Andrea de Piero, _travelling from_ Perouse _to_ Naples _to buy Horses,was (in the space of one night) surprised by three admirable accidents,out of all which hee fortunately escaped, and, with a rich Ring,returned home to his owne house._
The fift Novell.
_Comprehending, how needfull a thing it is, for a man that travellethin affaires of the World, to be provident and well advised, andcarefully to keepe himselfe from the crafty and deceitfull allurementsof Strumpets._
The precious Stones and Jewels found by _Landolpho_, maketh meeto remember (said Madam _Fiammetta_, who was next to deliver herdiscourse) a Tale, containing no lesse perils, then that reported byMadam _Lauretta_: but somewhat different from it, because the onehappened in sundry yeeres, and this other had no longer time, then thecompasse of one poore night, as instantly I will relate unto you.
As I have heard reported by many, there sometime lived in _Perouse_or _Perugia_, a young man, named _Andrea de Piero_, whose professionwas to trade about Horses, in the nature of a Horse-courser, orHorse-master, who hearing of a good Faire or Market (for his purpose)at _Naples_, did put five hundred Crownes of gold in his purse, andjourneyed thither in the company of other Horse-coursers, arrivingthere on a Sunday in the evening. According to instructions given himby his Host, he went the next day into the Horse-market, where he sawvery many Horses that he liked, cheapening their prices as he went upand downe, but could fall to no agreement; yet to manifest that he camepurposely to buy, and not as a cheapener onely, often times (like ashalow-brainde trader in the world) he shewed his purse of gold beforeall passengers, never respecting who, or what they were that observedhis follie.
It came to passe, that a young _Sicillian_ wench (very beautifull, butat commaund of whosoever would, and for small hire) passing then by,and (without his perceiving) seeing such store of gold in his purse;presently she said to her selfe: why should not all those crownes bemine, when the foole that owes them, can keepe them no closer? And soshe went on. With this young wanton there was (at the same time) anolde woman (as commonly such stuffe is alwayes so attended) seemingto be _Sicillian_ also, who so soone as shee saw _Andrea_, knew him,and, leaving her youthfull commodity, ranne to him, and embraced himvery kindly. Which when the younger Lasse perceived, without proceedingany further, she stayed, to see what would ensue thereon. _Andrea_conferring with the olde Bawde, and knowing her (but not for anysuch creature) declared himselfe very affable to her; she making himpromise, that shee would come and drinke with him at his lodging. So,breaking off further Speeches for that time, shee returned to her young_Cammerado_; and _Andrea_ went about buying his horses, still cheapninggood store, but did not buy any all that morning.
The Punke that had taken notice of _Andreaes_ purse, upon the oldewomans comming backe to her (having formerly studied, how shee mightget all the gold, or the greater part thereof) cunningly questionedwith her, what the man was, whence hee came, and the occasion of hisbusinesse there? wherein she fully informed her particularly, andin as ample manner as himselfe could have done: That shee had longtime dwelt in _Sicily_ with his Father, and afterward at _Perouse_;recounting also, at what time she came thence, and the cause which nowhad drawne him to _Naples_. The witty young housewife, being thorowlyinstructed, concerning the Parents and kindred of _Andrea_, theirnames, quality, and all other circumstances thereto leading; began toframe the foundation of her purpose thereupon, setting her resolutiondowne constantly, that the purse and gold was (already) more then halfeher owne.
Being come home to her owne house, away shee sent the olde Pandresseabout other businesse, which might hold her time long enough ofemployment, and hinder her returning to _Andrea_ according to promise,purposing, not to trust her in this serious piece of service. Callinga young crafty Girle to her, whom she had well tutoured in the likeambassages, when evening drew on, she sent her to _Andreas_ lodging,where (by good fortune) she found him sitting alone at the dore, anddemanding of him, if he knew an honest Gentleman lodging there, whosename was _Signior Andrea de Piero_; he made her answere, that himselfewas the man. Then taking him aside, shee said. Sir, there is a worthyGentlewoman of this Citie, that would gladly speake with you, if youpleased to vouchsafe her so much favour.
