moreespecially of lovers, know no bounds, but crave ever an amplersatisfaction; even so Messer Gentile, albeit he had been minded to tarrythere no longer, now said to himself:--Wherefore touch I not her bosom awhile? I have never yet touched it, nor shall I ever touch it again.Obeying which impulse, he laid his hand on her bosom, and keeping itthere some time, felt, as he thought, her heart faintly beating.Whereupon, banishing all fear, and examining the body with closerattention, he discovered that life was not extinct, though he judged itbut scant and flickering: and so, aided by his servant, he bore her, asgently as he might, out of the tomb; and set her before him upon hishorse, and brought her privily to his house at Bologna, where dwelt hiswise and worthy mother, who, being fully apprised by him of thecircumstances, took pity on the lady, and had a huge fire kindled, and abath made ready, whereby she restored her to life. Whereof the first signshe gave was to heave a great sigh, and murmur:--"Alas! where am I?" Towhich the worthy lady made answer:--"Be of good cheer; thou art welllodged." By and by the lady, coming to herself, looked about her; andfinding herself she knew not where, and seeing Messer Gentile before her,was filled with wonder, and besought his mother to tell her how she cameto be there.
Messer Gentile thereupon told her all. Sore distressed thereat, the lady,after a while, thanked him as best she might; after which she besoughthim by the love that he had borne her, and of his courtesy, that shemight, while she tarried in his house, be spared aught that could impairher honour and her husband's; and that at daybreak he would suffer her toreturn home. "Madam," replied Messer Gentile, "however I did affect youin time past, since God in His goodness has, by means of the love I boreyou, restored you to me alive, I mean not now, or at any time hereafter,to entreat you either here or elsewhere, save as a dear sister; but yetthe service I have to-night rendered you merits some guerdon, andtherefore lief had I that you deny me not a favour which I shall ask ofyou." Whereto the lady graciously made answer that she would be prompt togrant it, so only it were in her power, and consonant with her honour.Said then Messer Gentile:--"Your kinsfolk, Madam, one and all, nay, allthe folk in Bologna are fully persuaded that you are dead: there istherefore none to expect you at home: wherefore the favour I crave of youis this, that you will be pleased to tarry privily here with my mother,until such time--which will be speedily--as I return from Modena. And'tis for that I purpose to make solemn and joyous donation of you to yourhusband in presence of the most honourable folk of this city that I askof you this grace." Mindful of what she owed the knight, and witting thatwhat he craved was seemly, the lady, albeit she yearned not a little togladden her kinsfolk with the sight of her in the flesh, consented to doas Messer Gentile besought her, and thereto pledged him her faith. Andscarce had she done so, when she felt that the hour of her travail wascome; and so, tenderly succoured by Messer Gentile's mother, she not longafter gave birth to a fine boy. Which event did mightily enhance her ownand Messer Gentile's happiness. Then, having made all meet provision forher, and left word that she was to be tended as if she were his own wife,Messer Gentile, observing strict secrecy, returned to Modena.
His time of office there ended, in anticipation of his return to Bologna,he appointed for the morning of his arrival in the city a great andgoodly banquet at his house, whereto were bidden not a few of thegentlemen of Bologna, and among them Niccoluccio Caccianimico. Whom, whenhe was returned and dismounted, he found awaiting him, as also the lady,fairer and more healthful than ever, and her little son doing well; andso with a gladness beyond compare he ranged his guests at table, andregaled them with many a course magnificently served. And towards theclose of the feast, having premonished the lady of his intention, andconcerted with her how she should behave, thus he spoke:--"Gentlemen, Imind me to have once heard tell of (as I deem it) a delightsome customwhich they have in Persia; to wit, that, when one would do his friendespecial honour, he bids him to his house, and there shews him thattreasure, be it wife, or mistress, or daughter, or what not, that heholds most dear; assuring him that yet more gladly, were it possible, hewould shew him his heart. Which custom I am minded to observe here inBologna. You, of your courtesy, have honoured my feast with yourpresence, and I propose to do you honour in the Persian fashion, byshewing you that which in all the world I do, and must ever, hold mostdear. But before I do so, tell me, I pray you, how you conceive of a nicequestion that I shall lay before you. Suppose that one has in his house agood and most faithful servant, who falls sick of a grievous disorder;and that the master tarries not for the death of the servant, but has himborne out into the open street, and concerns himself no more with him:that then a stranger comes by, is moved to pity of the sick man, andtakes him to his house, and by careful tendance and at no small costrestores him to his wonted health. Now I would fain know whether thefirst master has in equity any just cause to complain of or be aggrievedwith the second master, if he retain the servant in his employ, andrefuse to restore him, when so required."
