Showing posts with label knight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label knight. Show all posts

Thursday 19 August 2021

7-5, jealous man confesses his wife

NOVEL V. 

A jealous man confesses his wife under a priest's habit, who tells him that she is visited every night by a friar; and, whilst he is watching the door, she lets her lover in at the house-top. 

Lauretta having made an end, the king, without loss of time, pointed to Fiammetta, who began in this manner: - The preceding novel brings to my mind the story of another jealous person, which I will relate, being of opinion that those husbands are justly served in that manner, who are jealous without reason. And if legislators, when they make their laws, could be supposed to think of everything, I imagine they would decree no other punishment than what is ordered in cases of self-defence: for those jealous people are frequently the death of their wives. All the week long are they kept mewed up in their houses, and when holidays come, that they should have some ease and diversion, as all other people according to the laws both of God and man have then rest, yet on those days are they more confined than at any other time; so that none are so wretchedly enslaved as themselves. Therefore I conclude that a trick put upon a husband, who was jealous without any reason, will by you be rather commended than blamed. 

There lived in Arimino a certain rich merchant, who had an agreeable woman for his wife, of whom he was immoderately jealous, and for no other reason in the world, but that as he was very fond of her himself, and knew that it was her whole study to please him; so he imagined every one else would like her as well, and that she would be as desirous to oblige them; which showed him to be one of a wicked disposition, as well as of little understanding. He consequently kept so strict an eye over her always, that no felon under sentence of death could be more narrowly watched. So far from going out to feasts at any time, or to church, or out of doors, under any pretence whatever, she was not suffered to look out of the window; so that she led a most wretched life, and so much the worse, as she knew herself to be innocent. 

Thus, finding herself so wrongfully treated, she resolved, for the time to come, to give him some reason for such usage. And as she had no opportunity of seeing people in the street, and knew that there was an agreeable young man living in the next house, she looked about to see if there was any chink in the wall, through which she might have an opportunity of speaking to him, to make him an offer of her love, and to have him come to her sometimes, if such a thing could be contrived, in order to spend her life with a little more comfort, till her husband should be cured of his jealousy. At last, in a comer of the room, she espied a crack which looked into a chamber of the next house, and she said to herself, "Now if this should prove to be Filippo's chamber (for that was the young gentleman's name), "my scheme would be half accomplished." She set her maid to work to ascertain the truth upon this point, and soon learned that the young man did sleep there all alone. She now made it her business to visit that place pretty often, and put little sticks and straws through into her neighbour's chamber, which he soon perceiving, came to the wall to see what it meant. Then she called to him softly; he knew her voice and answered; a few words sufficed to make her mind known to him, which being quite to his satisfaction, he contrived to enlarge the opening on his own side, taking care all the time that nobody should perceive it. From that time they had frequent conferences together, and could touch each other's hands, but no more, because of the husband's extraordinary care and jealousy. 

Now Christmas-day drawing near, the lady said to her husband, that, with his leave, she would go to church that day, to confess and receive the sacrament, like other good Christians. "And pray what sins can you have committed," he replied, "that you should want to confess?" - "What! " quoth she, "do you take me for a saint? Though you keep me shut up in this manner, yet I must sin as well as other people; but I am not going to tell them to you, as you are no priest." These words occasioned such a strong suspicion in him, that he was resolved to know what those sins were; and having determined what means to use, he told her that he was willing; but that she should go only to their chapel, and that betimes in the morning, and confess to their chaplain, or some person that he should appoint, and to no other, and return home directly. The lady seemed partly to know his design, and without making any other reply, said she would do as he desired. On Christmas-day, then, she rose betimes in the morning, and went to the chapel, as her husband had directed her. He also went to the same place, got there first, and having agreed with the priest what to do, he put on a gown, with a great hood that almost covered his face, such as we see priests wear sometimes, and drawing it over his eyes, sat himself down in the choir. The lady, upon coming into the chapel, inquired for the priest; who, hearing from her that she wanted to confess, told her, that he could not stay to hear her himself, but would send one of his brethren. Accordingly he sent the jealous husband, in an ill hour for him, as it happened, who had not so well disguised himself, but she immediately knew him, and said to herself, "Thank Heaven, from a jealous fool he has become a priest: but I will take care to give him what he seeks for." 