_Andrea_, hearing such a kinde of salutation, and from a Gentlewoman,named of worth; began to grow proud in his owne imaginations, and tomake no meane estimation of himselfe: As (undoubtedly) that he wasan hansome proper man, and of such cariage and perfections, as hadattracted the amorous eye of this Gentlewoman, and induced her to likeand love him beyond all other, _Naples_ not contayning a man of bettermerit. Whereupon he answered the Mayde, that he was ready to attendher Mistresse, desiring to know, when it should be, and where theGentlewoman would speake with him? So soone as you please Sir, repliedthe Damosell, for she tarieth your comming in her owne house.
Instantly _Andrea_ (without leaving any direction of his departurein his lodging, or when he intended to returne againe) said to theGirle: Goe before, and I will follow. This little Chamber-commodity,conducted him to her Mistresses dwelling, which was in a streetenamed _Malpertuis_, a title manifesting sufficiently the streeteshonesty: but hee, having no such knowledge thereof, neither suspectingany harme at all, but that he went to a most honest house, and to aGentlewoman of good respect; entred boldly, the Mayde going in before,and guiding him up a faire payre of stayres, which he having more thenhalfe ascended, the cunning young Queane gave a call to her Mistresse,saying; _Signior Andrea_ is come already, whereupon, she appeared atthe stayres-head, as if she had stayed there purposely to entertainehim. She was young, very beautifull, comely of person, and rich inadornements, which _Andrea_ well observing, & seeing her descend twoor three steps, with open armes to embrace him, catching fast holdabout his neck; he stood as a man confounded with admiration, and shecontained a cunning kinde of silence, even as if she were unable toutter one word, seeming hindered by extremity of joy at his presence,and to make him effectually admire her extraordinary kindnesse, havingteares plenteously at commaund, intermixed with sighes and brokenspeeches, at last, thus she spake.
_Signior Andrea_, you are the most welcom friend to me in all theworld; sealing this salutation with infinite sweet kisses and embraces:whereat (in wonderfull amazement) he being strangely transported,replied; Madame, you honour me beyond all compasse of merit. Then,taking him by the hand, shee guided him thorow a goodly Hall, into herowne Chamber, which was delicately embalmed with Roses, Orenge-flowres,and all other pleasing smelles, and a costly bed in the middest,curtained round about, very artificiall Pictures beautifying thewalles, with many other embellishments, such as those Countries areliberally stored withall. He being meerely a novice in these kinds ofwanton carriages of the World, and free from any base or degenerateconceit; firmely perswaded himselfe, that (questionlesse) shee was aLady of no meane esteeme, and he more then happy, to be thus respectedand honoured by her. They both being seated on a curious Chest at theBeds feete, teares cunningly trickling downe her cheekes, and sighesintermedled with inward sobbings, breathed forth in sad, but veryseemely manner; thus shee beganne.
I am sure _Andrea_, that you greatly marvell at me, in gracing youwith this solemne and kinde entertainment, and why I should so meltmy selfe in sighes and teares, at a man that hath no knowledge of me,or (perhaps) sildome or never heard any Speeches of me: but you shallinstantly receive from mee matter to augment your greater marvell,meeting heere with your owne sister, beyond all hope or expectation ineither of us both. But seeing that Heaven hath beene so gracious to me,to let mee see one of my brethren before I die (though gladly I wouldhave seene them all) which is some addition of comfort to me, and thatwhich (happily) thou hast never heard before, in plaine and truestmanner, I will reveale unto thee.
