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

About this Item

Title
The decameron containing an hundred pleasant nouels. Wittily discoursed, betweene seauen honourable ladies, and three noble gentlemen.
Author
Boccaccio, Giovanni, 1313-1375.
Publication
London :: Printed by Isaac Iaggard,
1620.
Rights/Permissions

To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.

Cite this Item
"The decameron containing an hundred pleasant nouels. Wittily discoursed, betweene seauen honourable ladies, and three noble gentlemen." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A16248.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 14, 2024.

Pages

Frederigo, of the Alberighi Family, loued a Gentlewoman, and was not re∣quited with like loue againe. By bountifull expences, and ouer liberall inui∣tations, he wasted and consumed all his lands and goods, hauing nothing left him, but a Hawke or Faulcon. His vnkinde Mistresse happeneth to come vi∣site him, and he not hauing any other foode for her dinner; made a daintie dish of his Faulcone for her to feede on. Being conquered by this his exceed∣ing kinde courtesie; she changed her former hatred towardes him, accepting him as her Husband in marriage, and made him a man of wealthy possessi∣ons.

The ninth Nouell.

Wherein is figured to the life, the notable kindnesse and courtesie, of a true and constant Louer: As also the magnanimous minde of a famous Lady.

MAdame Philomena hauing finished her discourse, the Queene percei∣uing, that her turne was the next, in regard of the priuiledge gran∣ted to Dioneus; with a smiling countenance thus she spake. Now or neuer am I to maintaine the order which was instituted when we begann this

Page 204

commendable exercise, whereto I yeeld with all humble obedience. And (worthy Ladies) I am to acquaint you with a Nouell, in some sort an∣swerable to the precedent, not onely to let you know, how powerfully your kindnesses do preuaile, in such as haue a free and gentle soule: but also to aduise you, in being bountifull, where vertue doth ••••stly chalnge it. And euermore, let your fauours shine on worthy deseruers, without the direction of chaunce or Fortune, who neuer bestoweth any gift by discretion; but rashly without consideration, euen to the first she blind∣ly meets withall.

[illustration]

You are to vnderstand then, that Coppo di Borghese Domenichi, who was of our owne City, and perhaps (as yet) his name remaineth in great and reuerend authority, now in these dayes of ours, as well deseruing eternal memory; yet more for his vertues and commendable qualities, then any boast of Nobility from his predecessors. This man, being well entred in∣to yeares, and drawing towards the finishing of his dayes; it was his on∣ly delight and felicity, in conuersation among his neighbours, to talke of matters concerning antiquity, and some other things within compasse of his owne knowledge: which he would deliuer in such singular order, (hauing an absolute memory) and with the best Language, as verie few or none could do the like. Among the multiplicity of his queint discour∣ses, I remember he told vs, that sometime there liued in Florence a yong Gentleman, named Frederigo, Sonne to Signior Philippo Alberigho, who was held and reputed, both for Armes, and all other actions beseeming a Gentleman, hardly to haue his equall through all Tuscany.

This Frederigo (as it is no rare matter in yong Gentlemen) became en∣amored of a Gentlewoman, named Madam Giana, who was esteemed (in

Page [unnumbered]

her time) to be the fairest and most gracious Lady in all Florence. In which respect, and to reach the height of his desire, he made many sumptuous Feasts and Banquets, Ioustes, Tiltes, Tournaments, and all other noble actions of Armes, beside, sending her infinite rich and costly presents, making spare of nothing, but lasing all out in lauish expence. Notwith∣standing, shee being no lesse honest then faire, made no reckoning of whatsoeuer he did for her sake, or the least respect of his owne person. So that Frederigo, spending thus daily more, then his meanes and ability could maintaine, and no supplies any way redounding to him, or his facul∣ties (as very easily they might) diminished in such sort, that he became so poore; as he had nothing left him, but a small poore Farme to liue vpon, the silly reuenewes whereof were so meane, as scarcely allowed him meat and drinke; yet had he a Faire Hawke or Faulcon, hardly any where to be fellowed, so expeditious and sure she was of flight. His low ebbe and po∣uerty, no way quailing his loue to the Lady, but rather setting a keener edge thereon; he saw the City life could no longer containe him, where most he coueted to abide: and therefore, betooke himselfe to his poore Countrey Farme, to let his Faulcon get him his dinner and supper, pati∣ently supporting his penurious estate, without suite or meanes making to one, for helpe or reliefe in any such necessity.

