2-5 Andreuccio, of Perugia

NOVEL V. 

Andreuccio, of Perugia, coming to Naples to buy horses, meets with three perilous adventures in one night; from all which he escapes, and returns with a ruby of value. 

The jewels found by Landolfo put me in mind, said Fiammetta, whose turn it was now to speak, of a story as full of perils as the last, but with this difference, that in the one case they happened in the course of some years, whereas in the other they fell out in the space of one night, as you shall hear. 

There lived, as I have heard, at Perugia, a young man named Andreuccio di Pietro, a dealer in horses, who, hearing that they were cheap at Naples, put five hundred florins of gold into his purse; and leaving home for the first time in his life, in company with some other dealers, arrived in that city on a Sunday evening. Having consulted with his landlord, he went into the market next morning, where he saw many horses to his mind, and cheapened some as he went up and down, without coming to any bargain; but to show people that he came with an intent to buy, he unadvisedly pulled out his purse on all occasions. The consequence was, that a very pretty Sicilian damsel (who was at every one's service for a small matter) got sight of the purse, without being observed by its owner: and said she to herself, as she passed on, "Who is there that would be my betters, if that purse were mine?" Along with her was an old woman of Sicily likewise, who, as soon as she saw Andreu,"rcio, ran and embraced him; which the young woman observing, without saying a word, stepped aside to wait for her. Andreuccio recognised the old woman, spoke to her with great cordiality, and having made her promise to come to his inn, he parted from her and went on about his business, but bought nothing all that morning. The young woman, who had taken notice first of the purse, and then of her friend's knowledge of the owner, began to inquire of her, as cautiously as might be, by way of contriving how to come at the money, in whole or in part, who that man was, whence he came, what was his business, and how she happened to know him. These questions the old woman answered in every particular, as fully as he himself could have done, having lived a long time with his father in Sicily, and afterwards at Perugia, and having heard from him the cause of his coming to Naples, and when he was to return. Thinking herself now sufficiently instructed concerning the man's kindred and their names, the young woman laid her plans in the most artful manner possible; and going home, she sent the old woman out upon business for the whole day, that she might have an opportunity of seeing Andreuccio again. In the meantime, towards evening, she despatched a young woman, well trained for such services, to his inn, where the messenger found him sitting alone at the door, and inquiring of him whether one Andreuccio, of Perugia, lived there, he made answer, that he was the man. She then took him a little aside, and said, "sir, a gentlewoman of this city would gladly speak with you, if you please." On hearing this, he began to consider the matter; and, as she seemed to be a creditable girl, he concluded that the lady must be in love with him, being in his own eyes as handsome a man as any in Naples. He answered, therefore, that he was ready, and asked where and when the lady would speak with him. " She expects you," said the girl, "at her own house, as soon as may be agreeable to you." Without saying a word then to the people of the inn, he bade her show him the way; and she brought him to her house, in a certain street famous for such sort of inhabitants; but he, knowing nothing of the matter, nor at all suspecting but that he was visiting a place of repute, and a lady that had taken a fancy to him, went into the house, and going up-stairs (whilst the girl called out to her mistress that Andreuccio was there), found her at the top, waiting for him. She was young, had a fine face and figure, and was very well dressed. Running down two or three steps with open arms to meet him, and clasping his neck, she stood some time without speaking a word, as if overpowered by her emotions; at last, showering tears and kisses on his face, she faltered out, "O, my Andreuccio! you are heartily welcome." Quite astonished at being caressed in such a manner, he replied, "Madam, I am proud of the honour to wait upon you." She then took him by the hand, and led him, without saying a word more, through a large dining-room into her own chamber, which was perfumed with roses, orange-flowers, and other rich odours, and where there was also a fine bed, and other rich furniture, far beyond what he had ever seen before, which convinced him that she was some great lady. When they had sat down together upon a couch at the bed's feet, she addressed him thus: 

"I am very sure, Andreuccio, you must be under great astonishment both at my tears and embraces, as being unacquainted with me, and perhaps never having heard of me before; but you will now hear what will surprise you more, namely, that I am your sister; and I assure you, that since God has indulged me with the sight of one of my brothers - how I wish I could see them all! - I could die contented this very moment. If you are unacquainted with the particulars of my story, I will relate them. Pietro, my father and yours, as I suppose you must know, lived a long time at Palermo, where he was much respected for his integrity and good-nature, and is so still, by all that knew him. But of all his friends, none loved him so well as my mother, a widow lady, who, notwithstanding the regard due to her father and brothers, as well as to her own honour, cohabited with him, till at length I was born, and am now what you see. Having occasion afterwards to retire from Palermo, and to return to Perugia, he left me there an infant, with my mother, and from that time, as far as I can learn, took no more notice either of me or her; which, were he not ray father, I could blame him for; considering what ingratitude he showed to my mother, to say nothing of the love he owed to me, his child, born to him by no vile prostitute, but by one who, out of her abundant love, had put herself and all her wealth into his hands, without having any farther knowledge of him. Well, well ! - ill actions, done so long since, are easier blamed than amended: yet so it was; he left me, as I said, at Palermo, an infant, where, when I grew up, my mother, who was rich, married me to one of the family of the Gergenti, who, out of regard to me and her, came and lived at Palermo, where, being an ardent Guelph, and having begun to treat with our King Charles, he was discovered by Frederick, King of Arragon, before his scheme could take effect, and was forced to fly from Sicily, at a time when I expected to have been the greatest lady ever known in the island. Taking with us what few effects we could (I call them few, in comparison with the abundance we were possessed of), and leaving our estates and palaces behind us, we came at length to this place, where we found King Charles so grateful, that he has made up to us, in part, the losses we had sustained on his account, giving us lands and houses, and paying my husband, and your kinsman, a pension besides, as you will hereafter see. Thus I live here, where, thanks be to Heaven, and not to you, my dearest brother, I now see you." Having so said, she wept, and tenderly embraced him again. 

