Church of Saint Michaell d'Horta, and passing along by the Adamari, so
farre as to Saint Johns Church, which evermore was his customarie
Walke: many goodly Marble Tombes were then about the saide Church,
as now adayes are at Saint Reparata, and divers more beside. He
entring among the Collumbes of Porphiry, and the other Sepulchers
being there, because the doore of the Church was shut: Signior Betto
and his companie, came riding from S. Reparata, and espying Signior
Guldo among the graves and tombes, said. Come, let us go make some
jests to anger him. So putting the spurs to their horses, they rode
apace towards him: and being upon him before he perceived them, one of
them said. Guido thou refusest to be one of our society, and seekest
for that which never was: when thou hast found it, tell us, what
wilt thou do with it?
Guido seeing himselfe round engirt with them, sodainly thus replyed:
Gentlemen, you may use mee in your owne house as you please. And
setting his hand on one of the Tombes (which was some-what great) he
tooke his rising, and leapt quite over it on the further side, as
being of an agile and sprightly body, and being thus freed from
them, he went away to his owne lodging. They stoode all like men
amazed, strangely looking one upon another, and began afterward to
murmure among themselves: That Guido was a man without any
understanding, and the answer which he had made unto them, was to no
purpose, neither favoured of any discretion, but meerely came from
an empty brain because they had no more to do in the place where now
they were, then any of the other Citizens, and Signior Guido
(himselfe) as little as any of them; whereto Signior Betto thus
replyed.
Alas Gentlemen, it is you your selves that are void of
understanding: for, if you had but observed the answer which he made
unto us: hee did honestly, and (in verie few words) not onely
notably expresse his owne wisedome, but also deservedly reprehend
us. Because, if wee observe things as we ought to doe, Graves and
Tombes are the houses of the dead, ordained and prepared to be their
latest dwellings. He tolde us moreover, that although we have heere
(in this life) other habitations and abidings; yet these (or the like)
must at last be our houses. To let us know, and all other foolish,
indiscreete, and unleartied men, that we are worse then dead men, in
comparison of him, and other men equall to him in skill and
learning. And therefore, while wee are heere among these Graves and
Monuments, it may well be said, that we are not farre from our owne
houses, or how soone we shall be possessors of them, in regard of
the frailty attending on us.
Then every one could presently say, that Signior Guido had spoken
nothing but the truth, and were much ashamed of their owne folly,
and shallow estimation which they had made of Guido, desiring never
more after to meddle with him so grossely, and thanking Signior Betto,
for so well reforming their ignorance, by his much better
apprehension.
THE SIXT DAY, THE TENTH NOVELL
WHEREIN MAY BE OBSERVED, WHAT PALPABLE ABUSES DO MANY TIMES
PASSE, UNDER THE COUNTERFEIT CLOAKE OF RELIGION
Fryer Onyon, promised certaine honest people of the Countrey, to
shew them a Feather of the same Phoenix, that was with Noah in his
Arke. In sted whereof, he found Coales, which he avouched to be
those very coals, wherewith the same Phoenix was roasted.
When of them had delivered their Novels, Dioneus knowing, that it
remained in him to relate the last for this day: without attending for
any solemne command (after he had imposed silence on them, that
could not sufficiently commend the witty reprehension of Guido),
thus he began. Wise and worthy Ladies, although by the priviledge
you have granted, it is lawfull for me to speake any thing best
pleasing to my self: yet notwithstanding, it is not any part of my
meaning, to varrie from the matter and method, whereof you have spoken
to very good purpose. And therefore, following your footsteppes, I
entend to tell you, how craftily, and with a Rampiar sodainly raised
in his owne defence: a Religious Frier of Saint Anthonies Order,
shunned a shame, which two O wily companions had prepared for him. Nor
let it offend you, if I run into more large discourse, then this day
hath bene used by any, for the apter compleating of my Novell:
because, if you well observe it, the Sun is as yet in the middest of
heaven, and therefore you may the better forbeare me.
Certaldo, as (perhaps) you know, or have heard, is a Village in
the Vale of Elsa, and under the authority and commaund of our
Florence, which although it be but small: yet (in former times) it
hath bin inhabited with Gentlemen, and people of especiall respect.
