5-7, Teodoro , Violante, hanged, execution, father

NOVEL VII. 

Teodoro is in love with Violante, his master's daughter; she proves with child, for which he is condemned to be hanged: when being led out to execution, he is recognised by his father, set at liberty, and afterwards marries her. 

The ladies were some time in suspense, through fear lest the two lovers should be burnt, and thanked Heaven at last to hear of their deliverance. Then the queen gave the next command to Lauretta, who began cheerfully as follows: 

When good King Guiglielmo ruled over Sicily, there lived in that island a gentleman named Amerigo, abbot of Trapani, who amongst other temporal goods, was well stored with children. Having occasion for servants, and meeting with some Genoese pirates from the Levant, who had been coasting along Armenia, and taken several children, supposing them to be Turks, he bought some, and, amongst the rest, in appearance chiefly peasants, one of a more generous aspect, called Teodoro. This boy, as he grew up, though he was treated as a servant, was educated with Amerigo's own children; and his natural disposition was so good and agreeable to his master, that he had him baptized, and called him Pietro, making him overseer of his affairs. 

Amongst Amerigo's children was a daughter, named Violante, a most beautiful young lady, who, having been kept from marrying longer than was agreeable to her, cast her eye at last upon Pietro, being charmed with his behaviour, though she was ashamed to make such a discovery. But love spared her this trouble; for he, by often looking cautiously at her, was so far captivated, that he was always uneasy unless he saw her: at the same time he was fearful lest any one should perceive it, as thinking it a sort of crime. This she soon took notice of; and, to give him a little more assurance, let him understand that it was not displeasing to her. Thus they went on together, neither venturing to speak to the other, though it was what they both desired. But whilst they thus mutually languished, fortune, as if purposely, found means to banish this bashfulness, which had hitherto been in the way. 

Amerigo had a country house about a mile from Trapani, whither his wife and daughter, together with other ladies, used to go sometimes, by way of pastime. One day when they were there, having taken Pietro along with them, it happened that the sky was overcast all at once with clouds, on which account the lady and her friends made all possible haste home again, before they should be caught in the storm. But Pietro and the young lady, being more nimble than the rest, had got considerably the start of them, as much perhaps through love, as fear of the weather; and when they were out of sight, there came such claps of thunder, attended with a violent storm of hail, that the mother and her company were glad to get into a labourer's house, whilst Pietro and the young lady, having no other place of refuge, went into an old uninhabited cottage, which had just cover enough remaining to keep them dry; and there they were obliged to stand pretty close together. This event encouraged him to open his heart, and he said, " Would to Heaven the storm would never cease, that I might continue here always in this manner! " - "I should like it," she replied, "well enough." These words brought on some little acts of fondness, which were followed by others, till at last they grew very familiar together, had their fill of pleasure, and made arrangements for the continuance of an intercourse so happily begun. 

The shower being over, they went on towards the city, waiting by the way for the mother, who having joined them, they came with her home. They had frequent meetings from that time, conducted always with great secrecy, till at length, she proved with child, which terribly alarmed them both. On this, Pietro, being in fear for his life, resolved to fly, and told her so. She replied, "If you do that, I will certainly murder myself." Pietro, then, who loved her most affectionately, said, "Why would you have me stay?" There must soon be a discovery; for your part, you will be easily forgiven, and I shall have to bear the punishment of both." 

- “Pietro,” she replied, "my crime must be known; but as for yours, be assured, unless you tell it yourself, it never shall." - "Then," quoth he, "if you promise me that, I will stay; but be sure you observe it." The young lady, who had concealed as long as possible her being with child, finding it could be kept a secret no longer, let her mother at last into the truth, entreating her protection with abundance of tears. The mother was very harsh with her, and insisted upon knowing how it happened: when she, to keep her word with Pietro, feigned a long story about it, to which the other easily gave credit, and, to keep it private, sent her away to one of their farm-houses. 