Andreuccio, hearing this fable so orderly, so artfully composed, and related without the least faltering or hesitation; remembering, also, that his father had lived at Palermo, and knowing, by his own experience, how prone young fellows are to love; beholding, too, her tears and affectionate caresses, he took all she had said for gospel; and when she had done speaking, he replied: "Madam, it should not seem strange to you that I am surprised; for, in truth, whether it was that my father, for reasons best known to himself, never mentioned you or your mother at any time; or, if he did, that I have forgotten it, I had no more knowledge of you than if you had never been born. Truly it is the more pleasing to me to find a sister here, as I the less expected it, and am also alone: nor is there any man, however high he may be, who would not value you; much more myself, who am but a mean trader. But one thing I beg you would clear up to me, that is - How came you to know that I was here?" "A poor woman," she replied, "whom I often employ, told me so; for she lived, as she informed me, with our father a considerable time, both at Palermo and Perugia; and were it not that it appeared more reputable that you should come to my house, than that I should visit you at another's, I would have come directly to you." She then inquired of him particularly, and by name, how all their relations did; to all which he answered her fully, his belief in her story becoming the stronger in proportion as there was the more reason for suspicion. Their conference having lasted a long time, and the weather being sultry, she ordered some Greek wine and sweetmeats for him; and when he made an offer afterwards to depart, because it was supper-time, she would by no means suffer it; but seeming to be under great concern, she embraced him, and said, "Alas! now I plainly see how little account you make of me; that, being with a sister whom you never saw before, and in her house, which you should always make your home, you should yet think of going to sup at an inn. Indeed you shall sup with me; and though my husband be abroad, which I am much concerned at, I will contrive, as well as a lady may, to pay you some little respect." Not knowing what else to say to this, Andreuccio replied, "I love you as much as it is possible for me to love a sister; but it will be wrong not to go, because they will be expecting me to supper all the evening." "Lord, bless me! " She exclaimed, "have I no one here that I can send to tell them not to expect you? But you would oblige me more, and do as you ought, if you would send to invite your friends hither to supper, and afterwards, if you chose to go, you might all of you go together." Andreuccio would not trouble her that evening, he said, with his companions, but for himself, she might dispose of him as she pleased. She now made a pretence of sending to his inn, to tell them not to expect him to supper, and, after much other discourse, they sat down to a choice and copious repast, which she contrived to protract till it was quite dark. When they rose from table, Andreuccio again wanted to go away; but she would by no means suffer it, for Naples, she declared, was not a place to walk in after dark, especially for a stranger; and she had sent word to the inn that he would sleep as well as sup abroad. Believing this to be true, and glad also of being with his sister, he was easily prevailed upon to stay. After supper, she purposely prolonged the conversation to a late hour in the night, when she left him in her own chamber to take his repose, with a boy to wait upon him, she herself retiring with her women into another room. 

It was very hot weather, on which account Andreuccio, seeing himself alone, stripped to his doublet, and pulling off his breeches, laid them under his bolster. Having occasion to retire, he asked the boy to show him a conveniency; the boy pointed to a comer of the room where there was a door, and desired him to enter it. In he went, without the least suspicion, and setting his foot upon a board, which was not nailed at the other end to the rafter on which it was laid, it flew up, and down they went, board and man together. Heaven was merciful to him, however, for he was not hurt by the fall, though the height was great, but he was horribly daubed with the filth, of which the place was full. That you may better understand this, and what followed, I shall describe the place to you. In a narrow alley, such as you may often see between two houses, on two beams reaching from one house to the other, some boards and a place to sit upon were laid, and it was one of these boards that fell down with him. Finding himself now at the bottom, he called in great distress to the boy; but the latter, the moment he heard him fall, ran off to tell his mistress, who hastened to the chamber to see if Andreuccio's clothes were there. Finding both them and the money, which he, out of a foolish mistrust, always carried about him, and having now got hold of that for the sake of which she had laid this snare, pretending to be of Palermo, and the sister of this Perugian, she took no farther heed of her dear brother, but made the door fast, out of which he passed, when he fell. Andreuccio, finding the boy made no answer, bawled out louder and louder, but to no purpose; and now, beginning to suspect the trick when it was too late, he climbed over a low wall which parted the alley from the street, and went to the door, which he knew full well; there did he knock and shout in vain, for a long time; lamenting much, and seeing plainly his calamity: "Alas! "quoth he, "in how little a time have I lost five hundred florins, and a sister besides!"

