Part 14

Their love continuing on still in this kinde, _Tingoccio_ prooved so fortunate in the businesse, that having better meanes then his companion, and more prevayling courses, when, where, and how to Court his Mistresse, which seemed to forward him effectually. All which _Meucio_ plainely perceived, and though it was tedious and wearisome to him, yet hoping to finde some successe at length: he would not take notice of any thing, as fearing to infringe the amity betweene him and _Tingoccio_, and so his hope to be quite supplanted. Thus the one triumphing in his loves happinesse, and the other hoping for his felicity to come; a lingaring sickenesse seazed on _Tingoccio_, which brought him to so low a condition, as at the length he dyed.

About some three or foure nights after, _Meucio_ being fast asleepe in his bed, the ghoste of _Tingoccio_ appeared to him, and called so loude, that _Meucio_ awaking, demanded who called him? I am thy friend _Tingoccio_, replied the ghoste, who according to my former promise made, am come again in vision to thee, to tell thee tidings out of the nether world. _Meucio_ was a while somewhat amazed; but, recollecting his more manly spirits together, boldly he said. My brother and friend, thou art heartily welcome: but I thought thou hadst beene utterly lost. Those things (quoth _Tingoccio_) are lost, which cannot be recovered againe, and if I were lost, how could I then be heere with thee? Alas _Tingoccio_, replyed _Meucio_, my meaning is not so: but I would be resolved, whether thou art among the damned soules, in the painefull fire of hell torments, or no? No (quoth _Tingoccio_) I am not sent thither, but for divers sinnes by mee committed I am to suffer very great and grievous paines. Then _Meucio_ demaunded particularly, the punishments inflicted there, for the severall sinnes committed heere: Wherein _Tingoccio_ fully resolved him. And upon further question, what hee would have to be done for him here, made answere, That _Meucio_ should cause Masses, Prayers and Almes deeds to be performed for him, which (he said) were very helpefull to the soules abiding there, and _Meucio_ promised to see them done.

As the ghost was offering to depart, _Meucio_ remembred _Tingoccioes_ Gossip _Monna Mita_, and raysing himselfe higher upon his pillowe, said. My memorie informeth me, friend _Tingoccio_, of your kinde Gossip _Monna Mita_, with whom (when you remained in this life) I knew you to be very familiar: let me intreat you then to tell me, what punishment is inflicted on you there, for that wanton sinne committed heere? Oh Brother _Meucio_, answered _Tingoccio_, so soone as my soule was landed there, one came immediately to me, who seemed to know all mine offences readily by heart, and forthwith commanded, that I should depart thence into a certaine place, where I must weepe for my sinnes in very grievous paines. There I found more of my companions, condemned to the same punishment as I was, and being among them, I called to minde some wanton dalliances, which had passed betweene my Gossip and me, and expecting therefore farre greater afflictions, then as yet I felt (although I was in a huge fire, and exceedingly hot) yet with conceite of feare, I quaked and trembled wondrously.

One of my other Consorts being by me, and perceiving in what an extreame agony I was; presently said unto me. My friend, what hast thou done more, then any of us here condemned with thee, that thou tremblest and quakest, being in so hot a fire? Oh my friend (quoth I) I am in feare of a greater judgement then this, for a grievous offence by mee heretofore committed while I lived. Then hee demaunded of mee what offence it was, whereto thus I answered. It was my chance in the other world, to be Godfather at a childs Christning, and afterward I grew so affectionate to the childs mother, as (indeed) I kissed her twice or thrise. My companyon laughing at me in mocking manner, replyed thus. Goe like an Asse as thou art, and be no more afraid hereafter, for here is no punishment inflicted, in any kinde whatsoever, for such offences of frailty committed, especially with Gossips, as I my selfe can witnesse.

