THE SEVENTH STORY
[Day the Second]
THE SOLDAN OF BABYLON SENDETH A DAUGHTER OF HIS TO BE MARRIED TO THE KING OF ALGARVE, AND SHE, BY DIVERS CHANCES, IN THE SPACE OF FOUR YEARS COMETH TO THE HANDS OF NINE MEN IN VARIOUS PLACES. ULTIMATELY, BEING RESTORED TO HER FATHER FOR A MAID, SHE GOETH TO THE KING OF ALGARVE TO WIFE, AS FIRST SHE DID
Had Emilia's story been much longer protracted, it is like thecompassion had by the young ladies on the misfortunes of MadamBeritola would have brought them to tears; but, an end being now madethereof, it pleased the queen that Pamfilo should follow on with hisstory, and accordingly he, who was very obedient, began thus, "Uneath,charming ladies, is it for us to know that which is meet for us, forthat, as may oftentimes have been seen, many, imagining that, werethey but rich, they might avail to live without care and secure, havenot only with prayers sought riches of God, but have diligentlystudied to acquire them, grudging no toil and no peril in the quest,and who,--whereas, before they became enriched, they loved theirlives,--once having gotten their desire, have found folk to slay them,for greed of so ample an inheritance. Others of low estate, having,through a thousand perilous battles and the blood of their brethrenand their friends, mounted to the summit of kingdoms, thinking in theroyal estate to enjoy supreme felicity, without the innumerable caresand alarms whereof they see and feel it full, have learned, at thecost of their lives, that poison is drunken at royal tables in cups ofgold. Many there be who have with most ardent appetite desired bodilystrength and beauty and divers personal adornments and perceived notthat they had desired ill till they found these very gifts a cause tothem of death or dolorous life. In fine, not to speak particularly ofall the objects of human desire, I dare say that there is not onewhich can, with entire assurance, be chosen by mortal men as securefrom the vicissitudes of fortune; wherefore, an we would do aright,needs must we resign ourselves to take and possess that which isappointed us of Him who alone knoweth that which behoveth unto us andis able to give it to us. But for that, whereas men sin in desiringvarious things, you, gracious ladies, sin, above all, in one, to wit,in wishing to be fair,--insomuch that, not content with the charmsvouchsafed you by nature, you still with marvellous art study toaugment them,--it pleaseth me to recount to you how ill-fortunedlyfair was a Saracen lady, whom it befell, for her beauty, to be in somefour years' space nine times wedded anew.
It is now a pretty while since there was a certain Soldan ofBabylon,[113] by name Berminedab, to whom in his day many thingshappened in accordance with his pleasure.[114] Amongst many otherchildren, both male and female, he had a daughter called Alatiel, who,by report of all who saw her, was the fairest woman to be seen in theworld in those days, and having, in a great defeat he had inflictedupon a vast multitude of Arabs who were come upon him, beenwonder-well seconded by the King of Algarve,[115] had, at his request,given her to him to wife, of especial favour; wherefore, embarking heraboard a ship well armed and equipped, with an honourable company ofmen and ladies and store of rich and sumptuous gear and furniture, hedespatched her to him, commending her to God.
[Footnote 113: _i.e._ Egypt, Cairo was known in the middle ages by thename of "Babylon of Egypt." It need hardly be noted that the Babylonof the Bible was the city of that name on the Euphrates, the ancientcapital of Chaldaea (Irak Babili). The names Beminedab and Alatiel arepurely imaginary.]
[Footnote 114: _i.e._ to his wish, to whom fortune was mostlyfavourable in his enterprises.]
[Footnote 115: _Il Garbo_, Arabic El Gherb or Gharb, [Arabic: algharb], the West, a name given by the Arabs to several parts of theMuslim empire, but by which Boccaccio apparently means Algarve, thesouthernmost province of Portugal and the last part of that kingdom tosuccumb to the wave of Christian reconquest, it having remained in thehands of the Muslims till the second half of the thirteenth century.This supposition is confirmed by the course taken by Alatiel's ship,which would naturally pass Sardinia and the Balearic Islands on itsway from Alexandria to Portugal.]
The sailors, seeing the weather favourable, gave their sails to thewind and departing the port of Alexandria, fared on prosperously manydays, and having now passed Sardinia, deemed themselves near the endof their voyage, when there arose one day of a sudden divers contrarywinds, which, being each beyond measure boisterous, so harassed theship, wherein was the lady, and the sailors, that the latter more thanonce gave themselves over for lost. However, like valiant men, usingevery art and means in their power, they rode it out two days, thoughbuffeted by a terrible sea; but, at nightfall of the third day, thetempest abating not, nay, waxing momently, they felt the ship open,being then not far off Majorca, but knowing not where they wereneither availing to apprehend it either by nautical reckoning or bysight, for that the sky was altogether obscured by clouds and darknight; wherefore, seeing no other way of escape and having eachhimself in mind and not others, they lowered a shallop into the water,into which the officers cast themselves, choosing rather to trustthemselves thereto than to the leaking ship. The rest of the men inthe ship crowded after them into the boat, albeit those who had firstembarked therein opposed it, knife in hand,--and thinking thus to fleefrom death, ran straight into it, for that the boat, availing not, forthe intemperance of the weather, to hold so many, foundered and theyperished one and all.