_Piero_, my Father and thine, dwelt long time (as thou canst not chusebut to have understood) in _Palermo_, where, through the bounty, andother gracious good parts remaining in him, he was much renowned; and(to this day) is no doubt remembred, by many of his loving friends
and well-willers. Among them that most intimately affected _Piero_,my mother (who was a Gentlewoman, and at that time a widow) diddearest of all other love him; so that forgetting the feare of herFather, brethren, yea, and her owne honour, they became so privatelyacquainted, that I was begotten, and am here now such as thou seest me.Afterward, occasions so befalling our Father, to abandon _Palermo_, andreturne to _Perouse_, he left my mother and me his little daughter,never after (for ought that I could learne) once remembring eitherher or me: so that (if he had not beene my Father) I could have muchcondemned him, in regard of his ingratitude to my Mother, and lovewhich hee ought to have shewne me as his childe, being borne of noChamber-maide, neither of a City sinner; albeit I must needes say, thatshee was blame-worthy, without any further knowledge of him (movedonely thereto by most loyal affection) to commit both her selfe, andall the wealth shee had, into his hands: but things ill done, and solong time since, are more easily controled, then amended.
Being left so young at _Palermo_, and growing (well neere) to thestature as now you see me; my mother, being wealthy, gave mee inmarriage to one of the _Gergentes_ Family, a Gentleman, and of greatrevenewes, who in his love to me and my mother, went and dwelt at_Palermo_: where falling into the _Guelphes_ faction, and making onein the enterprize with _Charles_ our King; it came to passe, that theywere discovered to _Fredericke_ King of _Arragon_, before their intentcould be put in execution, whereupon, we were enforced to flie from_Sicilie_, even when my hope stood fairely to have beene the greatestLady in all the Iland. Packing up then such few things as wee couldtake with us, few I may well call them, in regard of our wealthypossessions, both in Pallaces, Houses, and Lands, all which we wereconstrained to forgoe: we made our recourse to this City, where weefound King _Charles_ so benigne and gracious to us, that recompencingthe greater part of our losses, he bestowed Lands and Houses on ushere, beside a continuall large pension to my husband your brother inLaw, as hereafter himselfe shall better acquaint you withall. Thus cameI hither, and thus remaine here, where I am able to welcome my brother_Andrea_, thankes more to Fortune, then any friendlinesse in him: withwhich words she embraced and kissed him many times, sighing and weepingas shee did before.
_Andrea_ hearing this fable so artificially delivered, composed frompoint to point, with such likely protestations, without faltring orfailing in any one words utterance; and remembring perfectly for truth,that his Father had formerly dwelt at _Palermo_; knowing also (by somesensible feeling in himselfe) the custome of young people, who areeasily conquered by affection in their youthfull heate; seeing besidethe teares, trembling speeches, and earnest embracings of this cunningcommodity: he tooke all to be faithfully true by her thus spoken, andupon her silence, thus he replied. Lady, let it not seeme strange toyou, that your words have raised marvell in me, because (indeede) Ihad no knowledge of you, even no more then as if I had never seeneyou, never also having heard my Father to speake either of you or yourMother (for some considerations best knowne to himselfe) or if at anytime he used such language, either my youth then, or defective memorysince, hath utterly lost it. But truly, it is no little joy and comfortto me, to finde a sister here, where I had no such hope or expectation,and where also my selfe am a meere stranger. For to speake my mindfreely of you, and the perfections gracefully appearing in you, I knownot any man, of how great repute or quality soever, but you may wellbeseeme his acceptance, much rather then mine, that am but a meaneMerchant. But faire sister, I desire to be resolved in one thing, towit, by what meanes you had understanding of my being in this City?whereto readily shee returned him this answer.
Brother, a poore woman of this City, whom I employ sometimes inhoushold occasions, came to me this morning, and (having seene you)tolde me, that shee dwelt a long while with our Father, both at_Palermo_, and _Perouse_. And because I held it much better beseemingmy condition, to have you visit me in mine owne dwelling, then I tocome see you at a common Inne; I made the bolder to send for youhither. After which words, in very orderly manner, shee enquiredof his chiefest kindred and friends, calling them readily by theirproper names, according to her former instructions. Whereto _Andrea_still made her answer, confirming thereby his beliefe of her the morestrongly, and crediting whatsoever shee saide, farre better then before.
