The Decameron, Volume II
"'twill be my part to fashion in tin animage of him you would fain lure back to you: and when I have sent youthe image, 'twill be for you, when the moon is well on the wane, to dipyourself, being stark naked, and the image, seven times in a flowingstream, and this you must do quite alone about the hour of first sleep,and afterwards, still naked, you must get you upon some tree or somedeserted house, and facing the North, with the image in your hand, saycertain words that I shall give you in writing seven times; which, whenyou have done, there will come to you two damsels, the fairest you eversaw, who will greet you graciously, and ask of you what you would fainhave; to whom you will disclose frankly and fully all that you crave; andsee to it that you make no mistake in the name; and when you have saidall, they will depart, and you may then descend and return to the spotwhere you left your clothes, and resume them and go home. And restassured, that before the ensuing midnight your lover will come to you intears, and crave your pardon and mercy, and that thenceforth he willnever again desert you for any other woman."
The lady gave entire credence to the scholar's words, and deeming herlover as good as in her arms again, recovered half her wonted spirits:wherefore:--"Make no doubt," quoth she, "that I shall do as thou biddest;and indeed I am most favoured by circumstance; for in upper Val d'Arno Ihave an estate adjoining the river, and 'tis now July, so that to bathewill be delightful. Ay, and now I mind me that at no great distance fromthe river there is a little tower, which is deserted, save that now andagain the shepherds will get them up by the chestnut-wood ladder to theroof, thence to look out for their strayed sheep; 'tis a place lonelyindeed, and quite out of ken; and when I have clomb it, as climb it Iwill, I doubt not 'twill be the best place in all the world to giveeffect to your instructions."
Well pleased to be certified of the lady's intention, the scholar, towhom her estate and the tower were very well known, made answer:--"I wasnever in those parts, Madam, and therefore know neither your estate northe tower, but, if 'tis as you say, 'twill certainly be the best place inthe world for your purpose. So, when time shall serve, I will send youthe image and the orison. But I pray you, when you shall have yourheart's desire, and know that I have done you good service, do not forgetme, but keep your promise to me." "That will I without fail," quoth thelady; and so she bade him farewell, and went home. The scholar, gleefullyanticipating the success of his enterprise, fashioned an image, andinscribed it with certain magical signs, and wrote some gibberish by wayof orison, which in due time he sent to the lady, bidding her the verynext night do as he had prescribed: and thereupon he hied him privilywith one of his servants to the house of a friend hard by the tower,there to carry his purpose into effect. The lady, on her part, set outwith her maid, and betook her to her estate, and, night being come, sentthe maid to bed, as if she were minded to go to rest herself; and aboutthe hour of first sleep stole out of the house and down to the tower,beside the Arno; and when, having carefully looked about her, she wassatisfied that never a soul was to be seen or heard, she took off herclothes and hid them under a bush; then, with the image in her hand, shedipped herself seven times in the river; which done, she hied her withthe image to the tower. The scholar, having at nightfall couched himselfwith his servant among the willows and other trees that fringed the bank,marked all that she did, and how, as she passed by him, the whiteness ofher flesh dispelled the shades of night, and scanning attentively herbosom and every other part of her body, and finding them very fair, felt,as he bethought him what would shortly befall them, some pity of her;while, on the other hand, he was suddenly assailed by the solicitationsof the flesh which caused that to stand which had been inert, andprompted him to sally forth of his ambush and take her by force, and havehis pleasure of her. And, what with his compassion and passion, he waslike to be worsted; but then as he bethought him who he was, and what agrievous wrong had been done him, and for what cause, and by whom, hiswrath, thus rekindled, got the better of the other affections, so that heswerved not from his resolve, but suffered her to go her way.