A religious Friar of S. Anthonies Order, named Friar Onyon, had long
time used to resort thither, to receive the benevolent almes, which
those charitably affected people in simplicity gave him, and chiefly
at divers daies of the year, when their bounty and devotion would
extend themselves more largely then at other seasons. And so much
the rather, because they thought him to be a good Pastor of holy
life in outward appearance, and carried a name of much greater matter,
then remained in the man indeed; beside, that part of the country
yeilded far more plentifull abundance of Onyons, then all other in
Tuscany elsewhere, a kinde of foode greatly affected by those
Friars, as men alwaies of hungry and good appetite. This Friar Onyon
was a man of litle stature red haire, a chearfull countenance, and the
world afforded not a more crafty companion, then he. Moreover,
albeit he had very little knowledge or learning, yet he was so prompt,
ready and voluble of speech, uttering often he knew not what himselfe:
that such as were not wel acquainted with his qualities, supposed
him to be a singular Rhetoritian, excelling Cicero or Quintilian
themselves; and he was a gossip, friend, or deerely affected, by every
one dwelling in those parts. According to his wonted custome, one time
he went thither in the month of August, and on a Sunday morning,
when all the dwellers thereabout, were present to heare Masse, and
in the chiefest Church above all the rest: when the Friar saw time
convenient for his purpose, he advanced himselfe, and began to
speake in this manner.
Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, you know you have kept a commendable
custom, in sending yeerly to the poore brethren of our Lord Baron S.
Anthony, both of your Corne and other provision, some more, some
lesse, all according to their power, means, and devotion, to the end
that blessed S. Anthony should be the more carefull of your oxen,
sheep, asses, swine, pigs, and other cattle. Moreover, you have used
to pay (especially such as have their names registred in our
Fraternity) those duties which annually you send unto us. For the
collection whereof, I am sent by my Superior, namely our L. Abbot, and
therfore (with Gods blessing) you may come after noone hither, when
you shal heare the Bels of the Church ring: then wil I make a
predication to you; you shall kisse the Crosse, and beside, because
I know you al to be most devout servants to our Lord Baron S. Anthony,
in especiall grace and favor, I wil shew you a most holy and goodly
Relique, which I my selfe (long since) brought from the holy Land
beyond the seas. If you desire to know what it is, let me tell you,
that it is one of the Feathers of the same Phoenix, which was in the
Arke with the Patriarch Noah. And having thus spoken, he became
silent, returning backe to heare Masse. While hee delivered these
and the like speeches, among the other people then in the church,
there were two shrewde and crafty Companions; the one, named John de
Bragoniero, and the other, Biagio Pizzino. These subtile Fellowes,
after they had heard the report of Fryer Onyons Relique: althogh
they were his intimate friends, and came thither in his company; yet
they concluded betweene themselves, to shew him a tricke of
Legierdumaine, and to steale the Feather from him. When they had
intelligence of Friar Onyons dining that day at the Castle, with a
worthy Friend of his: no sooner was he set at the Table, but away went
they in all haste, to the Inne where the Fryar frequented, with this
determination, that Biagio should hold conference with the Friars boy,
while his fellow ransackt the Wallet, to finde the Feather, and
carry it away with him, for a future observation, what the Friar would
say unto the people, when he found the losse of the Feather, and could
not performe his promise to them.
The Fryars Boy, whom some called Guccio Balena, some Guccio Imbrata,
and others Guccio Porco, was such a knavish Lad, and had so many bad
qualities, as Lippo Topo the cunning Painter, or the most curious
Poeticall wit, had not any ability to describe them. Friar Onyon
himself did often observe his behaviour, and would make this report
among his Friends. My Boy (quoth he) hath nine rare qualities in
him, and such they are, as if Salomon, Aristotle, or Seneca had
onely but one of them: it were sufficient to torment and trouble all
their vertue, all their senses, and all their sanctity. Consider then,
what manner of man he is like to be, having nine such rarities, yet
voide of all vertue, wit, or goodnes. And when it was demaunded of
Friar Onyon, what these nine rare conditions were: hee having them all
readie by heart, and in rime, thus answered.