Their conference having long time continued, and the heate of theday being somewhat extraordinary, shee called for _Greeke_ wine, andbanquetting stuffe, drinking to _Andrea_; and he pledging her verycontentedly. After which, he would have returned to his lodging,because it drew neere supper time; which by no meanes shee wouldpermit, but seeming more then halfe displeased, shee saide. NowI plainely perceive brother, how little account you make of me,considering, you are with your owne Sister, who (you say) you never sawbefore, and in her owne House, whether you should alwayes resort whenyou come to this City; and would you now refuse her, to goe and sup ata common Inne. Beleeve me brother, you shall sup with me, for althoughmy Husband is now from home, to my no little discontentment: yet youshall find brother, that his wife can bid you welcome, and make yougood cheere beside.
Now was _Andrea_ so confounded with this extremity of courtesie, thathe knew not what to say, but onely thus replied. I love you as a Sisterought to be loved, and accept of your exceeding kindnesse: but if Ireturne not to my lodging, I shall wrong mine Host and his guests toomuch, because they will not sup untill I come. For that (quoth shee) wehave a present remedy, one of my servants shal goe and give warning,whereby they shall not tarry your comming. Albeit, you might doe me agreat kindnesse, to send for your friends to sup with us here, where Iassure ye they shall finde that your Sister (for your sake) will bidthem welcome, and after supper, you may all walke together to yourInne. _Andrea_ answered, that he had no such friends there, as shouldbe so burthenous to her: but seeing shee urged him so farre, he wouldstay to sup with her, and referred himselfe solely to her disposition.
Ceremonious shew was made, of sending a servant to the Inne, for notexpecting _Andreas_ presence at Supper, though no such matter wasperformed; but, after divers other discoursings, the table beingcovered, and variety of costly viands placed thereon, downe they sateto feeding, with plenty of curious Wines liberally walking about, sothat it was darke night before they arose from the table. _Andrea_then offring to take his leave, she would (by no meanes) suffer it,but tolde him that _Naples_ was a Citie of such strict Lawes andOrdinances, as admitted no night-walkers, although they were Natives,much lesse strangers, but punished them with great severity. Andtherefore, as she had formerly sent word to his Inne, that they shouldnot expect his comming to supper, the like had she done concerning hisbed, intending to give her Brother _Andrea_ one nights lodging, whichas easily she could affoord him, as she hadde done a Supper. All whichthis new-caught Woodcocke verily crediting, and that he was in companyof his owne Sister _Fiordeliza_ (for so did she cunningly stile herselfe, and in which beleefe hee was meerely deluded) he accepted themore gladly her gentle offer, and concluded to stay there all thatnight.
After supper, their conference lasted very long, purposely dilated outin length, that a great part of the night might therein be wasted:when, leaving _Andrea_ to his Chamber, and a Lad to attend, that heshold lacke nothing; she with her women went to their lodgings, andthus our brother and supposed Sister were parted. The season then beingsomewhat hot and soultry, _Andrea_ put off his hose and doublet, andbeeing in his shirt alone, layed them underneath the beds boulster, asseeming carefull of his money. But finding a provocation to the houseof Office, he demanded of the Lad, where hee might find it; who shewedhim a little doore in a corner of the Chamber, appointing him to enterthere. Safely enough he went in, but chanced to tread upon a board,which was fastened at neither ende to the joynts whereon it lay, beinga pit-fall made of purpose, to entrap any such coxecombe, as would betrained to so base a place of lodging, so that both he and the boardfell downe together into the draught; yet such being his good fortune,to receive no harme in the fall (although it was of extraordinaryheight) onely the filth of the
place, (it being over full) had fowlymyred him.