Affecting then not to know hrm, she sat down at his feet. The jealous gentleman had put some little stones into his mouth, to alter his voice, thinking himself well enough disguised as to everything else. Coming then to the confession, amongst other things, she told him, that, though married, she was yet in love with a priest, who came and lay with her every night. When the confessor heard this, he felt as if a knife was stuck into his heart, and were it not for his desire to learn something farther, he would have gone away that moment, and left her on her knees. Keeping his seat, then, he said to her, "Well, but how is it? Does not your husband lie with you." - "Yes, he does, sir," she replied. "Then," continued he, "how can the priest lie with you at the same time?" - "I know not how he does it, but there is not a door in the house but opens upon his touching it; he tells me also, that, upon coming to our chamber, before he opens the door, he says some certain words, which throw my husband asleep, and then he comes in, and lies with me, and the other never knows it." - "O, madam," quoth the confessor, "that is a very bad thing; you must leave off such practices entirely." - "Ah, father," answered she, "I know not how to do it, I love him so well." - "Then I can give you no absolution." - "I am sorry for that," she replied; "but I came here to speak the truth: if I could leave off, I would tell you so." - "I am sorry for you, as I see your soul is in a state of damnation; but I will offer up my particular prayers for you, which may be of service, and I will send a person to you at certain times, when you may inform him if you think you have received any benefit, and in that case we will proceed farther." 

The lady replied, “sir, never think of sending anybody to our house, for my husband is so unreasonably jealous, that all the world could never beat it out of his head but that he came with a bad intent, and I should not have one good day for this twelvemonth." 

- "Madam," he rejoined, "have no care for that, for I shall manage in such a manner, that you will hear no more from him upon that score." - "If you can do that," said the lady, "I am content." And having made an end of her confession, and had her penance assigned her, she got up and went to mass. 

The husband, ready to burst with fury, put off the priest's habit, and went home, waiting to find the priest and his wife together, in order to wreak his vengeance upon both; whilst she went out of the church, seeing plainly by his looks that she had given him but a bad Christmas-box, though he endeavoured to conceal both what he had done and meant farther to do. Resolving then to wait the next night at the door for the priest, he said, "I shall go out to sup and stay all night; be sure, therefore, you lock the street door, and that upon the stairs, as also your chamber door, and when you are disposed you may go to bed." She wished him a good night, went immediately to the chink in the chamber, and made the usual sign, when Filippo came to her, and she told him what she had done that morning, and what her husband had said afterwards, adding, "I am confident he will never stir from the door all night long; do you contrive a way, then, to come in at the top of the house. " He replied, full of joy, "Depend upon it. Madam, I will." When night came, therefore, the jealous husband armed himself privately, and lay concealed in the ground-room, whilst his wife made the doors fast, especially that upon the stairs, so that he could not come up to her: and the young man, when he thought it proper time, came by a secret way into her chamber, where they enjoyed themselves all night, without fear of interruption. The husband, in the meantime, continued supperless all night long, uneasy to the last degree, and almost starved to death with cold, waiting by the door for the priest. Day appearing at last, and nobody coming, he composed himself there to sleep. Rising at the third hour, and the door of the house being now opened, he came in, pretending to come from another place, and called for his breakfast. Soon afterwards he sent a messenger to his wife, as from the priest who had confessed her, to know if that person had come to her since. She, who understood full well the nature of the message, replied, "No, he did not come that night, and if he left off visiting her, she might forget him, although she had no desire to do so." 