As for the ship, being driven by a furious wind and running veryswiftly, albeit it was now well nigh water-logged, (none being left onboard save the princess and her women, who all, overcome by thetempestuous sea and by fear, lay about the decks as they were dead,)it stranded upon a beach of the island of Majorca and such and sogreat was the shock that it well nigh buried itself in the sand somestone's cast from the shore, where it abode the night, beaten by thewaves, nor might the wind avail to stir it more. Broad day came andthe tempest somewhat abating, the princess, who was half dead, raisedher head and weak as she was, fell to calling now one, now another ofher household, but to no purpose, for that those she called were toofar distant. Finding herself unanswered of any and seeing no one, shemarvelled exceedingly and began to be sore afraid; then, rising up, asbest she might, she saw the ladies who were in her company and theother women lying all about and trying now one and now another, foundfew who gave any signs of life, the most of them being dead what withsore travail of the stomach and what with affright; wherefore fearredoubled upon her.
Nevertheless, necessity constraining her, for that she saw herselfalone there and had neither knowledge nor inkling where she was, sheso goaded those who were yet alive that she made them arise andfinding them unknowing whither the men were gone and seeing the shipstranded and full of water, she fell to weeping piteously, togetherwith them. It was noon ere they saw any about the shore or elsewhere,whom they might move to pity and succour them; but about that hourthere passed by a gentleman, by name Pericone da Visalgo, returning bychance from a place of his, with sundry of his servants on horseback.He saw the ship and forthright conceiving what it was, bade one of theservants board it without delay and tell him what he found there. Theman, though with difficulty, made his way on board and found the younglady, with what little company she had, crouched, all adread, underthe heel of the bowsprit. When they saw him, they besought him,weeping, of mercy again and again; but, perceiving that he understoodthem not nor they him, they made shift to make known to him theirmisadventure by signs.
The servant having examined everything as best he might, reported toPericone that which was on board; whereupon the latter promptly causedto bring the ladies ashore, together with the most precious thingsthat were in the ship and might be gotten, and carried them off to acastle of his, where, the women being refreshed with food and rest, heperceived, from the richness of her apparel, that the lady whom he hadfound must needs be some great gentlewoman, and of this he wasspeedily certified by the honour that he saw the others do her and heralone; and although she was pale and sore disordered of her person,for the fatigues of the voyage, her features seemed to him exceedingfair; wherefore he
forthright took counsel with himself, an she had nohusband, to seek to have her to wife, and if he might not have her inmarriage, to make shift to have her favours.
He was a man of commanding presence and exceeding robust and havingfor some days let tend the lady excellently well and she being therebyaltogether restored, he saw her lovely past all conception and wasgrieved beyond measure that he could not understand her nor she himand so he might not learn who she was. Nevertheless, beinginordinately inflamed by her charms, he studied, with pleasing andamorous gestures, to engage her to do his pleasure without contention;but to no avail; she altogether rejected his advances and so much themore waxed Pericone's ardour. The lady, seeing this and having nowabidden there some days, perceived, by the usances of the folk, thatshe was among Christians and in a country where, even if she could, ithad little profited her to make herself known and foresaw that, in theend, either perforce or for love, needs must she resign herself to doPericone's pleasure, but resolved nevertheless by dint of magnanimityto override the wretchedness of her fortune; wherefore she commandedher women, of whom but three were left her, that they should neverdiscover to any who she was, except they found themselves whereas theymight look for manifest furtherance in the regaining of their liberty,and urgently exhorted them, moreover, to preserve their chastity,avouching herself determined that none, save her husband, should everenjoy her. They commended her for this and promised to observe hercommandment to the best of their power.
Meanwhile Pericone, waxing daily more inflamed, insomuch as he saw thething desired so near and yet so straitly denied, and seeing that hisblandishments availed him nothing, resolved to employ craft andartifice, reserving force unto the last. Wherefore, having observedbytimes that wine was pleasing to the lady, as being unused to drinkthereof, for that her law forbade it, he bethought himself that hemight avail to take her with this, as with a minister of enus.Accordingly, feigning to reck no more of that whereof she showedherself so chary, he made one night by way of special festival agoodly supper, whereto he bade the lady, and therein, the repast beinggladdened with many things, he took order with him who served her thathe should give her to drink of various wines mingled. The cupbearerdid his bidding punctually and she, being nowise on her guard againstthis and allured by the pleasantness of the drink, took more thereofthan consisted with her modesty; whereupon, forgetting all her pasttroubles, she waxed merry and seeing some women dance after thefashion of Majorca, herself danced in the Alexandrian manner.