Now for your better understanding the quality of the place, and whatensued thereupon, it is not unnecessary to describe it, according toa common use observed in those parts. There was a narrow passage orentrie, as often we see reserved betweene two houses, for eithersbenefit to such a needfull place; and boards loosely lay upon thejoynts, which such as were acquainted withall, could easily avoide anyperill, in passing to or from the stoole. But our so newly createdbrother, not dreaming to find a queane to his Sister, receiving sofoule a fall into the vaulte, and knowing not how to helpe himselfe,being sorrowfull beyond measure; cryed out to the boy for light andaide, who intended not to give him any. For the crafty wag, (a meeteattendant for so honest a Mistresse) no sooner heard him to be fallen,but presently he ranne to enforme her thereof, and shee as speedilyreturned to the Chamber, where finding his cloathes under the bedshead, shee needed no instruction for search in his pockets. But havingfound the gold, which _Andrea_ indiscreetely carried alwayes about him,as thinking it could no where else be so safe: This was all shee aymedat, and for which shee had ensnared him, faigning her selfe to be of_Palermo_, and Daughter to _Piero_ of _Perouse_, so that not regardinghim any longer, but making fast the house of Office doore, there sheeleft him in that miserable taking.
Poore _Andrea_ perceiving, that his calles could get no answer from theLad; cryed out louder, but all to no purpose: when seeing into his ownesimplicity, and understanding his error, though somewhat too late, heemade such meanes constrainedly, that he got over a wall, which severedthat foule sinke from the Worlds eye; and being in the open streete,went to the doore of the House, which then he knew too well to hiscost, making loude exclaimes with rapping and knocking, but all asfruitlesse as before. Sorrowing exceedingly, and manifestly beholdinghis misfortune; Alas (quoth he) how soone have I lost a Sister, andfive hundred Crownes besides? with many other words, loude calles, andbeatings upon the doore without intermission, the neighbours findingthemselves diseased, and unable to endure such ceaselesse vexation,rose from their beds, and called to him, desiring him to be gone andlet them rest. A maide also of the same House, looking forth at thewindow, and seeming as newly raised from sleepe, called to him, saying;What noyse is that beneath? Why Virgin (answered _Andrea_) know you notme? I am _Andrea de Piero_, Brother to your Mistresse _Fiordeliza_.Thou art a drunken knave, replied the Maide, more full of drinke thenwit, goe sleepe, goe sleepe, and come againe to morrow: for I know no_Andrea de Piero_, neither hath my Mistresse any such Brother, get theegone good man, and suffer us to sleepe I pray thee. How now (quoth_Andrea_) doest thou not understand what I say? Thou knowest that Isupt with thy Mistresse this night; but if our _Sicilian_ kindred beso soone forgot, I pray thee give me my cloathes which I left in myChamber, and then very gladly will I get mee gone. Hereat the Maidelaughing out aloude, saide; Surely the man is mad, or walketh thestreetes in a dreame; and so clasping fast the window, away shee wentand left him.
Now could _Andrea_ assure himselfe, that his gold and cloathes werepast recovery, which moving him to the more impatience, his formerintercessions became converted into fury, and what hee could notcompasse by faire entreats, he entended to winne by outrage andviolence, so that taking up a great stone in his hand, hee layedupon the doore very powerfull strokes. The neighbours hearing thismolestation still, admitting them not the least respite of rest,reputing him for a troublesome fellow, and that he used thosecounterfeit words, onely to disturbe the Mistresse of the House, and allthat dwelled neere about her; looking againe out at their windowes,they altogether began to rate and reprove him, even like so manybawling Curres, barking at a strange dog passing thorow the streete.This is shamefull villany (quoth one) and not to be suffered, thathonest women should be thus molested in their houses, with foolish idlewords, and at such an unseasonable time of the night. For Gods sake(good man) be gone, and let us sleepe; if thou have any thing to say tothe Gentlewoman of the House, come to morrow in the day time, and nodoubt but shee will make thee sufficient answer.