What more need I say to you? The husband continued to watch every night, and the wife and her gallant were together all the time. At last, being out of all manner of patience, he demanded of her, with the utmost wrath in his looks, what it was that she had confessed to the priest? But she refused to tell him, saying that it was neither just nor reasonable. "Vile woman?"he cried, "I know in spite of you, what it was, and will make you confess who this priest is, that lies with you every night, by virtue of his enchantments, or else I will cut your throat." She replied, "It is false; I never lay with any priest." - "What!” said he, " did you not say so and so to the priest who confessed you?"

- "Not," she replied, "for him to tell you again; but if you were present, it is a different thing: then, to be plain with you, I did say so." - "Now tell me," quoth he, "who this priest is, and quickly." 

She smiled and said, "I am always glad to see a wise man led (by the horns as it were) by a simple woman; though you deserve not that character, since you have suffered yourself to be transported by an unreasonable fit of jealousy, without knowing why; therefore, the more weak you are, the less is my glory. Do you think my eyes are as bad as your understanding? No; I knew very well who the priest was that confessed me, and that was you. But I was resolved to give you what you wanted, and I think I have done so. But if you were as wise as you would be thought, you would never have desired to come at your wife's secrets in that manner, and would have known, without any vain suspicion, that every word was true which I said, and without the least crime or offence. I told you I loved a priest: were not you, my unworthy husband, then a priest? I said, no door could be kept shut when he had a mind to come to me: and is not that literally true? I added that the priest lay with me every night. And pray when did you lie from me? And when you sent to know if he was with me that night - you know that very time you had not been with me- I answered that he had not been with me. Who but a person blinded with jealousy, like yourself, but must have understood these things? And yet you kept watch all night at the door, and would have made me believe that you were gone elsewhere to sup and spend the night Consider a little better, and behave like a man, and do not make a fool of yourself any longer, in the eyes of one who is acquainted with all your ways, as I am. Leave off this extraordinary care upon my account; for, I assure you, were I disposed to be what you suspect, had you a hundred eyes, whereas you have only two, I could do it over and over again, and you be never the wiser." 

The poor jealous creature, who had thought himself very cunning before, now saw how he was despised, and, without more words, devested himself of that foolish and troublesome disposition, ever after esteeming his a wife virtuous and prudent woman. And she had no further occasion to make her lover come in at the top of the house, as cats do; for the door was open afterwards whenever they had a mind to be together. 

[This story is an ingenious improvement upon the Fabliau "Du Chevalier qui confessa sa Femme." It has been frequently imitated. In the 78th of the "Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles," entitled "Le Mari Confesseur,” a lady who is confessed by her husband under the disguise of a priest acknowledges a criminal intercourse with a squire, a knight, and a priest. On hearing this, the husband bursts out into an indignant exclamation. "Were you not," says she, with some presence of mind, "a squire when I married you, were you not afterwards a knight, and are you not now a priest?"

This is copied by Lafontaine, in "Le Mari Confesseur." ] 

THE SIXTH DAY. NOVEL I. Knight, lady.

THE SIXTH DAY. 

The moon had now lost her brightness in the midst of the heavens, and the world became illumined by the appearance of the new day, when the queen arose with all her company, and they walked forth upon the dewy grass, to some distance from that little eminence, holding various arguments by the way concerning their late novels, and making themselves merry with reciting some of the most entertaining over again: till at last, the heat growing excessive, as the sun was mounted to a greater height, they turned back, and came to the palace, where, the tables being set forth against their return, and every part of the house bedecked with sweet smelling flowers, they sat down to dinner. When that was over, and after they had sung a few songs, some went to sleep, and others played at chess; whilst Dioneo and Lauretta sang the song of Troilus and Cressida. At the usual hour they met, by the fountain's side, and the queen was about to call for the first novel, when she was interrupted by an occurrence such as never had happened before, namely, a great noise and tumult among the servants in the kitchen. The queen sent for the master of the household to know what it was all about, but he could not tell; all he knew was that there was a dispute between Licisca and Tindaro. The queen then ordered the pair to be brought before her, and when they were come into her presence she demanded the reason of their discord. Tindaro began to make answer, - when Licisca, whose blood was up, turning upon him in high disdain, exclaimed, "How dare this beast of a man presume to open his mouth before me! Let me speak." Then turning to the queen she proceeded: 