Pericone, seeing this, deemed himself on the high road to that whichhe desired and continuing the supper with great plenty of meats andwines, protracted it far into the night. Ultimately, the guests havingdeparted, he entered with the lady alone into her chamber, where she,more heated with wine than restrained by modesty, without any reserveof shamefastness, undid herself in his presence, as he had been one ofher women, and betook herself to bed. Pericone was not slow to followher, but, putting out all the lights, promptly hid himself beside herand catching her in his arms, proceeded, without any gainsayal on herpart, amorously to solace himself with her; which when once she hadfelt,--having never theretofore known with what manner horn menbutt,--as if repenting her of not having yielded to Pericone'ssolicitations, thenceforth, without waiting to be bidden to suchagreeable nights, she oftentimes invited herself thereto, not bywords, which she knew not how to make understood, but by deeds.
But, in the midst of this great pleasance of Pericone and herself,fortune, not content with having reduced her from a king's bride to bethe mistress of a country gentleman, had foreordained unto her a morebarbarous alliance. Pericone had a brother by name Marato,five-and-twenty years of age and fair and fresh as a rose, who saw herand she pleased him mightily. Himseemed, moreover, according to thatwhich he could apprehend from her gestures, that he was very well seenof her and conceiving that nought hindered him of that which he cravedof her save the strait watch kept on her by Pericone, he fell into abarbarous thought, whereon the nefarious effect followed withoutdelay.
There was then, by chance, in the harbour of the city a vessel ladenwith merchandise and bound for Chiarenza[116] in Roumelia; whereof twoyoung Genoese were masters, who had already hoisted sail to depart assoon as the wind should be fair. Marato, having agreed with them, tookorder how he should on the ensuing night be received aboard their shipwith the lady; and this done, as soon as it was dark, having inwardlydetermined what he should do, he secretly betook himself, with certainof his trustiest friends, whom he had enlisted for the purpose, to thehouse of Pericone, who nowise mistrusted him. There he hid himself,according to the ordinance appointed between them, and after a part ofthe night had passed, he admitted his companions and repaired withthem to the chamber where Pericone lay with the lady. Having openedthe door, they slew Pericone, as he slept, and took the lady, who wasnow awake and in tears, threatening her with death, if she made anyoutcry; after which they made off, unobserved, with great part ofPericone's most precious things and betook themselves in haste to thesea-shore, where Marato and the lady embarked without delay on boardthe ship, whilst his companions returned whence they came.
[Footnote 116: The modern Klarentza in the north-west of the Morea,which latter province formed part of Roumelia under the Turkishdomination.]
The sailors, having a fair wind and a fresh, made sail and set out ontheir voyage, whilst the princess sore and bitterly bewailed both herformer and that her second misadventure; but Marato, with that SaintWaxeth-in-hand, which God hath given us [men,] proceeded to comforther after such a fashion that she soon grew familiar with him andforgetting Pericone, began to feel at her ease, when fortune, as ifnot content with the past tribulations wherewith it had visited her,prepared her a new affliction; for that, she being, as we have alreadymore than once said, exceeding fair of favour and of very engagingmanners, the two young men, the masters of the ship, became sopassionately enamoured of her that, forgetting all else, they studiedonly to serve and pleasure her, being still on their guard lest Maratoshould get wind of the cause. Each becoming aware of the other'spassion, they privily took counsel together thereof, and agreed tojoin in getting the lady for themselves and enjoy her in common, as iflove should suffer this, as do merchandise and gain.
Seeing her straitly guarded by Marato and being thereby hindered oftheir purpose, one day, as the ship fared on at full speed under sailand Marato stood at the poop, looking out on the sea and nowise on hisguard against them, they went of one accord and laying hold of himsuddenly from behind, cast him into the sea, nor was it till they hadsailed more than a mile farther that any perceived Marato to befallen overboard. Alatiel, hearing this and seeing no possible way ofrecovering him, began anew to make moan for herself; whereupon the twolovers came incontinent to her succour and with soft words and verygood promises, whereof she understood but little, studied to sootheand console the lady, who lamented not so much her lost husband as herown ill fortune. After holding much discourse with her at one time andanother, themseeming after awhile they had well nigh comforted her,they came to words with one another which should first take her to liewith him. Each would fain be the first and being unable to come to anyaccord upon this, they first with words began a sore and hot disputeand thereby kindled into rage, they clapped hands to their knives andfalling furiously on one another, before those on board could partthem, dealt each other several blows, whereof one incontinent felldead, whilst the other abode on life, though grievously wounded inmany places.
This new mishap was sore unpleasing to the lady, who saw herselfalone, without aid or counsel of any, and feared lest the anger of thetwo masters' kinsfolk and friends should revert upon herself; but theprayers of the wounded man and their speedy arrival at Chiarenzadelivered her from danger of death. There she went ashore with thewounded man and took up her abode with him in an inn, where the reportof her great beauty soon spread through the city and came to the earsof the Prince of the Morea, who was then at Chiarenza and was fain tosee her. Having gotten sight of her and himseeming
she was fairer thanreport gave out, he straightway became so sore enamoured of her thathe could think of nothing else and hearing how she came thither,doubted not to be able to get her for himself. As he cast about for ameans of effecting his purpose, the wounded man's kinsfolk got wind ofhis desire and without awaiting more, sent her to him forthright,which was mighty agreeable to the prince and to the lady also, forthat herseemed she was quit of a great peril. The prince, seeing hergraced, over and above her beauty, with royal manners and unableotherwise to learn who she was, concluded her to be some noble lady,wherefore he redoubled in his love for her and holding her inexceeding honour, entreated her not as a mistress, but as his verywife.
