THE TENTH STORY

  [Day the Seventh]

  TWO SIENNESE LOVE A LADY, WHO IS GOSSIP TO ONE OF THEM; THE LATTER DIETH AND RETURNING TO HIS COMPANION, ACCORDING TO PROMISE MADE HIM, RELATETH TO HIM HOW FOLK FARE IN THE OTHER WORLD

  It now rested only with the king to tell and he accordingly, as soonas he saw the ladies quieted, who lamented the cutting down of theunoffending pear-tree, began, "It is a very manifest thing that everyjust king should be the first to observe the laws made by him, and anhe do otherwise, he must be adjudged a slave deserving of punishmentand not a king, into which offence and under which reproach I, who amyour king, am in a manner constrained to fall. True it is thatyesterday I laid down the law for to-day's discourses, purposing notthis day to make use of my privilege, but, submitting myself to thesame obligation as you, to discourse of that whereof you have alldiscoursed. However, not only hath that story been told which I hadthought to tell, but so many other and far finer things have been saidupon the matter that, for my part, ransack my memory as I will, I cancall nothing to mind and must avouch myself unable to say aught anentsuch a subject that may compare with those stories which have alreadybeen told. Wherefore, it behoving me transgress against the law madeby myself, I declare myself in advance ready, as one deserving ofpunishment, to submit to any forfeit which may be imposed on me, andso have recourse to my wonted privilege. Accordingly, dearest ladies,I say that Elisa's story of Fra Rinaldo and his gossip and eke thesimplicity of the Siennese have such efficacy that they induce me,letting be the cheats put upon foolish husbands by their wily wives,to tell you a slight story of them,[357] which though it have in it nolittle of that which must not be believed, will natheless in part, atleast, be pleasing to hear.

  [Footnote 357: _i.e._ the Siennese.]

  There were, then, in Siena two young men of the people, whereof onewas called Tingoccio Mini and the other Meuccio di Tura; they abode atPorta Salaja and consorted well nigh never save one with the other. Toall appearance they loved each exceedingly and resorting, as men do,to churches and preachings, they had many a time heard tell of thehappiness and of the misery that are, according to their deserts,allotted in the next world to the souls of those who die; of whichthings desiring to have certain news and finding no way thereto, theypromised one another that whichever of them died first should, an hemight, return to him who abode on life and give him tidings of thatwhich he would fain know; and this they confirmed with an oath. Havingcome to this accord and companying still together, as hath been said,it chanced that Tingoccio became godfather to a child which oneAmbruogio Anselmini, abiding at Campo Reggi, had had of his wife,Mistress Mita by name, and from time to time visiting, together withMeuccio, his gossip who was a very fair and lovesome lady, he became,notwithstanding the gossipship, enamoured of her. Meuccio, on likewise, hearing her mightily commended of his friend and being himselfmuch pleased with her, fell in love with her, and each hid his lovefrom the other, but not for one same reason. Tingoccio was careful notto discover it to Meuccio, on account of the naughty deed whichhimseemed he did to love his gossip and which he had been ashamed thatany should know. Meuccio, on the other hand, kept himselftherefrom,[358] for that he had already perceived that the ladypleased Tingoccio; whereupon he said in himself, 'If I discover thisto him, he will wax jealous of me and being able, as her gossip, tobespeak her at his every pleasure, he will, inasmuch as he may, bringme in ill savour with her, and so I shall never have of her aught thatmay please me.'

  [Footnote 358: _i.e._ from discovering to his friend his liking forthe lady.]

  Things being at this pass, it befell that Tingoccio, having moreleisure of discovering his every desire to the lady, contrived withacts and words so to do that he had his will of her, of which Meucciosoon became aware and albeit it sore misliked him, yet, hoping sometime or other to compass his desire, he feigned ignorance thereof, soTingoccio might not have cause or occasion to do him an ill turn orhinder him in any of his affairs. The two friends loving thus, the onemore happily than the other, it befell that Tingoccio, finding thesoil of his gossip's demesne soft and eath to till, so delved andlaboured there that there overcame him thereof a malady, which aftersome days waxed so heavy upon him that, being unable to brook it, hedeparted this life. The third day after his death (for that belike hehad not before been able) he came by night, according to the promisemade, into Meuccio's chamber and called the latter, who slept fast.Meuccio awoke and said, 'Who art thou?' Whereto he answered, 'I amTingoccio, who, according to the promise which I made thee, am comeback to thee to give thee news of the other world.'

