THE TENTH DAY, THE TENTH NOVELL
SET DOWNE AS AN EXAMPLE OR WARNING TO ALL WEALTHIE MEN, HOW TO
HAVE CARE OF
MARRYING THEMSELVES. AND LIKEWISE TO POORE AND MEANE WOMEN, TO BE
PATIENT IN
THEIR FORTUNES, AND OBEDIENT TO THEIR HUSBANDS
The
Marquesse of
Saluzzo, named Gualtiero, being constrained by the importunate solliciting of
his Lords, and other inferiour people, to joyne himselfe in marriage; tooke a
woman according to his owne liking, called Grizelda, she being the daughter of a
poore Countriman, named Janiculo, by whom he had two children, which he
pretended to be secretly murdered. Afterward, they being grown to yeres of more
stature, and making shew of taking in marriage another wife, more worthy of his
high degree and Calling: made a seeming publique liking of his owne daughter,
expulsing his wife Grizelda poorely from him. But finding her incomparable
patience; more dearely (then before) hee received her into favour againe,
brought her home to his owne Pallace, where (with her children) hee caused her
and them to be respectively honoured, in despight of all her adverse enemies.
Questionlesse, the Kings Novell not so much exceed the rest in length, but it
proved as sing to the whole assembly, past with their generall approbation, till
Dioneus (in a merry jesting humour) said. The plaine honest simple man, that
stood holding the Candle, to see the setting on of his Mules tayle; deserved two
penny-worth of more praise, then all our applauding of Signior Thorello: And
knowing himselfe to bee left for the last speaker, thus he began. Milde and
modest Ladies, for ought I can perceive to the contrary, this day was dedicated
to none but Kings, Soldanes, and great Potentates, not in favour of any
inferiour or meaner persons. And therefore, because I would be loth to dis-ranke
my selfe from the rest, I purpose to speake of a Lord Marquesse, not any matter
of great magnificence, but rather in a more humble nature, and sorted to an
honest end: which yet I will not advise any to immitate, because (perhaps) they
cannot so well digest it, as they did whom my Novell concerneth; thus then I
begin. It it a great while since, when among those that were Lord Marquesses of
Saluzzo, the very greatest and worthiest man of them al, was a young Noble Lord,
named Gualtiero, who having neyther wife nor childe, spent his time in nothing
else but hawking and hunting: nor had he any minde of marriage, or to enjoy the
benefit of children, wherein many did repute him the wiser. But this being
distastfull to his subjects, they very often earnestly solicited him, to match
himselfe with a wife, to the end, that hee might not decease without an heire,
nor they be left destitute of a succeeding Lord; offering themselves to provide
him of such a one, so well descended by Father and Mother, as not only should
confirm their hope, but also yeeld him high contentment; whereto the Lord
Marquess thus answered. Worthie friends, you would constraine me to the thing,
wherewith I never had any intent to meddle, considering, how difficult a case it
is to meet with such a woman, who can agree with a man in all his conditions,
and how great the number is of them, who daily happen on the contrarie: but most
(and worst of all the rest) how wretched and miserable prooves the life of man,
who is bound to live with a wife not fit for him. And in saying, you can learn
to understand the custome and qualities of children, by behaviour of the fathers
and mothers, and so to provide mee of a wife, it is a meere argument of folly:
for neither shall I comprehend, or you either, the secret inclinations of
parents; I meane of the Father, and much lesse the complexion of the mother. But
admitte it were within compasse of power to know them; yet it is a frequent
sight, and observed every day; that daughters doe resemble neither father nor
mother, but that they are naturally governed by their owne instinct. But because
you are so desirous to have me fettered in the chains of wedlocke; I am
contented to grant what you request. And because I would have no complaint made
of any but my selfe, if matters should not happen answerable to expectation; I
will make mine owne eyes my electors, and not see by any others sight. Giving
you this assurance before, that if she whom I shall make choice of, be not of
