Part 23 (1/2)
A little after, the maid, who had gone by her mistress's commandment to learn what should be reported of Ruggieri, returned and said to her, 'Madam, every one missaith of Ruggieri; nor, for aught I could hear, is there friend or kinsman who hath risen up or thinketh to rise up to a.s.sist him, and it is held certain that the prefect of police will have him hanged to-morrow. Moreover, I have a strange thing to tell you, to wit, meseemeth I have discovered how he came into the money-lenders' house, and hear how. You know the carpenter overagainst whose shop was the chest wherein we laid him; he was but now at the hottest words in the world with one to whom it seemeth the chest belonged; for the latter demanded of him the price of his chest, and the carpenter replied that he had not sold it, but that it had that night been stolen from him. Whereto, ”Not so,” quoth the other, ”nay, thou soldest it to the two young men, the money-lenders yonder, as they told me yesternight, when I saw it in their house what time Ruggieri was taken.” ”They lie,” answered the carpenter. ”I never sold it to them; but they stole it from me yesternight. Let us go to them.”
So they went off with one accord to the money-lenders' house, and I came back hither. On this wise, as you may see, I conclude that Ruggieri was transported whereas he was found; but how he came to life again I cannot divine.'
The lady now understood very well how the case stood and telling the maid what she had heard from the physician, besought her help to save Ruggieri, for that she might, an she would, at once save him and preserve her honour. Quoth she, 'Madam, teach me how, and I will gladly do anything.' Whereupon the lady, whose wits were sharpened by the urgency of the case, having promptly bethought herself of that which was to do, particularly acquainted the maid therewith, who first betook herself to the physician and weeping, began to say to him, 'Sir, it behoveth me ask you pardon of a great fault, which I have committed against you.' 'In what?' asked the doctor, and she, never giving over weeping, answered, 'Sir, you know what manner young man is Ruggieri da Jeroli. He took a liking to me awhile agone and partly for fear and partly for love, needs must I become his mistress.
Yesternight, knowing that you were abroad, he cajoled me on such wise that I brought him into your house to lie with me in my chamber, and he being athirst and I having no whither more quickly to resort for water or wine, unwilling as I was that your lady, who was in the saloon, should see me, I remembered me to have seen a flagon of water in your chamber. Accordingly, I ran for it and giving him the water to drink, replaced the flagon whence I had taken it, whereof I find you have made a great outcry in the house. And certes I confess I did ill; but who is there doth not ill bytimes? Indeed, I am exceeding grieved to have done it, not so much for the thing itself as for that which hath ensued of it and by reason whereof Ruggieri is like to lose his life. Wherefore I pray you, as most I may, pardon me and give me leave to go succour Ruggieri inasmuch as I can.' The physician, hearing this, for all he was angry, answered jestingly, 'Thou hast given thyself thine own penance therefor, seeing that, whereas thou thoughtest yesternight to have a l.u.s.ty young fellow who would shake thy skincoats well for thee, thou hadst a sluggard; wherefore go and endeavour for the deliverance of thy lover; but henceforth look thou bring him not into the house again, or I will pay thee for this time and that together.'
The maid, thinking she had fared well for the first venue, betook herself, as quickliest she might, to the prison, where Ruggieri lay and coaxed the gaoler to let her speak with the prisoner, whom after she had instructed what answers he should make to the prefect of police, an he would fain escape, she contrived to gain admission to the magistrate himself. The latter, for that she was young and buxom, would fain, ere he would hearken to her, cast his grapnel aboard the good wench, whereof she, to be the better heard, was no whit chary; then, having quitted herself of the grinding due,[259] 'Sir,' said she, 'you have here Ruggieri da Jeroli taken for a thief; but the truth is not so.' Then, beginning from the beginning, she told him the whole story; how she, being his mistress, had brought him into the physician's house and had given him the drugged water to drink, unknowing what it was, and how she had put him for dead into the chest; after which she told him the talk she had heard between the master carpenter and the owner of the chest, showing him thereby how Ruggieri had come into the money-lenders' house.
[Footnote 259: Or ”having risen from the grinding” (_levatasi dal macinio_).]
The magistrate, seeing it an easy thing to come at the truth of the matter, first questioned the physician if it were true of the water and found that it was as she had said; whereupon he let summon the carpenter and him to whom the chest belonged and the two money-lenders and after much parley, found that the latter had stolen the chest overnight and put it in their house. Ultimately he sent for Ruggieri and questioned him where he had lain that night, whereto he replied that where he had lain he knew not; he remembered indeed having gone to pa.s.s the night with Master Mazzeo's maid, in whose chamber he had drunken water for a sore thirst he had; but what became of him after he knew not, save that, when he awoke, he found himself in the money-lenders' house in a chest. The prefect, hearing these things and taking great pleasure therein, caused the maid and Ruggieri and the carpenter and the money-lenders repeat their story again and again; and in the end, seeing Ruggieri to be innocent, he released him and amerced the money-lenders in half a score ounces for that they had stolen the chest. How welcome this was to Ruggieri, none need ask, and it was beyond measure pleasing to his mistress, who together with her lover and the precious maid, who had proposed to give him the slashes with the knife, many a time after laughed and made merry of the matter, still continuing their loves and their disport from good to better; the which I would well might so betide myself, save always the being put in the chest.”