_Andrea_ being somewhat pacified with these speeches, a shag-hairdeswash-buckler, a grim-visagde Ruffian (as sildome bawdy houses arewithout such swaggering Champions) not seene or heard by _Andrea_,all the while of his being in the house rapping out two or threeterrible oathes, opened a casement, and with a stearne dreadfull voyce,demaunded who durst keepe that noyse beneath? _Andrea_ fearefullylooking up, and (by a little glimmering of the Moone) seeing such arough fellow, with a blacke beard, strowting like the quilles of aPorcupine, and patches on his face, for hurts received in no honestquarels, yawning also and stretching, as angry to have his sleepedisturbed: trembling and quaking, answered; I am the Gentlewomansbrother of the house. The Ruffian interrupting him, and speaking morefiercely then before; sealing his words with horrible oathes, said.Sirra, Rascall, I know not of whence or what thou art, but if I comedowne to thee, I will so bombast thy prating coxcombe, as thou wasnever better beaten in all thy life, like a drunken slave and beast asthou art, that all this night wilt not let us sleepe; and so hee claptto the window againe.
The neighbours, well acquainted with this Ruffians rude conditions,speaking in gentle manner to _Andrea_, said. Shift for thy selfe (goodman) in time, and tarrie not for his comming downe to thee; except thouart wearie of thy life, be gone therefore, and say thou hast a friendlywarning. These words dismaying _Andrea_, but much more the stearneoathes and ugly sight of the Ruffian, incited also by the neighbourscounsell, whom he imagined to advise him in charitable manner: itcaused him to depart thence, taking the way homeward to his Inne, in nomeane affliction and torment of minde, for the monstrous abuse offeredhim, and losse of his money. Well he remembred the passages, whereby(the day before) the young Girle had guided him, but the loathsomesmell about him, was so extreamely offensive to himselfe: that,desiring to wash him at the Sea side, he strayed too farre wide on thecontrary hand, wandring up the streete called _Ruga Gatellana_.
Proceeding on still, even to the highest part of the Citie, hee espieda Lanthorne and light, as also a man carrying it, and another man withhim in company, both of them comming towards him. Now, because hesuspected them two of the watch, or some persons that would apprehendhim: he stept aside to shunne them, and entred into an olde house hardby at hand. The other mens intention was to the very same place, andgoing in, without any knowledge of _Andreaes_ being there, one of themlayd downe divers instruments of yron, which he had brought thither onhis backe, and had much talke with his fellow concerning those engines.At last one of them said, I smell the most abhominable stinke, thatever I felt in all my life. So, lifting up his Lanthorne, he espiedpoore pittifull _Andrea_, closely couched behinde the wall. Which sightsomewhat affrighting him, he yet boldly demaunded, what and who heewas: whereto _Andrea_ aunswered nothing, but lay still and held hispeace. Neerer they drew towards him with their light, demaunding howhee came thither, and in that filthy manner.
Constraint having now no other evasion, but that (of necessity) allmust out: hee related to them the whole adventure, in the same sort asit had befalne him. They greatly pittying his misfortune, one of themsaid to the other. Questionlesse, this villanie was done in the houseof _Scarabone Buttafuoco_; And then turning to _Andrea_, proceededthus. In good faith poore man, albeit thou hast lost thy money, yetart thou highly beholding to Fortune, for falling (though in a fouleplace) yet in succesfull manner, and entring no more backe into thehouse. For, beleeve mee friend, if thou hadst not falne, but quietlygone to sleepe in the house; that sleepe had beene thy last in thisworld, and with thy money, thou hadst lost thy life likewise. Butteares and lamentations are now helplesse, because, as easily mayestthou plucke the Starres from the firmament, as get againe the leastdoyt of thy losse. And for that shag-haird Slave in the house, he willbe thy deaths-man, if he but understand, that thou makest any enquiryafter thy money. When he had thus admonished him, he began also in thismanner to comfort him. Honest fellow, we cannot but pitty thy presentcondition, wherefore, if thou wilt friendly a
ssociate us, in a businessewhich wee are instantly going to effect: thy losse hath not beene sogreat, but on our words wee will warrant thee, that thine immediategaine shall farre exceede it. What will not a man (in desperateextremity) both well like and allow of, especially, when it carriethapparance of present comfort? So fared it with _Andrea_, hee perswadedhimselfe, worse then had already happened, could not befall him; andtherefore he would gladly adventure with them.