you honoured and respected as your Lady and Mistresse: it will ensue to your
detriment, how much you have displeased me, to take a wife at your request, and
against mine owne will. The Noble men answered, that they were well satisfied,
provided that he tooke a wife. Some indifferent space of time before, the
beauty, manners, and well-seeming vertues, of a poore Countrie-mans daughter,
dwelling in no farre distant village, had appeared very pleasing to the Lord
Marquesse, and gave him full perswasion, that with her hee should lead a
comfortable life. And therefore without any further search or inquisition, he
absolutely resolved to marry her, and having conferred with her Father, agreed,
that his daughter should be his wife. Whereupon, the Marquesse made a generall
convocation of all his Lords, Barons, and other of his especiall friends, from
all parts of his Dominion; and when they were assembled together, hee then spake
unto them in manner as followeth. Honourable friends, it appeared pleasing to
you all, and yet (I thinke) you are of the same minde, that I should dispose my
selfe to take a wife: and I thereto condescended, more to yeeld you contentment,
then for any particular desire in my selfe. Let mee now remember you of your
solemne made promise, with full consent to honor and obey her (whosoever) as
your Soveraigne Lady and Mistresse, that I shall elect to make my wife: and now
the time is come, for my exacting the performance of that promise, and which I
look you must constantly keepe. I have made choyce of a yong virgine, answerable
to mine owne heart and liking, dwelling not farre off hence, whom I intend to
make my wife, and (within few dales) to have her brought home to my Pallace. Let
your care and diligence then extend so farre, as to see that the feast may be
sumptuous, and her entertainment to bee most honourable: to the end that I may
receive as much contentment in your promise performed, as you shall perceive I
doe in my choice. The Lords and all the rest, were wondrously joyfull to heare
him so well inclined, expressing no lesse by their shouts and jocund suffrages:
protesting cordially, that she should be welcommed with pompe and majestie, and
honoured of them all, as their Liege Ladie and Soveraigne. Afterward, they made
preparation for a princely and magnificent feast, as the Marquesse did the like,
for a marriage of extraordinary state and qualitie, inviting all his kinred,
friends, and acquaintance in all parts and Provinces, about him. Hee made also
readie most riche and costly garments, shaped by the body of a comely young
Gentlewoman, who he knew to be equall in proportion and stature, to her of whom
hee hade made his election. When the appointed nuptiall day was come, the Lord
Marques, about nine of the clocke in the morning, mounted on horsebacke, as all
the rest did, who came to attend him honourably, and having all things in due
readinesse with them, he said: Lords, it is time for us to goe fetch the Bride.
So on hee rode with his traine, to the same poore Village whereat shee dwelt,
and when hee was come to her Fathers house, hee saw the maiden returning very
hastily from a Well, where shee had beene to fetch a paile of water, which shee
set downe, and stood (accompanied with other maidens) to see the passage by of
the Lord Marquesse and his traine. Gualtiero called her by her name, which was
Grizelda, and asked her, where her Father was: who bashfully answered him, and
with an humble courtesie, saying. My gracious Lord, hee is in the house. Then
the Marquesse dismounted from his horse, commanding every one to attend him,
then all alone hee entred into the poore Cottage, where he found the maides
father, being named Janiculo, and said unto him. God speed good Father, I am
come to espouse thy daughter Grizelda: but first I have a few demands to make,
which I will utter to her in thy presence. Then hee turned to the maide, and
saide. Faire Grizelda, if I make you my wife, will you doe your best endeavour
to please me, in all things which I shall doe or say? will you also be gentle,
humble, and patient? with divers other the like questions: whereto she still
answered, that she would, so neere as heaven (with grace) should enable her.