Now day drew on, and the Cockes began to crow, a dreadfull hearing to walking spirits, when _Tingoccio_ said to _Meucio_. Farewell my friendly companion, for I may tarry no longer with thee, and instantly hee vanished away. _Meucio_ having heard this confession of his friend, and verily beleeving it for a truth, that no punishment was to be inflicted in the future world, for offences of frailty in this life, and chiefly with Gossips: began to condemne his owne folly, having bin a Gossip to many wives, yet modesty restrained him from such familiar offending. And therefore being sorry for this grosse ignorance, hee made a vowe to be wiser hereafter. And if Fryar _Reynard_ had been acquainted with this kind of shrift (as doubtlesse he was, though his Gossip _Agnesia_ knew it not) he needed no such Syllogismes, as he put in practise, when he converted her to his lustfull knavery, in the comparison of kinred by him moved, concerning her husband, the childe and himselfe. But, these are the best fruits of such Fryerly Confessions, to compasse the issue of their inordinate appetites; yet clouded with the cloake of Religion, which hath beene the overthrow of too many.

* * * * *

By this time the gentle blast of _Zephirus_ began to blow, because the Sunne grew neere his setting, wherewith the King concluded his Novell, and none remaining more to be thus imployed: taking the Crowne from off his owne head, he placed it on Madame _Laurettaes_, saying, Madame, I Crowne you with your owne Crowne, as Queene of our Company. You shall henceforth command as Lady and Mistresse, in such occasions as shall be to your liking, and for the contentment of us all; With which words he set him downe. And Madame _Lauretta_ being now created Queene, shee caused the Master of the houshold to bee called, to whom she gave command, that the Tables should be prepared in the pleasant vally, but at a more convenient houre, then formerly had beene, because they might (with better ease) returne backe to the Pallace. Then shee tooke order likewise, for all such other necessary matters, as should bee required in the time of her Regiment: and then turning her selfe to the whole Company, she began in this manner.

It was the Will of _Dioneus_ yesternight, that our discourses for this day, should concerne the deceits of wives to their Husbands. And were it not to avoyde taxation, of a spleenitive desire to be revenged, like the dog being bitten, biteth againe: I could command our to morrows conference, to touch mens treacheries towards their wives. But because I am free from any such fiery humour, let it be your generall consideration, to speake of such queint beguylings, as have heretofore past, either of the woman to the man, the man to the woman, or of one man to another: and I am of opinion, that they will yeeld us no lesse delight, then those related (this day) have done. When she had thus spoken, she rose; granting them all liberty, to goe recreate themselves untill Supper time.

The Ladies being thus at their owne disposing, some of them bared their legges and feete, to wash them in the coole current. Others, not so minded, walked on the greene grasse, and under the goodly spreading trees. _Dioneus_ and Madame _Fiammetta_, they sate singing together, the love-warre betweene _Arcit_ and _Palemon_. And thus with diversity of disports, in choice delight and much contentment, all were imployed, till Supper drew neere. When the houre was come, and the Tables covered by the Ponds side: we need not question their dyet and dainties, infinite Birds sweetly singing about them, as no musicke in the world could be more pleasing; beside calme windes, fanning their faces from the neighbouring hilles (free from flyes, or the least annoyance) made a delicate addition to their pleasure.

No sooner were the Tables withdrawne, and all risen: but they fetcht a few turnings about the vally, because the Sunne was not (as yet) quite set. Then in the coole evening, according to the Queenes appointment: in a soft and gentle pace, they walked homeward: devising on a thousand occasions, as well those which the dayes discourses had yeelded, as others of their owne inventing beside. It was almost darke night, before they arrived at the Pallace; where, with variety of choice Wines, and abounding plenty of rare Banquetting, they out-wore the little toile and wearinesse, which the long walke had charged them withall. Afterward, according to their wonted order, the Instruments being brought and played on, they fell to dancing about the faire Fountaine; _Tindaro_ intruding (now and then) the sound of his Bagpipe, to make the musicke seeme more melodious. But in the end, the Queene commanded Madame _Philomena_ to sing; whereupon the Instruments being tuned fit for the purpose, thus she began.

The Song.

The Chorus Sung by the whole Company.