After many more wailings, he began again to batter the door, and to bawl so loudly that he roused many of the neighbours out of their beds. Among the rest, one of the courtesan's women, pretending to be half asleep, opened the casement, and called out, "Who's that making such a noise there?" - "Oh! "cried Andreuccio, "don"t you know me? I am Andreuccio, brother to my lady Fiordaliso." "Prithee, honest fellow,” replied the woman, "if thou hast had too much liquor, get thee to bed, and come tomorrow. I know nothing of Andreuccio, nor what thy idle tale means; please to go about thy business, I say again, and let us rest." - "What! 'said he, "don"t you know what I say? you know well enough, if you will; but if our Sicilian relationship be so soon forgotten, give me my clothes which I left with you, and ni go with all my heart." "The man is dreaming," she replied, with a contemptuous laugh, and instantly shut the casement. 

Andreuccio, now too well assured of his misfortune, became outrageous in his sorrow; and, resolving to obtain by force, what he had failed to get by fair words, he took a great stone, and banged at the door harder than ever. Many of the neighbours whom he had waked up, supposing that he was some spiteful fellow, who did this to annoy the woman, and provoked at the intolerable noise he made, called out, one and all (just as dogs in the street all join in barking at a strange cur), "It is a shameful thing to come to a decent woman's house at this time of night, with these idle stories: get away, in God's name, and let us sleep; if thou hast any business with her, òome tomorrow, and do not disturb us now." Encouraged, perhaps, by these last words, a bully in the house, whom Andreuccio had neither seen nor heard of, came to the window, and with a most rough and terrible voice, cried out, "Who is that below?" Andreuccio, looking up at this, beheld an ill-looking rascal, with a great black beardy yawning and rubbing his eyes, as if he was just awaked out of his sleep. He made answer, therefore, not without a good deal of fear, "I am brother to the lady within:" but the other (never waiting to let him make an end of his speech) replied, "I don't know what should stop me from coming down and cudgelling thee as long as thou canst stand, for a troublesome drunken beast as thou art, disturbing everybody's rest in this manner;"and with that he closed the window. 

Hereupon some of the neighbours, who knew more of the fellow's character, called out softly to Andreuccio, "For Heaven's sake, honest man, go away, unless thou hast a mind to lose thy life; it will be much the best for thee." 

Terrified by the bully's voice and aspect, and persuaded by these people, who seemed to speak out of mere good will, the woe-begone Andreuccio now gave up all hopes of recovering his money, and wended his way towards that part of the city whence he had been decoyed by the girl the day before. But unable to endure the scent he carried about him, and purposing to have a good wash in the sea, he turned to the left, through a street called Catalana. He had now reached the higher part of the city, when he saw two people coming towards him with a lantern, and fearing that they were the watch, or some ill-disposed persons, he stepped into an old house that was near, to hide himself. It happened that these people were going into the very same place; and one of them having laid down some iron tools there, which he carried over his shoulder, they began to examine nhem together. While they were talking about them, said one to the other, "There is the most confounded stink here that ever I smelt in my life, what can it be?" Then, turning the lantern this way and that, they spied unfortunate Andreuccio, and, in a good deal of amazement, demanded who he was? He made no answer; and, drawing nearer with the light, they asked what he did there in such a pickle? He then related to them his whole adventure; and they, easily guessing where the thing had happened, said to one another, "This must certainly have been in the house of Scarabon Firebrand." Then, turning towards him: "Honest man," said one of them, "you ought to be very thankful that you fell down, and could not return into the house, for otherwise you would certainly have been murdered as soon as ever you went to sleep, and so have lost your life as well as your money. But what signifies lamenting? You may as soon pluck a star out of the firmament, as recover one farthing; nay, you may chance to be killed, should the man hear that you make any words about it." Having admonished him in this manner, they said, 'see, we have pity on you, and if you will engage with us in a certain affair which we are now about, we are very sure that your share will amount to more than you have lost." Andreuccio, like a desperate man as he was, told them he was willing. 