Presently he tooke her by the hand, so led her forth of the poore homely house,
and in the presence of all his company, with his owne hands, he took off her
meane wearing garments, smocke and all, and cloathed her with those Robes of
State which he had purposely brought thither for her, and plaiting her haire
over her shoulders, hee placed a Crowne of gold on her head, whereat every one
standing as amazed, and wondring not a little, hee said: Grizelda, wilt thou
have me to thy husband? Modestly blushing, and kneeling on the ground, she
answered. Yes my gracious Lord, if you will accept so poore a maiden to be your
wife. Yes Grizelda, quoth hee, with this holy kisse, I confirme thee for my
wife; and so espoused her before them all. Then mounting her on a milke-white
Palfray, brought thither for her, shee was thus honourably conducted to her
Pallace. Now concerning the marriage feast and triumphes, they were performed
with no lesse pompe, then if she had beene daughter to the King of France. And
the young Bride apparantly declared, that (with her garments) her minde and
behavior were quite changed. For indeed shee was (as it were shame to speake
otherwise) a rare creature, both of person and perfections, and not onely was
shee absolute for beautie, but so sweetely amiand gracious, and goodlie; as if
she were not the daughter of poore Janicula, and a Countrie Shepheardesse, but
rather of some Noble Lord, whereat every one wondred that had knowne her. Beside
all this, shee was so obedient to her husband, so fervent in all dutifull
offices, and patient, without the very least provoking: as hee held himselfe
much more then contented, and the onely happy man of the world. In like manner,
towards the subjects of her Lord and Husband, she shewed her selfe alwayes so
benigne and gracious; as there was not any one, but the more they lookt on her,
the better they loved her, honouring her voluntarily, and praying to the
heavens, for her health, dignity and well-fares long continuance. Speaking now
(quite contrary to their former opinion of the Marquesse) honourably and thily,
that he had shewne him selfe a singular wise man, in the election of his Wife,
which few else (but he) in the world would have done: because their judgement
might fall farre short, of discerning those great and precious vertues, veiled
under a homely habite, and obscured in a poore Countrey cottage. To be briefe,
in very short time, not onely the Marquisate it selfe, but all neighbouring
Provinces round about, had no other common talke, but of her rare course of
life, devotion, charity, and all good actions else; quite quailing all sinister
Instructions of her Husband, before he received her in marriage. About foure or
five yeeres after the birth of her daughter, shee conceived with child againe,
and (at the limitted houre of deliverance) had a goodly Sonne, to the no little
liking of the Marquesse. Afterward, a strange humour entred into his braine,
namely, that by a long continued experience, and courses of intollerable
quality; he would needes make proofe of his faire Wives patience. First he began
to provoke her by injurious speeches, shewing fierce and frowning lookes to her,
intimating; that his people grew displeased with him, in regard of his Wives
base birth and education, and so much the rather, because she was likely to
bring children, who (by her blood) were no better then beggers, and murmured at
the daughter already borne. Which words when Grizelda heard, without any
alteration of countenance, for the least distemperature in any appearing action
she said. My honourable and gracious Lord, dispose of me, as you thinke best,
for your owne dignity and contentment, for I shall therewith be well pleased: as
she that knowes her selfe, farre inferiour to the meanest of your people, much
lesse worthy of the honour, whereto you liked to advance me. This answere was
very welcome to the Marquesse, as apparantly perceiving hereby, that the dignity
whereto hee had exalted her, or any particular favours beside, could not infect
her with any pride, coynesse, or disdaine. Not long after, having told her in
plaine and open speeches, that his subjects could not endure her so late borne
daughter: he called a trusty servant of his, and having instructed him what he
should doe, sent him to Grizelda, and he being alone with her, looking very
sadde, and much perplexed in mind, he saide. Madame, except I intend to loose
mine owne life, I must accomplish what my Lord hath strictly enjoyned me, which
is, to take this your yong daughter, and then I must: So breaking off abruptly,
the Lady hearing his words, and noting his frowning lookes, remembring also what
the Marquesse himselfe had formerly said; she presently imagined, that he had
commanded his servant to kill the childe. Suddenly therefore, she tooke it out
of the Cradle, and having sweetly kissed, and bestowne her blessing on it
(albeit her heart throbbed, with the inward affection of a Mother) without any
alteration of countenance, she tenderly laid it in the servants armes, and said.
