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

Ieronimo affecting a yong Maiden, named Siluestra: was constrained (by the earnest importunity of his Mother) to take a iourney to Paris. At his return home from thence againe, hee found his loue Siluestra married. By secret meanes, he got entrance into her house, and dyed vpon the bed lying by her. Afterward, his body being carried to Church, to receiue buriall, she likewise died there instantly vpon his coarse.

The eight Nouell.

Wherein is againe declared, the great indiscretion and folly of them, that think to constraine loue, according to their will, after it is constantly setled be∣fore: With other instructions, concerning the vnspeakeable power of Loue.

[illustration]

MAdam Emillia had no sooner concluded her Nouell, but Madame Neiphila (by the Kings command) began to speake in this manner. It seemeth to mee (Gracious Ladies) that there are some such people to be found, who imagine themselues to know more, then all other else in the world beside, and yet indeede doe know nothing at all: presuming (thorough this arrogant opinion of theirs) to imploy and oppose their senselesse vnderstanding, against infallible grounded reason, yea, and to attempt courses, not only contrary to the counsell and iudgment of men, but also to crosse the nature of diuine ordination. Out of which saucy & ambitious presumption, many mighty harmes haue already had begin∣ning, and more are like to ensue vppon such boldnesse, because it is the ground of all euils.

Now, in regard that among all other naturall things, no one is lesse subiect to take counsell, or can bee wrought to contrariety, then Loue,

whose nature is such, as rather to run vpon his owne rash consumption, then to be ruled by admonitions of the very wisest: my memory hath in∣spired it self, with matter incident to this purpose, effectually to approue, what I haue already said. For I am now to speake of a woman, who would appeare to haue more wit, then either she had indeed, or appertained to her by any title▪ The matter also, wherein she would needs shew hir stu∣dious iudgement and capacity, was of much more consequence then she could deserue to meddle withall. Yet such was the issue of her fond pre∣suming; that (in one instant) she expelled both loue, and the soule of her owne sonne out of his body, where (doubtlesse) it was planted by diuine fauour and appointment.

In our owne City (according to true & ancient testimony) there dwelt sometime a very worthy and wealthy Merchant, named Leonardo Sighie∣ro, who by his wife had one onely Sonne, called Ieronimo and within a short while after his birth, Leonardo being very sicke, and hauing setled al his affaires in good order; departed out of this wretched life to a better. The Tutors and Gouernours of the Childe, thought it fittest to let him liue with his Mother, where he had his whole education, though schoo∣led among many other worthy neighbours children, according as in most Cities they vse to do. Yong Ieronimo growing on in yeares, and frequen∣ting dayly the company of his Schoole-fellowes and others: hee would often sport (as the rest did) with the neighbors, and much prety pastime they found together.

In the harmlesse recreations of youth, grauer iudgements haue often obserued, that some especiall matter receiued then such original, as grea∣ter effect hath followed thereon. And many times, parents and kindred haue bene the occasion (although perhaps beyond their expectation) of very strange and extraordinary accidents, by names of familiarity passing betweene Boyes and Girles, as King and Queene, sweet heart and sweet heart, friend and friend, husband and wife, and diuers other such like kind tearmes, proouing afterwards to be true indeede. It fell out so with our yong Ieronimo; for, among a number of pretty Damosels, daughters to men of especiall respect, and others of farre inferiour qualitie: a Taylors daughter, excelling the rest in fauour and feature (albeit her Father was but poore) Ieronimo most delighted to sport withall; and no other titles passed betweene them, euen in the hearing of their parents and friendes, but wife and husband: such was the beginning of their young affection, presaging (no doubt) effectually to follow.

Nor grew this familiarity (as yet) any way distasted, till by their dayly conuersing together, and enterchange of infinite pretty speeches: Ieroni∣mo felt a strange alteration in his soule, with such enforcing and power∣full afflictions; as he was neuer well but in her company, nor she enioy∣ed any rest if Ieronimo were absent. At the length, this being noted by his Mother, she beganne to rebuke him, yea, many times gaue him both threatnings and blowes, which prouing to no purpose, nor hindering his accesse to her; she complained to his Tutors, and like one that in regard

of her riches, thought to plant an Orange vpon a blacke thorne, spake as followeth.