That day had been buried Signor Philippo Minutolo, Archbishop of Naples, in rich pontifical robes, and with a ruby on his finger worth upwards of five hundred florins of gold. His body they proposed to strip and rifle, and they made known their intention to Andreuccio, who, more covetous than wise, went with them towards the cathedral. As they were going along, he smelt so badly, that one said to the other, "Can we contrive no way to wash this man a little, so as to make him stink less infernally?" "Why not! 'said the other, "we are not far from a well, where there are usually a pully and a great bucket; let us go there, and we may make him clean in an instant." Coming to the well, they found the rope, but the bucket was taken away; they therefore agreed to tie him to the rope, and let him down; and when he had well washed himself, he was to shake the rope, and they would draw him up. Now it happened that, after they had let him down, some of the watch, being thirsty with the heat of the weather and a sharp run they had had after some rogue or another, came to that well to drink, and as soon as the two men saw them, they took to their heels: the watch, however, saw nothing of them. Andreuccio had by this time washed himself thoroughly at the bottom of the well; and the watch having laid down their casques and halberds upon the ground, began to draw up the rope, thinking, from its weight, that the bucket was fastened to it, and full of water. As soon as Andreuccio found himself at the top, he let go the rope, and clung fast to the edge of the well; the watch immediately dropped the rope on seeing him, and ran away, frighted out of their wits, which greatly amazed him; and had he not held fast, he would have fallen to the bottom, and perhaps lost his life. Getting out, however, and beholding their weapons, which he knew belonged not to his companions, he wondered the more; and not knowing what to make of it, he went away without touching anything. As he was walking along, not knowing whither, he met with his companions, who had returned to help him out of the well. Greatly surprised to see him, they asked who had helped him out. He replied, that he could not tell, and related to them the whole affair, and what he had found by the well-side: whereupon, laughing heartily, they acquainted him with the reason of their running away, and who they were that had drawn him up. 

Without wasting more time in words, it being now midnight, the three confederates hastened to the great church, entered without difficulty, and went straight to the archbishop's tomb, which was of marble, and of great size. With their levers they raised up the cover, which was very heavy, so high that a man might go under and prop it; which being done, said one, "Who shall go in?" - "Not I," cried the other. - "Nor I," said the first, "but Andreuccio shall." - "I will not go in," quoth Andreuccio; when they both turned towards him, and said, "What! you won't go in? We will beat your brains out this moment, if you don't." Terrified at their threats, he consented, and being now within, he began to consider with himself in this manner: "These fellows have certainly forced me in here to cheat me, and so when I have given them everything, and am endeavouring to get out again, they will run away, and I shall be left empty handed." Accordingly, he resolved to make sure of his part, beforehand; and, remembering the precious ring he had heard them speak of, as soon as ever he got into the vault, he took it off the archbishop's finger, and secured it. Then he gave his companions the pastoral staif, mitre, and gloves, and after stripping the prelate's body to his shirt, he told them there was nothing else. They insisted that there was a ring, and bade him seek everywhere for it. He assured them that he could find nothing of the sort, and, pretending to look carefully about, he kept them some time waiting for him; at length they, who were fully as cunning as himself, calling to him to search diligently, suddenly drew away the prop which supported the cover, and left him shut up in the vault. You may easily suppose what condition he was in now. Many times did he endeavour with his head and shoulders to raise up the heavy slab, but in vain; till, overcome with grief, he fell down upon the dead body; and whoever had seen them then, could scarcely have said, whether there was more life in the one than the other. When at last he came to himself, bitter were his lamentations, seeing that he was now brought to this dreadful dilemma, that he must either die there with hunger, and the stench of the dead carcase, if no one came to help him out, or be hanged for a thief, should any one happen to find him in that place. 

While he was in this perplexity, he heard the noise of many persons in the church, who, he supposed, were come to do what he and his companions had been about, and this greatly added to his fear; but after they had raised up the lid and propped it, a dispute arose which should go in; and none caring to do it, after a long contest, said a priest: "What are you afraid of.” Do you think he will eat you? Dead men cannot bite; I will go in myself." And immediately resting his belly on the edge of the vault, he attempted to slide down feet foremost; which, Andreuccio perceiving, he stood up and caught fast hold of one of the priest's legs, as if he meant to pull him in. The priest upon this making a most terrible outcry, scrambled out immediately; and the whole party, leaving the vault open in their terror, ran for their lives, as if they had been pursued by a hundred thousand devils. Andreuccio, little expecting this good fortune, got out of the vault, and the church, as quickly as he could. 

Day-light had now begun to appear, and wandering, with the ring on his finger, he knew not whither, he came at last to the sea-side, and found the way leading to his inn. There he met with his companions and his landlord, who had been in pain all that night for him; and having related to them all that had passed, he was advised to get out of Naples with all speed. He instantly complied with that advice, and returned to Perugia, having laid out his money on a ring, whereas the intent of his journey had been to buy horses. 

[The first part of this story has been imitated in many tales and romances, particularly in "Gil Blas” where a deceit, similar to that practised by the Sicilian damsel, has been adopted. One of the tableaux of the Trouveurs, entitled "Borvin de Provins” (Barbazan, iii, 357), is the origin of all those numerous tales in which the unwary are cozened by courtesans assuming the character of lost relations.] 