While thus he continued in this extremity, it came to passe, that the Husband to Madam Giana fell sicke, and his debility of body being such, as little, or no hope of life remained: he made his last will and testament, ordaining thereby, that his Sonne (already growne to indifferent stature) should be heire to all his Lands and riches, wherein hee abounded very greatly. Next vnto him, if he chanced to die without a lawfull heire, hee subsistuted his Wife, whom most dearely he affected, and so departed out of this life. Madam Giana being thus left a widow; as commonly it is the custome of our City Dames, during the Summer season, shee went to a House of her owne in the Countrey, which was somewhat neere to poore Frederigoes Farme, and where he liued in such an honest kind of contented pouerty.

Hereupon, the young Gentleman her Sonne, taking great delight in Hounds and Hawkes; grew into familiarity with poore Frederigo, and ha∣uing seene many faire flights of his Faulcon, they pleased him so extraor∣dinarily, that he earnestly desired to enioy her as his owne; yet durst not moue the motion for her, because he saw how choycely Frederigo estee∣med her. Within a short while after, the young Gentleman, became very sicke, whereat his Mother greeued exceedingly, (as hauing no more but he, and therefore loued him the more entirely) neuer parting from him either night or day, comforting him so kindly as shee could, and deman∣ding, if he had a desire to any thing, willing him to reueale it, and assuring him withall, that (if it were within the compasse of possibility) he should haue it. The youth hearing how many times shee had made him these offers, and with such vehement protestations of performance, at last thus spake.

Page 205

Mother (quoth he) if you can doe so much for me, as that I may haue Frederigoes Faulcon, I am perswaded, that my sicknesse soone will cease. The Lady hearing this, sate some short while musing to her selfe, and be∣gan to consider, what shee might best doe to compasse her Sonnes desire: for well shee knew, how long a time Frederigo had most louingly kept it, not suffering it euer to be out of his sight. Moreouer, shee remembred, how earnest in affection he had beene to her, neuer thinking himselfe hap∣py, but onely when he was in her company; wherefore, shee entred into this priuate consultation with her owne thoughts. Shall I send, or goe my selfe in person, to request the Faulcon of him, it being the best that euer flew? It is his onely Iewell of delight, and that taken from him, no longer can he wish to liue in this World. How farre then voide of vn∣derstanding shall I shew my selfe, to rob a Gentleman of his sole felicity, hauing no other ioy or comfort left him? These and the like considerati∣ons, wheeled about her troubled braine, onely in tender care and loue to her Sonne, perswading her selfe assuredly, that the Faulcon were her own, if shee would but request it: yet not knowing whereon it were best to re∣solue, shee returned no answer to her Sonne, but sate still in her silent me∣ditations. At the length, loue to the youth, so preuailed with her, that she concluded on his contentation, and (come of it what could) shee would not send for it; but goe her selfe in person to request it, and then re∣turne home againe with it, whereupon thus she spake. Sonne, comfort thy selfe, and let languishing thoughts no longer offend thee: for here I promise thee, that the first thing I doe to morrow morning, shall be my iourney for the Faulcon, and assure thy selfe, that I will bring it with me. Whereat the youth was so ioyed, that he imagined, his sicknesse began in∣stantly a little to leaue him, and promised him a speedy recouery.

Somewhat early the next morning, the Lady, in care of her sicke Sons health, was vp and ready betimes, and taking another Gentlewoman with her; onely as a mornings recreation, shee walked to Frederigoes poore Countrey Farme, knowing that it would not a little glad him to see her. At the time of her arriuall there, he was (by chance) in a silly Garden, on the backe-side of his House, because (as yet) it was no conuenient time for flight: but when he heard, that Madam Giana was come thither, and desired to haue some conference with him; as one almost confounded with admiration, in all haste he ran to her, and saluted her with most hum∣ble reuerence. Shee in all modest and gracious manner, requited him with the like salutations, thus speaking to him. Signior Frederigo, your owne best wishes befriend you, I am now come hither, to recompence some part of your passed trauailes, which heretofore you pretended to suffer for my sake, when your loue was more to me, then did well become you to offer, or my selfe to accept. And such is the nature of my recom∣pence, that I make my selfe your guest, and meane this day to dine with you, as also this Gentlewoman, making no doubt of our welcome: where∣to, with lowly reuerence, thus he replyed.