This Sonne of mine Ieronimo, being as yet but fourteene years of age, is so deeply enamored of a yong Girle, named Siluestra, daughter vnto a poore Tailor, our neere dwelling neighbour: that if we do not send him out of her company, one day (perhaps) he may make her his wife, and yet without any knowledge of ours, which questionlesse would be my death. Otherwise, he may pine and consume himselfe away, if he see vs procure her marriage to some other. Wherefore, I hold it good, that to auoid so great an inconuenience, we shold send Ieronimo some far distance hence, to remaine where some of our Factors are employed: because, when he shall be out of her sight, and their often meetings vtterly disappointed; his affection to her will the sooner ceasse, by frustrating his hope for euer enioying her, and so we shall haue the better meanes, to match him with one of greater quality. The Tutors did like well of her aduice, not doub∣ting but it would take answerable effect: and therefore, calling Ieronimo into a priuate Parlor, one of them began in this manner.

Ieronimo, you are now growne to an indifferent stature, and (almost) a∣ble to take gouernment of your selfe. It cannot then seeme any way in∣conuenient, to acquaint you with your deceased Fathers affaires, and by what good courses he came to such wealth. You are his onely sonne and heire, to whom hee hath bequeathed his rich possessions (your Mothers moity euermore remembred) and trauaile would now seeme fitting for you, as well to experience in Traffick and Merchandize, as also to let you see the worlds occurrences. Your Mother therfore (and we) haue thought it expedient, that you should iourney from hence to Paris, there to con∣tinue for some such fitting time, as may grant you full and free opportu∣nity, to suruey what stocke of wealth is there employed for you, and to make you vnderstand, how your Factors are furtherous to your affayres. Beside, this is the way to make you a man of more solid apprehension, & perfect instruction in ciuill courses of life; rather then by continuing here to see none but Lords, Barons, and Gentlemen, whereof wee haue too great a number. When you are sufficiently qualified there, and haue learned what belongeth to a worthy Marchant, such as was Leonardo Sig∣hiero your famous Father; you may returne home againe at your owne pleasure.

The youth gaue them attentiue hearing, and (in few words) returned them answer: That he would not giue way to any such trauaile, because hee knew how to dispose of himselfe in Florence, as well as in any other place he should be sent too. Which when his Tutors heard, they repro∣ued him with many seuere speeches: and seeing they could win no other answer from him, they made returne thereof to his Mother. Shee stor∣ming extreamly thereat, yet not so much for denying the iourney to Pa∣ris, as in regard of his violent affection to the Maide; gaue him very bit∣ter and harsh language. All which auailing nothing, she began to speake in a more milde and gentle straine, entreating him with flattering and af∣fable

words, to be gouerned in this case by his Tutors good aduise. And so farre (in the end) she preuailed with him, that he yeelded to liue at Pa∣ris for the space of a yeare; but further time he would not graunt, and so all was ended.

Ieronimo being gone to remain at Paris, his loue daily increasing more and more, by reason of his absence from Siluestra, vnder faire and friend∣ly promises, of this moneth and the next moneth sending for him home; there they detained him two whole yeares together. Whereuppon, his loue was growne to such an extremity, that he neither would, or could a∣bide any longer there, but home hee returned, before hee was expected. His loue Siluestra, by the cunning compacting of his Mother and Tutors, he found married to a Tent-makers Sonne; whereat hee vexed and gree∣ued beyond all measure. Neuerthelesse, seeing the case was now no way to bee holpen; hee stroue to beare it with so much patience, as so great a wrong, and his hearts tormenting greefe, would giue him leaue to doe.