If the former stories had saddened the hearts of the lovesome ladies, this last one of Dioneo's made them laugh heartily, especially when he spoke of the prefect casting his grapnel aboard the maid, that they were able thus to recover themselves of the melancholy caused by the others. But the king, seeing that the sun began to grow yellow and that the term of his seignory was come, with very courteous speech excused himself to the fair ladies for that which he had done, to wit, that he had caused discourse of so sorrowful a matter as that of lovers' infelicity; which done, he rose to his feet and taking from his head the laurel wreath, whilst the ladies waited to see on whom he should bestow it, set it daintily on Fiammetta's fair head, saying, ”I make over this crown to thee, as to her who will, better than any other, know how with to-morrow's pleasance to console these ladies our companions of to-day's woefulness.”
Fiammetta, whose locks were curled and long and golden and fell over her white and delicate shoulders and whose soft-rounded face was all resplendent with white lilies and vermeil roses commingled, with two eyes in her head as they were those of a peregrine falcon and a dainty little mouth, the lips whereof seemed twin rubies, answered, smiling, ”And I, Filostrato, I take it willingly, and that thou mayst be the better cognizant of that which thou hast done, I presently will and command that each prepare to discourse to-morrow of THAT WHICH HATH HAPPILY BETIDED LOVERS AFTER SUNDRY CRUEL AND MISFORTUNATE ADVENTURES.” Her proposition[260] was pleasing unto all and she, after summoning the seneschal and taking counsel with him of things needful, arising from session, blithely dismissed all the company until supper-time. Accordingly, they all proceeded, according to their various appet.i.tes, to take their several pleasures, some wandering about the garden, whose beauties were not such as might lightly tire, and other some betaking themselves towards the mills which wrought therewithout, whilst the rest fared some hither and some thither, until the hour of supper, which being come, they all foregathered, as of their wont, anigh the fair fountain and there supped with exceeding pleasance and well served. Presently, arising thence, they addressed themselves, as of their wont, to dancing and singing, and Filomena leading off the dance, the queen said, ”Filostrato, I purpose not to depart from the usance of those who have foregone me in the sovranty, but, like as they have done, so I intend that a song be sung at my commandment; and as I am a.s.sured that thy songs are even such as are thy stories, it is our pleasure that, so no more days than this be troubled with thine ill fortunes, thou sing such one thereof as most pleaseth thee.” Filostrato replied that he would well and forthright proceeded to sing on this wise:
[Footnote 260: _i.e._ the theme proposed by her.]
Weeping, I demonstrate How sore with reason doth my heart complain Of love betrayed and plighted faith in vain.
Love, whenas first there was of thee imprest Thereon[261] her image for whose sake I sigh, Sans hope of succour aye, So full of virtue didst thou her pourtray, That every torment light accounted I That through thee to my breast Grown full of drear unrest And dole, might come; but now, alack! I'm fain To own my error, not withouten pain.
Yea, of the cheat first was I made aware, Seeing myself of her forsaken sheer, In whom I hoped alone; For, when I deemed myself most fairly grown Into her favour and her servant dear, Without her thought or care Of my to-come despair, I found she had another's merit ta'en To heart and put me from her with disdain.
Whenas I knew me banished from my stead, Straight in my heart a dolorous plaint there grew, That yet therein hath power, And oft I curse the day and eke the hour When first her lovesome visage met my view, Graced with high goodlihead; And more enamoured Than eye, my soul keeps up its dying strain, Faith, ardour, hope, blaspheming still amain.
How void my misery is of all relief Thou mayst e'en feel, so sore I call thee, sire, With voice all full of woe; Ay, and I tell thee that it irks me so That death for lesser torment I desire.
Come, death, then; shear the sheaf Of this my life of grief And with thy stroke my madness eke a.s.sain; Go where I may, less dire will be my bane.
No other way than death is left my spright, Ay, and none other solace for my dole; Then give it[262] me straightway, Love; put an end withal to my dismay: Ah, do it; since fate's spite Hath robbed me of delight; Gladden thou her, lord, with my death, love-slain, As thou hast cheered her with another swain.
My song, though none to learn thee lend an ear, I reck the less thereof, indeed, that none Could sing thee even as I; One only charge I give thee, ere I die, That thou find Love and unto him alone Show fully how undear This bitter life and drear Is to me, craving of his might he deign Some better harbourage I may attain.
Weeping I demonstrate How sore with reason doth my heart complain Of love betrayed and plighted faith in vain.
[Footnote 261: _i.e._ on my heart.]
[Footnote 262: _i.e._ death.]
The words of this song clearly enough discovered the state of Filostrato's mind and the cause thereof, the which belike the countenance of a certain lady who was in the dance had yet plainlier declared, had not the shades of the now fallen night hidden the blushes that rose to her face. But, when he had made an end of his song, many others were sung, till such time as the hour of sleep arrived, whereupon, at the queen's commandment, each of the ladies withdrew to her chamber.
HERE ENDETH THE FOURTH DAY OF THE DECAMERON
_Day the Fifth_
HERE BEGINNETH THE FIFTH DAY OF THE DECAMERON WHEREIN UNDER THE GOVERNANCE OF FIAMMETTA IS DISCOURSED OF THAT WHICH HATH HAPPILY BETIDED LOVERS AFTER SUNDRY CRUEL AND MISFORTUNATE ADVENTURES