NOVEL II.
The parson of Varlungo receives favours from a woman of his parish, and leaves his cloak in pawn. He afterwards borrows a mortar of her, which he returns, and demands his cloak, which he says he left only as a token. She mutinies, but is forced by her husband to send it.
They all thought that Gulfardo had served the sordid Milanese lady very justly, when the queen turned with a smile towards Parafilo, and desired him to follow: - I mean, said
he, to relate a short story, touching those people who are continually doing us injuries, without our being able to come at them, in the same manner at least as we are affected; I mean the priests, who set up a general crusade against our wives, thinking when once they bring any of them under their subjection, that they have done as meritorious an action as if they led the sultan captive from Alexandria to Avignon. Now we of the laity cannot return the like to them, though we should do well to revenge what is so done to our wives, with as good a will, upon their mothers, sisters, and other relations. I will tell you, therefore, of a country amour, more diverting, in the conclusion especially, than long, by which you may reap the benefit of learning that priests are not to be believed in all things.
At Varlungo, a village not far from this place, lived a young healthful priest, who, though not very expert at reading, yet was he used to hold forth under an elm-tree every Sunday, regaling the people there with many good and holy discourses. And as to the women, no priest ever gave them better attendance; for he was daily carrying them presents of cake, holy-water, and candle ends, when he would also give them his blessing. Amongst all his parishioners, none pleased him so well as a good woman, called Belcolore, wife to a certain husbandman, whose name was Bentivegna del Mazzo: she in truth, was a tight, handsome brunette, and could sing, and play upon the virginals, or lead up a dance as well as any lass in the country; so that our priest was out of his wits about her. All day long would he go poking about to get a sight of her, and on Sunday, when she was at prayers, he would quaver out his Kyries and his Sanctuses, like a jackass braying, to let her see that he was a master of music; but if she happened not to be there, he made no such stir; and yet he managed so, that neither the husband nor any of the neighbours suspected him. The better to gain her favour, he was every now and then sending her presents: one day a bunch of leeks, the finest in the country, out of his own garden, planted by his own hands; another time a basket of peas, and onions or scallions, as the season served. And, when he saw an opportunity, he would give her a look out of the comer of his eye, whilst she would generally pass on, making believe that she never noticed his ogling; so that, hitherto, it was all labour lost.
Now one day it happened, as the priest was dawdling about, that he met the husband, driving a loaded ass before him, when he accosted him, and asked whither he was going? "Why truly, father," he replied, "I am going about some business to the city, and I carry these things as a present to one Signor Bonaccori da Ginestreto, for him to enter an appearance for me, and to stand my friend in a cause that I have before the judge." The priest seemed pleased, and said, "son, you are in the right: go, you have my blessing, and make haste home; and if you should see Lapuccio or Naldino, do not forget to tell them to bring home my leathern straps." The honest man promised to deliver his message, and so went on towards Florence, whilst the priest thought this a fit opportunity to go to Belcolore, and try his luck with her. Accordingly, he made no stop till he came to the house, and stepping in, he called out, "God bless all here; who is within?" - Belcolore was gone up stairs, and when she heard him she said, "You are welcome, sir; but what are you doing abroad in the very heat of the day?" The priest replied, "I am come to spend a little time with you, finding that your husband has gone into the city." She then came and sat down, and began to pick some cole-seed, which her husband had just been threshing, when he said, "Ah, Belcolore! must I always die for you in this manner?" She laughed and replied, "Pray, what have I done to you ?" - "Nothing to me; but you will not let me do what I should like to you." - "Oh, go along with you! do priests do such things?" - "Why not, as well as other people?" - "Well, but what will you give me? for I know you are all as stingy as the devil." - "Why, ask what you will; a pair of shoes, or a top-knot, or a girdle, or anything eise that you like." - "Father, I want none of these things; but, if you love me as you say, do one thing for me, and I will consent." - 'say what it is, and be assured that I will do it most willingly." - "On Saturday, then," she said, "I must go to Florence to carry some yarn home, which I have spun, and to get my wheel mended; and if you will lend me five pounds, which I know you have, I can redeem from the broker my best gown and petticoat, which I have been forced to pawn, and for want of which I am not able to appear upon any saint's day, and you will then find me always ready to oblige you." - " As I hope for a good harvest," quoth the priest, "I have not so much about me, but I will take care you shall have it before that time." - "I know you all," she replied, "to be good promisers, and that you never think of performing what you say. No, I will make no such bargains.
