NOVEL X.
Paganino de Monaco carries away the wife of Signior Ricciardo di Chinzica, who, understanding where she was, goes thither, and growing acquainted with Paganino, he demands her hack, which the other consents to, provided she is willing: she refuses to return; and upon Ricciardo's death becomes the wife of Paganino.
All the company commended the queen's story, and especially Dioneo, who was the only person left to speak for that day; and having said much in praise of it, he began to this effect: - Ladies, part of the queen's novel has made me change my intention with regard to what I meant to relate: what I allude to is the brutishness of Bernard (though it turned out well for him), and of all such as himself, who think as he did; namely, that whilst they are travelling about from place to place, and diverting themselves sometimes with one lady and sometimes with another, they conclude that their wives are sitting with their hands before them all the while, as if we did not know to the contrary. I shall therefore show you how great the folly is of all such people, and of those especially, who, supposing themselves to be more powerful than nature hath really formed them, think to cover all by fabulous demonstrations, and endeavour to make other persons" constitutions and tempers square with their own, however contrary it may be to their natural bent and inclination.
There once lived at Pisa, a certain judge, endowed with greater genius of mind than bodily ability, whose name was Signior Ricciardo di Chinzica. Being possessed with a notion that it would cost him no greater efforts to content a wife than to perform his judicial duties, he determined, as he was very rich, to have a wife who should be very young and very handsome; two things which he ought to have shunned, had he known how to advise himself as well as he did other people. He had his wish, however, for Signior Lotto Gualandi bestowed on him his daughter Bartolomea, one of the briskest and most beautiful ladies in all Pisa, though there are few among them all that are not as yellow as a kite's foot. The worthy judge brought his bride home in great state, and gave a sumptuous wedding entertainment, but only summed up once in the course of the night, and even then was near breaking down in his harangue; and after all he was obliged to recruit his exhausted spirits with malmsey and cordial confections before he could return to his ordinary avocations. Being a better judge now of his own strength, he began to teach his wife a calendar, formerly printed at Ravenna, for the use of children learning to read. With that document in his hand, he showed her that there was scarcely a day in the year but what was dedicated to some saint or other, and some days had more saints than one: in reverence to whom, as he proved by many reasons, a man and his wife ought to. keep asunder at those times. To these he added the fast days, the four terms, the vigils of the Apostles, and a thousand other saints, with Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays, and all Lent; also certain seasons of the moon, and many other exceptions; and in short he seemed to think it fit that a dies non should be as frequent an occurrence in the conjugal bed as in the courts of law. In this manner he lived with his lady, to her great discontent, scarcely conversing with her once a month, and keeping a strict watch over her, for fear some other person should teach her what belonged to working-days, as he had done with respect to holidays.
In the meantime it happened that, the season growing extremely hot, Messer Ricciardo went for recreation to spend a few days at one of his country-seats, near Monte Nero, taking his lady with him; and, to make it more agreeable to her, they went out fishing together one day, he and the fishermen being in one boat, and she in another, along with some ladies, who went to see the sport. Thinking of nothing but their diversion, they had insensibly drifted out many miles to sea, without perceiving it, when on a sudden they were surprised, in the midst of their sport by a galliot belonging to one Paganino da Monaco, a famous pirate of those days. They tried hard to escape, but in spite of all their efforts, the pirate captured the boat which had the women on board, and struck by the beauty of the judge's wife, he carried her into his own ship in sight of her husband, who had now reached the shore; and, without meddling with anything else, sailed directly away. How sorrowful Ricciardo was at seeing this you may easily imagine, he who was jealous of the very air itself. Loud and long were the complaints he made, both at Pisa and elsewhere, of the villany of these corsairs; but all in vain, for he knew not who it was that had taken his wife, or whither she was carried.
As for Paganino, he was delighted to have made prize of a lady so young and so handsome; and, being without a wife, he resolved to keep her in lieu of one. He began by soothing her alarm with all sorts of tender expressions, and as these had not all the effect he desired, when night was come he proceeded to administer more practical consolation; for he had lost his almanac, and had clean forgotten all distinction between workdays and holidays. His charitable efforts were so successful, that long before the lady reached Monaco, the judge and his laws were quite gone out of her head, and she lived with all the comfort in the world with Paganino, who, besides the consolation he bestowed on her by night and by day, treated her with the respect and consideration due to a wife.