_Wearisome is my life to me, Because I cannot once againe returne; Unto the place which made me first to mourne._

_Nothing I know, yet feele a powerfull fire, Burning within my brest, Through deepe desire; To be once more where first I felt unrest, Which cannot be exprest. O my sole good! O my best happinesse! Why am I thus restrainde? Is there no comfort in this wretchednesse? Then let me live content, to be thus painde. Wearisome is my life to me, &c._

_I cannot tell what was that rare delight, Which first enflamde my soule, And gave command in spight, That I should find no ease by day or night, But still live in controule. I see, I heare, and feele a kinde of blisse, Yet find no forme at all: Other in their desire, finde blessednesse, But I have none, nor thinke I ever shall. Wearisome is my life to me, &c._

_Tell me if I may hope in following dayes, To have but one poore sight, Of those bright Sunny rayes, Dazeling my sence, did o'recome me quite, Bequeath'd to wandring wayes. If I be posted off and may not prove. To have the smallest grace: Or but to know, that this proceeds from love, Why should I live despisde in every place? Wearisome is my life to me, &c._

_Me thinkes milde favour whispers in mine eare, And bids me not despaire; There will a time appeare To quell and quite confound consuming care, And joy surmount proud feare. In hope that gracious time will come at length, To cheare my long dismay: My spirits reassume your former strength, And never dread to see that joyfull day. Wearisome is my life to me, Because I cannot once againe returne; Unto the place which made me first to mourne._

This Song gave occasion to the whole Company, to imagine, that some new and pleasing apprehension of Love, constrained Madame _Philomena_ to sing in this manner. And because (by the discourse thereof) it plainely appeared, that shee had felt more then shee saw, shee was so much the more happy, and the like was wished by all the rest. Wherefore, after the Song was ended; the Queene remembring, that the next day following was Friday, turning her selfe graciously to them all, thus she spake.

You know noble Ladies, and you likewise most noble Gentlemen, that to morrow is the day consecrated to the Passion of our blessed Lord and Saviour, which (if you have not forgotten it, as easily you cannot) we devoutly celebrated, Madame _Neiphila_ being then Queene, ceasing from all our pleasant discoursing, as we did the like on the Saturday following, sanctifying the sacred Sabboth, in due regard of it selfe. Wherefore, being desirous to imitate precedent good example, which in worthy manner shee began to us all: I hold it very decent and necessary, that we should asttaine to morrow, and the day ensuing, from recounting any of our pleasant Novels, reducing to our memories, what was done (as on those dayes) for the salvation of our soules. This holy and Religious motion made by the Queene, was commendably allowed by all the assembly, and therefore, humbly taking their leave of her, and an indifferent part of the night being already spent; severally they betooke themselves to their Chambers.

_The end of the Seaventh day._

THE EIGHT DAY.

Whereon all the Discourses, passe under the Rule and Government, of the Honourable Ladie LAURETTA. And the Argument imposed, is, Concerning such Wittie deceyvings; as have, or may be put in practise, by Wives to their Husbands; Husbands to their Wives: Or one man towards another.

The Induction.

Earely on the Sonday Morning, _Aurora_ shewing her selfe bright and lovely; the Sunnes Golden beames beganne to appeare, on the toppes of the neere adjoyning Mountaines; so, that Hearbes, Plants, Trees, and all things else, were verie evidently to be discerned. The Queene and her Companie, being all come foorth of their Chambers, and having walked a while abroad, in the goodly greene Meadowes, to taste the sweetnesse of the fresh and wholesome ayre, they returned backe againe into the Palace, because it was their dutie so to do.

Afterward, betweene the houres of seaven and eight, they went to heare Masse, in a faire Chappell neere at hand, and thence returned to their Lodgings. When they had dined merrily together, they fell to their wonted singing and dauncing: Which beeing done, such as were so pleased (by License of the Queene first obtained) went either to their rest, or such exercises as they tooke most delight in. When midday, and the heate thereof was well over-past, so that the aire seemed mild and temperate: according as the Queene had commanded; they were all seated againe about the Fountaine, with intent to prosecute their former pastime. And then Madame _Neiphila_, by the charge imposed on her, as first speaker for this day, beganne as followeth.

