Chapter 4

kindnes which he had found at her hands, toke his leaue, and imbarking himselfe, he passed to Branditio, and from thence from place to place till hee came to Trani, where findinge diuers of the Citie wherein he dwelt, that were Drapers, he was apparelled of them (in a maner for Gods sake) to whom he told the discourse of all his fortune, except the coafer, who lent him a horse, and sente diuers in his company to bring him home to Rauello. And when he was in safety arriued, he thanked God that had brought him thither, where he searched his bouget with more leasure then he did at the first, and founde that he had manye stones of so greate value, that sellinge them at price reasonable, for lesse then they were worth, his substaunce did amount to so much more then it was when he departed from his house. And when he had founde the meanes to dispatch and sell his Jewels, he sent to Corfu a good peece of money, to the woman that toke him oute of the Sea, to recompence the kindnes, that he had found at her handes: and the like to them of Trani, that had giuen him apparell, the rest he toke to himselfe and would be no more a Marchaunte, but liued at home in honest estate to the ende of his life.

THE THIRTY-SIXTH NOUELL.

_Andreuccio of Perugia being come to Naples to buy horses, was in one night surprised, with three marueilous accidentes. All which hauinge escaped with one Rubie he retourned home to his house._

There was at Perugia a yong man, called Andreuccio di Pietro, a horse corser, who vnderstanding of a horse faire at Naples, did put fiue hundred Crownes in his pursse, and neuer traueling before from his owne house, went thither with certaine other marchants, who arriued at Naples vpon a Sonday at night. The next morninge, accordinge to the instructions giuen him by his host, he went to the fayre, where he viewed and saw many horses, whereof diuers did very well like him, and demaunded their prises: but with none he could agree of price. And to shew himselfe a right well able man to paye for that he boughte, many times (like a dolte and foole as he was) hee drew out his pursse stuffed with crownes, in the presence of them that passed to and fro. It chaunced that a yonge woman of Scicilia (which was very fayre, but at euery man’s commaundement, and that for little hire) passed by as he was shewinge his purse, not marked or perceiued by Andreuccio, who sodenlye saide to her selfe: “What is she in all this towne, that should be like vnto me, if all those crownes were mine?” And so passed forth. There was with this yong peate, an old woman, a Scicilian also, who so sone as she espied Andreuccio, forsoke her companion and ran affectuouslye to imbrace him. Which the yong woman perceyuinge (not speaking a word) she gaue good heede to that they said: Andreuccio tourninge himselfe to the olde woman, immediatlye knew her, and reioysed muche that he had so happely met her: whom after greate gratulacions and manye welcomes, she promised to visite at his lodginge, which done, she departed from Andreuccio, and hee retourned to buy his horsse, howbeit that morning he bought none at all. The yonge dame, which had first seene this pursse, and marked the acquaintaunce between the old woman and him, to assaie by what meanes she might get that moneye, or at leaste some part thereof, subtelly asked the old woman what man that was, of whence, what he did there, and how he knew her. To whom the olde woman particularlye recompted her whole acquaintaunce, how she dwelt of long time in Scicilia with his father, and afterwards at Perugia. And likewise she told her when he retourned, and for what cause hee was come to Naples. This iollie wenche, wholy informed of Andreuccio his parentes, and of their names, made a plat and foundation, by subtill and craftie meanes, how to obtaine her purpose: and when she was come home to her house, she sent the old woman about businesse for that day, because she might not retourne to Andreuccio. She had dwelling with her a pretie girle, well noseled and brought vp in doing of arrantes, whom about euening, she sent to the lodging of Andreuccio to make inquirie for him: where by fortune she chaunced to finde him standing alone at his hostes doore, whom the girle did aske if he knew not an honest man of Perugia called Andreuccio di Pietro, that hosted there: “Yes my girle (quoth he) I am the same man.” Then she toke him a side, and saide vnto him. “Sir, there is a gentlewoman of this towne, that would gladly speake with you, if it were your pleasure.” Which when Andreuccio heard, by and by hee called to minde, and seemed to himselfe that hee was a goodly yonge man of person, and that withoute doubte the same woman was in loue with him, because in all Naples he thought ther was none so proper a stripling as himselfe: whom incontinently he aunsweared, that he would waite vpon her, demaunding when he should come and to what place. To whom she made answere. “Euen when it pleaseth you sir, for my maistresse attendeth at home for you.