6-9, Guido Cavalcanti, reprimands, folly, Florentine gentlemen

NOVEL IX. 

Guido Cavalcanti neatly reprimands the folly of some Florentine gentlemen, who came unawares upon him. 

The queen, perceiving that Emilia had finished her novel, and that only herself remained, excepting him whose privilege it was to speak last, began as follows: - Though you have robbed me of two of my novels, one of which I designed should have served me today; yet have I one left behind still, which contains something in the conclusion as pertinent, perhaps, as anything that has yet been spoken. Know, then, that formerly many good customs prevailed in our city, none of which are now remaining, thanks to avarice, the attendant of our growing wealth, which has long discarded them. This, amongst others, was one; - that, in divers parts of the town, the best families in the neighbourhood would meet together, and compose a society, consisting of a certain number of persons, taking care always to admit only such as were able to bear the expense of it. Every one entertained in his turn, at which time they would show honour to divers gentlemen and strangers upon their arrival in our city, and to many of the most worthy citizens, inviting them to those assemblies: once a year, also, at least, they would be dressed all alike, and they often rode in procession through the city, when they performed their tilts, and other martial exercises, especially on the great festival days, or when the news of some great victory had reached the city. 

Amongst these societies of gentlemen, there was one, of which Signor Betto Brunelleschi was the principal, who was desirous always of procuring Guido Cavalcanti to be one of their body, and not without reason; for, besides his being one of the best logicians in the world, as well as an excellent natural philosopher (for which they had no great regard), he was a most polite, good-natured man, as well as a delightful companion, and nobody knew what belonged to a gentleman better than himself: besides this, he was very rich, and ready always to reward merit wherever he found it. But Signor Betto was never able to draw him into their assembly, which they all attributed to his speculative way of life. And, because he was said to hold some of the Epicurean doctrines, the vulgar used to report, that all this study of his was only to learn whether there was a God or not. One day he was passing from St. Michael's church, along by the Ademari to St. John's, which was his usual walk. The large marble arches which are now at St. Reparata's, were then about St. John's church, and he chanced to be amongst them, the church door being shut, when Betto and his company came riding through the square. Spurring their horses, they came up to him before he perceived them, and one of them said, "Guido, you refuse to be of our society, - but when you have found out that there is no God, what good will it have done you?" Guido, seeing himself surrounded, immediately replied, "Gentlemen, you may use me as you please in your own territories;" and, laying his hand upon one of the arches, he leaped nimbly over it, and so made his escape. They looked, like people confounded, at each other, saying, that what he had spoken was without any meaning; for that they had no more to do there than any other persons, nor Guido less than themselves. Signor Betto then turned to them, and said, "It is yourselves, gentlemen, who are void of understanding; for he has very worthily, and in few words, said the severest thing in the world to us, whether you understood it or not: consider, then, these arches are the abodes of the dead, and he calls them our territories, to show us that we, and all other people as ignorant and unlearned as ourselves, are, in comparison with him and other men of letters, worse than dead men; and, therefore, so long as we are here, we may be said to be upon our own dunghills." They now all understood what Guido meant to say, and were a good deal ashamed, and from that time forth they said nothing more to provoke him, and always looked upon Signor Betto as a very subtle and sensible gentleman.

6-8, Fresco da Celatico, Cesca, Francesca

NOVEL VIII. 

Fresco advises his niece, that if she could not endure to look at any disagreeable people, she should never behold herself. 

Filostrato's novel had put the ladies into some confusion, as appeared by their blushes, when the queen turned immediately to Emilia, and desired her to begin. She, starting up as if she had been roused out of her sleep, spoke to this effect:
- I have been so long lost in thought, that I shall now obey the queen, by relating a much shorter novel than I should have done, probably, had I more time to recollect myself. This will be concerning the foolish affectation of a certain young lady, which was very wittily reproved by her uncle, if she had had but sense enough to have taken it. 