Gulfardo _made a match or wager, with the Wife of_ Gasparuolo, _for the obtaining of her amorous favour, in regard of a summe of money first to be given her. The money hee borrowed of her Husband, and gave it in payment to her, as in case of discharging him from her Husbands debt. After his returne home from_ Geneway, _hee told him in the presence of his wife, how he had payde the whole summe to her, with charge of delivering it to her Husband, which she confessed to be true, albeit greatly against her will._

The First Novell.

_Wherein is declared, that such women as will make sale of their honestie, are sometimes over-reached in their payment, and justly served as they should be._

Seeing it is my fortune, Gracious Ladies, that I must give beginning to this dayes discoursing, by some such Novel which I thinke expedient; as duty bindeth me, I am therewith well contented. And because the deceits of Women to men, have beene at large and liberally related; I will tell you a subtile tricke of a man to a Woman. Not that I blame him for the deede, or thinke the deceyte not well fitted to the woman: but I speake it in a contrarie nature, as commending the man, and condemning the woman very justly, as also to shew, how men can as well beguile those crafty companions, which least beleeve any such cunning in them, as they that stand most on their artificiall skill.

Howbeit, to speake more properly, the matter by me to be reported, deserveth not the reproachfull title of deceite, but rather of a recompence duly returned: because women ought to be chaste and honest, & to preserve their honour as their lives, without yeelding to the contamination thereof, for any occasion whatsoever. And yet (neverthelesse, in regard of our frailty) many times we proove not so constant as we should be: yet I am of opinion, that she which selleth her honestie for money, deserveth justly to be burned. Whereas on the contrary, she that falleth into the offence, onely through intire affection (the powerfull lawes of Love beeing above all resistance) in equity meriteth pardon, especially of a Judge not over-rigorous: as not long since wee heard from _Philostratus_, in revealing what hapned to Madam _Phillippa de Prato_, upon the dangerous Edict.

Understand then, my most worthy Auditors, that there lived sometime in _Millaine_ an _Almaigne_ Soldiour, named _Gulfardo_, of commendable carriage in his person, and very faithfull to such as he served, a matter not common among the _Almaignes_. And because he made just repayment, to every one which lent him monies; he grew to such especiall credit, and was so familiar with the very best Marchants; as (manie times) he could not be so ready to borrow, as they were willing alwaies to lend him. He thus continuing in the Cittie of _Millaine_, fastened his affection on a verie beautifull Gentlewoman, named Mistresse _Ambrosia_, Wife unto a rich Merchant, who was called Signior _Gasparuolo Sagastraccio_, who had good knowledge of him, and respectively used him. Loving this Gentlewoman with great discretion, without the least apprehension of her husband: he sent upon a day to entreate conference with her, for enjoying the fruition of her love, and she should find him ready to fulfill whatsoever she pleased to command him, as, at any time he would make good his promise.

The Gentlewoman, after divers of these private solicitings, resolutely answered, that she was as ready to fulfill the request of _Gulfardo_, provided, that two especiall considerations might ensue thereon. First, the faithfull concealing thereof from any person living. Next, because she knew him to be rich, and she had occasion to use two hundred Crowns, about businesse of important consequence: he should freely bestow so many on her, and (ever after) she was to be commanded by him. _Gulfardo_ perceiving the covetousnesse of this woman, who (notwithstanding his doting affection) he thought to be intirely honest to her Husband: became so deepely offended at her vile answere, that his fervent love converted into as earnest loathing her; determining constantlie to deceive her, and to make her avaritious motion, the only means whereby to effect it.

He sent her word, that he was willing to performe her request, or any farre greater matter for her: in which respect, he onely desired for to know, when she would be pleased to have him come see her, and to receive the money of him? No creature hee acquainted with his setled purpose, but onely a deere friend and kinde companion, who alwayes used to keepe him company, in the neerest occasions that concerned him. The Gentlewoman, or rather most disloyall wife, uppon this answer sent her, was extraordinarily jocond and contented, returning him a secret Letter, wherein she signified: that _Gasparuolo_ her husband, had important affaires which called him to _Geneway_: but he should understand of his departure, and then (with safety) he might come see her, as also his bringing of the Crownes.