{”} Andreuccio vpon that, withoute any word spoken to his hoste, whither he was gone, said to the wench. “Go thou before, and I will follow.” And the girle did conduct him to her maistres house, which dwelt in a streate called Marpertugio, a name shewing the honestie of the streate, wher she dwelt. But he knowing and suspecting nothing, thought the place to be right honest that he went vnto, and the wife likewise honest and good, and boldlie entred the house, the wenche going before: and mountinge vp the staiers, this yonge gristle called her maistres, sayinge vnto her that maister Andreuccio was come. Who redie at the vpper steppe, seemed as though she attended for him. This Ladie was fine and had a good face, well apparelled and trimmed after the beste maner. And seinge maister Andreuccio at hand, descended two steppes of the staiers with her armes open to imbrace him, foldinge the same aboute his necke, and paused a certaine space without speaking any word, as thoughe great loue and earneste affection enforced her so to doe. Then weeping, she kissed his face, and with a voice halfe vttered betwene howling and speaking, she said vnto him: “O Andreuccio mine owne deare hart, most hartely welcome.” Andreuccio marueyling at those tender words, all amazed aunsweared: “Gentlewoman, and you also well found out.” Afterwards she toke him by the hand and conueied him vp into a parlour, and from thence (without further talke) into a chamber, which was all perfumed with Roses, with flowers of Orenges, and other sweete smelles: where he sawe a bedde well furnished, and diuers sortes of apparell placed vppon presses (accordinge to the maner of that countrie) and many other faire and riche ornaments. By reason whereof Andreuccio, which was but a freshe water Souldiour, thought that shee had been a great ladie. And they two sittinge together vppon a cheste, at her bed’s feete, she began thus to saye vnto him. “Andreuccio, I am assured you do greatly wonder at these faire words, this curteous interteignement, and at the teares which I let fall. And no marueile, although you do not know mee, and peraduenture neuer heard tel of me before: but I wil declare vnto you a thing more straunge and marueilous then that is: and to tell you plaine, I am your owne sister, and I say vnto you, that sith it hath pleased my Lord God, to shew me so much grace and fauour, that I doe now see one of my brethren before I die (althoughe I desire to see them all) I care not when hee do call mee from this wretched world: I am so in minde comforted and releued. And where it may chaunce, that you neuer vnderstoode so much before this time, I will tell you the whole discourse. So it is, that Pietro my father and yours, dwelt of long time (whereof it is possible, that you haue heard report) at Palermo, where through the goodnesse and frendlye behauioure of him, there be yet some remayninge that did beare him singular good wil and frendship. But amonges other which loued him moste, my mother (which was a gentlewoman, and then a widow) without doubt did loue him best: in such wise, that shee forgetting the loue of her father, and of her brethren, and the loue of her owne honour and reputation, they dealed so together as they begat mee, and am here as you see. Afterwardes when your father and mine had occasion to depart from Palermo, he retourned to Perugia, leauing my mother behinde, and me his yong doughter, neuer after that (so farre as I knowe) caringe neither for my mother or me: whereof if he were not my father, I coulde blame him very much, consideringe his ingratitude towards my mother. Albeit, he ought to vse towards mee so muche affection and fatherlye loue as to his owne doughter, being come of no kitchin maide, ne yet of anye base woman: for my mother otherwise not knowinge what he was, did commit into his handes (moued of mere loue) both herselfe and all that she had. But what? thinges ill done, and so longe time past, are more easie to be reprehended then amended. Thus the matter went, he left mee a litle infante at Palermo, where when I was growen to yeares, my mother which was riche, gaue mee to wife, to one of the house of Gergenti, a gentleman of great honesty and reputation, who for the loue of my mother and me, retourned to dwell at Palermo, where greatly fauouringe the faction of the Guelphi, hee began to practise a certaine enterprise with oure king Charles, which being knowen to king Frederick, before the same enterprise could take effect, we were forced to flie out of Scicilia: at what time I had thought to haue been the chiefest ladie, that euer dwelte in that Island. Wherfore taking with vs such fewe things as wee were able to carie (fewe I