Here friend, take it, and doe with it as thy Lord and mine hath commanded thee:
but leave it in no rude place, where birds or savage beasts may devour it,
except it be his will to have it so. The servant departing from her with the
child, and reporting the Marquesse what his Lady had said; he wondered at her
incomparable constancy. Then he sent it by the same servant to Bologna, to an
honourable Lady his kinsewoman, requesting her (without revealing whose child it
was) to see it both nobly and carefully educated. At time convenient afterward,
being with child againe, and delivered of a Princely Sonne (then which nothing
could be more joyfull to the Marquesse) yet all this was not sufficient for him;
but with farre ruder language then before, and lookes expressing harsh
intentions, he said unto her. Grizelda, though thou pleasest me wonderfully, by
the birth of this Princely Boy, yet my subjects are not therewith contented, but
blunder abroad maliciously; that the grandchild of Janiculo, a poore countrey
pezant, when I am dead and gone, must be their Soveraigne Lord and Master. Which
makes me stand in feare of their expulsion, and to prevent that, I must be rid
of this childe, as well as the other, and then send thee away from hence, that I
may take another wife, more pleasing to them. Grizelda, with a patient sufferent
soule, hearing what he had said, returned no other answere but this. Most
Gracious and Honourable Lord, satisfie and please your owne Royall minde, and
never use any respect of me: for nothing is precious or pleasing to mee, but
what may agree with your good liking. Within a while after, the Noble Marquesse
in the like manner as he did before for the Daughter, so he sent the same
servant for the Sonne, and seeming as if he had sent it to have been slaine,
conveighed it to be nursed at Bologna, in company of his sweete Sister. Whereat
the Lady shewed no other discontentment in any kinde, then formerly she had done
for her Daughter, to the no meane marvell of the Marquesse, who protested in his
soule, that the like woman was not in all the world beside. And were it not for
his heedfull observation, how loving and carefull she was of her children,
prizing them as dearely as her owne life: rash opinion might have perswaded him,
that she had no more in her, then a carnall affection, not caring how many she
had, so shee might thus easily be rid of them; but he knew her to be a truely
vertuous mother, and wisely liable to endure his severest impositions. His
Subjects beleeving, that he had caused the children to bee slaine, blamed him
greatly, thought him to be a most cruell man, and did highly compassionate the
Ladies case: who when shee came in company of other Gentlewomen, which mourned
for their deceassed children, would answere nothing else: but that they could
not be more pleasing to her, then they were to the father that begot them.
Within certaine yeares after the birth of these children, the Marquesse purposed
with himselfe, to make his last and finall proofe of faire Grizeldaes patience,
and said to some neere about him: that he could no longer endure, to keepe
Grizelda as his wife, confessing, he had done foolishly, and according to a
young giddie braine, when he was so rash in the marriage of her. Wherfore he
would send to the Pope, and purchase a dispensation from him, to repudiate
Grizelda, and take another Wife. Wherein although they greatly reproved him; yet
he told them plainely, that it must needes be so. The Lady hearing these newes,
and thinking she must returne againe to her poore father's house, and (perhaps)
to her old occupation of keeping sheepe, as in her yonger dayes she had done,
understanding withall, that another woman must enjoy him, whom shee dearely
loved and honoured; you may well thinke (worthy Ladies) that her patience was
now put to the maine proofe indeede. Neverthelesse, as with an invincible true
vertuous courage, she had outstood all the other injuries of Fortune; so did she
constantly settle her soule, to beare this with an undaunted countenance and
behaviour. At such time as was prefixed for the purpose, counterfeit Letters
came to the Marquesse (as sent from Rome) which he caused to be publikely read
in the hearing of his subjects: that the Pope had dispensed with him, to leave
Grizelda, and marry with another Wife, wherefore sending for her immediatly, in
presence of them all, thus he spake to her. Woman, by concession sent me from
the Pope, he hath dispensed with me, to make choyce of another Wife, and to free
my selfe from thee. And because my predecessors have beene Noblemen, and great
Lords in this Country, thou being the daughter of a poore Countrey Clowne, and
their blood and mine notoriously imbased, by my marriage with thee: I intend to
have thee no longer my Wife, but will returne thee home to thy Fathers house,
