The decameron containing an hundred pleasant nouels. Wittily discoursed, betweene seauen honourable ladies, and three noble gentlemen.

Two Citizens of Siena, the one ••amed Tingoccio Mini, & the other Meucio di Tura, affected hoth one woman, called Monna Mita, to whom the one of them was a Gossip. The Gossip dyed, and appeared afterward to his com∣panion, according as he had formerly promised him to doe, and tolde him what strange wonders he had seene in the other world.

The Tenth Nouell.

Wherein such men are couertly reprehended, who make no care or conscience at all of those things that should preserue them from sinne.

[illustration]

NOw there remained none but the King himselfe, last of all to re∣count his Nouell; who, after hee heard the Ladies complaints indifferently pacified, for the rash felling downe of such a pre∣cious Peare-tree; thus he began-Faire Ladies, it is a case more then ma∣nifest, that euery King, who will be accounted iust and vpright: should first of all, and rather then any other, obserue those Lawes which he himselfe hath made; otherwise he ought to be reputed as a seruant, worthy of punishment, and no King. Into which fault and reprehension, I your King, shall well neere be constrained to fall; for yesterday I enacted a Law, vpon the forme of our discoursing, with full intent, that this day I would not vse any part of my pri∣uiledge; but being subiect (as you all are) to the same Law, I should speake of that argument, which already you haue done.

Wherein, you haue not onely performed more then I could wish, vpon a sub∣iect so sutable to my minde: but in euery Nouell, such variety of excellent

matter, such singular illustrations, and delicate eloquence hath flowne from you all; as I am vtterly vnable to inuent any thing (notwithstanding the most curious search of my braine) apt or fit for the purpose, to paragon the meanest of them already related. And therefore seeing I must needs sinne in the Law established by my selfe; I tender my submission, as worthy of punishment, or what amends else you please to enioyne mee. Now, as returned to my wonted priuiledge, I say, that the Nouell recounted by Madame Eliza, of the Fryar Godfather and his Gossip Agnesia, as also the sottishnesse of the Senese her Husband, hath wrought in me (worthy Ladies) to such effect; as, forbearing to speake any more of these wily prancks, which witty wiues exercise on their simple Husbands; I am to tell you a pretty short Tale; which, though there is matter enough in it, not worthy the crediting, yet partly it will bee a pleasing to heare.

Sometime there liued in Sienna two popular men; the one being na∣med Tingoccio, Mini, and the other Meucio de Tora; Men simple, and of no vnderstanding, both of them dwelling in Porta Salaia. These two men liued in such familiar conuersation together, and expressed such cordiall affection each to other, as they seldome walked asunder; but (as honest men vse to doe) frequented Churches and Sermons, oftentimes hea∣ring, both what miseries and beatitudes were in the world to come, ac∣cording to the merits of their soules that were departed out of this life, and found their equall repaiment in the other. The manifold repetition of these matters, made them very earnestly desirous to know, by what meanes they might haue tydings from thence, for their further confir∣mation. And finding all their endeauours vtterly frustrated, they made a solemne vow and promise (each to other vnder oath) that hee which first dyed of them two, should returne backe againe (so soone as possibly he could) to the other remaining aliue, and tell him such tydings as hee desired to heare.

After the promise was thus faithfully made, and they still keeping company, as they were wont to doe: It fortuned, that Tingoccio became Gossip to one, named Ambrosio Anselmino, dwelling in Camporeggio, who by his wise, called Monna Mita, had a sweet and louely Sonne. Tin∣goccio often resorting thither, and consorted with his companion Meucio; the she-Gossip, being a woman worthy the louing, faire and comely of her person: Tingoccio, notwithstanding the Gossipship betweene them, had more then a moneths minde to his God childs Mother. Meucio al∣so fell sicke of the same disease, because shee seemed pleasing in his eye, and Tingoccio gaue her no meane commendations; yet, carefully they concealed their loue to themselues, but not for one & the same occasion. Because Tingoccio kept it closely from Meucio, lest he should hold it dis∣gracefull in him, to beare amourous affection to his Gossip, and thought it vnfitting to bee knowne. But Meucio had no such meaning, for hee knew well enough that Tingoccio loued her, and therefore conceiued in his minde, that if he discouered any such matter to him: He will (quoth he) be iealous of me, and being her Gossip (which admitteth his confe∣rence

with her when himselfe pleaseth; he may easily make her to di∣staste me, and therefore I must rest contented as I am.