maye well call them, in respect of them we possessed) and leauinge our houses and Palaces, we came vnto this citie: where we found kinge Charles so beningne towards vs, that he hath recompenced part of our losses, which we sustened in his seruice. For he hath giuen vs possessions and houses, with good prouision of housholde to my husband and your brother in law, as you now see and perceiue: and in this maner I do remaine here, where (sweete brother) I thancke God (and not you) that at this present I see you:” and therwithall she toke him about the necke, weeping tenderly, and then kissed his face againe. Andreuccio hearing this tale spoken in order, and digested from poinct to poinct with good vtterance, wherof no word stucke betwene her teeth, or was impeached by default of tongue, and remembring how it was true that his father dwelt at Palermo, knowing also by himselfe the maner of yong men, which in their youth be prompte and willinge to loue, and seinge her tender teares, her imbracinges and honeste kisses, thoughte all that shee had spoken to be moste certaine and true. And after shee had done her tale, he answered in this wise: “Madame you may not thincke vnkindnesse, if I doe marueile at this, for that in verye deede, I haue no acquaintaunce of you, no more then if you had neuer beene borne: but whether my father hath spoken of you or of your mother at any time, truly I do not now remember: but so much the more I do reioyce that I haue founde a sister here (as I truste) because I am here alone: and certainely I knowe none so honourable, but you may seeme agreeable vnto him so well as to mee, which am but a poore marchaunt: howbeit, I do beseeche you to tell me how you did know that I was in the City.” To whom she aunsweared: “This morning a poore woman which oftentimes repaireth to my house, gaue mee knowledge thereof, because of long time (as she told me) she did dwell with your father at Palermo and at Perugia: and because I thought it more conuenient and meete, to bidde you home to mine owne house then to seke you in another man’s, I thought good to send for you.” After these words, she began in order to inquire of the state of his parents, calling them by their proper names: whereunto Andreuccio made aunswere, that now he perceiued he had better cause to giue credite vnto her words then before. Their discourse and talke of thinges being long and the weather hot, shee called for Greke wine and comfits, and made Andreuccio to drinke. Who after the banquet, desirous to depart to his lodging (for it was about supper time) shee by no meanes woulde suffer him, but making as though she were angrie, said vnto him: “Oh God! I see now most euidently, that you do make little accompte of mee, being your owne sister whom you neuer sawe before, and in her house: whereunto you ought to resorte when so euer you come to towne: and will you nowe forsake the same to suppe in an Inne? But of trouth you shall not chose but take part of my supper: and althoughe my husbande be not at home (whereof I am righte sorie,) yet you shall knowe that his wife is able to make you some good chere.” To whom Andreuccio, not knowing wel what to say els, made this aunsweare: “I do loue you as I oughte to loue a sister: but if I goe not to mine Inne, I know they will tarie for mee all this night before they go to supper, to my great reproch and shame.” “Praised be God (quoth she then) I haue seruauntes to aduertise your host that you be here with me, to the intente hee shall not tarrie for you. But pleaseth you sir, to do me this great curtesie, that I may sende for your companions hither to beare you company, that afterwardes, if you will needes depart, ye may goe all together.” Andreuccio aunsweared, that he would send for none of his company that night: but for so much as she was so importunate, he himselfe was righte well content to satisfie her request. Then she made as thoughe shee had sent to his Inne to giue word that they should not tarie for him: and after much communication supper was placed vppon the table, serued in with manye deuises and sondrie delicates abundantly, and she with like sleights continued the supper till it was darke night. And when they rose from the table, Andreuccio made hast to departe, but shee would not suffer him, tellinge him that Naples was a towne so straight of orders that none might walke abrode in the night, and specially straungers; and that like as she had sent word how they should not tary for him at supper, euen so she had done for his bedde. All which Andreuccio beleeuing, and taking pleasure that he was with his sister, (deceiued though he were of his false beliefe) was wel contented to tarie. Their talke and communication after supper was of purpose dilated and protracted, and one part of the night being spent, she left Andreuccio in his chamber going to bedde, and