The lady, accordingly, having regard to her past troubles andherseeming she was well enough bestowed, was altogether comforted andwaxing blithe again, her beauties flourished on such wise that itseemed all Roumelia could talk of nothing else. The report of herloveliness reaching the Duke of Athens, who was young and handsome anddoughty of his person and a friend and kinsman of the prince, he wastaken with a desire to see her and making a show of paying him avisit, as he was wont bytimes to do, repaired, with a fair andworshipful company, to Chiarenza, where he was honourably received andsumptuously entertained. Some days after, the two kinsmen coming todiscourse together of the lady's charms, the duke asked if she wereindeed so admirable a creature as was reported; to which the princeanswered, 'Much more so; but thereof I will have not my words, butthine own eyes certify thee.' Accordingly, at the duke'ssolicitation, they betook themselves together to the princess'slodging, who, having had notice of their coming, received them verycourteously and with a cheerful favour, and they seated her betweenthem, but might not have the pleasure of conversing with her, for thatshe understood little or nothing of their language; wherefore eachcontented himself with gazing upon her, as upon a marvel, andespecially the duke, who could scarce bring himself to believe thatshe was a mortal creature and thinking to satisfy his desire with hersight, heedless of the amorous poison he drank in at his eyes,beholding her, he miserably ensnared himself, becoming most ardentlyenamoured of her.
After he had departed her presence with the prince and had leisure tobethink himself, he esteemed his kinsman happy beyond all others inhaving so fair a creature at his pleasure, and after many and variousthoughts, his unruly passion weighing more with him than his honour,he resolved, come thereof what might, to do his utmost endeavour todespoil the prince of that felicity and bless himself therewith.Accordingly, being minded to make a quick despatch of the matter andsetting aside all reason and all equity, he turned his every thoughtto the devising of means for the attainment of his wishes, and oneday, in accordance with the nefarious ordinance taken by him with aprivy chamberlain of the prince's, by name Ciuriaci, he let make readyin secret his horses and baggage for a sudden departure.
The night come, he was, with a companion, both armed, stealthilyintroduced by the aforesaid Ciuriaci into the prince's chamber and sawthe latter (the lady being asleep) standing, all naked for the greatheat, at a window overlooking the sea-shore, to take a little breezethat came from that quarter; whereupon, having beforehand informed hiscompanion of that which he had to do, he went softly up to the windowand striking the prince with a knife, stabbed him, through and throughthe small of his back; then, taking him up in haste, he cast him forthof the window. The palace stood over against the sea and was verylofty and the window in question looked upon certain houses that hadbeen undermined by the beating of the waves and where seldom or neverany came; wherefore it happened, as the duke had foreseen, that thefall of the prince's body was not nor might be heard of any. Theduke's companion, seeing this done, pulled out a halter he had broughtwith him to that end and making a show of caressing Ciuriaci, cast itadroitly about his neck and drew it so that he could make no outcry;then, the duke coming up, they strangled him and cast him whereas theyhad cast the prince.
This done and they being manifestly certified that they had beenunheard of the lady or of any other, the duke took a light in his handand carrying it to the bedside, softly uncovered the princess, whoslept fast. He considered her from head to foot and mightily commendedher; for, if she was to his liking, being clothed, she pleased him,naked, beyond all compare. Wherefore, fired with hotter desire andunawed by his new-committed crime, he couched himself by her side,with hands yet bloody, and lay with her, all sleepy-eyed as she wasand thinking him to be the prince. After he had abidden with herawhile in the utmost pleasure, he arose and summoning certain of hiscompanions, caused take up the lady on such wise that she could makeno outcry and carry her forth by a privy door, whereat he had entered;then, setting her on horseback, he took to the road with all his men,as softliest he might, and returned to his own dominions. However (forthat he had a wife) he carried the lady, who was the most distressfulof women, not to Athens, but to a very goodly place he had by the sea,a little without the city, and there entertained her in secret,causing honourably furnish her with all that was needful.
The prince's courtiers on the morrow awaited his rising till none,when, hearing nothing, they opened the chamber-doors, which were butclosed, and finding no one, concluded that he was gone somewhitherprivily, to pass some days there at his ease with his fair lady, andgave themselves no farther concern. Things being thus, it chanced nextday that an idiot, entering the ruins where lay the bodies of theprince and Ciuriaci, dragged the latter forth by the halter and wenthaling him after him. The body was, with no little wonderment,recognized by many, who, coaxing the idiot to bring them to the placewhence he had dragged it, there, to the exceeding grief of the wholecity, found the prince's corpse and gave it honourable burial. Then,enquiring for the authors of so heinous a crime and finding that theDuke of Athens was no longer there, but had departed by stealth, theyconcluded, even as was the case, that it must be he who had done thisand carried off the lady; whereupon they straightway substituted abrother of the dead man to their prince and incited him with all theirmight to vengeance. The new prince, being presently certified byvarious other circumstances that it was as they had surmised, summonedhis friends and kinsmen and servants from divers parts and promptlylevying a great and goodly and powerful army, set out to make war uponthe Duke of Athens.
