NOVEL VI.

NOVEL VI. 

A plain honest man, by a casual jest, very shrewdly reproves the hypocrisy of the clergy. 

EMILIA, whose turn came next (the witty reproof given by the marchioness to the king of France, being approved by the whole assembly), began in this manner: - I will not conceal a most stinging reproof given by an honest simple man to a most sordid and avaricious monk, which you will both commend and laugh at. 

There was, not long since, a friar belonging to the Inquisition, who, though he laboured much to be righteous and zealous for the Christian faith, had yet a much keener eye after those who had full purses, than after those who held heterodox opinions. By his great diligence in this way, he soon found out a person better stored with money than sense. This man, not so much out of profaneness as want of thought, and perhaps overheated with liquor into the bargain, unluckily said to one of his companions, that he had better wine than Christ himself ever drank. This was reported to the inquisitor, and he, understanding that the man's estate was large, and that he was full of money, sent all his myrmidons, had him seized, and began a prosecution, not so much with a design to amend him in matters of faith, as to ease him of part of his money, as he soon did. The man being brought before him, he inquired whether that was true which had been alleged against him. The poor man immediately answered, that it was, and told him in what manner the words were spoken. Thereupon the most holy inquisitor (devoted to St. John with the golden beard) retorted: "What! dost thou make Christ a drunkard, and curious in the choice of wines, like common sots and frequenters of taverns? and now wouldst thou excuse it as a small matter? It may seem so to thee; but I tell thee, should I proceed with the rigour of justice, thou wouldst be burnt alive for it." With these and such-like words, as if he had to do with a downright atheist, he so terrified the poor wretch, that he was forced to have recourse to a little of St. John's golden grease, - a most sovereign remedy (although it be not mentioned by Galen in his book of medicines) against the pestilential avarice of the clergy, especially of the lesser friars, who are forbidden the use of money. With that unguent the poor man anointed the inquisitor's hands to such purpose, that the fire and faggot, with which he had been threatened, were changed into a cross, which, being yellow and black, seemed like a banner designed for the holy land. The money being paid, he was to stay there for some time, being ordered, by way of penance, to hear mass in the church of the holy cross every morning, to visit the inquisitor also at dinner-time, and to do nothing the rest of the day but what he commanded; all which he performed punctually. One morning it happened, that, during mass, the gospel was read, wherein were these words: - "You shall receive a hundred for one, and so possess eternal life;" words of which he kept fast hold in his memory. That same day he waited on the inquisitor at dinner-time, as he had been commanded, and the latter asked him, whether he had heard mass that morning. "Yes, sir," replied the man very readily. "Hast thou heard anything therein," quoth the inquisitor, "as to which thou art doubtful, or desirous to ask any questions?” No, surely," said the honest man, "and I believe all that I have heard most stead-fastly; only one thing I remember, which occasions great pity in me for you and the rest of your brethren, as to what will become of you in the other world." - "And what are those words, which make you pity us so much?" - "O, good sir," said the man, "do you remember the words of the gospel? "You shall receive a hundred for one?'" 

- "Well, what of them?" quoth the inquisitor. "I will tell you, sir - ever since I have been here, have I seen sometimes one, and sometimes two great cauldrons of broth, given out of your great abundance every day to the poor, after you and your brethren have been sufficiently regaled. Now, if for every one of these you are to receive a hundred, you will all of you be drowned in broth! " This set the whole table in a roar, and the inquisitor was quite confounded, knowing it to be a satire upon their great hypocrisy; and were it not that he had been much blamed for his former prosecution, he would have given the man more trouble: he ordered him, therefore, in a rage, to go about his business, and not come near him any more. 

NOVEL V. The Marchioness of Monferrat

NOVEL V. 

The Marchioness of Monferrat, by a repast consisting of hens, and a witty reply, cures the King of France of his dishonourable love. 

DIONEO's story at first put all the ladies to the blush; but looking at each other as he went on, they could hardly keep from bursting out laughing. They refrained, however, and when he had done, they intimated to him, with a gentle reprimand, that such tales should not be told in the presence of ladies. The queen then nodded to Fiametta, who sat next, to take her turn, which she did most cheerfully as follows: 

- It is no little joy to me, to find the force of smart and witty replies so well set forth in what has already passed among us. Now, as it is accounted a mark of good sense in men, to aim at ladies of superior quality to themselves; so it is no less a token of the greatest discretion in women, to take care never to be surprised in love by men of higher degree. For which reason I shall now relate, how a woman by her wit and address may ward off an attack of that kind, when there is a design upon her honour. 

