_Day the Fourth_
HERE BEGINNETH THE FOURTH DAY OF THE DECAMERON WHEREIN UNDER THE GOVERNANCE OF FILOSTRATO IS DISCOURSED OF THOSE WHOSE LOVES HAVE HAD UNHAPPY ENDINGS
Dearest ladies, as well by words of wise men heard as by things many atime both seen and read of myself, I had conceived that the boisterousand burning blast of envy was apt to smite none but lofty towers orthe highest summits of the trees; but I find myself mistaken in myconceit, for that, fleeing, as I have still studied to flee, from thecruel onslaught of that raging wind, I have striven to go, not only inthe plains, but in the very deepest of the valleys, as many manifestlyenough appear to whoso considereth these present stories, the whichhave been written by me, not only in vulgar Florentine and in proseand without [author's] name, but eke in as humble and sober a style asmight be. Yet for all this have I not availed to escape being cruellyshaken, nay, well nigh uprooted, of the aforesaid wind and all torn ofthe fangs of envy; wherefore I can very manifestly understand that tobe true which the wise use to say, to wit, that misery alone in thingspresent is without envy.[212]
[Footnote 212: Sic (_senza invidia_); but the meaning is that miseryalone is without _enviers_.]
There are then, discreet ladies, some who, reading these stories, havesaid that you please me overmuch and that it is not a seemly thingthat I should take so much delight in pleasuring and solacing you; andsome have said yet worse of commending you as I do. Others, making ashow of wishing to speak more maturely, have said that it sorteth illwith mine age henceforth to follow after things of this kind, to wit,to discourse of women or to study to please them. And many, feigningthemselves mighty tender of my repute, avouch that I should do morewisely to abide with the Muses on Parnassus than to busy myself amongyou with these toys. Again, there be some who, speaking moredespitefully than advisedly, have said that I should do morediscreetly to consider whence I might get me bread than to go peddlingafter these baubles, feeding upon wind; and certain others, indisparagement of my pains, study to prove the things recounted by meto have been otherwise than as I present them to you.
With such, then, and so many blusterings,[213] such atrociousbackbitings, such needle-pricks, noble ladies, am I, what while Ibattle in your service, baffled and buffeted and transfixed even tothe quick. The which things, God knoweth, I hear and apprehend with anuntroubled mind; and albeit my defence in this pertaineth altogetherunto you, natheless, I purpose not to spare mine own pains; nay,without answering so much [at large] as it might behove, I mean to ridmine ears of them with some slight rejoinder, and that without delay;for that if even now, I being not yet come to[214] the third part ofmy travail, they[215] are many and presume amain, I opine that, ere Icome to the end thereof, they may, having had no rebuff at the first,on such wise be multiplied that with whatsoever little pains of theirsthey might overthrow me, nor might your powers, great though they be,avail to withstand this.
[Footnote 213: _i.e._ blasts of calumny.]
[Footnote 214: _i.e._ having not yet accomplished.]
[Footnote 215: _i.e._ my censors.]
But, ere I come to make answer to any of them, it pleaseth me, in mineown defence, to relate, not an entire story,--lest it should seem Iwould fain mingle mine own stories with those of so commendable acompany as that which I have presented to you,--but a part ofone,--that so its very default [of completeness] may attest that it isnone of those,--and accordingly, speaking to my assailants, I say thatin our city, a good while agone, there was a townsman, by name FilippoBalducci, a man of mean enough extraction, but rich and well addressedand versed in such matters as his condition comported. He had a wife,whom he loved with an exceeding love, as she him, and they lived apeaceful life together, studying nothing so much as wholly to pleaseone another. In course of time it came to pass, as it cometh to passof all, that the good lady departed this life and left Filippo noughtof herself but one only son, begotten of him and maybe two years old.Filippo for the death of his lady abode as disconsolate as ever manmight, having lost a beloved one, and seeing himself left alone andforlorn of that company which most he loved, he resolved to be no moreof the world, but to give himself altogether to the service of God anddo the like with his little son. Wherefore, bestowing all his good forthe love of God,[216] he repaired without delay to the top of MountAsinajo, where he took up his abode with his son in a little hut andthere living with him upon alms, in the practice of fasts and prayers,straitly guarded himself from discoursing whereas the boy was, of anytemporal thing, neither suffered him see aught thereof, lest thisshould divert him from the service aforesaid, but still bespoke him ofthe glories of life eternal and of God and the saints, teaching himnought but pious orisons; and in this way of life he kept him manyyears, never suffering him go forth of the hermitage nor showing himaught other than himself.