A worthy man, named Fresco da Celatico, had a niece, called, out of fondness, Cesca, i. e, for Francesca, who, though her person was not amiss (she was no angel neither!) yet thought so highly of herself, that she was perpetually finding fault with men, women, and everything that she saw, without having the least regard to herself all the time; for by that means, she became such a disagreeable, fretful, and tiresome creature, that nothing was ever like her, and so proud withal, that, had she been of the blood royal of France, she could not have been more so. And if she walked along the street at any time, she did nothing but toss up her nose all the way, as if every one that she either saw or met was offensive to her. To omit the rest of her troublesome, ill-conditioned ways, it chanced one day that she came home, pouting extremely with pride and affectation, and sat down by her uncle; he said to her, "What is the reason, Cesca, that you come home so soon, this being a holiday? "When she, fit to die away with her airs, replied, "I have returned so early, because I could not have believed there had been such a number of frightful people, both men and women, in the country as I have met with today; there was not one that I could like. I don't believe there is any woman in the world who has such an aversion to disagreeable people as I have: it is to avoid them, therefore, that I have come so soon." Fresco, then, who could no longer brook her inordinate affectation, replied roughly to her: "Niece, if disagreeable persons displease you so much, and you are willing to be at ease, be sure you never look at yourself." She, however, as empty as a pithless cane, though she thought herself as wise as Solomon, understood her uncle's meaning no more than a goose; but said, " She would look at herself as well as other people." Thus she remained in her ignorance, and, for what I know, still continues in the same state. 

6-7, Madam Filippa, gallant, surprised, husband

NOVEL VII. 

Madam Filippa, being surprised with her gallant by her husband, is accused and tried for it, but saves herself by her quick reply, and has the laws moderated for the future. 

Scalza's argument to prove the nobility of the Baronci having made them all very merry, the queen turned to Filostrato, who began in this manner: - It is a good thing, most worthy ladies, to be able to speak well, and to the purpose; but I hold it best of all to know how to do it when need requires, as was the case with a lady of whom I am going to treat, who escaped an ignominious death by this means, as you shall hear. 

In the territory of Prato there was formerly a most severe law, which, without any distinction, condemned all such women to be burnt as were detected by their husbands in adultery. Whilst this law was in force, it chanced that a beautiful young lady, named Filippa, was surprised by her husband with her gallant, a young gentleman of the same city, in her own chamber. Rinaldo de' Pugliesi, for that was the husband's name, was so provoked at this, that he could scarcely refrain from putting them both to death, and forbore it only out of regard to his own life; but yet he resolved that the law should effect what he durst not accomplish with his own hand - the death, namely, of his wife. Having, therefore, sufficient testimony to prove the fact, he had her summoned before the court. The lady, who was of an undaunted spirit, resolved to make her appearance, contrary to the advice of her friends, choosing rather to die by a resolute confession of the truth, than abscond and live basely in exile, or, by denying the fact, show herself unworthy of the lover with whom she had this intrigue. Being brought, then, before the lord-provost, attended by a great number of friends of both sexes, and encouraged all the way to deny it, she asked him, with a firm voice and steady countenance, what he had to say to her. The provost, seeing her beauty, her noble deportment, and greatness of spirit, began to pity her, fearing lest she should confess something which would force him, for the sake of his honour to condemn her to death. Being constrained, however, to interrogate her upon the charge preferred before him, he said to her, "Madam, here is Rinaldo, your husband, who affirms that he has taken you in adultery, and insists that I pronounce sentence of death upon you, according to the law in that case; but this I cannot do, unless you yourself confess it; therefore take care what answers you make, and tell me if this accusation of his be true." The lady, without showing the least concern, replied, "My lord, it is true, that Rinaldo is my husband, and that he found me in the arms of Lazzarino, where I have been many a time, for the great love I bear him, nor will I ever deny it; but you must know, at the same time, that laws ought to be alike for all, and made with the consent of those persons whom they concern. Now, in this law of yours, it is quite otherwise; for it is binding only on us poor women, who are much better able than men to satisfy many, and moreover none of us ever consented to, or were even consulted about the making of it. I call it, therefore, a most iniquitous law. If you are disposed to take away my life for the breach of it, why of course you may; but, before you pass sentence, I entreat one little favour of you, that is, that you would ask my husband whether, at all times, and as often as he pleased, I have not yielded myself fully to his desires, without ever saying him nay." Rinaldo, without waiting to be questioned by the provost, declared at once, that the lady had never failed to respond to his wishes in that respect. "Well, then, master provost," said the lady, "if he has always had from me as much as he wanted and wished, what, I ask, was I to do with what was left? Should I throw it to the dogs? Is it not much better to gratify with it a man who loves me more than himself, than to let it be lost or spoiled?" All the principal people of the city were present to hear this process, and after laughing heartily at this humorous question, they cried out, as with one voice, "The lady says well; she is quite right!" Before they broke up, the law, by the interposition of the lord-provost, was moderated so far as to apply only to such women as wronged their husbands for thè sake of money. So Rinaldo departed from the court, covered with shame and confusion, whilst the lady, snatched as it were out of the fire, returned victorious to her own house.