with all the rich Dowry thou broughtest me; and then I wil take another Wife,
with whom I am already contracted, better beseeming my birth, and farre more
contenting and pleasing to my people. The Lady hearing these words (not without
much paine and difficulty) restrayned her teares, quite contrary to the naturall
inclination of women, and thus answered. Great Marquesse, I never was so empty
of discretion, but did alwayes acknowledge, that my base and humble condition,
could not in any manner sute with your high blood and Nobility, and my being
with you, I ever acknowledged, to proceed from heaven and you, not any merit of
mine, but onely as a favour lent me, which you being now pleased to recall backe
againe, I ought to be pleased (and so am) that it bee restored. Here is the
Ring, wherewith you Espoused me; here (in all humility) I deliver it to you. You
command me, to carry home the marriage Dowry which I brought with me: there is
no need of a Treasurer to repay it me, neither any new purse to carry it in,
much lesse any Sumpter to be laden with it. For (Noble Lord) it was never out of
my memory, that you tooke me starke naked, and if it shall seeme sightly to you,
that this body which hath borne two children, and begotten by you, must againe
be seene naked; willingly must I depart hence naked. But I humbly beg of your
Excellency, in recompence of my Virginity, which I brought you blamelesse, so
much as in thought: that I may have but one of my wedding Smocks, onely to
conceale the shame of nakednesse, and then I depart rich enough. The Marquesse
whose heart wept bloody teares, as his eyes would likewise gladly have yeelded
their naturall tribute; covered all with a dissembled angry countenance, and
starting up, said. Goe, give her a Smocke onely, and so send her gadding. All
there present about him, entreated him to let her have a petticote, because it
might not be said, that she who had been his Wife thirteene yeares and more, was
sent away so poorely in her Smocke: but all their perswasions prevailed not with
him. Naked in her Smocke, without hose or shoes, bareheaded, and not so much as
a Cloth about her necke, to the great griefe and mourning of all that saw her,
she went home to her old fathers house. And he (good man) never beleeving, that
the Marquesse would long keepe his daughter as his Wife, but rather expected
dally, what now had happened: safely laid up the garments, whereof the Marquesse
despoyled her, the same morning when he espoused her. Wherefore he delivered
them to her, and she fell to her fathers houshold businesse, according as
formerly she had done; sustayning with a great and unconquerable spirit, all the
cruell assaults of her enemy Fortune. About such time after, as suted with his
owne disposition, the Marquesse made publiquely knowne to his subjects, that he
meant to joyne in marriage again, with the daughter to one of the Counts of
Panago, and causing preparation to be made for a sumptuous wedding; he sent for
Grizelda, and she being come, thus he spake to her. The Wife that I have made
the new election of, is to arrive here within very few dayes, and at her first
comming, I would have her to be most honourably entertained. Thou knowest I have
no women in my house, that can decke up the Chambers, and set all requisite
things in due order, befitting for so solemne a Feast: and therefore I sent for
thee, who knowing (better then any other) all the partes, provision and goods in
the house, set every thing in such order, as thou shalt thinke necessary. Invite
such Ladies and Gentlewomen as thou wilt, and give them welcome, even as if thou
wert the Lady of the house: and when the marriage is ended, returne then home to
thy father againe. Although these words pierced like wonding daggers, the heart
of poore (but Noble patient) Grizelda, as being unable to forget the unequal'd
love she bare to the Marquesse, though the dignitie of her former fortune, more
easily slipt out of her remembrance; yet neverthelesse, thus she answered. My
Gracious Lord, I am glad I can doe you any service; wherein you shall find mee
both willing and ready. In the same poore garments, as she came from her fathers
house, (although shee was turned out in her Smocke) she began to sweep and make
cleane the Chambers, rubbe the stooles and benches in the Hall, and ordered
every in the Kitchin, as if she were the worst maide in all the house, never
ceasing or giving over, till all things were in due and decent order as best
beseemed in such a case. After all which was done, the Marquesse, having invited
all the Ladies of the Countrey, to be present at so great a Feast: when the
marriage day came, Grizelda, in her gowne of Countrey gray, gave them welcome,
in honourable manner, and graced them all with very cheerefull countenance.