[Footnote 216: _i.e._ in alms.]
Now the good man was used to come whiles into Florence, where beingsuccoured, according to his occasions, of the friends of God, hereturned to his hut, and it chanced one day that, his son being noweighteen years old and Filippo an old man, the lad asked him whitherhe went. Filippo told him and the boy said, "Father mine, you are nowan old man and can ill endure fatigue; why do you not whiles carry meto Florence and bring me to know the friends and devotees of God andyourself, to the end that I, who am young and better able to toil thanyou, may after, whenas it pleaseth you, go to Florence for ouroccasions, whilst you abide here?" The worthy man, considering thathis son was now grown to man's estate and thinking him so inured tothe service of God that the things of this world might thenceforthuneath allure him to themselves, said in himself, "The lad saithwell"; and accordingly, having occasion to go thither, he carried himwith him. There the youth, seeing the palaces, the houses, thechurches and all the other things whereof one seeth all the city full,began, as one who had never to his recollection beheld the like, tomarvel amain and questioned his father of many things what they wereand how they were called. Filippo told him and he, hearing him, abodecontent and questioned of somewhat else.
As they went thus, the son asking and the father answering, theyencountered by chance a company of pretty and well-dressed youngwomen, coming from a wedding, whom as soon as the young man saw, heasked his father what manner of things these were. "My son," answeredFilippo, "cast your eyes on the ground and look not at them, for thatthey are an ill thing." Quoth the son, "And how are they called?" Thefather, not to awaken in the lad's mind a carnal appetite less thanuseful, would not name them by the proper name, to wit, women, butsaid, "They are called green geese." Whereupon, marvellous to relate,he who have never seen a woman and who recked not of palaces nor oxennor horses nor asses nor monies nor of aught else he had seen, saidsuddenly, "Father mine, I prithee get me one of these green geese.""Alack, my son," replied the father, "hold they peace; I tell theethey are an ill thing." "How!" asked the youth. "Are ill things thenmade after this fashion?" and Filippo answered, "Ay." Then said theson, "I know not what you would say nor why these are an ill thing;for my part, meseemeth I never yet saw aught goodly or pleasing as arethese. They are fairer than the painted angels you have shown mewhiles. For God's sake, an you reck of me, contrive that we may carryone of yonder green geese back with us up yonder, and I will give itto eat." "Nay," answered the father, "I will not: thou knowest notwhereon they feed." And he understood incontinent that nature wasstronger than his wit and repented him of having brought the youth toFlorence. But I will have it suffice me to have told this much of thepresent story and return to those for whose behoof I have related it.
Some, then, of my censurers say that I do ill, young ladies, instudying overmuch to please you and that you please me overmuch. Whichthings I do most openly confess, to wit, that you please me and that Istudy to please you, and I ask them if they marvel thereat,--considering(let be the having known the dulcet kisses and amorous embracementsand delightsome couplings that are of you, most sweet ladies, oftengotten) only my having seen and still seeing your dainty manners an
dlovesome beauty and sprightly grace and above all your womanlycourtesy,--whenas he who had been reared and bred on a wild andsolitary mountain and within the bounds of a little cell, withoutother company than his father, no sooner set eyes on you than youalone were desired of him, you alone sought, you alone followed withthe eagerness of passion. Will they, then, blame me, back bite me,rend me with their tongues if I, whose body Heaven created all apt tolove you, I, who from my childhood vowed my soul to you, feeling thepotency of the light of your eyes and the sweetness of your honeyedwords and the flame enkindled by your piteous sighs,--if, I say, youplease me or if I study to please you, seeing that you over all elsepleased a hermitling, a lad without understanding, nay, rather, a wildanimal? Certes, it is only those, who, having neither sense norcognizance of the pleasures and potency of natural affection, love younot nor desire to be loved of you, that chide me thus; and of these Ireck little.