2-4 Landolfo Ruffolo

NOVEL IV. 

Landolfo Ruffolo, falling into poverty, became a pirate, was taken by the Genoese, and suffered shipwreck, but saved himself upon a cask of jewels, was taken out of the sea by a woman at Corfu, and afterwards returned home very rich. 

When Pampinea had finished her tale, Lauretta, who sat next her, at once began thus: 

- Most kind ladies, there is no greater freak of fortune, in my opinion, than to see one of low condition arrive at princely dignity, as Pampinea has just showed us in the case of Alessandro. Now since it is ruled that each of us is to narrate something having direct reference to the prescribed theme, I shall not scruple to relate a story comprising greater hardships than the former, but not having, indeed, so glorious an end. I am sensible that, in this respect, I shall be listened to with the less interest; but, as I am able to give you no better, I hope you will excuse me. 

It is generally admitted, that the sea coast from Reggio to Gaeta is the pleasantest part of Italy; that part of it near Salerno, which the inhabitants call the Coast of Malfi, is full of little towns, gardens, rivulets, and abounds with rich people expert at merchandise. Amongst the rest there is a town called Ravello, in which were many wealthy persons, and one especially, called Landolfo Ruffolo, who, not content with his great store, but willing to make it double, was near losing all he had, and his life also. This man, having settled his affairs, as other merchants are used to do, bought a large ship, and freighting it all on his own account, set sail for the island of Cyprus. He there found many ships laden with the very same commodities as his own, consequently it was necessary for him not only to make a quick market of his goods, but also, if he meant to dispose of them at all, to sell them for a trifle, to his great loss and almost ruin. Grieving much thereat, and hardly knowing what to do, seeing that from great wealth he was reduced almost to poverty, he resolved either to die, or to repair his losses by plunder, rather than go back a poor man to the home from which he had come away so wealthy. Meeting with a purchaser for his great ship, with the money made of that and his merchandise he bought a light little vessel fit for a pirate, and armed and furnished it with everything suitable, intending to make other people's goods his own, and especially those of the Turks. Fortune was abundantly more favourable to him in this way of life than she had been in trade; for, in the space of a year, he took so many Turkish prizes, that he found he had not only got his own again, but made it more than double. 

Being now comforted for his former loss, and thinking he had enough, he resolved, for fear of a second disaster, to make the best of his way home with what he had acquired; and, as he was still fearful of trade, he had no mind to employ any more of his money that way, but set sail in the little vessel in which he had gained it. He was now in the Archipelago, when at nightfall a sirocco, or great south-east wind, arose, directly contrary to their intended course, which made such a sea that the ship could not bear up against it, and they were glad to get into a bay under the cover of a little island, to wait for better weather. 

Landolfo had just entered the harbour when two Genoese caracks came in from Constantinople to avoid the same storm; and, as soon as the men in them saw the small bark, they blocked her in, and on ascertaining that she belonged to an owner whom they knew to be very rich; as men addicted to plunder and rapine, they resolved to make her their prize. Landing some of their men, therefore, well armed with crossbows and other weapons, they posted them so as to prevent any of the crew issuing out of the bark, unless at the cost of their lives; whilst the rest getting into the long-boat, and the sea being favourable, soon boarded Landolfo's vessel, and took all his people, and everything in it, without the loss of a man, leaving him nothing but a waistcoat; and after they had cleared out the vessel, they sank her. The day following, the wind having shifted, they made all sail for the west, and had a good voyage all that day; but night coming on, the wind became boisterous again, and the storm was such that the two caracks were parted, whilst that wherein poor Landolfo was, drove with the utmost violence upon the coast of Cephalonia, and was smashed like a glass flung against a wall. The sea being covered in a moment with all sorts of merchandise, and with chests, tables, and fragments of the wreck, all those of the crew who could swim strove, in spite of the darkness and the fury of the waves, to lay hold of such things as chanced to float near them. Amongst these was the unfortunate Landolfo, who, though he had wished for death a thousand times the day before, rather than return home a beggar, was terrified now that he saw death at hand, and got hold of a plank, like the rest, in hopes that if his fate were delayed, God would send him some means for his escape. Bestriding the plank as well as he could, and driven to and fro by the wind, he supported himself till daylight; and then looking around him he could see nothing but clouds and water, and a chest driving towards him, to his great alarm, for sometimes it came so near that he was afraid it would dash against him, and then he would endeavour, with the little strength he had left, to put it by with his hand; at length a great blast of wind sent it with such violence against the plank on which he floated, as to overset it, and plunge him over head and ears into the water. He rose again, however, and swimming with the strength of fear rather than with his own, he found himself at such a distance from the plank that he was afraid he could not recover it. Getting therefore to the chest, which was nearer, he laid his breast upon it as well as he could, and used his arms for paddles. In this manner was he carried up and down, with nothing to eat, but drinking more than he desired, neither knowing where he was, nor seeing anything but water for a day and a night. 