"This fellow, my lady, would tell me, forsooth, all about Sicofante 's wife, for all the world as if I did not know her of old; and he would have me believe that there was violence and bloodshed the first night Sicofante went to bed to her; but I say there was no such thing, but all passed very smoothly and comfortably. This jackass actually believes that young girls are such fools as to lose their time, waiting, shilly shally, three or four years, till their fathers or brothers think fit to get them a husband. Ecod, a fine time they'd have of it waiting so long! By the faith of a Christian! and I ought to know what I am saying when I swear that oath, among all my gossips there is not one that went a maid to her husband: aye and the married women too, I know what tricks they play on their husbands: and yet this great mutton-headed oaf would have me learn from him what are the ways of women, as if I was born yesterday." 

Whilst Licisca talked thus, the ladies laughed at such a rate you might have drawn all their teeth. The queen commanded her six times at least to hold her tongue, but it was of no avail. As soon as she had let out all she chose to say, the queen turned to Dioneo, and said with a smile, "This question belongs to your province; therefore, when our novels are ended, you shall give your verdict upon it." "Madam," he replied at once, "the verdict is given without hearing more; I say that Licisca is right, and I agree with her in opinion that Tindaro is an ass." 

When Licisca heard this she burst out laughing, and turning to Tindaro: "I told thee so," she said; "God help thee, with thy eyes hardly open yet, to think thou knowest more than I do. Gramercy! I have not lived for nothing, not I." And if the queen had not peremptorily cut her short, and ordered her and Tindaro to begone, nobody else would have had a chance of speaking that day. When the disputants were gone, the queen called on Filomena to begin the day's novels, which she did as follows: 

NOVEL I. 

A certain knight offers a lady to carry her behind him, and to tell her a pleasant story by the way; but, doing it with an ill grace, she chose rather to walk on foot. 

Ladies, as stars are the ornaments of heaven, flowers of the spring, and as the hills are most beautiful when planted with trees, so a smart and elegant turn of expression is the embellishment of discourse; and the shorter the better, especially in women. But true it is, whether it be owing to our unhappy dispositions, or some particular enmity which the stars bear to our sex, there is hardly any among us that knows how to say a good thing pat to the occasion, or to understand it when said, which is a great disgrace to us all. 

But as Pampinea has before enlarged on this point, I shall say nothing farther, but only show, by the neat manner in which a lady silenced a knight, the great beauty of a word or two spoken in due time and place. 

You may all of you have heard, that there lived in our city, not a great while ago, a lady of much worth and wit, whose good qualities deserve not that her name should be concealed; she was called Madame Oretta, and was the wife of Signor Geri Spina. Once when she was in the country, and was taking a long walk with some ladies and knights, who had dined at her house the day before, the way seemed a little tedious, and one of the knights, who happened to be on horseback, said, that if she pleased, he would take her up behind him, and entertain her with one of the best stories in the world. The lady willingly accepted the offer. The knight, who told a story with as ill a grace as he wore a sword, began his tale, which was really a good one; but, by frequent repetitions, and beginning it over again to say it better; by mistaking one name for another, and relating everything in the worst manner, he mangled it to that degree, that he made the lady quite sick. Unable to bear it any longer, seeing him set fast and not likely soon to extricate himself, she said pleasantly to him, "sir, your horse has a very uneasy, trot, pray set me down." The knight, who took a hint more readily than he told a story, made a laugh of it, and began another tale, leaving unfinished the one he had begun so badly.