The Marquis of Monferrat was a person of great valour, and being standard-bearer to the church, had gone abroad in a general crusade of the Christian princes against the Turks. One day, as they were discoursing of his prowess at the court of Philip, surnamed the Short-sighted, who was preparing in France for the like expedition, a courtier said, in the king's presence, that the whole world had not so accomplished a pair as the marquis and his lady; for as much as he excelled other cavaliers in valour, so much was she superior to the rest of her sex in worth and beauty. These words so affected the king, that, from that very moment, though he had never seen her, he began to be passionately in love. He resolved to go by land as far as Genoa, that he might have an honourable pretence for paying her a visit, thinking that, as the marquis was absent, he could not fail of accomplishing his desires. With this design, having sent the greatest part of his company before him, he set forward with a small retinue, and being come within a day's journey of the lady's abode, he sent her word, that on the morrow she might expect his company at dinner. The lady very cheerfully replied, that she should esteem it a singular favour, and would make him heartily welcome. For a long while she could not conceive why so great a prince should come to see her, when her husband was from home; but supposing at last that the fame of her beauty must have drawn him thither, she resolved nevertheless, as she was of a noble spirit, to show him due respect: for which purpose she summoned the principal gentry, who were left in the country, to consult them about what was necessary for his reception, reserving the entire management of the feast to herself. Then, buying up all the hens that were in the country, she ordered the cooks to get nothing else for his majesty's dinner, but to dress them in as many different ways as possible. 

Next day the king came, and was received by the lady with great joy, and had all due honor paid him; and finding her exceed even what had been said before in her favor, he was greatly astonished. He then retired awhile into the apartments, which had been provided for him, to repose himself; and when dinner was ready, his majesty and the lady sat down at one table, and their attendants at other tables, all placed according to their respective qualities. Here the king was served with dishes one after another, and with the most costly wines, feasting his eyes yet more with the sight of the lady; and highly delighted he was with his entertainment. But observing at last that all the different courses, however dressed up and variously cooked, were nothing but hens, he began to wonder much, for he knew that the country about was well stored with venison and wild fowl, and he had signified his intention time enough for them to have provided both. Turning, therefore, a merry countenance to the lady, "Madam," he said, "are hens only bred in this country, and no cocks?" The lady, who well understood the meaning of his question, now thinking that she had a fit opportunity of letting him know her sentiments, boldly answered: "Not so, my lord; but women, however they may differ in dress and titles, are the same here as in other places.” The king hearing this, immediately found out the meaning of the entertainment; as also what virtue lay couched under her answer. And being sensible that words would be spent in vain on such a lady, and force he could not use, he therefore judged it more becoming his honour to stifle his ill-conceived passion; and so, without more words (as being afraid of the lady's replies), when dinner was over, that he might shadow his dishonourable coming by a hasty departure, he thanked her for the honour he had received, took his leave, and posted away to Genoa. 

NOVEL IV. Monk

NOVEL IV. 

A Monk having committed an offence, for which he ought to have been punished, saves himself by wittily proving his Abbot guilty of the very same fault. 

Thus ended Filomena, when Dioneo, who sat next to her (without waiting the queen's order, as knowing that he was to follow in course), spoke as follows: 

If I understand you right, ladies, we are assembled here to amuse ourselves by telling stories: whilst nothing, then, is done contrary to this intention, I suppose every one has liberty to relate what he thinks will be most entertaining: therefore, having heard how, by the pious admonitions of Jeannot de Chivigni, Abraham the Jew was advised to his soul's salvation; and also how Melchizedeck, by his good sense, saved his wealth from the designs of Saladin; I shall without fear of reproof, show, in a few words, how cunningly a monk saved his bones from the punishment intended him. 