The next morning (whether it was through God or the force of the winds) Landolfo, who was well nigh become a sponge, grappling the chest with both arms, with the usual tenacity of drowning men, drew near to the island of Corfu, at a spot where, by good fortune, a poor woman was scouring her dishes with salt water and sand. When she saw him approach, and could discover in him nothing in the shape of man, she screamed, and started back in terror. He was too exhausted to be able to speak, and scarcely could he see much; but as the waves carried him towards the shore, the woman could distinguish the shape of the chest. Looking more narrowly, she saw an arm laid over it, and then a face, and knew at once what was the matter. Moved by compassion, she stepped a little way into the sea, which was now calm, and seizing the half drowned wretch by the hair of his head, drew both him and the chest to land, where, with much trouble, she unfolded his arms from the chest, which she set upon the head of her daughter, who was with her. She herself carried Landolfo like a little child to the town, put him on a stove, and chafed and washed him with warm water, by which means the vital warmth began to return, and his strength partially revived. In due time she took him from the stove, comforted him with wine and good cordials, and kept him some days till he knew where he was; she then restored him his chest, and told him he might now provide for his departure. 

He had forgotten all about the chest, but took it from the hands of the woman, supposing that, small as its worth might be, it might serve for his support for a short time. Finding it very light, he was somewhat disheartened; however, whilst the good woman was out of the way, he broke it open, and found a great quantity of precious stones, some of which were polished and set. Having some judgment in such matters, and seeing that these gems were of immense value, he was now thoroughly comforted, and praised God for not having yet forsaken him. However, as he had been twice buffeted by fortune already, and was fearful of a third mishap, he judged that great caution was requisite to bring these things safe home; he wrapped them up, therefore, in old rags, as well as he could, and told the woman that he had no further use for the chest, but that she might keep it if she would give him a sack in its stead, which she was very glad to do. And now, returning her a thousand thanks, he departed with his sack over his shoulder, and passed over in a bark to Brundisi, and thence to Trani, where he met with merchants of his own town, who clothed him out of charity, after he had told them all that had befallen him, only omitting all mention of the cask of jewels. They also lent him a horse, and sent company with him to Ravello, whither he said he wished to return. Arriving there in safety, he gave thanks to God; and now he inquired more narrowly into his sack than he had done before, and found so many valuable jewels, that, rating them at the lowest prices, he was twice as rich as when he left home. Finding means, therefore, to dispose of them, he sent a sum of money to the woman at Corfu, who had taken him out of the sea, and treated him so kindly; and also to the merchants at Trani for clothing him; the remainder he kept, without having any more mind to trade, and lived handsomely upon it the rest of his life. 

2-3 Three young gentlemen

NOVEL III. 

Three young gentlemen squander their fortunes, and a nephew of theirs returning home in as desperate a condition, falls in company with an Abbot, whom he afterwards finds to be the King of England's daughter. She marries him, and makes good his uncles´ losses, reinstating them in their former prosperity. 

The ladies listened with great admiration to the adventures of Rinaldo d'Asti, and commended his devotion, giving thanks to God and St. Julian who had succoured him in his great necessity. Nor did they blame the lady (though they did not care to speak out) for having had the wit to take the good that heaven had sent her. Whilst the rest were pleasantly engaged in talking over the agreeable night which Rinaldo must have had, Pampinea, finding that she was to speak next, after considering a little what she was to say, and receiving the queen's command, began at last in this manner: 

The more we talk of the freaks of fortune, the more, to such as consider them attentively, there remains to be said on the subject. At this none need wonder, who consider that all things, which we foolishly call our own, are in her power; and that she blindly wills them from one to another incessantly, and without any rule or method that can be discovered by us. Though this is a truth evinced every day and in everything, and though it has been already illustrated in some of the previous tales, nevertheless, as the queen is pleased that this should be our present subject, I shall add a story to what has been said already, which I think you will not dislike. 

There dwelt, formerly, in our city, a knight named Tebaldo, who, as some report, was of the family of the Lamberti; though others say he belonged to the Agolanti: but, be that as it may, he was the most wealthy knight of his times, and had three sons; the eldest was called Lamberto, the second Tebaldo, and the third Agolante; all handsome young gallants; though the eldest was not above eighteen when their father died, leaving them in possession of his vast wealth. Finding themselves so rich, and having nobody to control them, they began to spend apace, by keeping vast numbers of servants, and fine horses, and dogs, and hawks, with open house for all comers, making continual tilts and tournaments, and sparing no diversions that belong to gentlemen; indulging themselves besides in every youthful lust and passion. They had not led this life long, before their riches began to waste, and their rents not being sufficient to defray their current expenses, they mortgaged and sold first one estate, and then another; so that they saw themselves coming to nothing, and then poverty opened their eyes, which had hitherto been kept shut. One day, therefore, Lamberto called his two brothers together, and set forth to them the great repute in which their father had lived, the wealth he had left them, and how much they were now impoverished, through their inordinate expenses; advising them, in the best manner he was able, that, before matters grew worse, they should sell the little that was left, and retire from that quarter. 