Gualtiero the Marquesse, who had caused his two children to be nobly nourished
at Bologna, with a neere kinswoman of his, who had married with one of the
Counts of Panago, his daughter being now aged twelve yeares old, and somewhat
more, as also the Son about sixe or seven. He sent a Gentleman expresly to his
kindred, to have them come and visite him at Saluzza, bringing his daughter and
Sonne with them, attended in very honourable manner, and publishing every where
as they came along, that the young Virgin (knowne to none but himselfe and them)
should be the Wife to the Marquesse, and that onely was the cause of her
comming. The Gentleman was not slacke, in the execution of the trust reposed in
him: but having made convenient preparation; with the kindred, Sonne, daughter,
and a worthy company attending on them, arrived at Saluzza about dinner time,
where wanted no resort, from all neighbouring parts round about, to see the
comming of the Lord Marquesses new Spouse. By the Lords and Ladies she was
joyfully entertained, and comming into the great Hall, where the tables were
readily covered: Grizelda, in her homely Country habite, humbled her selfe
before her, saying. Gracious welcome, to the new elected Spouse of the Lord
Marquesse. All the Ladies there present, who had very earnestly importuned
Gualtiero (but in vaine) that Grizelda, might better be shut up in some Chamber,
or else to lend her the wearing of any other garments, which formerly had been
her owne, because she should not be so poorely seene among strangers: being
seated at the Tables, she waited on them very serviceably. The yong Virgin was
observed by every one, who spared not to say; that the Marquesse had made an
excellent change: but above them all, Grizelda did most commend her, and so did
her brother likewise, as young as he was, yet not knowing her to be his Sister.
Now was the Marquesse sufficiently satisfied in his soule, that he had seene so
much as he desired, concerning the patience of his Wife, who in so many
hart-grieving trials, was never noated so much as to alter her countenance. And
being absolutely perswaded, that this proceeded not from any want of
understanding in her, because he knew her to be singularly wise: he thought it
high time now, to free her from these afflicting oppressions, and give her such
assurance as she ought to have. Wherefore, commanding her into his presence,
openly before all his assembled friends, smiling on her, he said. What thinkst
thou Grizelda of our new chosen Spouse? My Lord (quoth she) I like her exceeding
well, and if she be so wise, as she is faire (which verely I thinke she is) I
make no doubt but you shall live with her, as the onely happy man of the world.
But I humbly entreat your Honor (if I have any power in me to prevaile by) that
you would not give her such cutting and unkind language, as you did to your
other wife: for I cannot thinke her armed with such patience, as should (indeed)
support them: as wel in regard she is much yonger, as also her more delicate
breeding and education, whereas she who you had before, was brought up in
continual toile and travaile. When the Marquesse perceyved, that Grizelda
beleeved verily, this yong daughter of hers should be his wife, and answered him
in so honest and modest manner: he commanded her to sit downe by him, and saide.