Madam, I doe not remember, that euer I sustained any losse or hinde∣rance

Page [unnumbered]

by you, but rather so much good, as if I was woorth any thing, it proceeded from your great deseruings, and by the seruice in which I did stand engaged to you. But my present happinesse can no way bee equal∣led, deriued from your super-abounding gracious fauour, and more then common course of kindnesse, vouchsafing (of your owne liberal nature) to come and visit so poore a seruant. Oh that I had as much to spend a∣gaine, as heeretofore riotously I haue run thorow: what a welcom wold your poore Host bestow vpon you, for gracing this homely house with your diuine presence? With these wordes, hee conducted her into his house, and then into his simple Garden, where hauing no conuenient company for her, he saide. Madam, the pouerty of this place is such, that it affoordeth none fit for your conuersation: this poore woman, wife to an honest Husbandman will attend on you, while I (with some speede) shall make ready dinner.

Poore Frederigo, although his necessity was extreame, and his greefe great, remembring his former inordinate expences, a moity whereof would now haue stood him in some sted; yet hee had a heart as free and forward as euer, not a iotte deiected in his minde, though vtterly ouer∣throwne by Fortune. Alas! how was his good soule afflicted, that he had nothing wherewith to honor his Lady? Vp and downe he runnes, one while this way, then againe another, exclaiming on his disastrous Fate, like a man enraged, or bereft of senses: for he had not one peny of mony neither pawne or pledge, wherewith to procure any. The time hasted on, and he would gladly (though in meane measure) expresse his honou∣rable respect of the Lady. To begge of any, his nature denied it, and to borrow he could not, because his neighbours were all as needie as him∣selfe.

At last, looking round about, and seeing his Faulcon standing on her pearch, which he felt to be very plumpe and fat, being voide of all other helpes in his neede, and thinking her to be a Fowle meete for so Noble a Lady to feede on: without any further demurring or delay, he pluckt off her necke, and caused the poore woman presently to pull her Feathers: which being done, he put her on the spit, and in short time she was dain∣tily roasted. Himselfe couered the table, set bread and salt on, and laid the Napkins, whereof he had but a few left him. Going then with chearfull lookes into the Garden, telling the Lady that dinner was ready, and no∣thing now wanted, but her presence. Shee, and the Gentlewoman went in, and being seated at the table, not knowing what they fed on, the Fal∣con was all their foode; and Frederigo not a little ioyfull, that his credite was so well saued. When they were risen from the table, and had spent some small time in familiar conference: the Lady thought it fitte, to ac∣quaint him with the reason of her comming thither, and therefore (in ve∣ry kinde manner) thus began.

Frederigo, if you do yet remember your former carriage towards me, as also my many modest and chaste denials, which (perhaps) you thoght to sauour of a harsh, cruell, and vn-womanly nature: I make no doubt,

Page 206

but you will wonder at my present presumption, when you vnderstande the occasion, which expressely mooued me to come hither. But if you were possessed of children, or euer had any, wherby you might compre∣hend what loue (in nature) is due vnto them: then I durst assure my self, that you would partly hold mee excused.

Now, in regard that you neuer had any, and I myselfe (for my patt) haue bnt onely one, I stand not exempted from those Lawes, which are in common to other mothers. And being compelled to obey the po∣wer of those Lawes; contrary to mine owne will, and those duties which reason ought to maintaine: I am to request such a gift of you, which I am certaine, that you do make most precious account of, as in manly equity you can do no lesse. For, Fortune hath bin so extreamly aduerse to you, that she hath robbed you of all other pleasures, allowing you no comfort or delight, but onely that poore one, which is your faire Faulcone. Of which Bird, my Sonne is become so straungeiy desirous, as, if I doe not bring it to him at my comming home; I feare so much the extreamity of his sicknesse, as nothing can ensue thereon, but his losse of life. Where∣fore I beseech you, not in regard of the loue you haue born me, for ther∣by you stand no way obliged: but in your owne true gentle nature (the which hath alwayes declared it selfe ready in you, to do more kinde offi∣ces generally, then any other Gentleman that I know) you will be plea∣sed to giue her me, or at the least, let me buy her of you. Which if you do, I shall freely then confesse, that onely by your meanes, my Sonnes life is saued, and wee both shall for euer remaine engaged to you.

