NOVEL II.
Friar Albert makes a woman believe that an angel is in love with her, and in that shape deceives her. Afterwards, for fear of her relations, he throws himself out of the window, and takes shelter in a poor man's house, who exposes him the next day in the public market-place, in the form of a wild man, when he is discovered by two friars, and put into prison.
The story related by Fiammetta drew tears several times from the eyes of all the company; but it being now finished, the king, looking gravely, said, "I would have given my life willingly to have enjoyed but half the pleasure which those lovers met with. Nor need you wonder at that, because I undergo a thousand deaths daily, without the least pleasure whatever in return. But, letting my fortune alone for the present, it is my will that Pampinea proceed; who, if she goes on as well as Fiammetta has begun, I shall expect to receive some small degree of comfort more to my affliction." Pampinea, finding herself fixed upon for the next novel, and having more regard to the inclination of the company, which she very well knew, than to the king's command, and being more desirous of diverting them than of satisfying his melancholy temper, chose a novel which should make them laugh, though she still kept to the subject proposed: - It is a common saying, said she, that a wicked man, who has the reputation of being virtuous and good, may do many things, and nobody believe it. This affords ample matter for discourse, and a fit handle for me to shew how great the hypocrisy is of some of the religious, who have their garments long and large; their faces made pale artificially, and on purpose; their language so meek and humble, to get men's goods from them; yet are sour and harsh enough in reproving them of vices, of which they themselves are guilty; whilst they pretend that they merit heaven just as much by receiving, as the others do by giving. Who also, not as if they were to get thither by their own endeavours, but as though they were the possessors and lords of it, portion out to every person that dies, a better or a worse place therein, according to the amount of money bequeathed to them; thus deceiving themselves, in the first place, if they really mean what they say, and afterwards those who put their trust in them. Of whom, might I have the liberty of speaking all I know, I could quickly disclose to many simple people, what wickedness is too often concealed under that holy habit. I could wish, however, that the same success might attend the hypocrisy of them all, as befell a certain friar, who was concerned in some of the best families in Venice; the relation of which may prove some diversion to you, after your grief for the death of Ghismond.
There lived at Imola a man of a very bad life, called Berto della Massa, whose evil deeds had gained him such a character there, that nobody could believe him even when he spoke the truth. Finding, therefore, that all his quirks and cunning would stand him in no further stead at Imola, he removed, in a kind of despair, to Venice, the common receptacle of every sort of wickedness, and resolved to manage matters in a quite different manner from what he had done: and, as if he felt some remorse of conscience for his past life, pretending also to be seized with uncommon zeal and devotion, he turned friar, calling himself Father Albert of Imola. In this habit he seemed to lead a mighty sanctified life, highly commending penance and abstinence, and eating no flesh and drinking no wine; but then it was when he could get neither to please him. Besides this, when he was officiating at the altar at any time, if he saw he was taken notice of by many people, he would be sure to weep over our Saviour's passion, having tears enough at command whenever he chose. In short, what with his preaching and crying together, he had so far insinuated himself into the good graces of the people of Venice, that there was scarcely a will made but he was left executor; he had the care also and disposal of many people's money; and was adviser and confessor to the greatest part both of the men and women; so that from a wolf he became the shepherd, and the fame of his sanctity was greater than ever was that of St. Francis.
Now it happened, that a vain simple lady, named Lissetta da Ca Quirino, wife to a merchant, who was gone a voyage to Flanders, came one day, with some other women, to confess to this holy friar: and being asked, as she was confessing, if she had a lover? she replied, putting on an angry countenance, "What! father, have you no eyes in your head? Where do you see a woman so handsome as myself? I could have lovers enough; but my beauty is designed for none of them; it is fit only to appear in heaven itself." And many more things she said of the same sort, enough to give any one a surfeit to hear them. Father Albert immediately saw her blind side and thought her fit game for his net, but deferred using any flattering speeches till a more convenient opportunity: to shew himself, however, holy for that time, he began to reprove her, telling her all this was vain-glory, and so forth. The lady, in return, called him a brute, and told him he could not distinguish beauty when he saw it. He then, not to provoke her too far, took her confession, and dismissed her.
A little time after, taking a friend with him whom he could trust to the house, he went with her to one side of the hall, where nobody could see them, and falling down upon his knees, said, "Madam, I must beg, for Heaven's sake, that you will forgive me for blaspheming your beauty, as I did last Sunday; since I was so chastised the following night for it, that I could not rise out of my bed before today." - "And who," quoth the foolish lady, "chastised you in that manner?" - "I will tell you. As I was saying my prayers that night, as usual, suddenly a great light shone around me. I turned about to see what it was, and beheld a beautiful youth, with a staff in his hand, who took hold of my hood, threw me down upon the floor, and beat me in such a manner, that I was almost killed. Upon my asking what all that was for? he made answer, "Because thou didst so saucily presume to reprove the celestial beauty of Madam Lisetta, whom I love above all things in the world,” - "And who are you?” I demanded. "I am the angel Gabriel," he replied. "O, my Lord," then said I, "I beseech you to forgive me."
