The Decameron, Volume II

be of happy augury, so that she began to take hope, she knewnot why, and to grow somewhat less fain of death: wherefore withoutdisclosing who or whence she was, she earnestly besought the good womanfor the love of God to have pity on her youth, and advise her how best toavoid insult. Whereupon Carapresa, good woman that she was, left her inher hut, while with all speed she picked up her nets; and on her returnshe wrapped her in her own mantle, and led her to Susa. Arrived there,she said to her:--"Gostanza, I shall bring thee to the house of anexcellent Saracen lady, for whom I frequently do bits of work, as she hasoccasion: she is an old lady and compassionate: I will commend thee toher care as best I may, and I doubt not she will right gladly receivethee, and entreat thee as her daughter: and thou wilt serve her, and,while thou art with her, do all thou canst to gain her favour, until suchtime as God may send thee better fortune;" and as she said, so she did.

  The old lady listened, and then, gazing steadfastly in the damsel's face,shed tears, and taking her hand, kissed her forehead, and led her intothe house, where she and some other women dwelt quite by themselves,doing divers kinds of handiwork in silk and palm leaves and leather.Wherein the damsel in a few days acquired some skill, and thenceforthwrought together with them; and rose wondrous high in the favour and goodgraces of all the ladies, who soon taught her their language.

  Now while the damsel, mourned at home as lost and dead, dwelt thus atSusa, it so befell that, Mariabdela being then King of Tunis, a youngchieftain in Granada, of great power, and backed by mighty allies, gaveout that the realm of Tunis belonged to him, and having gathered a vastarmy, made a descent upon Tunis with intent to expel the King from therealm. Martuccio Gomito, who knew the language of Barbary well, heard thetidings in prison, and learning that the King of Tunis was mustering amighty host for the defence of his kingdom, said to one of the wardersthat were in charge of him and his comrades:--"If I might have speech ofthe King, I am confident that the advice that I should give him wouldsecure him the victory." The warder repeated these words to his chief,who forthwith carried them to the King. Wherefore by the King's commandMartuccio was brought before him, and being asked by him what the advice,of which he had spoken, might be, answered on this wise:--"Sire, if inold days, when I was wont to visit this country of yours, I duly observedthe manner in which you order your battle, methinks you place your mainreliance upon archers; and therefore, if you could contrive that yourenemy's supply of arrows should give out and your own continue plentiful,I apprehend that you would win the battle." "Ay indeed," replied theKing, "I make no doubt that, could I but accomplish that, I shouldconquer." "Nay but, Sire," returned Martuccio, "you may do it, if youwill. Listen, and I will tell you how. You must fit the bows of yourarchers with strings much finer than those that are in common use, andmatch them with arrows, the notches of which will not admit any but thesefine strings; and this you must do so secretly that your enemy may notknow it, else he will find means to be even with you. Which counsel Igive you for the following reason:--When your and your enemy's archershave expended all their arrows, you wot that the enemy will fall topicking up the arrows that your men have shot during the battle, and yourmen will do the like by the enemy's arrows; but the enemy will not beable to make use of your men's arrows, by reason that their fine notcheswill not suffice to admit the stout strings, whereas your men will be inthe contrary case in regard of the enemy's arrows, for the fine stringwill very well receive the large-notched arrow, and so your men will havean abundant supply of arrows, while the enemy will be at a loss forthem."