As for those who go railing anent mine age, it would seem they knowill that, for all the leek hath a white head, the tail thereof isgreen. But to these, laying aside pleasantry, I answer that never, no,not to the extreme limit of my life, shall I repute it to myself forshame to seek to please those whom Guido Cavalcanti and DanteAlighieri, when already stricken in years, and Messer Cino da Pistoja,when a very old man, held in honour and whose approof was dear tothem. And were it not to depart from the wonted usance of discourse, Iwould cite history in support and show it to be all full of stories ofancient and noble men who in their ripest years have still above allstudied to please the ladies, the which an they know not, let them golearn. That I should abide with the Muses on Parnassus, I confess tobe good counsel; but, since we can neither abide for ever with theMuses, nor they with us, it is nothing blameworthy if, whenas itchanceth a man is parted from them, he take delight in seeing thatwhich is like unto them. The muses are women, and albeit women may notavail to match with them, yet at first sight they have a semblance ofthem; insomuch that, an they pleased me not for aught else, for thisthey should please me; more by token that women have aforetime been tome the occasion of composing a thousand verses, whereas the Musesnever were to me the occasion of making any. They aided me, indeed,and showed me how to compose the verses in question; and peradventure,in the writing of these present things, all lowly though they be, theyhave come whiles to abide with me, in token maybe and honour of thelikeness that women bear to them; wherefore, in inditing these toys, Istray not so far from Mount Parnassus nor from the Muses as manybelike conceive.
But what shall we say to those who have such compassion on my hungerthat they counsel me provide myself bread? Certes, I know not, savethat, whenas I seek to imagine in myself what would be their answer,an I should of necessity beseech them thereof, to wit, of bread,methinketh they would reply, "Go seek it among thy fables." Indeed,aforetime poets have found more thereof among their fables than many arich man among his treasures, and many, following after their fables,have caused their age to flourish; whereas, on the contrary, many, inseeking to have more bread than they needed, have perished miserably.What more [shall I say?] Let them drive me forth, whenas I ask it ofthem, not that, Godamercy, I have yet need thereof; and even shouldneed betide, I know with the Apostle Paul both how to abound andsuffer need;[217] wherefore let none be more careful of me than I amof myself. For those who say that these things have not been such as Ihave here set them down, I would fain have them produce the originals,and an these latter accord not with that of which I write, I willconfess their objection for just and will study to amend myself; buttill otherwhat than words appeareth, I will leave them to theiropinion and follow mine own, saying of them that which they say of me.
[Footnote 217: "I know both how to be abased and I know how to abound;everywhere and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to behungry, both to abound and suffer need."--_Philippians_ iv. 12.]
Wherefore, deeming that for the nonce I have answered enough, I saythat, armed, as I hope to be, with God's aid and yours, gentlestladies, and with fair patience, I will fare on with this that I havebegun, turning my back to the wind aforesaid and letting it blow, forthat I see not that aught can betide me other than that which betideththin dust, the which a whirlwind, whenas it bloweth, either stirrethnot from the earth, or, an it stir it, carrieth it aloft and leavethit oftentimes upon the heads of men and upon the crowns of kings andemperors, nay, bytimes upon high palaces and lofty towers, whence anit fall, it cannot go lower than the place wherefrom it was uplifted.And if ever with all my might I vowed myself to seek to please you inaught, now more than ever shall I address myself thereto; for that Iknow none can with reason say otherwhat than that I and others wholove you do according to nature, whose laws to seek to gainstanddemandeth overgreat strength, and oftentimes not only in vain, but tothe exceeding hurt of whoso striveth to that end, is this strengthemployed. Such strength I confess I have not nor ever desired in thisto have; and an I had it, I had liefer lend it to others than use itfor myself. Wherefore, let the carpers be silent and an they avail notto warm themselves, let them live star-stricken[218] and abiding intheir delights--or rather their corrupt appetites,--leave me to abidein mine for this brief life that is appointed me. But now, fairladies, for that we have strayed enough, needs must we return whencewe set out and ensue the ordinance commenced.
[Footnote 218: _i.e._ benumbed (_assiderati_).]
The sun had already banished every star from the sky and had drivenfrom the earth the humid vapours of the night, when Filostrato,arising, caused all his company arise and with them betook himself tothe fair garden, where they all proceeded to disport themselves, andthe eating-hour come, they dined whereas they had supped on theforegoing evening. Then, after having slept, what time the sun was atits highest, they seated themselves, after the wonted fashion, hard bythe fair fountain, and Filostrato bade Fiammetta give beginning to thestory-telling; whereupon, without awaiting further commandment, shebegan with womanly grace as follows: