8-4, provost, church, Fiesole, Ciutazza

NOVEL IV. 

The provost of the church of Fiesole is in love with a lady who has no liking to him, and he, thinking that he is in bed with her, is all the time with her maid, and her brothers bring the bishop thither to witness it. 

Eliza's novel was ended, when the queen, without delay, turned to Emilia, who began in this manner: - It will appear from our preceding novels, that priests, friars, and the rest of the clergy, have contributed their full share to our diversion: but as so much can hardly be said, but something may be added, I shall, therefore, tell you a story of a certain provost, who had a mind to make a lady love him, whether she would or not, and who was accordingly treated by her as he deserved. 

Fiesole, the summit whereof you may descry from this place, was once a great and ancient city, and, though now in ruins, had always its bishop, and so it has still. Near the cathedral, in a little house of her own, a widow lady, named Ricarda, resided for the greatest part of the year, with two of her brothers, both very worthy gentlemen. Now, as she went constantly to church, it happened that the provost fell so much in love with her, that he was never easy but in her company; and in process of time he had the assurance to speak to her, entreating her to regard him with the same tender feelings he entertained for her. This provost was somewhat ancient, but yet of a juvenile disposition: he was so proud also and haughty, and did everything with so ill a grace, that he was disagreeable to all the world. The lady, in particular, was so far from loving him that she hated him worse than the megrims; wherefore, she very prudently replied, “sir, I am much obliged to you for your gracious assurance that you love me, but such love as may and ought to subsist between us should never have anything disreputable in it. You are my spiritual father, a priest also, and in years; all which considerations should inspire you with different sentiments: on the other hand, I am no girl, being, as you see, in my widowhood, and, therefore, more discretion will be expected from me; for which reason I must beg your pardon, being resolved neither to love you nor be loved by you, in the way you propose." The provost, no way daunted by one denial, ceased not his solicitations, as well by letters as by word of mouth, every time he saw her at church; till growing weary of his impertinence, she resolved to rid herself of him in such a manner as he deserved, since she saw there was no other way; but yet she would do nothing without first consulting her brothers. Letting them know, therefore, the provost's design upon her, and what she meant to do, and having free leave from them, she went in a few days to church as usual. 

When the provost saw her come in, he went familiarly to meet her, and she receiving him with an open countenance, walked purposely apart with him, and heaving a deep sigh, said, "I have often heard, sir, that there is no fort so strong but it may be taken, which I now find to be my own case, for you have so beset me with complaisance and love, that I have been forced to break my resolution, and am now dis- posed to be at your service." He replied, with a great deal of joy, "Madam, I hold myself much obliged to you, and, to tell you the truth, I have often wondered how you could hold out so long, especially as I have never met with anything like it before. Nay, I have said, that if women were made of silver, they would not be worth a farthing, because there is none of them would be able to stand the test. But tell me, when can we be together?" She replied, “sweet sir, it may be whenever you please, as I have no husband to inquire after me at nights; but I cannot think of a place." - "How so? why not in your own house?" - "sir," she made answer, "you know I have two brothers, who have company most evenings, and our house is very small, so that it is impossible for you to come there, unless you could submit to be like a dumb person, and in the dark also: if you will consent to that it may be done, because they never come into my chamber; but yet theirs is so near to mine that the least whisper is soon heard." - "Madam," quoth he, "never mind it for one or two nights,, till I can think of some more convenient place." - "Just as you please, sir , but I beg of you that it may be a secret." -"Madam, make no doubt of that: but, if possible, let it be this evening." - "With all my heart," said she; and directing him how and when he was to come, she left him, and went home. 

Now, the lady had a maid not over young, and the ugliest creature that ever was born; for she had a flat nose, a wry mouth, great thick lips, long black teeth, sore eyes, with a green and yellow complexion, like a mulatto; besides all this, she was both lame and crooked, and her name was Ciuta, but, having such a miserable countenance of her own, she was called, by way of derision, Ciutazza (i. e. Trull); but with all her ugliness she was not without a spice of roguish humour. This maid the widow called to her, and said, "Ciutazza, if thou wilt do a little job for me, I will give thee a new gown." - " Madam," quoth she, "give it me, and I will go through fire and water to serve you." - "I mean," said the lady, "to have thee sleep with a man this night in my bed; caress him, and make much of him, but be sure not to speak a word, for fear my brothers should hear thee in the next room; and in the morning thou shalt have the gown." 