Grizelda, it is now more then fitte time, that thou shouldst taste the fruite of
thy long admired patience, and that they who have thought me cruell, harsh and
uncivill natured, should at length observe, that I have done nothing basely, or
unadvisedly. For this was a worke premeditated before, for enstructing thee,
what it is to be a married wife, and to let them know (whosoever they be) how to
take and keepe a wife. Which hath begotten (to me) perpetuall joy and
happinesse, so long as I have a day to live with thee: a matter whereof I stoode
before greatly in feare, and which (in marriage I thought) would never happen to
me. It is not unknown to thee, in how many kinds (for my first proofe) I gave
thee harsh and unpleasing speeches, which drawing no discontentment from thee,
either in lookes, words, or behaviour, but rather such comfort as my soule
desired, and so in my other succeedings afterward: in one minute now, I purpose
to give thee that consolation, which I bereft thee of in many tempestuous
stormes, and make a sweet restauration, for all thy former sower sufferinges. My
faire and dearly affected Grizelda, shee whom thou supposest for my new elected
Spouse, with a glad and cheerfull hart, imbrace for thine owne daughter, and
this also her Brother, beeing both of them thy children and mine, in common
opinion of the vulgar multitude, imagined to be (by my command) long since
slaine. I am thy honourable Lord and Husband, who doth, and will love thee farre
above all women else in the world; giving thee justly this deserved praise and
commendation, That no man living hath the like Wife, as I have. So, sweetly
kissing her infinitely, and hugging her joyfully in his armes (the teares now
streaming like new-let-loose Rivers, downe her faire face, which no disaster
before could force from her) hee brought her, and seated her by her daughter,
who was not a little amazed at so rare an alteration. Shee having in zeale of
affection) kissed and embraced them both, all else there present being clearely
resolved from the former doubt which too long deluded them; the ladies arose
jocondly from the tables, and attending on Grizelda to her Chamber, in signe of
a more successfull augury to follow, tooke off her poor contemptible rags, and
put on such costly robes, which (as Lady Marchionesse) she used to weare before.
Afterward, they waited on her into the Hall againe, being their true Soveraigne
Lady and Mistresse, as she was no lesse in her poorest Garments; where all
rejoycing for the new restored Mother, and happy recovery of so noble a son and
daughter, the Festivall continued many months after. Now every one thought the
Marquesse to be a noble and wise Prince, though somewhat sharpe and
unsufferable, in the severe experiences made of his wife: but (above al) they
reputed Grizelda, to be a most wise, patient, and vertuous Lady. The Count of
Panago, within few daies after returned backe to Bologna; and the Lord Marques,
fetching home old Janiculo from his country drudgery, to live with him (as his
Father in law) in his Princely Palace, gave him honorable maintenance, wherein
hee long continued, and ended his daies. Afterward, he matched his daughter in a
Noble marriage: he and Grizelda living a long time together, in the highest
honor that possibly could be. What can now be saide to the contrary, but that
poore Country Cottages, may yeeld as divine and excellent spirits, as the most
stately and Royall mansions, which breed and bring uppe some, more worthy to be
Hog-rubbers, then hold any soveraignty over men? Where is any other (beside
Grizelda) who not only without a wet eye, but imboldned by a valiant and
invincible courage: that can suffer the sharpe rigors, and (never the like heard
of proofes) made by the Marquesse? Perhaps he might have met with another, who
would have quitted him in a contrary kinde, and for thrusting her forth of
doores in her smocke, could have found better succor somewhere else, rather then
walke so nakedly in the cold streets. Dioneus having thus ended his Novel, and
the Ladies delivering their severall judgements, according to their owne
fancies, some holding one conceite, others leaning to the contrary; one blaming
this thing, and another commending that, the King lifting his eyes to heaven,
and seeing the Sun began to fal low, by rising of the Evening Starre; without
arising from his seat, spake as followeth. Discreet Ladies, I am perswaded you
know sufficiently, that the sense and understanding of us mortals, consisteth
not onely (as I think) by preserving in memory things past, or knowledge of them
present; but such as both by the one and other, know how to foresee future
occasions, are worthily thought wise, and of no common capacity. It will be (to
morrow) fifteene dayes, since we departed from the City of Florence, to come
hither for our pastime and comfort, the conservation of our lives, and support