There was once, in the territories of Lunigiana, a monastery, better stored both with monks and religion than many are now-a-days; and among its inmates was a young monk, whose lusty vigour neither fasting nor praying could mortify. Now it chanced one day, about noon, whilst his brethren were all asleep, that taking a walk about their church, which stood in a lonesome place, he cast his eye upon a good looking wench, some labourer's daughter apparently, who was gathering herbs in the fields. Assailed at the first glance by carnal concupiscence, he went up and accosted her, and talked to such purpose that she agreed to go to his cell with him, before anybody was stirring abroad to see them. But whilst they were diverting themselves together, with more eagerness than caution, it happened that the abbot woke up, and hearing, as he passed the cell, the noise made by the pair within, he laid his ear to the door to listen, and plainly distinguished a woman's voice. At first he was inclined to command that the door should be opened; but on second thoughts he returned to his chamber to wait till the monk should come out. 

The latter, meanwhile, though highly delighted with his companion, could not help being a little suspicious of a discovery; and fancying that he heard footsteps at the door, he peeped through a crevice, saw the abbot standing to listen, and knew that he was detected, and should be soundly punished. This caused him extreme uneasiness; yet, without showing anything of it to the girl, he set his wits to work to contrive how he might get clear of the affair, and at last hit on a stratagem which succeeded to his heart's desire. Pretending that he could stay no longer - "I must go," he said to the girl, "and will contrive a way to get you off without being seen; lie still, then, till I return." - 

He then locked the door after him, carried the key to the abbot, as is usual with the brethren when they go out of doors; and, putting a good face on the matter, - "My Lord," he said, "I could not get all my wood home this morning, and if you please, I will go now and fetch the remainder." The abbot, readily inferring that the young monk was unconscious of having been detected, was glad to have such an opportunity to make a more perfect discovery; accordingly he took the key, and gave the required leave. 

No sooner was the other departed, than he began to consider what he had best do in this case; whether to open the door in presence of all the monks, that so, the offence being known to all, they could have no room to murmur when he proceeded to punishment: or, whether he should not rather inquire of the damsel herself, how she had been brought thither. Supposing, also, that she might be the wife or daughter of some one whom he would not have disgraced in that public manner, he thought it best to see first who she was, and then come to some resolution. So stepping very softly to the cell, he went in, and locked the door after him. The girl, on seeing him, was in great confusion, and fell a weeping; whilst our abbot, finding her to be young and handsome, was seized (old as he was) with the same desires as the young monk had been, and began to reason thus with himself: "Why should I not take a little pleasure when I may have it? for of plague and trouble I know enough every day. She is handsome, and nobody can ever know it. If I can persuade her, I see no reason why I should not. 

Who will ever be the wiser? nobody; and a sin concealed is half forgiven. Such another chance may never fall in my way, and I hold it best to take what heaven sends whilst I can have it." Upon this, his original purpose being quite changed, he drew nearer to the girl, and began to comfort her, desiring her not to weep. Making some farther advances, he acquainted her, at last, with his intention; and she, who was made neither of flint nor steel, readily allowed the abbot to have his will. So after hugging and kissing her, his lordship lay down first on the monk's bed - by way of encouraging her no doubt, and in tender consideration for her youth, lest she should be overwhelmed by the weight of his dignity - and then he gently drew her down over him. 

The monk, meanwhile, who under pretence of going to the wood, had concealed himself in the dormitory, on seeing the abbot go alone to his chamber, began to have great hopes of the success of his scheme; but felt certain of it when he saw his lordship lock the door behind him. Then coming out cautiously from his hiding place, he heard and saw through a chink in the door all that passed between them. 

At last, the abbot, after he had stayed as long as he thought fit, came out, locked the door again, and returned to his chamber; and supposing the monk to be now come from the wood, he resolved to reprimand and imprison him, so that his lordship might have the girl all to himself. He sent, therefore, for the culprit, gave him a severe rebuke, and ordered him to prison. The monk answered, very readily, - "My lord abbot, I have not been so long of the Benedictine order, as to be yet acquainted with its rules in every particular: your lordship instructed me well in the observance of fasts and vigils; but never told me that monks ought to yield the pre-eminence to women, and humble themselves beneath them. However, as you have so lately set me an example, I promise, if you will forgive me, to follow it, and always to do in future as I have seen you do." The abbot being quick of apprehension, found the monk knew more than he expected; and being ashamed to punish him for a crime of which himself was known to be guilty, he pardoned him on condition of his silence. They then had the girl conveyed  privately out of the monastery, and the story goes that they afterwards found means many a time to have her in again.