Boyes I have knowne, and seene,
And heard of many:
But,
For Lying, Loytring, Lazinesse,
For Facing, Filching, Filthinesse;
For Carelesse, Gracelesse, all Unthriftinesse,
My Boy excelleth any.
Now, over and beside all these admirable qualities, hee hath manie
more such singularities, which (in favour towards him) I am faine to
conceale. But that which I smile most at in him, is, that he would
have a Wife in every place where he commeth, yea, and a good house
to boot too: for, in regard his beard beginneth to shew it selfe,
rising thicke in haire, blacke and amiable, he is verily perswaded,
that all Women will fall in love with him; and if they refuse to
follow him, he will in all hast run after them. But truly, he is a
notable servant to mee, for I cannot speake with any one, and in never
so great secrecy, but he will be sure to heare his part; and when
any question is demanded of me, he standes in such awe and feare of my
displeasure: that he will bee sure to make the first answer, yea or
no, according as he thinketh it most convenient.
Now, to proceede where we left, Friar Onyon having left this
serviceable youth at his lodging, to see that no bodie should meddle
with his commodities, especially his Wallet, because of the sacred
things therein contained: Guccio Imbrata, who as earnestly affected to
be in the Kitchin, as Birds to hop from branch to branch,
especially, when anie of the Chamber-maides were there, espyed one
of the Hostesses Female attendants, a grosse fat Trugge, low of
stature, ill faced, and worse formed, with a paire of brests like
two bumbards, smelling loathsomely of grease and sweate; downe shee
descended into the Kitchin, like a Kite upon a peece of Carion. This
Boy, or Knave, chuse whither you will style him, having carelesly left
Fryar Onyons Chamber doore open, and all the holy things so much to be
neglected, although it was then the moneth of August, when heate is in
the highest predominance, yet hee would needs sit downe by the fire,
and began to conferre with this amiable creature, who was called by
the name of Nuta.
Being set close by her, he told her, that he was a Gentleman by
Atturniship, and that he had more millions of Crownes, then all his
life time would serve him to spend; beside those which he payed away
dayly, as having no convenient im-ployment for them.
Moreover, he knew how to speake, and do such things, as were
beyond wonder or admiration. And, never remembring his olde tatterd
Friars Cowle, which was so snottie and greazie, that good store of
kitchin stuffe might have beene boiled out of it; as also a foule
slovenly Trusse or halfe doublet, all baudied with bowsing, fat
greazie lubberly sweating, and other drudgeries in the Convent
Kitchin, where he was an Officer in the meanest credite. So that to
describe this sweet youth in his lively colours, both for naturall
perfections of body, and artificiall composure of his Garments;
never came the fowlest silks out of Tartaria or India, more ugly or
unsightly to bee lookt upon. And for a further addition to his neate
knavery, his breeches were so rent betweene his legges, his shooes and
stockings had bin at such a mercilesse massacre: that the gallantest
Commandador of Castile (though he had never so lately bin releast
out of slavery) could have wisht for better garments, then he; or make
larger promises, then he did to his Nuta. Protesting to entitle her as
his onely, to free her from the Inne and Chamber thraldomes, if she
would live with him, be his Love, partaker of his present possessions,
and so to succeed in his future Fortunes. All which bravadoes,
though they were belcht foorth with admirable insinuations: yet they
converted into smoke, as all such braggadochio behaviours do, and he
was as wise at the ending, as when he began.
Our former named two craftie Companions, seeing Guccio Porco so
seriously employed about Nuta, was there-with not a little
contented, because their intended labour was now more then halfe
ended. And perceiving no contradiction to crosse their proceeding,
into Friar Onyons chamber entred they, finding it ready open for their
purpose: where the first thing that came into their hand in search,
was the wallet. When they had opened it, they found a small Cabinet,
wrapped in a great many foldings of rich Taffata; and having
unfolded it, a fine formall Key was hanging thereat: wherwith having
unlockt the Cabinet, they found a faire Feather of a Parrots taile,
which they supposed to bee the verie same, that he meant to shew the
people of Certaldo. And truly (in those dayes) it was no hard matter