In the meane while, _Gulfardo_ having determined what he would do, watched a convenient time, when he went unto _Gasparuolo_, and sayde: Sir, I have some businesse of maine importance, and shall neede to use but two hundred Crownes onely: I desire you to lend me so many Crownes, upon such profite as you were wont to take of mee, at other times when I have made use of you, and I shall not faile you at my day.

_Gasparuolo_ was well contented with the motion, and made no more adoe, but counted downe the Crownes: departing thence (within few dayes after) for _Geneway_, according** to his Wives former message; she giving _Gulfardo_ also intelligence of his absence, that now (with safety) hee might come see her, and bring the two hundred Crownes with him.

_Gulfardo_, taking his friend in his company, went to visite Mistresse _Ambrosia_, whom he found in expectation of his arrivall, and the first thing he did, he counted downe the two hundred Crownes; and delivering them to her in the presence of his friend, saide: Mistresse _Ambrosia_, receive these two hundred Crownes, which I desire you to pay unto your Husband on my behalfe, when he is returned from _Geneway. Ambrosia_, receyved the two hundred Crownes, not regarding wherefore _Gulfardo_ used these words: because shee verily beleeved, that hee spake in such manner, because his friend should take no notice, of his giving them to her, upon any covenant passed betweene them; whereuppon, she sayde. Sir, I will pay them to my Husband for you; and cause him to give you a sufficient discharge: but first I will count them over my selfe, to see whether the summe be just, or no. And having drawne them over upon the Table, the summe containing truly two hundred Crownes (wherewith she was most highly contented) she lockt them safe uppe in her Cuppe-boord, and _Gulfardoes_ Friend being gone (as formerly it was compacted betweene them) shee came to converse more familiarly with him, having provided a banquet for him. What passed between them afterward, both then, and oftentimes beside, before her Husbande returned home, is a matter out of my element, and rather requires my ignorance then knowledge.

When _Gasparuolo_ was come from _Geneway, Gulfardo_ observing a convenient time, when he was sitting at the doore with his Wife; tooke his Friend with him, and comming to _Gasparuolo_, said. Worthy Sir, the two hundred Crownes which you lent me, before your journy to _Geneway_, in regard they could not serve my turne, to compasse the businesse for which I borrowed them: within a day or two after, in the presence of this Gentleman my friend, I made repayment of them to your wife, and therefore I pray you crosse me out of your booke.

_Gasparuolo_ turning to his Wife, demanded; Whether it was so, or no? She beholding the witnesse standing by, who was also present at her receyving them: durst not make deniall, but thus answered. Indeede Husband, I received two hundred Crownes of the Gentleman, and never remembred, to acquaint you therewith since your comming home: but hereafter I will be made no more your receiver, except I carried a quicker memory.

Then saide _Gasparuolo_: Signior _Gulfardo_, I finde you alwaies a most honest Gentleman, and will be readie at any time, to doe you the like, or a farre greater kindnesse; depart at your pleasure, and feare not the crossing of my Booke. So _Gulfardo_ went away merrily contented, and _Ambrosia_ was served as she justly merited; she paying the price of her owne leudnesse to her Husband, which she had a more covetous intent to keepe, questionlesse, not caring how many like lustfull matches shee coulde make, to be so liberally rewarded, if this had succeeded to her minde: whereas he shewed himselfe wise and discreete, in paying nothing for his pleasure, and requiting a covetous queane in her kinde.

_A lustie youthfull Priest of_ Varlungo, _fell in love with a pretty woman, named_ Monna Belcolore. _To compasse his amorous desire, hee lefte his Cloake (as a pledge of further payment) with her. By a subtile sleight afterward, he made meanes to borrow a Morter of her, which when hee sent home againe in the presence of her Husband; he demaunded to have his Cloake sent him, as having left it in pawne for the Morter. To pacifie her Husband, offended that shee did not lend the Priest the Morter without a pawne: she sent him backe his Cloake againe, albeit greatly against her will._

The Second Novell.

_Approving, that no promise is to be kept with such Women as will make sale of their honesty for coyne. A warning also for men, not to suffer Priests to be over familiar with their wives._