraine
an evill opinion which the Perugians had conceived of him, in matter
no way beseeming a man, then any beauty or good feature remaining in
the woman entred into the estate of marriage. And Fortune was so
conforme to him in his election, that the woman whom he had made his
wife, had a yong, lusty, and well enabled bodie, a red-haird Wench,
hot and fiery spirited, standing more in neede of three Husbands, then
he, who could not any way well content one Wife, because his minde ran
more on his mony, then those offices and duties belonging to
wedlock, which time acquainted his Wife withall, contrary to her
owne expectation, and those delights which the estate of marriage
afforded, knowing her selfe also to be of a sprightly disposition, and
not to be easily tamed by houshold cares and attendances, shee waxed
weary of her husbands unkind courses, upbraided him daily with harsh
speeches, making his owne home meerly as a hell to him.
When she saw that this domesticke disquietnesse returned her no
benefit, but rather tended to her own consumption, then any
amendment in her miserable Husband, shee began thus to conferre with
her private thoughts. This Husband of mine liveth with me, as if he
were no Husband, or I his Wife; the marriage bed, which should be a
comfort to us both, seemeth hatefull to him, and as little pleasing to
mee, because his minde is on his money, his head busied with worldly
cogitations, and early and late in his counting-house, admitting no
familiar conversation with me. Why should not I be as respectlesse
of him, as he declares him selfe to be of me? I tooke him for an
Husband, brought him a good and sufficient Dowry, thinking him to be
man, and affected a woman as a man ought to doe, else he had never
beene any Husband of mine. If he be a Woman hater, why did he make
choice of me to be his Wife? If I had not intended to be of the World,
I could have coopt my selfe up in a Cloyster, and shorne my selfe a
Nunne, but that I was not born to such severity of life. My youth
shall be blasted with age before I can truly understand what youth is,
and I shall be branded with the disgraceful word barrennesse,
knowing my selfe meete and able to be a Mother, were my Husband but
wort the name of a Father, or expected issue and posterity, to leave
our memoriall to after times in our race, as all our predecessours
formerly have done, and for which mariage was chiefly instituted.
Castles long besieged, doe yeeld at the last, and women wronged by
their owne husbands, can hardly warrant their owne frailety,
especially living among so many temptations, which flesh and bloud are
not alwaies able to resist. Well, I meane to be advised in this
case, before I will hazard my honest reputation, either to suspition
or scandall, then which, no woman can have two heavier enemies, and
very few there are that can escape them.
Having thus a long while consulted with her selfe, and (perhaps)
oftner then twice or thrice; she became secretly acquainted with an
aged woman, generally reputed to be more then halfe a Saint, walking
alwayes very demurely in the streetes, counting (over and over) her
Paters Nosters, and all the Cities holy pardons hanging at her
girdle never talking of any thing, but the lives of the holy
Fathers, or the woundes of Saint Frances, all the World admiring her
sanctity of life, even as if shee were divinely inspired: this shee
Saint must bee our distressed womans Counsellour, and having found out
a convenient season, at large she imparted all her minde to her, in
some such manner as formerly you have heard, whereto she returned this
answer.
Now trust me Daughter, thy case is to be pittied, and so much the
rather, because thou art in the flowre and spring time of thy youth,
when not a minute of time is to bee left: for there is no greater an
errour in this life, then the losse of time, because it cannot bee
recovered againe; and when the fiends themselves affright us, yet if
wee keepe our embers still covered with warme ashes on the hearth,
they have not any power to hurt us. If any one can truly speake
thereof, then I am able to deliver true testimony; for I know, but not
without much perturbation of minde, and piercing afflictions in the
spirit; how much time I lost without any profit. And yet I lost not
all, for I would not have thee thinke me to bee so foolish, that I did
altogether neglect such an especiall benefit; which when I call to
mind, and consider now in what condition I am, thou must imagine, it
is no small hearts griefe to mee, that age should make me utterly
despised, and no fire affoorded to light my tinder.
With men it is not so, they are borne apt for a thousand
occasions, as well for the present purpose wee talke of, as infinite
other beside; yea, and many of them are more esteemed being aged, then
when they were young. But women serve onely for mens contentation, and
to bring Children; and therefore are they generally beloved, which
if they faile of, either it is by unfortunate marriage, or some
imperfection depending on nature, not through want of good will in
themselves. Wee have nothing in this World but what is given us, in
which regard, wee are to make use of our time, and employ it the
better while wee have it. For, when wee grow to bee old, our Husbands,
yea, our very dearest and nearest Friends, will scarsely looke on
us. Wee are then fit for nothing, but to sit by the fire in the
Kitchin, telling tales to the Cat, or counting the Pots and Pannes
on the shelves. Nay, which is worse, Rimes and Songs is made of us,
even in meere contempt of our age, and commendation of such as are
young, the daintiest morsels are fittest for them, and wee referred to
feed on the scrappes from their Trenchers, or such reversion as they
can spare us. I tell thee Daughter, thou couldst not make choyce of
a meeter woman in all the City, to whom thou mightest safely open
thy minde, and knowes better to advise thee then I doe. But remember
withall, that I am poore, and it is your part not to suffer poverty to
bee unsupplyed. I will make thee partaker of all these blessed
pardons, at every Altar I will say a Pater Noster, and an Ave Maria,
that thou maist prosper in thy hearts desires, and be defended from
foule sinne and shame, and so she ended her Motherly counsell.
Within a while after, it came to passe, that her Husband was invited
foorth to supper, with one named Herculano, a kinde Friend of his, but
his Wife refused to goe, because she had appointed a Friend to
Supper with her, to whom the old woman was employed as her
messenger, and was well recompenced for her labour. This friend was
a gallant proper youth, as any all Perugia yeelded, and scarcely was
hee seated at the Table, but her Husband was returned backe, and
called to bee let in at the doore. Which when shee perceived, she
was almost halfe dead with feare, and coveting to hide the young