- "To oblige you, Madam," said Ciutazza, "I would sleep with half a dozen." And so in the evening the provost came, according to agreement, whilst the lady's brothers were in their own room, as she had directed, where they took care that he should hear them; and the provost went silently into her chamber in the dark, as did also Ciutazza, and to bed they went. 

As soon as this was done, the lady told her brothers, and left them to do the rest, as they had before resolved. Accordingly they went secretly to the piazza, when fortune was more favourable to their design than they could have expected, for they met the bishop coming to their house to pay them a visit. They turned back with him, and as it was in the summer they showed him into a little court, lit up with flambeaux. There, as they sat together over some choice wine, one of the young gentlemen said, "My lord, since you have so kindly deigned, of your own accord, to visit our little dwelling, to which we were going to invite you, we beg you would please to see a curiosity which we have ready to show you." The bishop consented, and one of them, taking a light, led the way, followed by the bishop and all the rest, into the chamber where the provost and Ciutazza were in bed, when they found them asleep in each other's arms. The provost awoke upon this, ashamed and frightened to death, and hid his head under the bed-clothes, whilst the bishop reprimanded him severely, and made him put his head out, that he might see whom he had got in bed with him. Then indeed, finding how the lady had served him, and being sensible of the utter shame he had incurred, the provost was the most miserable man alive. Having put on his clothes again, by the bishop's order, he was sent under guard to his own house, to undergo a penance equal to his crime. The bishop then desired to know how the aflair had happened, and they related every particular, on which he highly commended both the lady and her brothers, who, rather than imbrue their hands in a clergyman's blood, had dealt with him according to his merits, in a different manner. He ordered him, therefore, a penance of forty days, but love and disdain made him mourn nine days more; and, for a long time after, he could never go along the street, but the boys would point at him, and say, "There goes the priest that lay with Ciutazza;" which was such a mortification, that he became almost distracted. Thus the good and prudent lady freed herself from the provost's importunities, and Ciutazza got a new gown and a night's diversion. 

8-3, Calandrino, Bruno, Buffalmacco, Mugnone, Heliotrope

NOVEL III. 

Calandrino, Bruno, and Buffalmacco go to Mugnone, to look for the Heliotrope; and Calandrino returns laden with stones, supposing that he has found it. Upon this his wife scolds him, and he beats her for it; and then tells his companions what they knew better than himself. 

The ladies laughed immoderately at Pamfilo's novel, when the queen turned to Eliza, who began in this manner: - I do not know whether I shall be able to divert you as much with my short novel, though it be true as well as comical; but yet I will try. 

In our city, abounding always with people of different tempers and nations, there dwelt, not long since, a painter, called Calandrino, a simple sort of man, and a great original. 

