him:--"Whence and whose son art thou?" Theserjeants, that were leading him, paused in deference to the great man,and so Pietro answered:--"Of Armenia was I, son of one Fineo, broughthither by folk I wot not of, when I was but a little child." Then Fineo,witting that in very truth 'twas the boy that he had lost, came down withhis companions, weeping; and, all the serjeants making way, he ran tohim, and embraced him, and doffing a mantle of richest texture that hewore, he prayed the captain of the band to be pleased to tarry thereuntil he should receive orders to go forward, and was answered by thecaptain that he would willingly so wait.
Fineo already knew, for 'twas bruited everywhere, the cause for whichPietro was being led to the gallows; wherefore he straightway hied himwith his companions and their retinue to Messer Currado, and said tohim:--"Sir, this lad, whom you are sending to the gallows like a slave,is freeborn, and my son, and is ready to take to wife her whom, as 'tissaid, he has deflowered; so please you, therefore, delay the executionuntil such time as it may be understood whether she be minded to have himfor husband, lest, should she be so minded, you be found to have brokenthe law." Messer Currado marvelled to hear that Pietro was Fineo's son,and not without shame, albeit 'twas not his but Fortune's fault,confessed that 'twas even as Fineo said: and having caused Pietro to betaken home with all speed, and Messer Amerigo to be brought before him,told him the whole matter. Messer Amerigo, who supposed that by this timehis daughter and grandson must be dead, was the saddest man in the worldto think that 'twas by his deed, witting that, were the damsel stillalive, all might very easily be set right: however, he sent post haste tohis daughter's abode, revoking his orders, if they were not yet carriedout. The servant, whom he had earlier despatched, had laid the sword andpoison before the damsel, and, for that she was in no hurry to make herchoice, was giving her foul words, and endeavouring to constrain herthereto, when the messenger arrived; but on hearing the injunction laidupon him by his lord, he desisted, and went back, and told him how thingsstood. Whereupon Messer Amerigo, much relieved, hied him to Fineo, andwell-nigh weeping, and excusing himself for what had befallen, as best heknew how, craved his pardon, and professed himself well content to giveTeodoro, so he were minded to have her, his daughter to wife. Fineoreadily accepted his excuses, and made answer:--"'Tis my will that my sonespouse your daughter, and, so he will not, let thy sentence passed uponhim be carried out."
So Fineo and Messer Amerigo being agreed, while Teodoro still languishedin fear of death, albeit he was glad at heart to have found his father,they questioned him of his will in regard of this matter.
When he heard that, if he would, he might have Violante to wife,Teodoro's delight was such that he seemed to leap from hell to paradise,and said that, if 'twas agreeable to them all, he should deem it thegreatest of favours. So they sent to the damsel to learn her pleasure:who, having heard how it had fared, and was now like to fare, withTeodoro, albeit, saddest of women, she looked for nought but death, beganat length to give some credence to their words, and to recover heart alittle, and answered that, were she to follow the bent of her desire,nought that could happen would delight her more than to be Teodoro'swife; but nevertheless she would do as her father bade her.
So, all agreeing, the damsel was espoused with all pomp and festal cheer,to the boundless delight of all the citizens, and was comforted, andnurtured her little boy, and in no long time waxed more beautiful thanever before; and, her confinement being ended, she presented herselfbefore Fineo, who was then about to quit Rome on his homeward journey,and did him such reverence as is due to a father. Fineo, mighty wellpleased to have so fair a daughter-in-law, caused celebrate her nuptialsmost bravely and gaily, and received, and did ever thereafter entreat,her as his daughter.
And so he took her, not many days after the festivities were ended, withhis son and little grandson, aboard a galley, and brought them toLazistan, and there thenceforth the two lovers dwelt with him in easefuland lifelong peace.
NOVEL VIII.
--Nastagio degli Onesti, loving a damsel of the Traversari family, bylavish expenditure gains not her love. At the instance of his kinsfolk hehies him to Chiassi, where he sees a knight hunt a damsel and slay herand cause her to be devoured by two dogs. He bids his kinsfolk and thelady that he loves to breakfast. During the meal the said damsel is tornin pieces before the eyes of the lady, who, fearing a like fate, takesNastagio to husband.--
Lauretta was no sooner silent than thus at the queen's behest beganFilomena:--Sweet ladies, as in us pity has ever its meed of praise, evenso Divine justice suffers not our cruelty to escape severe chastisement:the which that I may shew you, and thereby dispose you utterly to banishthat passion from your souls, I am minded to tell you a story no lesstouching than delightsome.