Hauing found out the place where she dwelt, hee began (as it is the custome of yong Louers) to vse diuers daily walkes by her door: as thin∣king in his minde, that her remembrance of him was constantly continu∣ed, as his was most intirely fixed on her. But the case was verie strangely altred, because she was now growne no more mindfull of him, then if she had neuer seene him before. Or if she did any way remember him, it ap∣peared to be so little, that manifest signes declared the contrary. Which Ieronimo very quickely perceiued, albeit not without many melanchollie perturbations. Notwithstanding, he laboured by all possible meanes, to recouer her former kindnesse againe: but finding all his paines friuouslie employed; he resolued to dye, and yet to compasse some speech with her before.

By meanes of a neere dwelling neighbour (that was his verie deare & intimate friend) he came acquainted with euery part of the house, & pre∣uailed so far, that one euening; when she and her husband supt at a neigh∣bours house; he compassed accesse into the same bed chamber, where Sil∣uestra vsed most to lodge. Finding the Curtaines ready drawne, he hid himselfe behinde them on the further side of the bed, and so tarried there vntlll Siluestra and her husband were returned home, and laide downe in bedde to take their rest. The husbands sences were soone ouercome with sleepe, by reason of his painefull toyling all the day, and bodies that are exercised with much labour, are the more desirous to haue ease. She stay∣ing vp last, to put out the light, and hearing her husband sleepe so sound∣ly, that his snoring gaue good euidence thereof: layed her selfe down the more respectiuely, as being very loath any way to disease him, but sweet∣ly to let him enioy his rest.

Siluestra lay on the same side of the bed, where Ieronimo had hid him∣selfe behinde the Curtaines; who stepping softly to her in the darke, and laying his hand gently on her brest, saide: Deare Loue, forbeare a little while to sleepe, for heere is thy loyall friend Ieronimo. The yong woman

starting with amazement, would haue cried out, but that hee entreated her to the contrary; protesting, that he came for no ill intent to her, but onely to take his latest leaue of her. Alas Ieronimo (quoth she) those idle dayes are past and gone, when it was no way vnseemly for our youth, to entertaine equality of those desires, which then well agreed with our young blood. Since when, you haue liued in forraine Countries, which appeared to me to alter your former disposition: for, in the space of two whole yeares, either you grew forgetfull of me (as change of ayre, may change affection) or (at the best) made such account of mee, as I neuer heard the least salutation from you. Now you know me to be a married wife, in regard whereof, my thoughts haue embraced that chaste and ho∣nourable resolution, not to minde any man but my husband; and there∣fore, as you are come hither without my loue or license, so in like manner I do desire you to be gone. Let this priuiledge of my Husbandes sound sleeping, be no colour to your longer continuing heere, or encourage you to finde any further fauour at mine hand: for if mine husband shold awake, beside the danger that thereon may follow to you, I cannot but loose the sweet happinesse of peacefull life, which hitherto we haue both mutually embraced.

The yong man, hearing these wordes, and remembring what louing kindnesse he had formerly found, what secret loue Letters hee had sent from Paris, with other priuate intelligences and tokens, which neuer came to her receite and knowledge, so cunningly his Mother and Tutors had carried the matter: immediately he felt his heart strings to break; and lying downe vpon the beds side by her, vttered these his very last words. Siluestra farewell, thou hast kilde the kindest heart that euer loued a wo∣man: and speaking no more, gaue vp the ghost. She hearing these words deliuered with an entire sighe, and deepe-fetcht groane: did not imagine the strange consequence following thereon; yet was mooued to much compassion, in regard of her former affection to him. Silent shee lay an indifferent while, as being vnable to returne him any answer; and looking when he would be gone, according as before she had earnestly entreated him. But when she perceyued him to lye so still, as neither word or mo∣tion came from him, she saide: Kinde Ieronimo, why doest thou not de∣part and get thee gone? So putting forth her hand, it hapned to light vp∣on his face, which she felt to be as cold as yce: whereat maruelling not a little, as also at his continued silence: shee iogged him, and felt his hands in like manner, which were stiffely extended forth, and all his body cold, as not hauing any life remaining in him, which greatly amazing her, and confounding her with sorow beyond all measure, shee was in such per∣plexity, that she could not deuise what to do or say.