After some time, it came to Messer Ricciardo's ears what had become of his wife, and he set off, with the utmost impatience, to fetch her back, supposing no other person so proper for that business as himself, and fully resolved to give any sum of money for her ransom. Arrived at Monaco, he saw her, and she him; and that night she told Paganino of it, informing him what she meant to do. The next morning Messer Ricciardo meeting with Paganino, they soon became acquainted together; the pirate pretending all the time to know nothing of him, but waiting to see what he meant to do. As soon as a fit opportunity offered, Messer Ricciardo began to set forth the occasion of his coming thither, and, in as handsome a manner as he could, to desire that the other would take what ransom he thought fit, and restore him his wife. Paganino answered very courteously - "sir, you are heartily welcome; but the case, in short, is this: I have a young woman in the house with me, though whether she is your wife, or any other person's, I cannot tell; for I neither knew you nor her before she lived with me. If you are her husband, as you say, I will bring you to her, since you seem to be a very civil gentleman, and she must certainly know you. If she agrees with your story, and is willing you should take her away, your behaviour has been such, that I shall desire no other recompense than what you are pleased to give me. But if it should prove otherwise, I must tell you, that you offer me great wrong to attempt to take her from me: for I am a young man, and know what to do with a wife as well as another person, especially such an one as she, who is the most agreeable woman I ever saw." "Most certainly, sir, she is my wife," Messer Ricciardo replied, "and, if you please to take me to where she is, you will soon be convinced of it, for she will immediately throw her arms about my neck: therefore I desire it may be as you have proposed." - "Let us go then," quoth Paganino.
When they were come into the house, and sat down together in the hall, Paganino ordered the lady to be called, and she being dressed, and ready for that purpose, came to them, but took no more notice of Messer Ricciardo, than she would have done of any other stranger who should come into the house with Paganino. The judge, who had expected to be received by her with the utmost joy, was much surprised at this, and thought to himself, 'surely the grief I have sustained for the loss of her, has so changed my looks, that she does not know me again." He therefore said to her, "My love, it has cost me dear to take you fishing, for I was never so grieved in my whole life, as since I lost you: and yet you seem not to know me; so cruelly are you silent. Do not you see that I am your Ricciardo, come to pay whatever ransom the gentleman may demand, in whose house we are now together, to have you back with me? And he is so kind as to offer to restore you at what price I shall fix myself." - "Do you speak to me, sir?" said the lady, turning to him with a smile. "Take care you do not mistake my person, for I do not remember ever in my whole life to have seen you before." "Do you take care what you say," he replied, "look well at me; if you will recollect yourself, you may plainly see that I am your husband Ricciardo di Chinzica." The lady made answer, "You will excuse me, sir, it is not so modest as you may suppose, to gaze much upon you; but I have looked enough to know, that I never saw you in my whole life till now." Ricciardo supposed that she did this only through fear of Paganino, and that she was unwilling to confess before him; for which reason he desired, as a favour, to talk alone with her in the chamber. Paganino consented on condition that he would not offer to kiss her against her will; and bade the lady to go up stairs with Messer Ricciardo, hear what he had to say, and answer him as she thought proper.
She complied, and when they were seated together, the judge again addressed her, "Alas! my life, my soul, sweet object of all my wishes! "he exclaimed, "do you not know your Ricciardo, who loves you more than himself? How can this be? Am I so altered, my jewel? Look upon me a little." She began to laugh, and without letting him proceed farther, said, "I am not so forgetful, you must be aware, as not to know that you are Ricciardo di Chinzica, my husband; but during the time I was with you, it very ill appeared that you had any knowledge of me: for were you really as wise as you would be thought, you must have perceived that I was young and lively, and consequently you ought to have bethought you that young wives have need of something else besides food and raiment, though modesty forbids them to mention it. If you were fonder of the study of the laws than of a wife, you ought never to have married: though, in truth, you seem rather a proclaimer of feasts and fasts, than a judge; yet, let me tell you, should you allow your labourers in the field as many holidays as you take yourself at home, you would never reap one grain of corn. Heaven, in its merciful consideration for my youth, has made me fall in with a person whom I like very well, who keeps none of your Fridays and Saturdays, nor your feasts, vigils, and long Lents: him, therefore, I intend to abide with while my youth continues, and let the fasting part alone till I grow old. Therefore the sooner you go about your business, in God's name, the better, and keep as many fast days without me as you please."