When the time of her labour was at hand, the mother, never suspecting anything of her husband's coming, it chanced that Amerigo, returning that way from hawking, thought, as he passed under the window, that he heard something of a noise and bustle above, and when he came in he inquired what was the matter? The lady told her husband, with a great deal of concern, what had happened to their daughter. But he, not quite so credulous as herself, said it was impossible that she should be with child, and not know by whom, and he insisted upon knowing it: by that means she might regain his favour, otherwise he would put her to death without the least mercy. The lady tried all she could to make him satisfied with her story, but to no purpose. He ran with his sword drawn to his daughter, who, whilst they had been in discourse together, had brought forth a boy, and said, "Either declare the father, or thou shalt die instantly." She, terrified to death, broke her promise to Pietro, and made a full discovery. He was so enraged at this, that he could scarcely forbear murdering her, till having vented something of his passion, he remounted his horse, and returned to Trapani, when, making his complaint to one Signor Currado, who was governor there for the king, of the injury Pietro had done him, he had him apprehended, and he confessed the whole affair. 

Pietro was condemned to be whipped, and afterwards hanged; and that the same hour might put an end to the lives of both the lovers and of their child, Amerigo, whose anger was not to be appeased by Pietro's death, sent a cup of poison, and a naked sword, by one of his servants, to his daughter, saying, "Go carry these two things to Violante, and tell her from me, that she must take her choice, whether to die by poison, or the sword; and if she refuse, I will have her burnt publicly as she deserves: when you have done this, take her child and dash his brains out, and then throw him to the dogs." 

The fellow, more disposed to such wickedness than to anything that was good, went readily enough about his errand. 

Pietro was whipped in pursuance of his sentence, and as he was led along to the gallows, he chanced to pass by an inn, where lodged three noblemen of Armenia, who were sent as ambassadors by their king to the pope, to treat of some weighty affairs with regard to an expedition which he was going to make. There they stayed to repose themselves after their journey, and had great honour shown them by the nobility of Trapani, and especially by Amerigo. Observing the people pass by who were leading Pietro, they went to the window to see what was the matter. Pietro stood stripped to the waist, with his hands tied behind him; when one of the ambassadors, named Fineo, an ancient person, and one of great authority, looking at him, saw a red spot on his breast, which children are sometimes born with, and immediately was put in mind of a son who had been stolen from him by some pirates, fifteen years before, ot whom he could never since learn any tidings. Judging by Pietro's looks that he must be about the same age as his lost boy, he began to suspect, from the mark, that he was the very person, and if so, he supposed he would remember his own name, and his father's, as also something of the Armenian language: therefore, being near him, he called out "Teodoro! "Hearing that, Pietro lifted up his head. Fineo then spoke to him in the Armenian language, saying, "Whence do you come, and whose son are you?" The officers who had charge of him, stopped, wit of respect to that worshipful person, and Pietro replied, "I am of Armenia, the son of one Fineo, and was brought hither by I know not whom." 

Fineo, now convinced that he was his son, came down with his friends, full of tears, and ran to embrace him among all the officers; then throwing a rich mantle over his shoulders, he desired the person who led him to wait till orders should come to take him back; which the other replied he should do very willingly. Fineo had learned the cause of his sentence, as fame had noised it everywhere. Taking his friends with him, therefore, and their retinue, he went to Currado, and said, “sir, the person whom you have condemned is no slave, he is a freeman, and my son: he is ready also to marry the woman: then please to defer the execution, till it be known whether she be willing to have him, that nothing be done contrary to law." Currado was greatly surprised, hearing that he was Fineo's son, and being ashamed of their mistake, confessed that what he required was reasonable, and sent for Amerigo, and acquainted him with these things. 

Nothing could exceed Amerigo's miserable anxiety, lest his daughter and her child should have been put to death before that time, knowing that if she was alive, everything might be fairly accommodated; therefore he sent in all haste to her, to prevent his orders being obeyed, if they were not already performed. The messenger found the servant who had carried the sword and poison, standing before her, and as she was in no haste to make her choice, he was abusing her, and would have forced her to have taken one. But hearing his master's command, he returned, and told him how it was: at which he was thoroughly satisfied, and went to Fineo to beg his pardon for what had been done, declaring that if Teodoro married his daughter he should be perfectly contented. Fineo accepted his apology, and assured him, that he should either marry her, or else the law should take its course. This being agreed, they went to Teodoro (who, though rejoiced to find his father, was yet under apprehensions of dying), and asked him if he consented. Teodoro, hearing that he had it at his option to marry his Violante, was as much rejoiced as if he had gone directly from hell to heaven, and replied that he mould esteem it as the greatest favour in the world. Then he sent to know the young lady's mind, and she hearing of what happened to Teodoro, began to receive a little comfort after all her affliction. Nothing in the world could be more pleasing to her, she said, than to be the wife of Teodoro; but yet she should always wait her father's commands, Everything being thus settled, the wedding was celebrated to the great joy of the whole city. In a little time the bride began to recover her looks, and having taken care of the infant, she went to pay her respects to Fineo, who, being returned from this embassy, received her as his daughter, with the utmost joy and respect. Soon after they embarked all together for Laiazzo, where the two lovers lived peaceably and happily together all their lives. 