In the end, she resolued to try how her husband would take it, that so strange an accident should thus happen in his house, and putting the case as if it did not concerne them, but any other of the neighbours; awaking him first, demaunded of him what was best to bee done, if a man should steale into a neighbours house, vnknowne to him, or any of his family; &

in his bed chamber to be found dead. He presently replyed (as not thin∣king the case concerned himselfe) that, the onely helpe in such an vnex∣pected extremity, was, to take the dead body, and conuey it to his owne house, if he had any; whereby no scandall or reproach would followe to them, in whose house he had so vnfortunately dyed. Heereupon, shee immediately arose, and lighting a candle, shewed him the dead bodie of Ieronimo, with protestation of euery particular, both of her innocencie, either of knowledge of his comming thither, or any other blame that could concerne her. Which hee both instantly knowing and beleeuing, made no more ceremonie, but putting on his Garments, tooke the dead bodie vpon his shoulders, and carried it to the Mothers doore, where he left it, and afterward returned to his owne house againe.

When day light was come, and the dead body found lying in the Porch, it moued very much greefe and amazement, considering, he had bin seene the day before, in perfect health to outward appearance. Nor neede we to vrge any question of his Mothers sorrow vpon this straunge accident, who, causing his body to bee carefully searched, without any blow, bruise, wound, or hurt vppon it, the Physitians could not giue any other opinion, but that some inward conceyte of greefe had caused his death, as it did indeed, and no way otherwise. To the cheefe Church was the dead body carried, to be generally seene of all the people, his mother and friends weeping heauily by it, as many more did the like beside, be∣cause he was beloued of euery one. In which time of vniuersall mour∣ning, the honest man (in whose house he dyed) spake thus to his wife: dis∣guise thy selfe in some decent manner, and go to the Church, where (as I heare) they haue laide the body of Ieronimo. Crowde in amongest the Women, as I will doe the like amongst the men, to heare what opinion passeth of his death, and whether wee shall bee scandalized thereby, or no.

Siluestra, who was now become full of pitty too late, quickely condis∣cended, as desiring to see him dead, whom sometime she dearly affected in life. And being come to the Church, it is a matter to bee admired, if aduisedly we consider on the powerfull working of loue; for the heart of this woman, which the prosperous fortune of Ieronimo could not pierce, now in his wofull death did split in sunder; and the ancient sparks of loue so long concealed in the embers, brake foorth into a furious flame; and being violently surprized with extraordinary compassion, no sooner did she come neere to the dead body, where many stoode weeping round a∣bout it; but strangely shrieking out aloud, she fell downe vpon it: & euen as extremity of greefe finished his life, so did it hers in the same manner. For she moued neither hand nor foot, because her vitall powers had quite forsaken her. The women labouring to comfort her by al the best means they could deuise; did not take any knowledge of her, by reason of her disguised garments: but finding her dead indeede, and knowing her also to be Siluestra, being ouercome with vnspeakable compassion, & danted with no meane admiration, they stood strangely gazing each vpon other.

Wonderfull crowds of people were then in the Church; and this ac∣cident being now noysed among the men, at length it came to her Hus∣bands vnderstanding, whose greefe was so great, as it exceeded all capa∣citie of expression. Afterward, he declared what had hapned in his house the precedent night, according as his wife had truly related to him, with all the speeches, which past between Siluestra and Ieronimo; by which dis∣course, they generally conceiued, the certaine occasion of both their so∣daine deaths, which moued them to great compassion. Then taking the yong womans body, and ordering it as a coarse ought to bee: they layed it on the same Biere by the yong man, and when they had sufficiently sor∣rowed for their disastrous fortune, they gaue them honourable buriall both in one graue. So, this poore couple, whome loue (in life) could not ioyne together, death did vnite in an inseparable coniunction.