If you have not the money in your pocket, go and fetch it." - "Alas! "quoth the priest, "never send me home at this time; you see there is nobody here now; perhaps, when I return there may; so that we can never have a better opportunity." - "Very well," said she, "you know my resolution, either bring the money, or else go about your business."
The priest perceiving that her intention was not to comply without a salvum me fac, whereas he was for having it sine custodia", said, "Well, if you will not take my word, see I leave you this cloak as a pledge." - "Your cloak!" She said, looking up; "pray what is it worth?" - " Worth!" answered the priest; "I would have you to know that it is made of a fine serge; nay, there are some of our people that call it a broad cloth; I bought it fifteen days ago only, of Lotto, the fripperer, and it cost me seven pounds; and Buglietto tells me, whom you will allow to be a judge, that I got five shillings at least by the bargain." - "Ay! did it stand you in so much?'said she; "I could never have thought it; but give it me first." He did so, and when she had locked it up, she turned to him, and said, "Let us go into the bam, no one ever comes there. So said, so done, and master Parson got what he had bargained for. After this he had to go home in his cassock, as if he had been celebrating a wedding, when he began to repent of what he had done; and, considering with himself that all his vails and offerings for the whole year would not amount to five pounds, he fell to contriving how to get his cloak hack for nothing, and at last his cunning supplied him with the following stratagem.
The next day being holiday, he sent a boy to Belcolore, desiring her to lend him her stone mortar, as he had two neighbours to dine with him, and he intended to make them some green sauce. She sent it, and, about dinner-time, when he expected that she and her husband would be seated together, he called his clerk, and said, "Go, take this mortar to Belcolore, and tell her, that your master gives her many thanks, and desires she would send the cloak which the boy left by way of token." The clerk took the mortar, found the husband and wife just finishing their dinner, and delivered his message. When he asked for the cloak, she was going to make a reply; but the husband put on an angry look, and said, "How came you to take any token from our priest? I have a good mind to box your ears for doing so. Return it, I say, directly, and let him want what he will of ours, I charge you never to say him nay." Upon this she went grumbling to the press for the cloak, and giving it to the clerk, she said, "Tell your master, the priest, that so help me God, he shall mix no more sauce in my mortar."
The clerk delivered it with those very words, upon which the priest laughed, and said, "When you see her, you may tell her, if she will not lend me her mortar, I will not lend her my pestle, and so we are even." Now the husband imagined that she had spoken in that manner, because he had just been quarreling with her, for which reason he was under no concern about it. But she continued so provoked, that she would never speak to the priest from that time till the season of the vintage, when, after she had long threatened to send him to the devil, he found means to pacify her at last, with some new wine and chestnuts, and instead of the five pounds, he tuned her virginals for her, and made her a song, which so contented her, that they became as good friends as ever.
[This tale was probably suggested to Boccaccio by the first part of the Fabliau "Du Pretre et de la Dame," though the imitation is not nearly so close as in most of the other tales in which our author has followed the Trouvers. In the Fabliau, a priest, while on an amatory visit to the wife of a burgess, is nearly surprised by the unsuspected coming of the husband. His mistress has just time to conceal him in a great basket, which stood in an adjacent apartment; but in the hurry he led his cloak behind him. He had not long remained in the basket before it occurred to him that it might be applied to better purposes than concealment; taking it in his arms, he returned boldly to the room where the burgess was sitting with his wife, and requested, as he had now brought back the basket, ot which he had the loan, that the cloak which he had left in pawn should be restored to him. (Fabliaux par Barbazan et Méon, iv. 181.)]