[Indifferent in itself, this tale is chiefly curious as being the foundation of the plot of Beaumont and Fletcher's "Triumph of Love,” the second and best of their "Four Plays in One."] 

5-6, Gianni di Procida, King Frederick, condemned, burnt, stake

NOVEL VI. 

Gianni di Procida is discovered with a young lady, formerly his mistress, but then given to King Frederick, for which he is condemned to be burnt with her at a stake, when being known by Ruggieri dell' Oria, he escapes and marries her. 

Neifile's agreeable novel being ended, Pampinea received an order to proceed, and quickly raising her lovely countenance, she thus began: - Great, most gracious ladies, is the force of love, which often leads people to rash and perilous attempts, as you have heard set forth in divers instances, both now and heretofore, and as I shall further evince in what I am going to relate concerning an enamoured youth. 

Ischia is an island near Naples, in which lived a beautiful young lady named Restituta, daughter to a certain gentleman called Marin Bolgaro. A young gentleman of Procida, called Gianni, was in love with her, and she had the same affection for him. Not a day passed but he would go to Ischia to se: her, and frequently in the night; if he could not get a boat, he would swim over, though it was only to olease himself with a sight of her house. Whilst his love continued thus fervent, it chanced that she was walking out one summer's day on the sea-shore, and passing from one rock to another, picking up shells, she came near a grotto, where some young Sicilians, just come from Naples, were assembled together, partly for the sake of the shade, and partly for the fresh water, of which there was a cool and pleasant spring. They, seeing her by herself (whilst she was not aware of their presence), agreed to seize and carry lier away. Accordingly they surprised her, took her to their ship, although she made a great outcry, and sailed off with her. Being arrived at Calabria, a dispute arose as to which of them should have her; and, as they could not come to any agreement about her amongst themselves, it was at last thought convenient to remove all cause of dissention by making a present of her to Frederick, king of Naples, who was young, and addicted to pleasure. 1 hey took her accordingly to Palermo, and presented her to the king, who was greatly pleased with her; but being a little indisposed at that time, he had her sent to a pleasant seat built in one of his gardens, called La Cuba, to be kept there till his strength was recruited. 

The lady's abduction made a great noise all over Ischia, and so much the more as the persons concerned were unknown. But Gianni, who was more particularly interested in the affair, never expecting to hear any tidings of her there, and understanding which way the vessel had steered, got another ready, and went all along the sea-coast, from Minerva to Scalea, in Calabria, to inquire after her; and at this last place he was told, that she was carried by some Sicilian sailors to Palermo. Thither then he went, with all possible speed, and after much inquiry, he found that she was presented to the king, and kept for his purpose in La Cuba. This gave him infinite concern, and he began to despair, not only of getting her back, but even of ever seeing her more. He sent his frigate home, but being detained by his love, he resolved to stay there, as nobody knew him. As he passed pretty often in sight of the house, they chanced one day to spy each other through the window, to the intense joy of both. Seeing that the place was private, he got near enough to speak to her, and being instructed by her what course to take, if he desired to have a nearer interview, he left her for that time, taking particular notice of the situation of the place, and waiting for night. When a good part of that was spent, he returned, and clambering over the walls which seemed inaccessible, he made his way into the garden, where finding a long piece of timber, he set it against the window, and, by the help of it, got into the chamber. The lady, reflecting that she had lost her honour, of which she had before been very tenacious, and believing that she could bestow her favours on none who deserved them better, was the less scrupulous in this affair, and had left the casement open on purpose for him. She now begged earnestly of him, that he would contrive some method to get her thence, and he promised to order everything so that the next time he came he should take her away. This being agreed, be went and lay down on the bed by her. In the meantime, the king, being much smitten with her beauty, and finding himself recovered, had a mind, though it was far in the night, to go and spend some time with her. Coming, therefore, with a few servants, to the house, and going softly to the chamber where he knew she was, to his great surprise he saw Gianni and her asleep together. This provoked him to that degree, that he was on the point of putting both to death; till, reflecting that it would be base in any person, and more so in a king, to kill people unarmed and asleep, he held his hand, but resolved to make a public example of them, and burn them alive. Turning to one of his retinue, he said, "What do you think of this base woman, on whom I had fixed all my hopes?" Then he inquired if they knew the man who had the assurance to come there to commit such an outrage; but none remembered ever to have seen him before. The king upon this went away greatly disturbed, commanding that as soon as it was light they should be brought bound to Palermo, when they were to be tied back to back, and kept there till three o'clock, for everybody to see them, and then to be burnt, as they deserved. Accordingly they were seized and bound without the least remorse or pity; and being brought, as the king had ordered, to Palermo, they were tied to a stake in the great square, surrounded with faggots ready to burn them at the time appointed: whilst all the people of the city flocked to see the sight, the women greatly pitying and commending the man, the men also shewing the same regard for the i>oor woman, every one highly admiring her most extraordinary beauty. But the two lovers stood with their eyes fixed on the ground, lamenting their hard fate, and waiting every moment for their sentence to be put in execution. 