The gentlemen discussed the matter after divers fashions, and all agreedin one sentence, which they committed to Niccoluccio Caccianimico, forthat he was an eloquent and accomplished speaker, to deliver on the partof them all. Niccoluccio began by commending the Persian custom: afterwhich he said that he and the others were all of the same opinion, towit, that the first master had no longer any right in his servant, sincehe had not only abandoned but cast him forth; and that by virtue of thesecond master's kind usage of him he must be deemed to have become hisservant; wherefore, by keeping him, he did the first master no mischief,no violence, no wrong. Whereupon the rest that were at the table said,one and all, being worthy men, that their judgment jumped withNiccoluccio's answer. The knight, well pleased with the answer, and that'twas Niccoluccio that gave it, affirmed that he was of the same opinion;adding:--"'Tis now time that I shew you that honour which I promisedyou." He then called two of his servants, and sent them to the lady, whomhe had caused to be apparelled and adorned with splendour, charging themto pray her to be pleased to come and gladden the gentlemen with herpresence. So she, bearing in her arms her most lovely little son, came,attended by the two servants, into the saloon, and by the knight'sdirection, took a seat beside a worthy gentleman:whereupon:--"Gentlemen," quoth the knight, "this is the treasure that Ihold, and mean ever to hold, more dear than aught else. Behold, and judgewhether I have good cause."
The gentlemen said not a little in her honour and praise, averring thatthe knight ought indeed to hold her dear: then, as they regarded her moreattentively, there were not a few that would have pronounced her to bethe very woman that she was, had they not believed that woman to be dead.But none scanned her so closely as Niccoluccio, who, the knight beingwithdrawn a little space, could no longer refrain his eager desire toknow who she might be, but asked her whether she were of Bologna, or fromother parts. The lady, hearing her husband's voice, could scarce forbearto answer; but yet, not to disconcert the knight's plan, she keptsilence. Another asked her if that was her little boy; and yet another,if she were Messer Gentile's wife, or in any other wise his connection.To none of whom she vouchsafed an answer. Then, Messer Gentile comingup:--"Sir," quoth one of the guests, "this treasure of yours is goodlyindeed; but she seems to be dumb: is she so?" "Gentlemen," quoth MesserGentile, "that she has not as yet spoken is no small evidence of hervirtue." "Then tell us, you, who she is," returned the other. "That,"quoth the knight, "will I right gladly, so you but promise me, that, nomatter what I may say, none of you will stir from his place, until I haveended my story." All gave the required promise, and when the tables hadbeen cleared, Messer Gentile, being seated beside the lady, thusspoke:--"Gentlemen, this lady is that loyal and faithful servant,touching whom a brief while ago I propounded to you my question, whom herown folk held none too dear, but cast out into the open street as a thingvile and no longer good for aught, but I took thence, and by my carefultendance wrested from the clutch of death; whom God, regardful of my goodwill, has changed from the appalling aspect of a corpse to the thing ofbeauty that you see before yo
u. But for your fuller understanding of thisoccurrence, I will briefly explain it to you." He then recounted to themin detail all that had happened from his first becoming enamoured of thelady to that very hour whereto they hearkened with no small wonder; afterwhich:--"And so," he added, "unless you, and more especially Niccoluccio,are now of another opinion than you were a brief while ago, the ladyrightly belongs to me, nor can any man lawfully reclaim her of me."
None answered, for all were intent to hear what more he would say. But,while Niccoluccio, and some others that were there, wept for sympathy,Messer Gentile stood up, and took the little boy in his arms and the ladyby the hand, and approached Niccoluccio, saying:--"Rise, my gossip: I