His advice was followed, and, without taking any leave, or making the least stir, they left Florence, and set sail directly for England. Coming to London, they took a little house, and lived as frugally as possible, letting out money at interest. And fortune was so kind to them, that in a few years they got a great deal of money: by which means, it happened, that first one, and then another, returned to Florence, where they recovered back a great part of their estates, purchased others, and got married; and keeping on their banking trade still in England, they sent a nephew thither, whose name was Alessandro, to manage their business. The three brothers, therefore continued at Florence; and forgetting to what misery they had been reduced by their former extravagance, and notwithstanding they all had families, they began to spend immoderately, having large credit from the merchants. Their expenses were also supported for some years by returns from Alessandro, who had let out money to the barons upon their castles and other estates, which turned to good account. 

Whilst the three brothers continued spending in this manner, and borrowing whenever they stood in need, placing their whole dependence upon returns from England, a war broke out there, contrary to every one's expectation, between the king and his son; which divided the whole kingdom, some taking part with one, and some with the other. The consequence was that all the barons" castles were taken out of Alessandro 's hands, and nothing now was left him that turned to any profit: but living in hopes of peace every day, and then that he should have both principal and interest, Alessandro still continued in the kingdom, whilst the three brethren at Florence abated nothing of their extravagance, but continued borrowing more daily. But, when year after year passed away without any money coming, as was expected, they lost all their credit, and people being desirous of getting what was their due, their effects were seized, which not being found sufficient, they were thrown into prison for the remainder, and their wives and children dispersed up and down the country, in a most distressed condition, with no prospect but of misery for the rest of their lives. 

Alessandro, after waiting some years, and finding no likelihood of peace in England, but that he continued there to no purpose, and in danger of his life, resolved to return to Italy. He set out all alone; and as he was going out of Bruges, he overtook a young abbot, clothed in white, and attended by a great train of monks, servants, and baggage. 

Two aged knights, related to the king, followed the cavalcade. These Alessandro joined; and being known to them, was well received. Travelling in their company, he modestly inquired who those monks were that rode before, with such a retinue, and whither they were going? "He that rides first," replied one of the knights, "is a young gentleman, a relation of ours, who has lately been made abbot of one of the richest abbeys in England; and, because he is younger than is required by the law for such a dignity, we are going to Rome to entreat our holy father to dispense with his want of years: but this is to be a secret." The new abbot riding sometimes before his company, and sometimes behind (as is usual with persons on the road), got sight at last of Alessandro, who was a graceful, well-behaved young gentleman, and was so taken with him at the very first view, that he never saw any one he liked better: and having called him to his side, he inquired who he was, whence he came, and whither he was going? Alessandro answered him very ingenuously, and, at the same time, made him an offer of his little service. The abbot was much pleased with his modest and graceful manner of speaking and behaviour, and especially at findings though his business was mean, that he was a gentleman. And being full of compassion for his losses, he began to comfort him in a friendly manner, bidding him to be of good courage, for if he were a worthy man, God might exalt him to a higher pitch than that from which fortune had cast him down. He desired him, too, as he was going towards Tuscany, to make one in his company, for he himself was likewise travelling thither. Alessandro returned thanks for the encouragement given him, and professed himself entirely at his lordship's service. 

The abbot riding on (having got some new fancies in his head since the sight of Alessandro) chanced, after some days' travelling, to come to a country village, which afforded but bad accommodations; and, because the abbot had a mind to halt there, Alessandro made him alight at the house of a person with whom he was acquainted, and provided him a bed in the least incommodious part of the house. Being now become steward of the household, as it were, to the abbot, he disposed of the company in different parts of the town, in the most convenient manner he was able. After the abbot had supped, it being now midnight, and every one gone to rest, Alessandro inquired of the landlord where he was to lie?" In good truth, sir," replied the man, "you see my house is quite full, so that I and my family must be forced to sleep on benches; yet there are some granaries in the abbot's chamber: I can carry a pallet-bed for you thither, and you may rest as well as you can." - "But, landlord," quoth Alessandro, "how can I be in the abbot's chamber, it being so small that there is no room for any of his monks? If I had thought of it before the curtains were drawn, the monks should have lain in the granaries, and I would have gone where the monks are." "The case is this," said the host, "you may lie there, if you please, as well as anywhere in the world: the abbot is asleep, and his curtains drawn; I can convey a little bed thither softly, and you may rest very comfortably." Alessandro, finding that it might be done without disturbing the abbot, consented, and accommodated himself there with as little noise as possible. 