When Frederigo had heard the Ladies request, which was now quite out of his power to graunt, because it had bene her seruice at dinner: he stoodlike a man meerely dulled in his sences, the teares trickling amaine downe his checkes: and he not able to vtter one word. Which shee per∣ceiuing, began to coniecture immediately, that these teares and passions proceeded rather from greefe of minde, as being loather to part with his Faulcon, then any other kinde of matter: which made her readie to say, that she would not haue it. Neuerthelesse shee did not speake, but rather tarried to attend his answer. Which, after some small respite and pawse, he returned in this manner.

Madame, since the houre, when first mine affection became soly de∣uoted to your seruice; Fortune hath bene crosse and contrary to mee, in many occasions, as iustly, and in good reason I may complain of her. Yet all seemed light and easie to be indured, in comparison of her present ma∣licious contradiction, to my vtter ouerthrow, and perpetuall mollestati∣on. Considering, that you are come hither to my poore house, which (while I was rich and able) you would not so much as vouchsafe to look on. And now you haue requested a small matter of mee, wherein shee hath also most crookedly thwarted me, because she hath disabled mee, in bestowing so meane a gift, as your selfe will confesse, when it shall be re∣lated to you in very few words.

So soone as I heard, that it was your gracious pleasure to dine with

Page [unnumbered]

me, hauing regard to your excellency, and what (by merit) is iustly due vnto you: I thought it a part of my bounden dutie, to entertaine you with such exquisite viands, as my poore power could any way compas, and farre beyond respect or welcome, to other common and ordinarie persons. Whereupon, remembring my Faulcon, which nowe you aske for; and her goodnesse, excelling all other of her kinde; I supposed, that she would make a dainty dish for your dyet, and hauing drest hir, so well as I could deuise to do: you haue fed hartily on her, and I am proud that I haue so well bestowne her. But perceiuing now, that you would haue her for your sicke Sonne; it is no meane affliction to mee, that I am disa∣bled of yeelding you contentment, which all my life time I haue desired to doe.

To approue his words, the feathers, feete, and beake were brought in, which when she saw, she greatly blamed him for killing so rare a Falcon, to content the appetite of any woman whatsoeuer. Yet she commended his height of spirit, which pouerty had no power to abase. Lastly, her hopes being frstrate for enioying the Faulcon, and fearing besides the health of her Sonne: shethanked Frederigo for his honorable kindnesse, returning home againe sad and melancholly. Shortly after, her sonne ei∣ther greeuing that he could not haue the Faulcone, or by extreamity of his disease, chanced to dye, leauing his mother a most wofull Lady.

After so much time was expired, as conueniently might agree with so∣row and mourning; her Brethren made many motions to her, to ioyne her selfe in marriage againe, because she was extraordinarily rich, and as yet but yong in yeares. Now, although she was well contented neuer to be married any more; yet being continually importuned by them, and remembring the honorable honesty of Frederigo, his last poore, yet mag∣nificent dinner, in killing his Faulcone for her sake, shee saide to her Bre∣thren. This kinde of widdowed estate doth like me so well, as willingly I would neuer leaue it: but seeing you are so earnest for my second marri∣age, let me plainly tell you, that I will neuer accept of any other husbād, but onely Frederigo di Alberino.

Her brethren in scornfull manner reprooued her, telling her, that hee was a begger, and had nothing left to keepe him in the world. I knowe it well (quoth she) and am heartily sory for it. But giue me a man that hath neede of wealth, rather then wealth that hath neede of a man. The Bre∣thren hearing how shee stoode addicted, and knowing Frederigo to bee a worthy Gentleman, though pouerty had disgraced him in the Worlde: consented thereto, so she bestowed her selfe and her riches on him. He on the other side, hauing so noble a Lady to his Wife, and the same whome he had so long and deerely loued: submitted all his fairest Fortunes vnto her, became a better husband (for the world) then before, and they liued and loued together in equall ioy and happinesse.

Do you have questions about this content? Need to report a problem? Please contact us.