He was almost always in company with two of the same profession, the one named Bruno, and the other Buffalmacco, both facetious and merry persons, but shrewd and wary enough; and they liked to be with this man on account of his oddities. There lived also in the same city, a young man called Maso del Saggio, one of the cleverest wags in the world, who, hearing much of Calandrino's simplicity, longed to divert himself at his expense, by some monstrous hoax. Finding him by chance one day in St. John's church, and observing him very intent on examining the carved work and painting of the Tabernacle, which was just put over the high altar, he thought he had now such an opportunity as he wanted. Acquainting one of his friends with his intentions, they came near to the place where Calandrino was sitting by himself, and pretending not to see him, began to converse together upon the virtues of different stones, whereof Maso discoursed as weightily as though he had been a professed lapidary. Calandrino soon began to listen, and finding that their conversation was not of a private nature, he got up and joined them. This was what they wanted; and as he was going on with his discourse. Calandrino asked him where these stones were to be found? Maso replied, "The greatest part are to be met with in Berlinzone, a city of the Baschi, in a canton called Bengodi, where they tie the vines with sausages, and you may buy a goose for a penny, and have a gosling into the bargain. There is also a mountain there of grated Parmesan cheese, and people upon it who do nothing else but make cheese-cakes and mackaroons, which they boil in capon-broth, and keep constantly throwing down, and those that can catch most have most: and there is a river too of the best Malmsey wine that ever was tasted, without one drop of water." - “surely," says Calandrino, "that must be a fine country indeed! what becomes of the capons after they are boiled?" - "O," quoth the other, "the Baschi there eat them all." - "And were you ever there?'said Calandrino. "Was I ever there, do you say? If I have been there once, I have been a thousand times." - "And how many miles is it off?" -"Many thousands." -"Then," said Calandrino, "it is farther off than the Abruzzi." - "A trifle." Calandrino, observing that Maso had told all this without changing countenance, or so much as a smile, received it for gospel, and said, "It is too long a journey, or else I should like to go and scramble for those mackaroons, and help myself to sausages. But tell me, pray, are there none of the precious stones you were speaking of in those countries?" Maso replied, "Two there are, which are found to be of great virtue: one of these, which comes from Montisci, they make into mill-stones, which will grind flour of themselves; whence they have a saying, That grace comes from God, and mill-stones from Montisci. Such plenty there is of them, and yet they are as lightly esteemed among us, as emeralds are there, of which they have whole mountains, bigger than Monte Morello, that shine gloriously all night long. Now, these mill-stones they set in rings, and send to the Sultan; who gives them, in return, whatever they ask for them. The other stone is what we lapidaries call the Heliotrope, which renders invisible those who have it about them." - "That," said Calandrino, "is a rare virtue indeed! But where is this stone to be found?" - "It is usually met with upon our plains of Mugnone." - "Of what size and colour is it?" - "They are of different sizes, some large, some small," said Maso, "but all of a blackish hue." 

Calandrino took care to remember all he had heard, and pretending to have other business, he went away with a design of going to seek for this stone; but first he had a mind to consult his two dear friends, Bruno and Buffalmacco, and he spent all that morning in seeking after them. Hearing at last that they were at work in the monastery at Faenza, he ran thither, and calling them aside, he said to them: "Comrades, if you will believe me, we have it now in our power to be the richest people in all Florence: for I am informed, by a very credible person, that there is a stone in Mugnone, which makes those that carry it about them invisible; therefore I wish that we should go and look for it without delay, before any one else finds it. We shall certainly meet with it, for I know it very well; and when we have it, what else have we to do but put it in our pockets, and go to the bankers' shops and carry away what money we please? Nobody will see us, and we shall grow rich all at once, without having to smear walls all day just as snails do." Bruno and Buffalmacco were ready to burst with laughter; affecting, however, to marvel greatly at what they had heard, they highly commended their friend's wisdom. Buffalmacco then asked him what was the name of that wonderful stone? 

Calandrino, having no great memory, had forgot that;" "But what have we to do with names," he said, “so long as we know the virtues of things? I think we should go and look for it immediately." - "But," quoth Bruno, "what sort of stone is it?" - "They are of all sizes, but generally black; therefore I am of opinion that we should pick up all the black stones we see till we meet with the true one: so let us lose no time." - “stay a bit," quoth Bruno; then turning to Buffalmacco, "Calandrino speaks very sensibly," said he; "but yet I do not think this jbl fit time, for the sun is now very hot, and shines with such lustre, that those stones may appear whiteish at present, which are black of a morning: besides, this is a working-day, and many people are now abroad, who, seeing us employed in that manner, may guess at our business, and perhaps get the stone before us, and we lose all our labour. We had better, I think, go about it in the morning when we can more clearly distinguish colours: and on a holiday, because then no one will see us." Buffalmacco was decidedly of the same opinion; Calandrino acquiesced; and so it was agreed that they should all three go out on Sunday morning; and, in the meantime, Calandrino begged above all things that they would speak of the matter to no one, because it had been told him as a secret. At the same time he let them know what he had heard of the country of Bengodi, swearing that every word was truth. As soon as he was gone, they agreed, between themselves, what to do. As for Calandrino, he was on thorns till Sunday came, when he rose at day-break, and called upon them; and going through St. Gallo's gate, they went into the plains of Mugnone, and began to look for the marvellous stone. Now Calandrino stole along before the other two, skipping from one place to another, where he saw anything of a black stone, and putting them all into his pockets. And whilst his companions were picking up here and there one, he had filled his pockets, bosom, and coat-skirts, which he had tucked up for that purpose with his belt. Seeing him thus laden, and it being now dinner-time, one of them said to the other, just as had been previously concerted between them, "Where is Calandrino?" 