  The King, who lacked not sagacity, appreciated Martuccio's advice, andgave full effect to it; whereby he came out of the war a conqueror, andMartuccio, being raised to the chief place in his favour, waxed rich andpowerful. Which matters being bruited throughout the country, it came tothe ears of Gostanza that Martuccio Gomito, whom she had long supposed tobe dead, was alive; whereby her love for him, some embers of which stilllurked in her heart, burst forth again in sudden flame, and gatheredstrength, and revived her dead hope. Wherefore she frankly told all hercase to the good lady with whom she dwelt, saying that she would fain goto Tunis, that her eyes might have assurance of that which the reportreceived by her ears had made them yearn to see. The lady fell heartilyin with the girl's desire, and, as if she had been her mother, embarkedwith her for Tunis, where on their arrival they were honourably receivedin the house of one of her kinswomen. Carapresa, who had attended her,being sent to discover what she might touching Martuccio, brought backword that he was alive, and high in honour and place. The gentlewoman wasminded that none but herself should apprise Martuccio of the arrival ofhis Gostanza: wherefore she hied her one day to Martuccio, andsaid:--"Martuccio, there is come to my house a servant of thine fromLipari, who would fain speak with thee here privily, and for that hewould not have me trust another, I am come hither myself to deliver hismessage." Martuccio thanked her, and forthwith hied him with her to herhouse: where no sooner did the girl see him than she all but died forjoy, and carried away by her feelings, fell upon his neck with open armsand embraced him, and, what with sorrow of his past woes and her presenthappiness, said never a word, but softly wept. Martuccio regarded her fora while in silent wonder; then, heaving a sigh, he said:--"Thou livestthen, my Gostanza? Long since I heard that thou wast lost; nor was aughtknown of thee at home." Which said, he tenderly and with tears embracedher. Gostanza told him all her adventures, and how honourably she hadbeen entreated by the gentlewoman with whom she had dwelt. And so longtime they conversed, and then Martuccio parted from her, and hied himback to his lord the King, and told him all, to wit, his own adventuresand those of the girl, adding that with his leave he was minded to marryher according to our law. Which matters the King found passing strange;and having called the girl to him, and learned from her that 'twas evenas Martuccio had said:--"Well indeed," quoth he, "hast thou won thyhusband." Then caused he gifts most ample and excellent to be broughtforth, part of which he gave to Gostanza, and part to Martuccio, leavingthem entirely to their own devices in regard of one another. ThenMartuccio, in terms most honourable, bade farewell to the old lady withwhom Gostanza had dwelt, thanking her for the service she had rendered toGostanza, and giving her presents suited to her condition, and commendingher to God, while Gostanza shed many a tear: after which, by leave of theKing, they went aboard a light bark, taking with them Carapresa, and,sped by a prosperous breeze, arrived at Lipari, where they were receivedwith such cheer as 'twere vain to attempt to describe. There wereMartuccio and Gostanza wedded with all pomp and splendour; and there longtime in easeful peace they had joyance of their love.

  NOVEL III.

  --Pietro Boccamazza runs away with Agnolella, and encounters a gang ofrobbers: the girl takes refuge in a wood, and is guided to a castle.Pietro is taken, but escapes out of the hands of the robbers, and aftersome adventures arrives at the castle where Agnolella is, marries her,and returns with her to Rome.--

  Ended Emilia's story, which none of the company spared to commend, thequeen, turning to Elisa, bade her follow suit; and she, with gladobedience, thus began:--

  'Tis a story, sweet ladies, of a woeful night passed by two indiscreetyoung lovers that I have in mind; but, as thereon ensued not a few daysof joy, 'tis not inapposite to our argument, and shall be narrated.

  'Tis no long time since at Rome, which, albeit now the tail,(1) was ofyore the head, of the world, there dwelt a young man, Pietro Boccamazzaby name, a scion of one of the most illustrious of the Roman houses, whobecame enamoured of a damsel exceeding fair, and amorous withal--her nameAgnolella--the daughter of one Gigliuozzo Saullo, a plebeian, but in highrepute among the Romans. Nor, loving thus, did Pietro lack the address toinspire in Agnolella a love as ardent as his own. Wherefore, overmasteredby his passion, and minded no longer to endure the sore suffering that itcaused him, he asked her in marriage. Whereof his kinsfolk were no soonerapprised, than with one accord they came to him and strongly urged him todesist from his purpose: they also gave Gigliuozzo Saullo to understandt
hat he were best to pay no sort of heed to Pietro's words, for that, ifhe so did, they would never acknowledge him as friend or relative. Thusto see himself debarred of the one way by which he deemed he might attainto his desire, Pietro was ready to die for grief, and, all his kinsfolknotwithstanding, he would have married Gigliuozzo's daughter, had but thefather consented. Wherefore at length he made up his mind that, if thegirl were willing, nought should stand in the way; and having through acommon friend sounded the damsel and found her apt, he brought her toconsent to elope with him from Rome. The affair being arranged, Pietroand she took horse betimes one morning, and sallied forth for Anagni,where Pietro had certain friends, in whom he placed much trust; and asthey rode, time not serving for full joyance of their love, for theyfeared