Their loue continuing on still in this kinde, Tingoccio prooued so for∣tunate in the businesse, that hauing better meanes then his companion, and more preuayling courses, when, where, and how to Court his Mi∣stresse, which seemed to forward him effectually. All which Meucio plainely perceiued, 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 loues happinesse, and the other hoping for his felicity to come; a linge∣ring sickenesse seazed on Tingoccio, which brought him to so low a con∣dition, 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. Meu∣cio 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 vtterly lost. Those things (quoth Tingoccio) are lost, which cannot be recouered 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 resolued, 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 diuers sinnes by mee committed I am to suffer very great and grieuous paines. Then Meucio demaunded particularly, the punishments inflicted there, for the seuerall sinnes com∣mitted heere: Wherein Tingoccio fully resolued him. And vpon fur∣ther question, what hee would haue to be done for him here, made an∣swere, 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 vpon 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 p••nishment 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 im∣mediately 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 grieuous 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 af∣flictions,

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 perceiuing in what an ••x∣treame agony I was; presently said vnto me. My friend, what hast thou done more, then any of vs here condemned with thee, that thou ••remblest and quakest, being in so hot a fire? Oh my friend (quoth I) I am in feare of a greater iudgement then this, for a grieuous offence by mee heretofore committed while I liued. 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 whatsoeuer, 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 hea∣ring 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 hauing heard this confession of his friend, and verily beleeuing 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, hauing bin a Gossip to many wiues, 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 con∣uerted her to his lustfull knauery, in the comparison of kinred by him moued, 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 ouerthrow 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 No∣uell, and none remaining more to be thus imployed: taking the Crowne from off his owne head, he placed it on Madame Laurettaes, saying, Ma∣dame, 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 vs 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 gaue command, that the Tables should be prepared in the pleasant vally, but at a more conuenient 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 wiues to their Husbands. And were it not to auoyde taxation, of a spleenitiue desire to be reuenged, like the dog being bitten, biteth againe: I could command our to morrows conference, to touch mens treacheries towards their wiues. But because I am free from any such fiery humor, let it be your generall consideration, to speake of such queint be∣guylings, as haue 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 vs no lesse delight, then those related (this day) haue done. When she had thus spoken, she rose; granting them all liberty, to goe recreate them∣selues vntill 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 vnder the goodly spreading trees. Dioneus and Madame Fiammetta, they sate singing together, the loue-warre betweene Arcit and Palemon. And thus with diuersity of disports, in choice delight and much contentment, all were imploy∣ed, till Supper drew neere. When the houre was come, and the Tables couered 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 euening, according to the Queenes ap∣pointment: in a soft and gentle pace, they walked homeward: deuising on a thousand occasions, as well those which the dayes discourses had yeelded, as others of their owne inuenting beside. It was almost darke night, before they arriued 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 with∣all. 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 comman∣ded Madame Philomena to sing; whereupon the Instruments being tu∣ned 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; Vnto 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 vnrest, 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 liue 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 gaue command in spight, That I should find no ease by day or night, But still liue in controule. I see, I heare, and feele a kinde of blisse, Yet find no forme at all: Other in their desire, feele blessednesse, But I haue none, nor thinke I euer shall. Wearisome is my life to me, &c.

Tell me, if I may hope in following dayes, To haue 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 poasted off, and may not proue, To haue the smallest grace: Or but to know, that this proceeds from loue, Why should I liue despisde in euery place? Wearisome is my life to me, &c.

Me thinkes milde fauour whispers in mine eare, And bids me not despaire; There will a time appeare To quell and quite confound consuming care, And ioy surmount proud feare. In hope that gracious time will come at length, To cheare my long dismay: My spirits reassume yonr former strength, And neuer dread to see that ioyfull day. Wearisome is my life to me, Because I cannot once againe returne; Vnto the place which made me first to mourne.

This Song gaue occasion to the whole Company, to imagine, that some new and pleasing apprehension of Loue, 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. Where∣fore, 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 Saui∣our, which (if you haue not forgotten it, as easily you cannot) we deuout∣ly celebrated, Madame Neiphila being then Queene, ceasing from all our pleasant discoursing, as we did the like on the Saturday following, sanctifi∣ing the sacred Sabboth, in due regard of it selfe. Wherefore, being desirous to imitate precedent good example, which in worthy manner shee began to vs all: I hold it very decent and necessary, that we should asttaine to mor∣row, and the day ensuing, from recounting any of our pleasant Nouels, redu∣cing to our memories, what was done (as on those dayes) for the salua∣tion of our soules. This holy and Religious motion made by the Queene, was commendably allowed by all the assembly, and therefore, hum∣bly taking taking their leaue of her, and an indifferent part of the night being already spent; seuerally they betooke themselues to their Cham∣bers.