The selfe same day preceding this disastrous night to _Andrea_, inthe chiefe Church of the Citie, had beene buried the Archbishop of_Naples_, named _Signior Philippo Minutolo_, in his richest pontificallroabes and ornaments, and a Ruby on his finger, valued to be worth fivehundred duckets of gold: this dead body they purposed to rob and rifle,acquainting _Andrea_ with their whole intent, whose necessity (coupledwith a covetous desire) made him more forward then well advised, tojoyne with them in this sacriligious enterprise. On they went towardsthe great Church, _Andreaes_ unsavourie perfume much displeasing them,whereupon the one said to his fellow. Can we devise no ease for thisfoule and noysome inconvenience? the very smell of him will be a meanesto betray us. There is a Well-pit hard by, answered the other, with apulley and bucket descending downe into it, and there we may wash himfrom this filthinesse. To the Well-pit they came, where they found therope and pulley hanging ready, but the bucket (for safety) was takenaway: whereon they concluded, to fasten the rope about him, and solet him downe into the Well-pit, and when he had washed himselfe, heeshould wagge the rope, and then they would draw him up againe, whichaccordingly they forth-with performed.
Now it came to passe, that while hee was thus washing himselfe in theWell-pit, the watch of the Citie walking the round, and finding it tobe a very hote and sweltring night; they grew dry and thirsty, andtherefore went to the Well to drinke. The other two men, perceivingthe Watch so neere upon them: left _Andrea_ in the Pit to shift forhimselfe, running away to shelter themselves. Their flight was notdiscovered by the Watch, but they comming to the Well-pit, _Andrea_remained still in the bottome, and having cleansed himselfe so well ashee could, sate wagging the rope, expecting when hee should be haledup. This dumbe signe the Watch discerned not, but sitting downe by theWells side, they layde downe their Billes and other weapons, tuggingto draw up the rope, thinking the Bucket was fastened thereto, andfull of water. _Andrea_ being haled up to the Pits brim, left holdingthe rope any longer, catching fast hold with his hands for his bettersafety: and the Watch at the sight heereof being greatly affrighted,as thinking that they had dragd up a Spirit; not daring to speake oneword, ranne away with all the hast they could make.
_Andrea_ hereat was not a little amazed, so that if he had not takenvery good hold on the brim: he might have falne to the bottome, anddoubtlesse there his life had perished. Being come forth of the Well,and treading on Billes and Halbards, which he well knew that hiscompanions had not brought thither with them; his mervaile so much themore encreased, ignorance and feare still seizing on him, with silentbemoaning his many misfortunes, away thence he wandred, but hee wistnot whither. As he went on, he met his two fellowes, who purposelyreturned to drag him out of the Well, and seeing their intent alreadyperformed, desired to know who had done it: wherein _Andrea_ could notresolve them, rehearsing what hee could, and what weapons hee foundlying about the Well. Whereat they smiled, as knowing, that the Watchhad haled him up, for feare of whom they left him, and so declared tohim the reason of their returne.
Leaving off all further talke, because now it was about midnight, theywent to the great Church, where finding their entrance to be easie:they approached neere the Tombe, which was very great, being all ofMarble, and the cover-stone weighty, yet with crowes of yron and otherhelps, they raised it so high, that a man might without perill passeinto it. Now began they to question one another, which of the threeshould enter into the Tombe. Not I, said the first; so said the second:No, nor I, answered _Andrea_. Which when the other two heard, theycaught fast hold of him, saying. Wilt not thou goe into the Tombe? Beadvised what thou sayest, for, if thou wilt not goe in: we will so beatthee with one of these yron crowes, that thou shalt never goe out ofthis Church alive.