a litle boye to waite vpon him to see that he lacked nothinge, and shee with her women went into another chamber. The time of the yeare was very hotte, wherefore Andreuccio being alone, striped himselfe and laid his hose and doublette vnder his beddes head, and desirous to go to the priuie, he asked the boie where it was, who pointing to the doore in a corner of the chamber, said vnto him: “Goe in there.” Andreuccio safely wente in, and chaunced by Fortune to set his foote vpon a borde, which at both endes was loose from the ioyst whereuppon it lay, by reason whereof the bord and he tombled downe into the Iakes: and God so loued him, that in the fall he receiued no hurt although it were of a good height, sauing he was imbroined and arraied with the dunge of the place, wherof the Iakes was full. Which place (to the intent you may the better vnderstand what is said, and what shall follow) euen as it was I wil describe vnto you. There was in a litle straighte entrie (as manye times we see betweene two houses) certaine bordes laied vppon two Ioistes, betwene the one house and the other: vpon which was placed the seate of the priuie, one of which bordes was the same that fill downe with Andreuccio, who now being in the bottome of the Iakes, sorowfull for that sodaine chaunce, cried oute to the boie for helpe. But the boie so soone as hee hearde, that hee was fallen, wente in to tell his maistres, whoe by and by ranne into his chamber to seeke for his clothes: and when she had founde them, and in the same his money, which Andreuccio like a foole, without mistruste, still caried about him: she now possessed the thing for which she had before laied the snare, in fayning her selfe to be of Palermo and the doughter of one of Perugia. And caring no longer for him, she straight way shut fast the priuy doore whereat he went forth when he fell. Andreuccio seing that the boie would not aunswere, began to cry out a loude, but all was in vaine: wherfore suspecting the cause, and beginning somewhat to late to vnderstande the deceipt, he lept ouer a litle wall which closed the place from the sight of the streat. And when he was in the open streate he went to the dore of the house, which he knew well ynough, makinge a noise, rapping hard and long at the doore, but it was in vaine: for which cause he began to complaine and lamente, like vnto one that manifestly saw his misfortune, saying: “Alas, in howe litle time haue I lost fiue hundred crownes and a sister.” And after many other words, he began againe to bounse at the doore, and to crie out. He rapped so long and cryed so loude, as he waked manye of the neighbours there aboutes, who not able to suffer that noyse, rose out of their beds, and amonges others one of the maides of the house (fayning her selfe to be slepie) looked out at the window and said in great rage: “What noise is beneath?” “Oh” saide Andreuccio, “do yee not know me? I am Andreuccio, the brother of madame Floredelice?” “Thou hast droncke to much me thinketh, (quoth the maide) go sleepe and come againe to morow: I know none called Andreuccio, nor yet do vnderstand what thou meanest by those foolish words, get thee hence good man and let vs sleepe I pray thee.” “Why (quoth Andreuccio) doest thou not heare me what I say? thou knowest me well ynough if thou wilt, but if the Scicilian kinred be so sone forgotten, giue me my clothes which I haue left behinde me, and I will go hence with al my hart.” Whereat the maide laughed and saide: “I thincke the man is in a dreame:” and with that she tourned her selfe and shut fast the window. Andreuccio now sure and certaine of his losses, attached with incredible sorow, conuerted his anger into rage, thoughte to recouer by anoiaunce that which he could not get with fayre wordes. Wherefore takinge vp a bigge stone, he began againe with greater blowes to beate at the doore. Which when manye of the neighbours (that before were waked oute of their sleepe and risen) did heare, thinking that it was some troublesome felow that counterfeited those words to anoye the good wife of the house, and all they likewise troubled with the noyse: loking out of the windowes, began to rate him with one voice (like a sorte of Curres of one streate, which doe baule and barke at a straunge Dogge that passeth by) sayinge: “This is to much shame and villanie, to come to the houses of honest women at that time of the night, and to speake such fonde wordes. Wherefore (good man) gette thee hence for God’s sake, and let vs sleepe: if thou haue any thing to do with the good wife, come againe to morrow and disquiet vs no more to night.” With which woordes, as poore Andreuccio was somewhat appeased, one that was within the house, a ruffian (that kept the good wife) whom Andreuccio neuer saw, nor heard before: looked out of the windowe, and with a bigge and horrible voice, demaunded