The poor judge was wofully discomfitted by this speech, and said, after she had done speaking, "My dear love, what words are these that I hear from you? Have you no regard for your parents" honour, and your own? Had you rather abide here in a mortal sin, as this man's harlot, than at Pisa as my wife? He will soon grow weary of you, and turn you off with great contempt; but I shall always love you, and when I die, leave you mistress of my house. Can an inordinate and shameful appetite make you careless of your honour, and of me, who love you more than my own life? Do not say so, my dearest! Go along with me: now I know what the grievance is, I will strive to do better. My joy! my treasure! change your mind and depart with me, for I have never known a happy day since you were taken from me." "Sir," she replied, "I desire nobody to be careful of my honour but myself: my parents should have had regard to that when they made me your wife; and if they were careless of me at that time, why should I now be mindful of them? And as for my living in a mortal sin, never trouble your head about that: I am here considered as Paganino's wife, but at Pisa I was more like your baggage; there was so much to do between us with respect to the times of the moon, the quadratures and conjunctions of the planets; whereas here we mind no such thing. Paganino cuddles me all night in his arms, and hugs, and kisses, and bites me, and the Lord knows what besides. But you say you will strive to do better; it is impossible, our complexions are so widely different. Go home, therefore, and try to keep yourself alive, for that is as much as you are able to do: and as for his discarding me, should that ever happen (which at present seems far from his thoughts), I will never return to you, for, if you were squeezed in a press, one could not get a spoonful of juice out of your dry body. No, I have had vexation enough with you already, and for comfort I would look elsewhere. In the meantime, I tell you once more, that here we have no feasts and fasts, and here I intend to stay; therefore, either go directly about your business, or I will call out that you design to force me."
The judge, now utterly confounded, and aware at last of his folly in marrying so young a person, left the room, and had some talk with Paganino, which came to nothing. In the end, therefore, he was forced to leave his wife, and he returned to Pisa, where he ran raving about the streets, making no answer to any friend that accosted him, except that his strumpet would keep no holidays; and soon afterwards he died. The news came no sooner to the ears of Paganino, than he married the widow, knowing the love she had for him; and they lived happily together, banishing all fasts, Lents, and such things from their house. Wherefore, it seems plain to me, my dear ladies, that Bernard quite mistook the case in his dispute with Ambrose.
This story made them laugh till their sides ached, and all agreed that Dioneo was in the right, and that Bernard was an ass. And now the queen, seeing that her reign was at an end, took the garland from her own head, and put it upon Neifile's, saying pleasantly to her, "To you, dear friend, belongs henceforth the government of this little people." Neifile, blushing at the favour done her, looked like a rose in the dewy dawn of an April day, her eyes, though a little downcast, yet sparkling like the morning star. After the murmur of the applauding company was a little abated, and she had resumed her courage, she spoke to this effect: "As I am now your queen, I shall keep to the method which has been hitherto observed, and which you have approved of by your concurrence, and will tell you in a few words what I would farther have done. You all know that tomorrow will be Friday and the next Saturday, both of which are inconvenient days, on account of laying in provisions. Moreover, Friday is a day to be reverenced, on account of our Saviour's passion: therefore I hold it fit that we rather pray that day, than attend to novels. As for Saturday, it is usual to make everything clean on that day: many people also observe it as a fast, in honour of the holy Virgin, as well as the ensuing sabbath, on which day no work may be done. Wherefore, as we cannot go on exactly in the same manner as we first began, I hold it best to suspend the relation of any more novels: and as we shall then have been here four days, it will be convenient to go to another place, which I have already fixed upon, and where I have made provision for you, if we would avoid admitting some new guests, who might probably come to see us. When we shall be there assembled, let our next argument still be the mutability of fortune, as exemplified in the adventures of such persons as have acquired, by their diligence, something greatly wanted by them, or else recovered what they had lost. Let every one think of something to say upon this subject, which may be useful, or at least entertaining; saving always his privilege to Dioneo."
They all commended what the queen had ordered, and agreed it should be done; she afterwards called the master of the household, to give directions for that night's entertainment, and for what else was necessary during her royalty: and then she gave the company leave to go wherever they pleased. They took a walk, therefore, into the garden, where they amused themselves till supper-time: and having supped with great cheerfulness and mirth, and being risen from table, Emilia began a dance, by the queen's command; whilst the following song was sung by Pampinea, the rest joining in a chorus.
SONG.
Of all I want or wish possest,
Which of us here should sing but I,
Come, gentle Cupid, heavenly guest,
The constant source of all my joy!
And teach my late desponding lyre
No more in plaintive notes to mourn.
But mirth and am"rous joy inspire,
Whilst in your pleasing flames I burn.
You first before my eyes have plac'd
An ardent lover, gay and young;
With every manly virtue grac'd,
And soft persuasion on his tongue.
But what crowns all my hope is this,
Our hearts and wishes fondly join;
That mutual and the same our bliss,
His love sincere, and fix'd as mine.
Cupid, ´tis to your gift I owe
That in this world I'm amply blest;
May Heav´n, in whom I trust, bestow
In that to come, eternal rest!
They sang many more songs also, and led up several more dances, playing divers kinds of music; but the queen judging that it was now time to go to bed, they went with a light before them to their respective chambers, bestowing the two following days in the manner, which she had before prescribed to them; and waiting with impatience for Sunday.
[La Fontaine's "Calendrier des Vieillards” is an imitation of this story. The concluding incident corresponds with one in the story of "D'un Tailleur et de sa Femme,” in the "Contes Turcs.”]