Thus poore _Andrea_ is still made a property, and Fortune (this fatallnight) will have no other foole but he, as delighting in his hourlydisasters. Feare of their fury makes him obedient, into the grave hegoes, and being within, thus consults with himselfe. These cunningcompanions suppose me to be simple, & make me enter the Tombe, havingan absolute intention to deceive me. For, when I have given them allthe riches that I finde here, and am ready to come forth for mineequall portion: away will they runne for their owne safety, and leavingme here, not onely shall I loose my right among them, but must remaineto what danger may follow after. Having thus meditated, he resolvedto make sure of his owne share first, and remembring the rich Ring,whereof they had tolde him: forthwith hee tooke it from the Archbishopsfinger, finding it indifferently fitte for his owne. Afterward, heetooke the Crosse, Miter, rich garments, Gloves and all, leaving himnothing but his shirt, giving them all these severall parcels;protesting, that there was nothing else. Still they pressed upon him,affirming that there was a Ring beside, urging him to search diligentlyfor it; yet still he answered, that hee could not finde it, and fortheir longer tarying with him, seemed as if he serched very carefully,but all appeared to no purpose.
The other two fellowes, as cunning in craft as the third could be,still willed him to search, and watching their aptest opportunity:tooke away the props that supported the Tombe-stone, and running thencewith their got booty, left poore _Andrea_ mewed up in the grave. Whichwhen he perceived, and saw this misery to exceede all the rest, it isfarre easier for you to guesse at his greefe, then I am any way ableto expresse it. His head, shoulders, yea all his utmost strength heemployeth, to remove that over-heavy hinderer of his liberty: but allhis labour beeing spent in vaine, sorrow threw him in a swoond uponthe Byshoppes dead body, where if both of them might at that instanthave bene observed, the Arch-byshops dead body, and _Andrea_ in greefedying, very hardly had bene distinguished. But his senses regainingtheir former offices, among his silent complaints, considerationpresented him with choyse of these two unavoydable extremities. Dyestarving must he in the tombe, with putrifaction of the dead body; orif any man came to open the Grave, then must he be apprehended as asacrilegious Theefe, and so be hanged, according to the lawes in thatcase provided.
As he continued in these strange afflictions of minde, sodainely heeheard a noise in the Church of divers men, who (as he imagined) cameabout the like businesse, as hee and his fellowes had undertakenbefore; wherein he was not a jot deceived, albeit his feare the moreaugmented. Having opened the Tombe, and supported the stone, theyvaried also among themselves for entrance, and an indiffrent whilecontended about it. At length, a Priest being one in the company,boldly said. Why how now you white-liver'd Rascals? What are youaffraid of? Do you thinke he will eate you? Dead men cannot bite,and therefore I my selfe will go in. Having thus spoken, he preparedhis entrance to the Tombe in such order, that he thrust in his feetebefore, for his easier descending downe into it.
_Andrea_ sitting upright in the Tombe, and desiring to make use of thishappy opportunity, caught the Priest fast by one of his legges, makingshew as if he meant to dragge him downe. Which when the Priest felt, hecryed out aloud, getting out with all the hast he could make, and allhis companions, being well neere frighted out of their wits, ranne awayamaine, as if they had bene followed by a thousand divels. _Andrea_little dreaming on such fortunate successe, made meanes to get out ofthe grave, and afterward forth of the Church, at the very same placewhere he entred.
Now began day-light to appeare, when hee, having the rich Ring on hisfinger, wandred on hee knew not whether: till comming to the Sea-side,he found the way directing to his Inne, where all his company werewith his Host, who had bene very carefull for him. Having related hismanifold mischances, his Hoste friendly advised him with speede to gethim out of _Naples_. As instantly he did, returning ho
me to _Perouse_,having adventured his five hundred Crownes on a Ring, where-with heepurposed to have bought Horses, according to the intent of his journeythither.