He answered, "I do forgive thee, upon condition that thou goest the very first opportunity to her, and obtain her pardon: and unless she thinks fit to excuse thee, I shall return, and give thee such discipline as thou shalt feel as long as thou shalt live." What he said more I dare not speak, unless I have your forgiveness.
My lady windbag, who had something of a sweet tooth in her head, gave ear to this ridiculous story, and said, "I told you. Father Albert, that my beauties were of the celestial kind; I am sorry for what you have suffered, and forgive you, if you will tell me truly what the angel said besides." - "That I will," said he; "but one thing I must enjoin you, namely, that you tell it to no person living, unless you have a mind to ruin all; for you are certainly the happiest woman upon the face of the earth. This angel Gabriel told me, then, that he had such a regard for you, that he should frequently have come to pass the night with you, if he thought you would not be too much terrified. He bid me tell you, therefore, that he should come some night, and stay a while with you; and seeing that he is an angel, and that you could not touch him if he were to come in that shape, he will put on a human appearance for your sake, and would know from you when you would choose to see him, and whose form and person you would have him assume." The conceited woman said she was very happy to hear that the angel Gabriel loved her, for indeed she loved him, and never failed to set up a full candle wherever she saw him painted. At any hour he might please to come he should be welcome, and would find her alone in her chamber: but on this condition, that he should not forsake her for the Virgin Mary, of whom it was said he was very fond; and, indeed, so it appeared, for he was everywhere to be seen on his knees before her. Furthermore, he might come in any form he pleased, provided he did not frighten her. "Madam," said the friar, " you talk very sensibly, and I will arrange with him as you desire; but I have a great favour to beg, which will cost you nothing; it is that he may put on my person. I will tell you why I ask this. It is because he will take my soul out of my body and put it in paradise, and will enter into me; and as long as he is with you, so long will my soul be in paradise." "I consent with all my heart," answered she; "it will be some amends for the blows you have received." - "But," said he, "the door must be open, otherwise, as he comes in human shape, he would not be able to enter your house”. She promised it should be done. Friar Albert then took leave of her, and she remained in such a transcendant state of exaltation, that she did not know which way her sitting parts hung, and thought every moment a year till the angel Gabriel should come to her.
By way of preparation for the part he had to play that night. Friar Albert fortified himself with provocatives and lots of good things; and, when it was dark, he went with a companion to the house of a woman, who used to accommodate him when he had such affairs on hand. Having there put on his angelic accoutrements, he went to the lady's house, found the door on the latch, and stepped up into her chamber. When Lisetta beheld that shining white apparition, she knelt down before it; the angel gave her his benediction, raised her from the ground, and made a sign to her to go to bed. She obeyed with cheerful alacrity, and the angel lay down beside his votary. Friar Albert was a fine lively fellow; Lisetta was a dainty bit of flesh; and he soon let her know the difference between an angelic bedfellow and her husband. Many a flight he took that night without wings; the lady fairly screamed with delight; and between whiles he told her many things of the glories of heaven. Just before daybreak he went away as he had come, after making arrangements for his return, and rejoined his comrade, whom the good woman had kindly taken into her own bed lest he should be frightened if he lay alone.
As soon as Lisetta had dined, she set off with her companion to see Friar Albert, and told him all about the angel Gabriel, what she had heard from him about the glories of heaven, how he was made, and a thousand marvellous stories of her own invention.
"I don't know, madam," replied the friar, "how you fared with him; but well I know that after he came to me last night, and I gave him your message, he suddenly transported my soul into a place of such exquisite pleasure as never was known, where it remained till this morning; as for my body I know not what became of it." - "Don't I tell you!” said Lisetta; "your body lay all night in my arms with the angel Gabriel; and if you will not believe me, look under your left breast where I gave the angel - oh! such a kiss, that you'll bear the marks of it for some days to come." - "Well," said the friar, "I will do what I have not done for a long time past, that is, strip myself and see if what you say is true." After much more talk of this kind, Madam Lisetta went home; and the angelic Franciscan continued his visits to her for a long time without impediment; but at last her silly babble spoiled all.
One day it chanced that, being with an acquaintance, the conversation turned on female beauty, and Lisetta to exalt herself above all others, must needs say, "If you but knew what a conquest I have made, you would say no more about other women." Her friend, who was eager to draw her out, replied, "That may be very true; and yet anybody but myself might hesitate to believe it, not knowing who is the person in question." - "I ought not to name him," said the vain creature, "but as I have no secrets from you, I will tell you that it is the angel Gabriel; and he loves me better than himself, as the finest woman to be found, so he tells me, in the whole world or within the lagoons." The friend could hardly help laughing out, but refrained that she might hear more. "By my faith, my dear," she said, "if the angel Gabriel is your lover, and told you this, of course he knows
best; but I had no idea that angels did such things." - "You were mistaken, my dear, I give you my word my husband's but a fool to him; and he tells me that they make love in heaven just the same as here, but he fell in love with me because there is none equal to me up there; nay, he comes down very often to be with me; what do you say to that?"