Whilst they were kept in this manner, till the time fixed upon, the news was carried to Ruggieri dell' Oria, a person of great worth and valour, who was the king's high admiral; and he coming to the place, cast his eye first upon the lady, and praised her beauty very much. He then turned to Gianni, whom he soon recognised, and asked him if he was not Gianni di Procida? Gianni lifted up his eyes, and remembering the admiral, said, "I was once that person; but now I am to be no more." The admiral then inquired what it was had brought him to this? Gianni replied, "Love and the king's displeasure." The admiral made him tell the whole story, and as he was going away, Gianni called him back, and said, "My lord, if it be possible, pray obtain one favour of his majesty for me." Ruggieri asked what that was? Gianni made answer, "I find that I am to die without delay; therefore I only beg that, as I am tied with my back to this lady, whom I have loved dearer than my own life, and am not able to see her, that we may be bound with our faces to each other, and so I may expire with the pleasure of looking upon her." Ruggieri laughed, and said, "I will take care that you shall see her to much better purpose." 

He then commanded those who had the care of the execution to respite it till farther orders, and went directly to the king. Finding him a good deal out of temper, he spared not to speak his mind to this effect: - "My liege, what have these two young people done to offend you, whom you have now ordered to be burnt?" The king told him. Ruggieri then said, "their crime may deserve it, but not from you; if mis- deeds require punishment, no less do benefits demand rewards, as well as thanks. Do you know who they are whom you have sentenced to be burnt?" The king answered, "No." -"Then," said he, "I will tell you, that you may see how unwisely you suffer yourself to be transported with passion. The young man is son to Landolfo, the brother of Gianni di Procida, by whose means you are lord of Sicily. The lady is daughter to Marin Bolgaro, whose influence it was that secured your dominion over Ischia. Besides, they have long loved each other; and it was this, and no disrespect to your highness, that put them upon committing the crime, if crime it may be called, for which you are going to make them suffer death, instead of which you ought rather to give them some noble reward. 

The king hearing this, and being assured that the admiral spoke nothing but truth, not only put a stop to the proceedings, but was grieved for what he had done: he therefore ordered that the lovers should be set at liberty, and brought before him. Then hearing their whole case, he resolved to make them amends for the injury they had received; ami giving them noble apparel, and many royal presents, he had them married, as it was their mutual desire, and afterwards sent them home thoroughly satisfied with their good fortune, which they long happily enjoyed together. 

[This seems partly an historical tale; it is uninteresting in itself, but contains an incident which appears to have suggested to Tasso the punishment of Olindo and Sophronia, who are tied back to back to a stake, and are about to be burned in this posture, when rescued by the arrival and intercession of Clorinda. Like Gianni di Procida, Olindo cries out in the crisis of his fate: 

"Ed oh mia morte avventurosa appieno, 

Oh fortunati miei dolci martiri, 

S'impetrero che giunto seno a seno 

L'anima mia ne la tua bocca io spiri! 