The lady ascended the tower, and standing with her face to the North,began to recite the scholar's orison, while he, having stolen into thetower but a little behind her, cautiously shifted the ladder that led upto the roof on which the lady stood, and waited to observe what she wouldsay and do. Seven times the lady said the orison, and then awaited theappearance of the two damsels; and so long had she to wait--not tomention that the night was a good deal cooler than she would haveliked--that she saw day break; whereupon, disconcerted that it had notfallen out as the scholar had promised, she said to herself:--I misdoubtme he was minded to give me such a night as I gave him; but if such washis intent, he is but maladroit in his revenge, for this night is not aslong by a third as his was, besides which, the cold is of anotherquality. And that day might not overtake her there, she began to think ofdescending, but, finding that the ladder was removed, she felt as if theworld had come to nought beneath her feet, her senses reeled, and shefell in a swoon upon the floor of the roof. When she came to herself, sheburst into tears and piteous lamentations, and witting now very well that'twas the doing of the scholar, she began to repent her that she hadfirst offended him, and then trusted him unduly, having such good causeto reckon upon his enmity; in which frame she abode long time. Then,searching if haply she might find some means of descent, and findingnone, she fell a weeping again, and bitterly to herself she said:--Alasfor thee, wretched woman! what will thy brothers, thy kinsmen, thyneighbours, nay, what will all Florence say of thee, when 'tis known thatthou hast been found here naked? Thy honour, hitherto unsuspect, will beknown to have been but a shew, and shouldst thou seek thy defence inlying excuses, if any such may be fashioned, the accursed scholar, whoknows all thy doings, will not suffer it. Ah! poor wretch! that at oneand the same time hast lost thy too dearly cherished gallant and thineown honour! And therewith she was taken with such a transport of grief,that she was like to cast herself from the tower to the ground. Then,bethinking her that if she might espy some lad making towards the towerwith his sheep, she might send him for her maid, for the sun was nowrisen, she approached one of the parapets of the tower, and looked out,and so it befell that the scholar, awakening from a slumber, in which hehad lain a while at the foot of a bush, espied her, and she him.Whereupon:--"Good-day, Madam," quoth he:--"are the damsels yet come?" Thelady saw and heard him not without bursting afresh into a flood of tears,and besought him to come into the tower, that she might speak with him: arequest which the scholar very courteously granted. The lady then threwherself prone on the floor of the roof; and, only her head being visiblethrough the aperture, thus through her sobs she spoke:--"Verily, Rinieri,if I gave thee a bad night, thou art well avenged on me, for, though itbe July, meseemed I was sore a cold last night, standing here with nevera thread upon me, and, besides, I have so bitterly bewept both the trickI played thee and my own folly in trusting thee, that I marvel that Ihave still eyes in my head. Wherefore I implore thee, not for love of me,whom thou hast no cause to love, but for the respect thou hast forthyself as a gentleman, that thou let that which thou hast already donesuffice thee to avenge the wrong I did thee, and bring me my clothes,that I may be able to get me down from here, and spare to take from methat which, however thou mightst hereafter wish, thou couldst not restoreto me, to wit, my honour; whereas, if I deprived thee of that one nightwith me, 'tis in my power to give thee many another night in recompensethereof, and thou hast but to choose thine own times. Let this, then,suffice, and like a worthy gentleman be satisfied to have taken thyrevenge, and to have let me know it: put not forth thy might against awoman: 'tis no glory to the eagle to have vanquished a dove; whereforefor God's and thine own honour's sake have mercy on me."
The scholar, albeit his haughty spirit still brooded on her evilentreatment of him, yet saw her not weep and supplicate without a certaincompunction mingling with his exultation; but vengeance he had desiredabove all things, to have wreaked it was indeed sweet, and albeit hishumanity prompted him to have compassion on the ha
pless woman, yet itavailed not to subdue the fierceness of his resentment; wherefore thus hemade answer:--"Madam Elena, had my prayers (albeit art I had none tomingle with them tears and honeyed words as thou dost with thine)inclined thee that night, when I stood perishing with cold amid the snowthat filled thy courtyard, to accord me the very least shelter, 'twerebut a light matter for me to hearken now to thine; but, if thou art nowso much more careful of thy honour than thou wast wont to be, and it irksthee to tarry there naked, address thy prayers to him in whose arms itirked thee not naked to pass that night thou mindest thee of, albeit thouwist that I with hasty foot was beating time upon the snow in thycourtyard to the accompaniment of chattering teeth: 'tis he that thoushouldst call to succour thee, to fetch thy