It seemed an age to the friend till she could get away from Lisetta and have her fill of laughter. In the evening she had a bevy of ladies at an entertainment, and told them the whole story. They, again, told it to their husbands and to other ladies, and these to more, so that in less than two days it was known all over Venice. Lisetta's brothers-in-law heard of it amongst the rest, and without saying a word to her on the subject, they kept watch for several nights together to discover this angel and see if he could fly. Some inkling of the matter also reached the ears of Friar Albert, and one night he went to reprimand her for making it public, but had no sooner got into the apartment, and stripped himself, than he heard the brothers-in-law at the door. Jumping up at once, and seeing no other way to escape, he opened the casement that was over the great canal, and threw himself directly into it. As the water was deep, and he was a good swimmer, he received no harm: and espying a house on the other side, with the door open, he rushed into it, and entreated the honest man to save his life, telling him a thousand lies concerning the reason of his coming there in that manner, and at that time. The man, being moved with pity, and having some business which called him away for a time, desired him to go into his bed, and lie there till he should return; he then locked him up in the house, and went about his business. The brothers-in-law, upon coming into the lady's chamber, found that the angel Gabriel had left his wings there, and flown away without them. They gave her, therefore, a tremendous rating, and left her disconsolate, carrying off the angel's implements along with them.
In the meantime, the sun having risen, the man had repaired to the Rialto, where he heard the whole story how the Angel Gabriel had been to spend the night with Madonna Lisetta, and how he was discovered by her relations, and forced to leap into the canal, and nobody knew what was become of him; whence the cottager concluded it must be the same man that he had safe and fast at home. Finding, upon his return, that this was the fact, after some discourse together he made the friar send home for five hundred ducats, threatening otherwise to deliver him up to the woman's friends. When the money was brought, and the friar was desirous of getting away, the honest man said to him, "I see no way for your escape but one. today we make a great rejoicing, when one person is to bring a man clothed like a bear, another like a wild man, and so on; and in that manner people are to come under different disguises into St. Mark's Place, as to a hunt; and when the diversion is over, every man leads away the person that he brings, to what quarter he pleases. Now, if, before any one knows that you are here, you will consent to be led in one of these disguises, I will carry you afterwards where you will; otherwise I do not see how you can get away without being observed; for the relations, guessing that you are somewhere here-abouts, are everywhere upon the scout for you." This seemed a hard sentence to the friar; but his fear of being discovered was so great, that he at last consented. Accordingly he was besmeared all over with honey, and covered with feathers; a chain was put about his neck, and a mask upon his face, with a great stick in one hand, and a couple of butcher's mastiffs in the other; and a man was privily sent before to the Rialto, to make public proclamation, that all who had a mind to see the angel so much talked of, might repair to St. Mark's Place: which was a Venetian trick at best.
When that was done. Father Albert was led forth, and all the way as he was carried along, there was a great outcry of the people, wondering what thing it was: and being brought into the great square, what with the people that followed, and those that flocked thither, upon hearing the proclamation, the crowd was immensely great. The fellow then tied his wild man to a pillar, pretending to wait till the sport began; in the meantime, as he was bedaubed with honey, the flies and wasps began to grow exceedingly troublesome to him. Perceiving, at last, the square sufficiently crowded, under a pretence of turning his wild man loose, the man took off the mask, and said, "Gentlemen, as I find we are to have no other sport today, I intend to show you the angel who comes down from heaven o"nights to comfort the Venetian ladies." No sooner was the mask removed, than all present recognized Father Albert, and there was a most terrible outcry against him, every one pelting him with whatever filth came to their hands, till at length the news reached the convent, when two of his brethren came, and, throwing a gown over him, carried him away with the utmost difficulty to their monastery, where he was thrown into prison, and ended his days in a miserable manner. Thus did this man's hypocrisy and wickedness meet with their due reward; and may the like fate attend all his kind.
[The numerous tales founded on that species of seduction practised by Alberto da Imola, may have originated in the incident related in all the romances concerning Alexander the Great, where Nectanebus predicts to Olympias that she is destined to have a son by Ammon, and afterwards enjoys the queen under the appearance of that divinity. But they have more probably been derived from the story related by Josephus (lib. xviii, c. xiii) of Mundus, a Roman knight in the reign of Tiberius, who having fallen in love with Paulina, wife of Saturninus, bribed a priestess of Isis, to whose worship Paulina was addicted, to inform her that the god Anabis, (Anubis) being enamoured of her charms, had desired her to come to him. In the evening she accordingly proceeded to the temple, where she was met by Mundus, who personated the Egyptian divinity.
Next morning she boasted of her interview with Anabis to all her acquaintance, who suspected some trick of priestcraft; and the deceit having come to the knowledge of Tiberius, he ordered the temple of Isis to be demolished, and her priests to be crucified. Similar deceptions are also common in eastern stories. Thus, in the History of Malek, in the "Persian Tales," the adventurer of that name, under the semblance of Mahomet, seduces the Princess of Gazna. A fraud of the nature of that employed by Alberto da Imola is frequent in the French novels and romances, as in "L'Amant Salamandre," and the “Sylph Husband," of Marmontel. It is also said to have been oftener than once practised in France, in real life, as appears from the well-known case of Father Girard and Mlle. Cadière.]