E venendo tu meco a un tempo meno 

In me fuor mandi gli ultimi sospiri." - Gerus, Lib.,c. 2.] 

5-5, Guidotto da Cremona, Giacomino da Pavia.

NOVEL V.

Guidotto da Cremona dying, left a daughter to the care of Giacomino da Pavia. Giannole di Severino and Minghino di Mingole are both in love with her, and fight on her account, when she is found to be Giannole's sister, and is married to Minghino. 

The ladies laughed, as if they would never give over, at the story of the nightingale. As soon as their merriment was a little abated, the queen turned to Filostrato, and said, "If you gave us concern with your subject of yesterday, you have made ample amends by your last story; therefore you shall hear no more from us on that score." She then turned to Neifile, who began in this manner: - As Filostrato lays his scene in Romagna, I intend to have my novel also from that quarter. 

In the city of Fano dwelt two Lombards, one named Guidotto da Cremona, and the other Giacomino da Pavia, both advanced in years, and men who had lived as soldiers all their days. Guidotto, being at the point of death, and having no son, nor any friend in whom he put greater confidence than in Giacomino, after settling all his affairs, he left to his care a daughter of about ten years of age, with the management of his whole substance. In the meantime, the city of Faenza, which had long been embroiled in wars and confusion, being now brought into a more flourishing state, and every one that pleased having leave to return; it chanced that Giacomino, who had formerly lived there, and liked the place, went back with all his effects, carrying with him this young lady, whom he loved and treated as his own child, and who, as she grew up, became the most celebrated beauty in the whole city, and as accomplished in all respects as she was fair. Accordingly she began to be admired by divers young gentlemen; but two especially, of equal fortunes, were so much in love, than an utter hatred commenced between them for her sake; one was called Giannole di Severino, and the other Minghino di Mingole. Either of these gentlemen would gladly have married her, she being now fifteen; but, finding themselves rejected by her friends, they resolved to try other means of obtaining her. 

Giacomino had in his house an old maid-servant, and a man called Crivello, a facetious, as well as an honest person, with whom Giannole was acquainted, and to whom he made known his love, offering at the same time a great reward, if; by his assistance, he should in any way obtain his desire. Said Crivello, "The only thing I can do for you in this matter is to bring you where she is when my master is gone out to sup some where; for were I to put in a word for you, she would never give me the hearing; if you like this, I dare promise you so far, afterwards you may do what you think most proper." Giannole told him, he desired no more. On the other part Minghino made his court to the maid, who had delivered several messages to the lady in his favour, and given her a good opinion of him: she had also undertaken to introduce him the first evening that Giacomino happened to be abroad. Soon after this it happened that Giacomino was invited out by Crivello's contrivance, who immediately gave notice to Giannole, and arranged with him that he should come, upon a certain signal being given, when he should find the door open. In like manner the maid, being unacquainted with this, informed Minghino of the same thing, adding, that, upon observing a certain token, he should then come into the house. 

In the evening the two lovers, knowing nothing of one another's intention, but yet each jealous of his rival, came with some friends armed for their greater security. Minghino waited at a friend's in the neighbourhood to watch for the sign, whilst Giannole, with his people, stood a little distance from the house. Meanwhile, Crivello and the maid were each contriving how to send the other out of the way. 

"Why do you not go to bed?'said he, "what are you doing about the house?" "Why do not you go to your master?" she retorted. "You have had your supper. What do you stay for, then?"But neither of them would budge. At last Crivello, knowing the time to be come that he had appointed, said to himself, "What need I care for this woman? 

If she will not hold her tongue, I will find a way to make her." Giving the signal, then, he went to open the door, when Giannole, with two of his companions, immediately rushed in, and finding the lady in the hall, they seized, and were going to carry her off: she, however, defended herself as well as she could, crying out loudly, as did also the maid. Minghino, perceiving this, ran thither with his party, and seeing them bear her away, they drew their swords, and called out aloud, "Traitors, ye are all dead men; it shall never be so. What violence is this?"And with these words, they fell pell-mell upon them. The neighbours also were soon up in arms, and blaming such proceedings, took part with Minghino. After a long skirmish, Minghino took the lady away from Giannole, and brought her back to Giacomino's house. Nor was the fray at an end till the city officers came, and seized many of the persons concerned, and amongst the rest Minghino, Giannole, and Crivello, and carried them to prison. 