who was beneath? Whereat Andreuccio lifting vp his head, saw one, that so far as he could perceiue, seemed to be a long lubber and a large, with a blacke beard, and a sterne visage, looking as though he were newly rysen from bedde, ful of sleepe, gaping and rubbing his eyes. Whom Andreuccio aunsweared in fearefull wise, saying: “I am the good wiue’s brother of the house.” But the Ruffian interrupting his answeare, speaking more fiercely then at the first, said: “I know not who thou arte, but if I come downe, I will so codgel and bombaste thee, as thou shalte not be able to sturre thy selfe, like an asse and dronken beast as thou art, which all this night wilt not suffer vs to slepe.” And with these wordes turning himselfe aboute, he shutte the windowe. Diuers of the neighbours (which knewe better the conditions of that terrible Ruffian) speakinge faire to Andreuccio, saide vnto him: “For God’s sake good man, depart hence in time, and suffer not thy selfe to be slaine:” “Gette thee hence (quoth an other) and saye not but thou haddest warning.” Whereat Andreuccio being appalled, and with the Ruffians woordes and sight amazed, moued likewise by the counsaile of the neighbours that spake to him as he thoughte, in charitable wyse, toke his waye to retourne to his Inne, the sorowfulles man that euer liued, and in greatest despaire, for losse of his money. Turninge that way, wherein he was guided by a litle girle the day afore, and anoyed with the stenche that he felt about him: desirous to goe to the sea side to washe him, hee declined to muche on the left hande, taking the waye vp to the streat called La Ruga Catellana, and as hee was marching vp the highest parte of the citie, by chaunce he sawe twoo men before him, with a lanthorne light in one of their handes, coming towardes him, for auoyding of whom (because he feared that it was the watche, or some other ill disposed persones) he hidde him selfe in an olde house harde by. But they (as of purpose) went to the very same place: where one of them discharging hym selfe of certain instrumentes of yron, whiche he bare vpon his backe, both of them did vewe and surueie those yrons, debating of diuers thinges touching the same, and as they were talking togethers, one of them sayde: “What meaneth this? I smel the foulest stenche, that euer I felte in all my life.” And when he had sayd so, he lifted vp the Lanthorne and espied miserable Andreuccio couching behinde the wall, and being afrayde, asked who it was, Andreuccio helde his peace. But they approching neare him with their lighte, demaunded what hee made there, so filthely araied. To whom Andreuccio rehersed the whole aduenture as it chaunceth. Who considering the cause of that misfortune, sayd one to an other: this no doubt was done in the house of Scarabone Butta Fuoco: and tourning towardes Andreuccio, one of them sayde vnto him. “Good man, although thou hast lost thy money, yet thou hast great cause to prayse God that it was thy chaunce to falle, and not to enter againe into the house: for if thou haddest not fallen, assure thy selfe that when thou haddest bene a slepe, thy throte had bene cutte, and so with thy money shouldest haue loste thy life. But what auaileth it nowe to wepe and lament: for thou shalt so sone plucke the starres out of the Skye, as euer recouer one peny of thy losse: and without doubt he will kill thee, if hee vnderstande that thou make any wordes thereof.” When they had sayde so, and had giuen him that admonition, they comforted him in this wyse. “Good felowe, we doe lament thy state: And therefore, if thou wilt ioyne thy self with vs, about an enterprise, which we haue in hande: we warraunt thee, thou shalt get a great deale more than thou hast loste.” Andreuccio like one in extreame dispaire, was content. The daie before was buried one Messer Philippo Minutulo, an Archebishop of Naples, in riche pontificalles and ornamentes, with a Rubie vpon his finger, that was worth fiue hundred Ducates of golde, whome they purposed to robbe and dispoile, telling Andreuccio the whole order of their intent: who more couetous, then well aduised, went with them. And going towardes the great church: Andreuccio his perfume began to sente very strong, whereupon one of them sayde. “Is it not possible to deuise a waye, that this shitten beaste may washe him selfe in some place, that he stinke no more thus filthelie?” “Yes, (quod the other) there is a pitte here harde by, ouer whiche there hangeth a pulley, and a great bucket, where we may presently washe him.” When they were come to the pitte, they founde the rope hanging still vpon the pulley, but the bucket was taken away: wherefore they thought beste to tie him to the rope, and to let him downe the pitte to washe him selfe: and that when he was washed, he should wagge the rope, and they woulde hoiste him vp againe. Whiche they