The abbot, whom his new desires kept awake, heard what passed between Alessandro and his landlord; and finding that Alessandro was there, he began to reason with himself in this manner: "I have now a fit opportunity to compass my desires; if I let this pass, the like may never offer again." Resolving, therefore, to make use of it, and supposing that all was quiet in the house, he called, with a low voice, "Alessandro!" and bade him come and lie down by him; and Alessandro, after many excuses, undressed, and did as he was desired. The abbot then laid his hand upon the other's breast, as a lover would do; which Alessandro was much surprised at, and began to fear that he had some bad design. As soon as the abbot perceived this, he could not help smiling; and having laid his bosom bare, he took Alessandro's hand and put it upon it, saying, "Be not afraid: convince yourself of what I am." Alessandro laid his hand there, and found two breasts smooth and delicate like polished ivory, which convinced him that it was a woman: and he was going to have been more familiar; when she interrupted him, saying, "Before you come nearer to me, observe what I am going to say: I am a woman, and not a man, as you see, and was now travelling to the pope, for him to dispose of me in marriage: but whether it be your good fortune, or my unhappiness, since I first saw you, the other day, I could not forbear loving you as much as woman ever loved a man; I am therefore determined to marry you in preference to any other person; but if you will not accept of me, go hence at once, and return to the place you came from." Though she was unknown to Alessandro, yet, when he considered the company that was with her, he judged that she must be a lady of distinction, and her person he saw was beautiful; therefore, without much consideration, he declared, that if she was willing, he should be highly pleased. She then rose up in bed, and turning towards a crucifix that stood upon the table, gave a ring into his hand, and made him espouse her; and there, locked in each other's arms, they passed the hours that remained till dawn, in great mutual delight. In the morning, after concerting measures for the continuance of their secret meetings, Alessandro rose and stole out of the room, without any one knowing where he had passed the night. 

They proceeded on their route, Alessandro enchanted with the abbot and his company, and after several days' journey they arrived in Rome. Soon afterwards the abbot, with the two knights and Alessandro, was introduced to his holiness, and, after the customary reverences, thus addressed him: 

"Holy father, you know better than anybody that they who desire to live honestly and well should avoid, as much as in them lies, all occasions which may lead them to act otherwise. For which reason have I fled, in the garb you behold, with a great part of the treasure of my father, who is King of England, and was about to marry me, young as I am, to the King of Scotland, who is very old, and I am come hither to beg that your holiness would dispose of me in marriage. Nor was it the age of the King of Scotland that made me fly, so much as the fear of doing, through the frailty of my youth, were I married to him, what should be contrary both to the laws of God and to the honour of our royal house. As I was coming with this intention, Providence set before my eyes him whom, in its mercy, it destined I should accept as my husband. It was this young gentleman (here she pointed to Alessandro), whose merit and behaviour make him 

worthy of the greatest princess, although his family be less noble. Him have I chosen, nor will I think of any other, however it may seem to my father or any one else. The principal inducement then to this journey is removed: but I chose to proceed, that I might visit the holy places with which this city abounds, and also your holiness, to the end that the contract of marriage, made only in the presence of God, may be declared in yours, and so made public to the world: wherefore I humbly entreat your blessing, to make us more capable of pleasing Him, whose vicar you are, that we may live together to the honour of God and of you, and at length die so."

Great was Alessandro's surprise and joy when he heard that his wife was the King of England's daughter; but the knights were enraged beyond measure, and, had it not been in the pope's presence, they had certainly offered violence to Alessandro, and perhaps to the princess likewise. On the other hand, the pope was in amaze, both at her dress and the choice she had made; but, seeing that what was done could not be undone, he was willing to satisfy her request. Having consoled the two angry and astounded knights, and made peace between them and the lady and Alessandro, he gave orders for what he would have done; and when the appointed day was come, he made the lady appear most royally dressed before all the cardinals, and other great personages, who had been invited to a most magnificent feast, where she appeared so beautiful and courteous, that every one was charmed with her. In like manner was Alessandro richly apparelled; in his aspect and behaviour being more like a prince than a person brought up to trade, and he was much honoured by the two knights. The pope saw the marriage celebrated with all imaginable grandeur; and, after receiving his benediction, the bride and bridegroom took their leave. 

Alessandro and his lady were desirous, when they left Rome, of seeing Florence, whither fame had already carried the news of their marriage; and they were received there with the utmost respect. She immediately took the three brothers out of prison, paying all their debts, and settled them and their wives in their former estates. This gained them the goodwill of every one; and departing thence, they took Agolante with them, and came to Paris, where the king received them in a most honourable manner. Thence the two knights went to England, where they prevailed so far with the king that he forgave his daughter, and received them with all possible demonstration of joy, making his son-in-law a knight, and creating him Earl of Cornwall. Alessandro's behaviour and conduct were such, that he accommodated matters between father and son, which was of great service to the kingdom, and gained him the love and esteem of every one. Agolante recovered all that was due to him, and returned to Florence immensely rich, being first knighted by Count Alessandro, who lived happily with his princess; and it is reported that, through his prudence and valour, and the assistance of his father-in-law, he made a conquest of Scotland, and was crowned king of that realm.