In Ravenna, that most ancient city of Romagna, there dwelt of yorenoblemen and gentlemen not a few, among whom was a young man, Nastagiodegli Onesti by name, who by the death of his father and one of hisuncles inherited immense wealth. Being without a wife, Nastagio, as 'tisthe way with young men, became enamoured of a daughter of Messer PaoloTraversaro, a damsel of much higher birth than his, whose love he hopedto win by gifts and the like modes of courting, which, albeit they wereexcellent and fair and commendable, not only availed him not, but seemedrather to have the contrary effect, so harsh and ruthless and unrelentingdid the beloved damsel shew herself towards him; for whether it was heruncommon beauty or her noble lineage that puffed her up, so haughty anddisdainful was she grown that pleasure she had none either in him or inaught that pleased him. The burden of which disdain Nastagio found sohard to bear, that many a time, when he had made his moan, he longed tomake away with himself. However he refrained therefrom, and many a timeresolved to give her up altogether, or, if so he might, to hold her indespite, as she did him: but 'twas all in vain, for it seemed as if, themore his hope dwindled, the greater grew his love. And, as thus hecontinued, loving and spending inordinately, certain of his kinsfolk andfriends, being apprehensive lest he should waste both himself and hissubstance, did many a time counsel and beseech him to depart Ravenna, andgo tarry for a time elsewhere, that so he might at once cool his flameand reduce his charges. For a long while Nastagio answered theiradmonitions with banter; but as they continued to ply him with them, hegrew weary of saying no so often, and promised obedience. Whereupon heequipped himself as if for a journey to France or Spain, or other distantparts, got on horseback and sallied forth of Ravenna, accompanied by nota few of his friends, and being come to a place called Chiassi, aboutthree miles from Ravenna, he halted, and having sent for tents andpavilions, told his companions that there he meant to stay, and theymight go back to Ravenna. So Nastagio pitched his camp, and therecommenced to live after as fine and lordly a fashion as did ever any man,bidding divers of his friends from time to time to breakfast or sup withhim, as he had been wont to do. Now it so befell that about the beginningof May, the season being very fine, he fell a brooding on the cruelty ofhis mistress, and, that his meditations might be the less disturbed, hebade all his servants leave him, and sauntered slowly, wrapt in thought,as far as the pinewood. Which he had threaded for a good half-mile, when,the fifth hour of the day being well-nigh past, yet he recking neither offood nor of aught else, 'twas as if he heard a woman wailing exceedinglyand uttering most piercing shrieks: whereat, the train of his sweetmelancholy being broken, he raised his head to see what was toward, andwondered to find himself in the pinewood; and saw, moreover, before himrunning through a grove, close set with underwood and brambles, towardsthe place where he was, a damsel most comely, stark naked, her hairdishevelled, and her flesh all torn by the briers and brambles, who weptand cried piteously for mercy; and at her flanks he saw two mastiffs,exceeding great and fierce, that ran hard upon her track, and not seldomcame up with her and bit her cruelly; and in the rear he saw, riding ablack horse, a knight sadly accoutred, and very wrathful of mien,carrying a rapier in his hand, and with despiteful, blood-curdling wordsthreatening her with death. Whereat he was at once amazed and appalled,and
then filled with compassion for the hapless lady, whereof was bred adesire to deliver her, if so he might, from such anguish and peril ofdeath. Wherefore, as he was unarmed, he ran and took in lieu of a cudgela branch of a tree, with which he prepared to encounter the dogs and theknight. Which the knight observing, called to him before he was come toclose quarters, saying:--"Hold off, Nastagio, leave the dogs and me aloneto deal with this vile woman as she has deserved." And, even as he spoke,the dogs gripped the damsel so hard on either flank that they arrestedher flight, and the knight, being come up, dismounted. Whom Nastagioapproached, saying:--"I know not who thou art, that knowest me so well,but thus much I tell thee: 'tis a gross outrage for an armed knight to goabout to kill a naked woman, and set his dogs upon her as if she were awild beast: rest assured that I shall do all I can to