The latter, hearing of this, on like wise mustered all his forces forhis own defence, and to his aid came many lords, amongst whom theEmperor of Constantinople sent Constantine his son and Manual hisnephew, with a great and goodly following. The two princes werehonourably received by the duke and yet more so by the duchess, forthat she was their sister,[117] and matters drawing thus daily nearerunto war, taking her occasion, she sent for them both one day to herchamber and there, with tears galore and many words, related to themthe whole story, acquainting them with the causes of the war.Moreover, she discovered to them the affront done her by the duke inthe matter of the woman whom it was believed he privily entertained,and complaining sore thereof, besought them to apply to the mattersuch remedy as best they might, for the honour of the duke and her ownsolacement.
[Footnote 117: _i.e._ sister to the one and cousin to the other.]
The young men already knew all the facts as it had been; wherefore,without enquiring farther, they comforted the duchess, as best theymight, and filled her with good hope. Then, having learned from herwhere the lady abode, they took their leave and having a mind to seethe latter, for that they had oftentimes heard her commended formarvellous beauty, they besought the duke to show her to them. He,unmindful of that which had befallen the Prince of the Morea forhaving shown her to himself, promised to do this and accordingly nextmorning, having let prepare a magnificent collation in a very goodlygarden that pertained to the lady's place of abode, he carried themand a few others thither to eat with her. Constantine, sitting withAlatiel, fell a-gazing upon her, full of wonderment, avouching inhimself that he had never seen aught so lovely and that certes theduke must needs be held excused, ay, and whatsoever other, to have sofair a creature, should do treason or other foul thing, and loo
king onher again and again and each time admiring her more, it betided him nootherwise than it had betided the duke; wherefore, taking his leave,enamoured of her, he abandoned all thought of the war and occupiedhimself with considering how he might take her from the duke,carefully concealing his passion the while from every one.
Whilst he yet burnt in this fire, the time came to go out against thenew prince, who now drew near to the duke's territories; wherefore thelatter and Constantine and all the others, sallied forth of Athensaccording to the given ordinance and betook themselves to the defenceof certain frontiers, so the prince might not avail to advancefarther. When they had lain there some days, Constantine having hismind and thought still intent upon the lady and conceiving that, nowthe duke was no longer near her, he might very well avail toaccomplish his pleasure, feigned himself sore indisposed of hisperson, to have an occasion of returning to Athens; wherefore, withthe duke's leave, committing his whole power to Manuel, he returned toAthens to his sister, and there, after some days, putting her upontalk of the affront which herseemed she suffered from the duke byreason of the lady whom he entertained, he told her that, an it likedher, he would soon ease her thereof by causing take the lady fromwhereas she was and carry her off. The duchess, conceiving that he didthis of regard for herself and not for love of the lady, answered thatit liked her exceeding well so but it might be done on such wise thatthe duke should never know that she had been party thereto, whichConstantine fully promised her, and thereupon she consented that heshould do as seemed best to him.
Constantine, accordingly, let secretly equip a light vessel and sentit one evening to the neighbourhood of the garden where the ladyabode; then, having taught certain of his men who were on board whatthey had to do, he repaired with others to the lady's pavilion, wherehe was cheerfully received by those in her service and indeed by thelady herself, who, at his instance, betook herself with him to thegarden, attended by her servitors and his companions. There, making ashe would speak with her on the duke's part, he went with her alonetowards a gate, which gave upon the sea and had already been opened byone of his men, and calling the bark thither with the given signal, hecaused suddenly seize the lady and carry her aboard; then, turning toher people, he said to them, 'Let none stir or utter a word, an hewould not die; for that I purpose not to rob the duke of his wench,but to do away the affront which he putteth upon my sister.'
To this none dared make answer; whereupon Constantine, embarking withhis people and seating himself by the side of the weeping lady, badethrust the oars into the water and make off. Accordingly, they put outto sea and not hieing, but flying,[118] came, after a little afterdaybreak on the morrow, to Egina, where they landed and took rest,whilst Constantine solaced himself awhile with the lady, who bemoanedher ill-fated beauty. Thence, going aboard the bark again, they madetheir way, in a few days, to Chios, where it pleased Constantine totake up his sojourn, as in a place of safety, for fear of his father'sresentment and lest the stolen lady should be taken from him. Therethe fair lady bewailed her ill fate some days, but, being presentlycomforted by Constantine, she began, as she had done otherwhiles, totake her pleasure of that which fortune had foreordained to her.