  Meuccio was somewhat affrighted at seeing him; nevertheless, takingheart, 'Thou art welcome, brother mine,' quoth he, and presently askedhim if he were lost. 'Things are lost that are not to be found,'replied Tingoccio; 'and how should I be here, if I were lost?''Alack,' cried Meuccio, 'I say not so; nay, I ask thee if thou artamong the damned souls in the avenging fire of hell.' Whereto quothTingoccio, 'As for that, no; but I am, notwithstanding, in verygrievous and anguishful torment for the sins committed by me.' Meucciothen particularly enquired of him what punishments were awarded in theother world for each of the sins that folk use to commit here below,and he told him them all. After this Meuccio asked if there were aughthe might do for him in this world, whereto Tingoccio replied thatthere was, to wit, that he should let say for him masses and orisonsand do alms in his name, for that these things were mightilyprofitable to those who abode yonder. Meuccio said that he would welland Tingoccio offering to take leave of him, he remembered himself ofthe latter's amour with his gossip and raising his head, said, 'Nowthat I bethink me, Tingoccio, what punishment is given thee overyonder anent thy gossip, with whom thou layest, whenas thou wast herebelow?' 'Brother mine,' answered Tingoccio, 'whenas I came yonder,there was one who it seemed knew all my sins by heart and bade mebetake myself to a certain place, where I bemoaned my offences inexceeding sore punishment and where I found many companions condemnedto the same penance as myself. Being among them and remembering me ofthat which I had done whilere with my gossip, I looked for a muchsorer punishment on account thereof than that which had presently beengiven me and went all shivering for fear, albeit I was in a great fireand an exceeding hot; which one who was by my side perceiving, he saidto me, "What aileth thee more than all the others who are here thatthou shiverest, being in the fire?" "Marry," said I, "my friend, I amsore in fear of the sentence I expect for a grievous sin I wroughtaforetime." The other asked me what sin this was, and I answered, "Itwas that I lay with a gossip of mine, and that with such a vengeancethat it cost me my life"; whereupon quoth he, making merry over myfear, "Go to, fool; have no fear. Here is no manner of account takenof gossips." Which when I heard, I was altogether reassured.' Thissaid and the day drawing near, 'Meuccio,' quoth he, 'abide with God,for I may no longer be with thee,' and was suddenly gone. Meuccio,hearing that no account was taken of gossips in the world to come,began to make mock of his own simplicity, for that whiles he hadspared several of them; wherefore, laying by his ignorance, he becamewiser in that respect for the future. Which things if Fra Rinaldo hadknown, he had not needed to go a-syllogizing,[359] whenas he convertedhis good gossip to his pleasure."

  [Footnote 359: Or, in modern parlance, logic-chopping(_sillogizzando_).]

  * * * * *

  Zephyr was now arisen, for the sun that drew near unto the setting,when the king, having made an end of his story and there being noneother left to tell, put off the crown from his own head and set it onthat of Lauretta, saying, "Madam, with yourself[360] I crown youqueen of our company; do you then, from this time forth, as sovereignlady, command that which you may deem shall be for the pleasure andsolacement of all." This said, he reseated himself, whereuponLauretta, become queen, let call the seneschal and bade him look thatthe tables be set in the pleasant valley somewhat earlier than ofwont, so they might return to the palace at their leisure; after whichshe instructed him what he should do what
while her sovranty lasted.Then, turning to the company, she said, "Dioneo willed yesterday thatwe should discourse to-day of the tricks that women play theirhusbands and but that I am loath to show myself of the tribe ofsnappish curs, which are fain incontinent to avenge themselves of anyaffront done them, I would say that to-morrow's discourse should be ofthe tricks that men play their wives. But, letting that be, I ordainthat each bethink himself to tell OF THE TRICKS THAT ALL DAY LONGWOMEN PLAY MEN OR MEN WOMEN OR MEN ONE ANOTHER; and I doubt not butthat in this[361] there will be no less of pleasant discourse thanthere hath been to-day." So saying, she rose to her feet and dismissedthe company till supper-time.