of our health, by avoyding those melanchollies, griefes and anguishes, which we
beheld daylie in our City, since the pestilentiall visitation beganne there,
wherein (by my judgement) we have done well and honestly. Albeit some light
Novels, perhaps attractive to a little wantonnes, as some say, and our joviall
feasting with good cheare, singing and dancing, may seeme matters inciting to
incivility, especially in weake and shallow understandings. But I have neither
seene, heard, or knowne, any acte, word, or whatsoever else, either on your part
or ours, justly deserving to be blamed: but all has bin honest, as in a sweete
and hermonious concord, such as might well beseeme the communitie of Brethren
and Sisters; which assuredly, as well in regard of you, as us, hath much
contented me. And therefore, least by over-long consuetude, something should
take life, which might be converted to a bad construction, and by our country
demourance for so many dayes, some captious conceit may wrest out an ill
imagination; I am of the minde (if yours be the like) seeing each of us hath had
the honor, which now remaineth still on me: that it is very fitting for us, to
returne thither from whence we came. And so much the rather, because this
sociable meeting of ours, which already hath wonne the knowledge of many
dwellers here about us, should not grow to such an increase, as might make our
purposed pastime offensive to us. In which respect (if you allow of advise) I
wil keepe the Crowne till our departing hence; the which I intend shalbe to
morrow: but if you determine otherwise I am the man ready to make my
resignation. Many imaginations passed amongst the Ladies, and likewise the men,
but yet in the end, they reputed the Kings counsell to bee the best and wisest,
concluding to do as he thought convenient. Wherupon, hee called the Master of
the housholde, and conferred with him, of the businesse belonging to the next
morning, and then gave the company leave to rise. The Ladies and the rest, when
they were risen, fel some to one kinde of recreation, and others as their
fancies served them, even as (before) they had done. And when Supper time came,
they dispatcht it in very loving manner. Then they began to play on instruments,
sing and dance, and Madame Lauretta leading the dance: the King commaunded
Madame Fiammetta to sing a song, which pleasantly she began in this manner. THE
SONG THE CHORUS SUNG BY ALL THE REST OF THE COMPANY If Love were free
from
Jealousie, No Lady living, Had lesse heart-greeving, Or liv'd so happily as I.
If gallant youth In a faire friend, a woman could content, If vertues prize,
valour and hardiment, Wit, carriage, purest eloquence, Could free a woman from
impatience: Then I am she can vaunt (if I were wise) All these in one faire
flower, Are in my power, And yet I boast no more but trueth. If Love were free
from jealousie, etc. But I behold That other Women are as wise as Which killes
me quite, Fearing false sirquedrie. For when my fire begins to flame Others
desires misguide my aim, And so bereaves me of secure delight. Onely through
fond mistrust, he is unjust: Thus are my comforts hourely hot and cold. If Love
were free, etc. If in my friend, I found like faith, as manly minde I know;
Mistrust were slaine. But my fresh griefes still grow, By sight of such as do
allure, So I can thinke none true, none sure, But all would rob me of my golden
gaine. Loe thus I dye, in jealousie, For losse of him, on whom I most depend. If
Love were free, etc. Let me advise Such Ladies as in Love are bravely bold, Not
to wrong me, I scorne to be controld. If any one I chance to finde, By winkes,
words, smiles, in crafty kinde, Seeking for that, which onely mine should be:
Then I protest, to do my best, And make them know, that they are scarsly wise.
If Love were free from jealousie, I know no Lady living, Could have lesse
heart-greeving, Or live so happily as I. So soone as Madam Flammetta had ended
her Song; Dioneus, who sate by her, smiling said. Truly Madam, you may do us a
great courtesie, to expresse your selfe more plainly to us all, least (thorow
ignorance) the possession may be imposed on your selfe, and so you remaine the
more offended. After the Song was past, divers other were sung beside, and it
now drawing wel-neere midnight, by the Kings command, they all went to bed. And
when new day appeared, and all the world awaked out of sleepe, the Master of the
Houshold having sent away the carriages; they returned (under the conduct of
their discreet King) to Florence, where the three Gentlemen left the seven
Ladies at the Church of Santa Maria Novella, from whence they went with them at
the first. And having parted with kinde salutations, the Gentlemen went whether
themselves best pleased, and the Ladies repaired home to their houses. -THE END-
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