[Footnote 118: _Non vogando, ma volando._]
Things being at this pass, Osbech, King of the Turks, who abode incontinual war with the Emperor, came by chance to Smyrna, wherehearing how Constantine abode in Chios, without any precaution,leading a wanton life with a mistress of his, whom he had stolen away,he repaired thither one night with some light-armed ships and enteringthe city by stealth with some of his people, took many in their beds,ere they knew of the enemy's coming. Some, who, taking the alert, hadrun to arms, he slew and having burnt the whole place, carried thebooty and captives on board the ships and returned to Smyrna. Whenthey arrived there, Osbech, who was a young man, passing his prisonersin review, found the fair lady among them and knowing her for her whohad been taken with Constantine asleep in bed, was mightily rejoicedat sight of her. Accordingly, he made her his wife without delay, andcelebrating the nuptials forthright, lay with her some months in alljoyance.
Meanwhile, the Emperor, who had, before these things came to pass,been in treaty with Bassano, King of Cappadocia, to the end that heshould come down upon Osbech from one side with his power, whilsthimself assailed him on the other, but had not yet been able to cometo a full accord with him, for that he was unwilling to grant certainthings which Bassano demanded and which he deemed unreasonable,hearing what had betided his son and chagrined beyond measure thereat,without hesitating farther, did that which the King of Cappadociaasked and pressed him as most he might to fall upon Osbech, whilsthimself made ready to come down upon him from another quarter. Osbech,hearing this, assembled his army, ere he should be straitened betweentwo such puissant princes, and marched against Bassano, leaving hisfair lady at Smyrna, in charge of a trusty servant and friend of his.After some time he encountered the King of Cappadocia and giving himbattle, was slain in the mellay and his army discomfited anddispersed; whereupon Bassano advanced in triumph towards Smyrna,unopposed, and all the folk submitted to him by the way, as to aconqueror.
Meanwhile, Osbech's servant, Antiochus by name, in whose charge thelady had been left, seeing her so fair, forgot his plighted faith tohis friend and master and became enamoured of her, for all he was aman in years. Urged by love and knowing her tongue (the which wasmighty agreeable to her, as well as it might be to one whom it hadbehoved for some years live as she were deaf and dumb, for that sheunderstood none neither was understanded of any) he began, in a fewdays, to be so familiar with her that, ere long, having no regard totheir lord and master who was absent in the field, they passed fromfriendly commerce to amorous privacy, taking marvellous pleasure oneof the other between the sheets. When they heard that Osbech wasdefeated and slain and that Bassano came carrying all before him, theytook counsel together not to await him there and laying hands on greatpart of the things of most price that were there pertaining to Osbech,gat them privily to Rhodes, where they had not long abidden ereAntiochus sickened unto death.
As chance would have it, there was then in lodging with him a merchantof Cyprus, who was much loved of him and his fast friend, andAntiochus, feeling himself draw to his end, bethought himself to leavehim both his possessions and his beloved lady; wherefore, being nownigh upon death, he called them both to him and bespoke them thus, 'Ifeel myself, without a doubt, passing away, which grieveth me, forthat never had I such delight in life as I presently have. Of onething, indeed, I die most content, in that, since I must e'en die, Isee myself die in the arms of those twain whom I love over all othersthat be in the world, to wit, in thine, dearest friend, and in thoseof this lady, whom I have loved more than mine own self, since first Iknew her. True, it grieveth me to feel that, when I am dead, she willabide here a stranger, without aid or counsel; and it were yet moregrievous to me, did I not know thee here, who wilt, I trust, have thatsame care of her, for the love of me, which thou wouldst have had ofmyself. Wherefore, I entreat thee, as most I may, if it come to passthat I die, that thou take my goods and her into thy charge and dowith them and her that which thou deemest may be for the solacement ofmy soul. And thou, dearest lady, I prithee forget me not after mydeath, so I may vaunt me, in the other world, of being beloved herebelow of the fairest lady ever nature formed; of which two things anyou will give me entire assurance, I shall depart without misgivingand comforted.'
The merchant his friend and the lady, hearing these words, wept, andwhen he had made an end of his speech, they comforted him and promisedhim upon their troth to do that which he asked, if it came to passthat he died. He tarried not long, but presently departed this lifeand was honourably interred of them. A few days after, the merchanthaving despatched all his business in Rhodes and purposing to returnto Cyprus on board a Catalan carrack that was there, asked the fairlady what she had a mind to do, for that it behoved him return toCyprus. She answered that, an it pleased him, she would gladly go withhim, hoping for A
ntiochus his love to be of him entreated and regardedas a sister. The merchant replied that he was content to do her everypleasure, and the better to defend her from any affront that might beoffered her, ere they came to Cyprus, he avouched that she was hiswife. Accordingly, they embarked on board the ship and were given alittle cabin on the poop, where, that the fact might not belie hiswords, he lay with her in one very small bed. Whereby there came aboutthat which was not intended of the one or the other of them atdeparting Rhodes, to wit, that--darkness and commodity and the heat ofthe bed, matters of no small potency, inciting them,--drawn by equalappetite and forgetting both the friendship and the love of Antiochusdead, they fell to dallying with each other and before they reachedBaffa, whence the Cypriot came, they had clapped up an alliancetogether.