As soon as things were a little quieted, and Giacomino re- turned, he became very uneasy at what had happened, till hearing that his ward was not in fault, he was better satisfied; but resolved, for fear of the like accidents in future, to marry her as soon as possible. In the morning the parents of both the young men having heard the truth of the story, and being sensible of the evil which might ensue to their sons, who were in custody, should Giacomino proceed rigorously against them, they came to him, and entreated him not to regard so much the injury which he had received from the little indiscretion of the young men, as the esteem and friendship which, they hoped, he bore towards themselves, who now requested this favour at his hands; submitting themselves, and the youths also who had committed the offence, to make any satisfaction he should insist upon. Giacomino, who had seen much of the world, and was a person of understanding, answered in few words, - "Gentlemen, were I in my own country, as I am now in yours, I hold myself so much your friend, that I should do this or any thing else to oblige you; but in this respect I am the more ready to do it, as the offence is now committed against yourselves. For this lady is not, as many may think, either of Cremona or Pavia, but of Faenza; although neither myself, nor she, nor yet the person who bequeathed her to me, knew whose daughter she was; everything then shall be done according to your desire." 

The honest men hearing that she was of Faenza, began to wonder; and after thanking him for his gracious reply, they desired he would be so kind as to tell them in what manner she came into his hands, and how he knew that she was of Faenza. He replied, "Guidotto da Cremona was my very good friend and companion, and as he lay upon his death-bed, he told me, that when this city was taken by the Emperor Frederick, and given to be pillaged by the soldiers, he and some others went into a house full of rich booty, which was forsaken by the owners, only this girl, who seemed then but two years old, was left behind, and she seeing him go up stairs, called "Papa! "for which reason he took pity on her, and brought her away, with everything that was of value in the house, to Fano. On his death-bed there, he left her in charge to me, desiring, when she should be of age, that I would bestow her in marriage, and give what was her own, by way of fortune. Since she has been grown up, however, I have met with nobody that I thought a fit match for her, otherwise I would willingly dispose of her, lest the like accident should happen again, as befell us last night." 

At this time there was present one Gulielmino da Medicini, who was with Guidotto in that expedition, and knew very well whose house it was that he had plundered, and seeing that person in the company, he accosted him, and said, "Bernarbuccio, do you hear what Giacomino has been talking of?" - "Yes," he replied, "and I am now thinking about it; for in that confusion I remember to have lost a daughter about the same age that he speaks of." - "Then," said Gulielmino, "it is certainly the same; for I was there at that time, and heard Guidotto relate how he plundered such a house, when I knew it must be yours: see, therefore, if you can call to mind any mark that she had, whereby you may know her, for she is plainly your daughter." He then remembered that she had a scar like a cross under her left ear, and he desired Giacomino to take him to his house, that he might convince himself by seeing her. Accordingly, he brought him thither very willingly, when the very first sight of her put him in mind of her mother; but not regarding that, he told Giacomino, that he should take it as a favour if he might turn aside the hair from her left ear; which being permitted, he found the same mark, and was convinced that she was his daughter: he then said to Giacomino, "Brother, this is my daughter; it was my house that Guidotto pillaged, when this child was forgotten by her mother, in our great hurry, and we supposed that she was burnt along with the house." The lady hearing this, and seeing him to be a person of gravity, moved also perhaps by a secret instinct, she easily gave credit to it, and both of them burst into tears. Bemarbuccio then sent for her mother, and her other relations, and after relating what had happened, he carried her home, to the great joy of them all, as well as to the satisfaction of Giacomino; whilst the governor of the city, who was a worthy man, knowing that Giannole, whom he had in custody, was son to Bernarbuccio, and the lady's own brother, resolved to overlook the crime he had committed. Conversing then with Bemarbuccio and Giacomino about it, he undertook to make peace between Giannole and Minghino, to whom, by the consent of all parties, he gave her to wife, and set all the other people at liberty. Minghino then made a most sumptuous wedding, and carried his bride home in great state where they lived happily together for a long course of years. 

[This story is related by Tonducci, in his "History of Faenza," and had been previously told in an old Latin chronicle.]