  [Footnote 360: _i.e._ with that whereof you bear the name, _i.e._laurel (_laurea_).]

  [Footnote 361: Or "on this subject" (_in questo_).]

  Accordingly, they all, ladies and men alike, arose and some began togo barefoot through the clear water, whilst others went a-pleasuringupon the greensward among the straight and goodly trees. Dioneo andFiammetta sang together a great while of Arcite and Palemon, and onthis wise, taking various and divers delights, they passed the timewith the utmost satisfaction until the hour of supper; which beingcome, they seated themselves at table beside the lakelet and there, tothe song of a thousand birds, still refreshed by a gentle breeze, thatcame from the little hills around, and untroubled of any fly, theysupped in peace and cheer. Then, the tables being removed and the sunbeing yet half-vespers[362] high, after they had gone awhile roundabout the pleasant valley, they wended their way again, even as itpleased their queen, with slow steps towards their wonteddwelling-place, and jesting and chattering a thousand things, as wellof those whereof it had been that day discoursed as of others, theycame near upon nightfall to the fair palace, where having with thecoolest of wines and confections done away the fatigues of the littlejourney, they presently fell to dancing about the fair fountain,carolling[363] now to the sound of Tindaro's bagpipe and anon to thatof other instruments. But, after awhile, the queen bade Filomena singa song, whereupon she began thus:

  [Footnote 362: _Quaere_, "half-complines," _i.e._ half-past seven p.m."Half-vespers" would be half-past four, which seems too early.]

  [Footnote 363: _Carolando_, _i.e._ dancing in a round and singing thewhile, the original meaning of our word "carol."]

  Alack, my life forlorn! Will't ever chance I may once more regain Th' estate whence sorry fortune hath me torn?

  Certes, I know not, such a wish of fire I carry in my thought To find me where, alas! I was whilere. O dear my treasure, thou my sole desire, That holdst my heart distraught. Tell it me, thou; for whom I know nor dare To ask it otherwhere. Ah, dear my lord, oh, cause me hope again, So I may comfort me my spright wayworn.

  What was the charm I cannot rightly tell That kindled in me such A flame of love that rest nor day nor night I find; for, by some strong unwonted spell, Hearing and touch And seeing each new fires in me did light, Wherein I burn outright; Nor other than thyself can soothe my pain Nor call my senses back, by love o'erborne.

  O tell me if and when, then, it shall be That I shall find thee e'er Whereas I kissed those eyes that did me slay. O dear my good, my soul, ah, tell it me, When thou wilt come back there, And saying "Quickly," comfort my dismay Somedele. Short be the stay Until thou come, and long mayst thou remain! I'm so love-struck, I reck not of men's scorn.

  If once again I chance to hold thee aye, I will not be so fond As erst I was to suffer thee to fly; Nay, fast I'll hold thee, hap of it what may, And having thee in bond, Of thy sweet mouth my lust I'll satisfy. Now of nought else will I Discourse. Quick, to thy bosom come me strain; The sheer thought bids me sing like lark at morn.

  This song caused all the company conclude that a new and pleasing loveheld Filomena in bonds, and as by the words it appeared that she hadtasted more thereof than sight alone, she was envied of this bycertain who were there and who held her therefor so much the happier.But, after her song was ended, the queen, remembering her that theensuing day was Friday, thus graciously bespoke all, "You know, nobleladies and you also, young men, that to-morrow is the day consecratedto the passion of our Lord, the which, an you remember aright, whattime Neifile was queen, we celebrated devoutly and therein gave pauseto our delightsome discoursements, and on like wise we did with thefollowing Saturday. Wherefore, being minded to follow the good examplegiven us by Neifile, I hold it seemly that to-morrow and the next daywe abstain, even as we did a week agone, from our pleasantstory-telling, recalling to memory that which on those days befellwhilere for the salvation of our souls." The queen's pious speech waspleasing unto all and a good part of the night being now past, theyall, dismissed by her, betook them to repose.

  HERE ENDETH THE SEVENTH DAYOF THE DECAMERON