At Baffa she abode some time with the merchant till, as chance wouldhave it, there came thither, for his occasions, a gentleman by nameAntigonus, great of years and greater yet of wit, but little ofwealth, for that, intermeddling in the affairs of the King of Cyprus,fortune had in many things been contrary to him. Chancing one day topass by the house where the fair lady dwelt with the merchant, who wasthen gone with his merchandise into Armenia, he espied her at a windowand seeing her very beautiful, fell to gazing fixedly upon her andpresently began to recollect that he must have seen her otherwhere,but where he could on no wise call to mind. As for the lady, who hadlong been the sport of fortune, but the term of whose ills was nowdrawing near, she no sooner set eyes on Antigonus than she rememberedto have seen him at Alexandria in no mean station in her father'sservice; wherefore, conceiving a sudden hope of yet by his aidregaining her royal estate, and knowing her merchant to be abroad, shelet call him to her as quickliest she might and asked him, blushing,an he were not, as she supposed, Antigonus of Famagosta. He answeredthat he was and added, 'Madam, meseemeth I know you, but on no wisecan I remember me where I have seen you; wherefore I pray you, an itmislike you not, put me in mind who you are.'
The lady hearing that it was indeed he, to his great amazement, casther arms about his neck, weeping sore, and presently asked him if hehad never seen her in Alexandria. Antigonus, hearing this, incontinentknew her for the Soldan's daughter Alatiel, who was thought to haveperished at sea, and would fain have paid her the homage due to herquality; but she would on no wise suffer it and besought him to sitwith her awhile. Accordingly, seating himself beside her, he asked herrespectfully how and when and whence she came thither, seeing that itwas had for certain, through all the land of Egypt, that she had beendrowned at sea years agone. 'Would God,' replied she, 'it had been so,rather than that I should have had the life I have had; and I doubtnot but my father would wish the like, if ever he came to know it.'
So saying, she fell anew to weeping wonder-sore; whereupon quothAntigonus to her, 'Madam, despair not ere it behove you; but, an itplease you, relate to me your adventures and what manner of life yourshath been; it may be the matter hath gone on such wise that, withGod's aid, we may avail to find an effectual remedy.' 'Antigonus,'answered the fair lady, 'when I beheld thee, meseemed I saw my father,and moved by that love and tenderness, which I am bounden to bear him,I discovered myself to thee, having it in my power to conceal myselffrom thee, and few persons could it have befallen me to look upon inwhom I could have been so well-pleased as I am to have seen and knownthee before any other; wherefore that which in my ill fortune I havestill kept hidden, to thee, as to a father, I will discover. If, afterthou hast heard it, thou see any means of restoring me to my pristineestate, prithee use it; but, if thou see none, I beseech thee nevertell any that thou hast seen me or heard aught of me.'
This said, she recounted to him, still weeping, that which hadbefallen her from the time of her shipwreck on Majorca up to thatmoment; whereupon he fell a-weeping for pity and after consideringawhile, 'Madam,' said he, 'since in your misfortunes it hath beenhidden who you are, I will, without fail, restore you, dearer thanever, to your father and after to the King of Algarve to wife.' Beingquestioned of her of the means, he showed her orderly that which wasto do, and lest any hindrance should betide through delay, hepresently returned to Famagosta and going in to the king, said to him,'My lord, an it like you, you have it in your power at once to doyourself exceeding honour and me, who am poor through you, a greatservice, at no great cost of yours.' The king asked how and Antigonusreplied, 'There is come to Baffa the Soldan's fair young daughter, whohath so long been reputed drowned and who, to save her honour, hathlong suffered very great unease and is presently in poor case andwould fain return to her father. An it pleased you send her to himunder my guard, it would be much to your honour and to my weal, nor doI believe that such a service would ever be forgotten of the Soldan.'
The king, moved by a royal generosity of mind, answered forthrightthat he would well and sending for Alatiel, brought her with allhonour and worship to Famagosta, where she was received by himself andthe queen with inexpressible rejoicing and entertained withmagnificent hospitality. Being presently questioned of the king andqueen of her adventures, she answered according to the instructionsgiven her by Antigonus and related everything;[119] and a few daysafter, at her request, the king sent her, under the governance ofAntigonus, with a goodly and worshipful company of men and women, backto the Soldan, of whom let none ask if she was received withrejoicing, as also was Antigonus and all her company.
[Footnote 119: Sic (_conto tutto_); but this is an oversight of theauthor's, as it is evident from what follows that she did _not_ relateeverything.]
As soon as she was somewhat rested, the Soldan desired to know how itchanced that she was yet alive and where she had so long abidden,without having ever let him know aught of her condition; whereupon thelady, who had kept Antigonus his instructions perfectly in mind,bespoke him thus, 'Father mine, belike the twentieth day after mydeparture from you, our ship, having sprung a leak in a terriblestorm, struck in the night upon certain coasts yonder in theWest,[120] near a place called Aguamorta, and what became of the menwho were aboard I know not nor could ever learn; this much only do Iremember that, the day come and I arisen as it were from death tolife, the shattered vessel was espied of the country people, who ranfrom all the parts around to plunder it. I and two of my women werefirst set ashore and the latter were incontinent seized by certain ofthe young men, who fled with them, one this way and the other that,and what came of them I never knew.
[Footnote 120: Lit. Ponant (_Ponente_), _i.e._ the Western coasts ofthe Mediterranean, as opposed to the Eastern or Levant.]
As for myself, I was taken, despite my resistance, by two young men,and haled along by the hair, weeping sore the while; but, as theycrossed over a road, to enter a great wood, there passed by four menon horseback, whom when my ravishers saw, they loosed me forthwith andtook to flight. The new comers, who seemed to me persons of greatauthority, seeing this, ran where I was and asked me many questions;whereto I answered much, but neither understood nor was understandedof them. However, after long consultation they set me on one of theirhorses and carried me to a convent of women vowed to religion,according to their law, where, whatever they said, I was of all theladies kindly received and still entreated with honour, and there withgreat devotion I joined them in serving Saint Waxeth-in-Deepdene, asaint for whom the women of that country have a vast regard.
After I had abidden with them awhile and learned somewhat of theirlanguage, they questioned me of who I was and fearing, an I told thetruth, to be expelled from amongst them, as an enemy of their faith, Ianswered that I was the daughter of a great gentleman of Cyprus, whowas sending me to be married in Crete, when, as ill-luck would haveit, we had run thither and suffered shipwreck. Moreover, many a timeand in many things I observed their customs, for fear of worse, andbeing asked by the chief of the ladies, her whom they call abbess, ifI wished to return thence to Cyprus, I answered that I desired nothingso much; but she, tender of my honour, would never consent to trust meto any person who was bound for Cyprus, till some two months agone,when there came thither
certain gentlemen of France with their ladies.One of the latter being a kinswoman of the abbess and she hearing thatthey were bound for Jerusalem, to visit the Sepulchre where He whomthey hold God was buried, after He had been slain by the Jews, shecommended me to their care and besought them to deliver me to myfather in Cyprus.
With what honour these gentlemen entreated me and how cheerfully theyreceived me together with their ladies, it were a long story to tell;suffice it to say that we took ship and came, after some days, toBaffa, where finding myself arrived and knowing none in the place, Iknew not what to say to the gentlemen, who would fain have deliveredme to my father, according to that which had been enjoined them of thereverend lady; but God, taking pity belike on my affliction, broughtme Antigonus upon the beach what time we disembarked at Baffa, whom Istraightway hailed and in our tongue, so as not to be understood ofthe gentlemen and their ladies, bade him receive me as a daughter. Hepromptly apprehended me and receiving me with a great show of joy,entertained the gentlemen and their ladies with such honour as hispoverty permitted and carried me to the King of Cyprus, who receivedme with such hospitality and hath sent me back to you [with suchcourtesy] as might never be told of me. If aught remain to be said,let Antigonus, who hath ofttimes heard from me these adventures,recount it.'
Accordingly Antigonus, turning to the Soldan, said, 'My lord, even asshe hath many a time told me and as the gentlemen and ladies, withwhom she came, said to me, so hath she recounted unto you. Only onepart hath she forborne to tell you, the which methinketh she leftunsaid for that it beseemeth her not to tell it, to wit, how much thegentlemen and ladies, with whom she came, said of the chaste andmodest life which she led with the religious ladies and of her virtueand commendable manners and the tears and lamentations of hercompanions, both men and women, when, having restored her to me, theytook leave of her. Of which things were I fain to tell in full thatwhich they said to me, not only this present day, but the ensuingnight would not suffice unto us; be it enough to say only that(according to that which their words attested and that also which Ihave been able to see thereof,) you may vaunt yourself of having thefairest daughter and the chastest and most virtuous of any prince thatnowadays weareth a crown.'
The Soldan was beyond measure rejoiced at these things and besoughtGod again and again to vouchsafe him of His grace the power ofworthily requiting all who had succoured his daughter and especiallythe King of Cyprus, by whom she had been sent back to him with honour.After some days, having caused prepare great gifts for Antigonus, hegave him leave to return to Cyprus and rendered, both by letters andby special ambassadors, the utmost thanks to the king for that whichhe had done with his daughter. Then desiring that that which was begunshould have effect, to wit, that she should be the wife of the King ofAlgarve, he acquainted the latter with the whole matter and wrote tohim to boot, that, an it pleased him have her, he should send for her.The King of Algarve was mightily rejoiced at this news and sending forher in state, received her joyfully; and she, who had lain with eightmen belike ten thousand times, was put to bed to him for a maid andmaking him believe that she was so, lived happily with him as hisqueen awhile after; wherefore it was said, 'Lips for kissing forfeitno favour; nay, they renew as the moon doth ever.'"