- "I do not know, but he was here just now." "- "Here or there, I warrant he is gone home to his dinner, And has left us here upon a fool's errand." - "We are rightly served for being such fools as to believe him. Who but ourselves could ever have thought of finding such sort of stones here?" Calandrino, hearing what passed between them, took it for granted that he had the true stone, and so was invisible: and being overjoyed at his good luck, he resolved to go home without speaking a word, leaving them to follow if they would. Buffalmacco, perceiving his intent, said to Bruno, “What shall we do? Why not go home, as he has done." Bruno replied, "What should we stay any longer for? 

But I vow to God, Calandrino shall put no more tricks upon me. If he was as near me now as he has been all this morning, I would give him such a knock on the leg with this pebble, that he should have cause to remember it;" and as he was speaking the words, he let fly at him. Calandrino cut a caper, and clapped his hands to his leg, but never said a word, and got along as fast as he could. Buffalmacco took up another stone and said, "And I would touch him up on the back with this;" and so they kept pelting him all the way to the gate of St. Gallo, where, throwing down the rest of their stones, they let the guards into the secret, who humoured the thing, and let Calandrino pass as if they had not seen him. So he went on, without stopping, to his own house, which was near to the mills; and fortune was so favourable to this joke of theirs, that nobody said a word to him all through the city: and indeed he saw but few persons, because they were mostly at dinner. 

Coming thus loaded home, he met his wife at the top of the stairs; and she being provoked at his long stay, fell upon him in a violent manner, saying, "The devil sure has possessed the man, that he will never come home till everybody has dined." Hearing this, and being sensible that he was now seen, he roared out in wrath and vexation, "Oh! thou wicked woman, art thou there? Thou hast undone me; but I will be revenged on thee for it." And, throwing down all his stones, he ran violently at her, and beat her most unmercifully. In the meantime his two friends, after they had laughed a little with the guards at the gate, followed him, at a distance, to his house; and on coming to the door, heard him beating and abusing his wife. Making believe as if they were just come back, they called aloud to him, whilst he, all in a heat, and wean", looked out of the window, and desired them to come up: this they did, seemingly much out of temper, and seeing the stairs covered with stones, and the wife beaten and bruised, and crying piteously in one corner of the room, and Calandrino in another, all unbuttoned, and panting like a man quite spent, they said, "Why, how now, Calandrino! Are you going to build, that you make all this preparation? And you. Madam, how comes it to pass that you are so misused." But Calandrino, quite fatigued, and vexed also for his supposed loss, could not muster breath enough to make them any answer. Buffalmacco therefore began again, "Calandrino," said he, "if you were angry with any other person, you ought not to have made a jest of us, as you have done, in leaving us yonder like a couple of fools; where you carried us to seek for a precious stone, and then went away without saying a word: but be assured you shall serve us so no more." "My friends," replied Calandrino, after much ado, "do not be in a passion; the case is different from what you imagine. Indeed I found the stone; and observe, I pray, whether it was not so. When you inquired after me the first time, I was then close to you; and as you were coming away without seeing me, I then walked before you." He then repeated to them everything that they had said and done on the way, and showed the bruises on his back and legs; after which he went on to say, "And as I was coming through the gate, laden with these stones, the guards let me pass unmolested, though you know what a fuss they always make, and how they examine everything. Besides, I met with divers of my friends in the street, who are continually teazing me to go in and drink with them, but not one of them said a word, because they never saw me. At last, when I came home, I met with this devil of a woman here, who straightway saw me, because women, you know, make everything lose its virtue; and so I, who was on the point of being the happiest man in Florence, am now the most unfortunate; and it was upon that account that I beat her as long as I could lift my hands, and I could tear her to pieces for it. A curse upon the hour I first saw her, and when she came into this house." During this narration Buffalmacco and Bruno seemed to wonder very much, and frequently corroborated what Calandrino said, though they were fit to die with laughing. But when he was going to beat his wife a second time, they interposed, telling him, that she was not the person to blame in the case, but himself, for he should have given her notice to keep out of the way all that day; and that his disappointment was owing either to his ill-fortune, or else it was a judgment upon him for deceiving his friends; for after he knew that he had found the stone, he ought to have told them of it. At last, with great difficulty, they made peace between him and his poor wife, and left him still sad and moody, with his house full of stones. 

[This story is taken, with little variation, from the Fabliau "De Pietre et Alison," of the Trouveur Guillaume le Normand. (Le Grand, iv, 297.) It is also the forty-seventh of the second part of Bandello.] 

8-2, The parson of Varlungo, cloak, mortar

NOVEL II. 

The parson of Varlungo receives favours from a woman of his parish, and leaves his cloak in pawn. He afterwards borrows a mortar of her, which he returns, and demands his cloak, which he says he left only as a token. She mutinies, but is forced by her husband to send it. 

They all thought that Gulfardo had served the sordid Milanese lady very justly, when the queen turned with a smile towards Parafilo, and desired him to follow: - I mean, said 

he, to relate a short story, touching those people who are continually doing us injuries, without our being able to come at them, in the same manner at least as we are affected; I mean the priests, who set up a general crusade against our wives, thinking when once they bring any of them under their subjection, that they have done as meritorious an action as if they led the sultan captive from Alexandria to Avignon. Now we of the laity cannot return the like to them, though we should do well to revenge what is so done to our wives, with as good a will, upon their mothers, sisters, and other relations. I will tell you, therefore, of a country amour, more diverting, in the conclusion especially, than long, by which you may reap the benefit of learning that priests are not to be believed in all things. 

At Varlungo, a village not far from this place, lived a young healthful priest, who, though not very expert at reading, yet was he used to hold forth under an elm-tree every Sunday, regaling the people there with many good and holy discourses. And as to the women, no priest ever gave them better attendance; for he was daily carrying them presents of cake, holy-water, and candle ends, when he would also give them his blessing. Amongst all his parishioners, none pleased him so well as a good woman, called Belcolore, wife to a certain husbandman, whose name was Bentivegna del Mazzo: she in truth, was a tight, handsome brunette, and could sing, and play upon the virginals, or lead up a dance as well as any lass in the country; so that our priest was out of his wits about her. All day long would he go poking about to get a sight of her, and on Sunday, when she was at prayers, he would quaver out his Kyries and his Sanctuses, like a jackass braying, to let her see that he was a master of music; but if she happened not to be there, he made no such stir; and yet he managed so, that neither the husband nor any of the neighbours suspected him. The better to gain her favour, he was every now and then sending her presents: one day a bunch of leeks, the finest in the country, out of his own garden, planted by his own hands; another time a basket of peas, and onions or scallions, as the season served. And, when he saw an opportunity, he would give her a look out of the comer of his eye, whilst she would generally pass on, making believe that she never noticed his ogling; so that, hitherto, it was all labour lost. 

Now one day it happened, as the priest was dawdling about, that he met the husband, driving a loaded ass before him, when he accosted him, and asked whither he was going? "Why truly, father," he replied, "I am going about some business to the city, and I carry these things as a present to one Signor Bonaccori da Ginestreto, for him to enter an appearance for me, and to stand my friend in a cause that I have before the judge." The priest seemed pleased, and said, "son, you are in the right: go, you have my blessing, and make haste home; and if you should see Lapuccio or Naldino, do not forget to tell them to bring home my leathern straps." The honest man promised to deliver his message, and so went on towards Florence, whilst the priest thought this a fit opportunity to go to Belcolore, and try his luck with her. Accordingly, he made no stop till he came to the house, and stepping in, he called out, "God bless all here; who is within?" - Belcolore was gone up stairs, and when she heard him she said, "You are welcome, sir; but what are you doing abroad in the very heat of the day?" The priest replied, "I am come to spend a little time with you, finding that your husband has gone into the city." She then came and sat down, and began to pick some cole-seed, which her husband had just been threshing, when he said, "Ah, Belcolore! must I always die for you in this manner?" She laughed and replied, "Pray, what have I done to you ?" - "Nothing to me; but you will not let me do what I should like to you." - "Oh, go along with you! do priests do such things?" - "Why not, as well as other people?" - "Well, but what will you give me? for I know you are all as stingy as the devil." - "Why, ask what you will; a pair of shoes, or a top-knot, or a girdle, or anything eise that you like." - "Father, I want none of these things; but, if you love me as you say, do one thing for me, and I will consent." - 'say what it is, and be assured that I will do it most willingly." - "On Saturday, then," she said, "I must go to Florence to carry some yarn home, which I have spun, and to get my wheel mended; and if you will lend me five pounds, which I know you have, I can redeem from the broker my best gown and petticoat, which I have been forced to pawn, and for want of which I am not able to appear upon any saint's day, and you will then find me always ready to oblige you." - " As I hope for a good harvest," quoth the priest, "I have not so much about me, but I will take care you shall have it before that time." - "I know you all," she replied, "to be good promisers, and that you never think of performing what you say. No, I will make no such bargains. 

If you have not the money in your pocket, go and fetch it." - "Alas! "quoth the priest, "never send me home at this time; you see there is nobody here now; perhaps, when I return there may; so that we can never have a better opportunity." - "Very well," said she, "you know my resolution, either bring the money, or else go about your business." 

The priest perceiving that her intention was not to comply without a salvum me fac, whereas he was for having it sine custodia", said, "Well, if you will not take my word, see I leave you this cloak as a pledge." - "Your cloak!" She said, looking up; "pray what is it worth?" - " Worth!" answered the priest; "I would have you to know that it is made of a fine serge; nay, there are some of our people that call it a broad cloth; I bought it fifteen days ago only, of Lotto, the fripperer, and it cost me seven pounds; and Buglietto tells me, whom you will allow to be a judge, that I got five shillings at least by the bargain." - "Ay! did it stand you in so much?'said she; "I could never have thought it; but give it me first." He did so, and when she had locked it up, she turned to him, and said, "Let us go into the bam, no one ever comes there. So said, so done, and master Parson got what he had bargained for. After this he had to go home in his cassock, as if he had been celebrating a wedding, when he began to repent of what he had done; and, considering with himself that all his vails and offerings for the whole year would not amount to five pounds, he fell to contriving how to get his cloak hack for nothing, and at last his cunning supplied him with the following stratagem. 

The next day being holiday, he sent a boy to Belcolore, desiring her to lend him her stone mortar, as he had two neighbours to dine with him, and he intended to make them some green sauce. She sent it, and, about dinner-time, when he expected that she and her husband would be seated together, he called his clerk, and said, "Go, take this mortar to Belcolore, and tell her, that your master gives her many thanks, and desires she would send the cloak which the boy left by way of token." The clerk took the mortar, found the husband and wife just finishing their dinner, and delivered his message. When he asked for the cloak, she was going to make a reply; but the husband put on an angry look, and said, "How came you to take any token from our priest? I have a good mind to box your ears for doing so. Return it, I say, directly, and let him want what he will of ours, I charge you never to say him nay." Upon this she went grumbling to the press for the cloak, and giving it to the clerk, she said, "Tell your master, the priest, that so help me God, he shall mix no more sauce in my mortar." 

The clerk delivered it with those very words, upon which the priest laughed, and said, "When you see her, you may tell her, if she will not lend me her mortar, I will not lend her my pestle, and so we are even." Now the husband imagined that she had spoken in that manner, because he had just been quarreling with her, for which reason he was under no concern about it. But she continued so provoked, that she would never speak to the priest from that time till the season of the vintage, when, after she had long threatened to send him to the devil, he found means to pacify her at last, with some new wine and chestnuts, and instead of the five pounds, he tuned her virginals for her, and made her a song, which so contented her, that they became as good friends as ever. 

[This tale was probably suggested to Boccaccio by the first part of the Fabliau "Du Pretre et de la Dame," though the imitation is not nearly so close as in most of the other tales in which our author has followed the Trouvers. In the Fabliau, a priest, while on an amatory visit to the wife of a burgess, is nearly surprised by the unsuspected coming of the husband. His mistress has just time to conceal him in a great basket, which stood in an adjacent apartment; but in the hurry he led his cloak behind him. He had not long remained in the basket before it occurred to him that it might be applied to better purposes than concealment; taking it in his arms, he returned boldly to the room where the burgess was sitting with his wife, and requested, as he had now brought back the basket, ot which he had the loan, that the cloak which he had left in pawn should be restored to him. (Fabliaux par Barbazan et Méon, iv. 181.)]