Tales From the Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio

  Ninetta was loved, with the devotion of his entire being, by a young man called Restagnone, who was poor but of noble birth. The girl reciprocated his love, and they had managed to devise a way of consummating it without revealing the fact to a living soul. They had already been enjoying the fruits of their love for quite some time when two young men called Folco and Ughetto, who were mutual friends and whose fathers had died, leaving them very wealthy, happened to fall in love with Maddalena and Bertella respectively.

  It was Ninetta who first drew Restagnone’s attention to this, and having confirmed that it was so, he cudgelled his brains for a way of using the young men’s loves to repair his own fortunes. Having struck up an acquaintance with them, he made a practice of taking them, sometimes individually and sometimes together, to visit the three young ladies. And one day, when he felt that he was on sufficiently friendly and familiar terms with the two young men, he invited them round to his house, and said to them:

  ‘My dear young friends, we have now become well enough acquainted for you to perceive the strength of my affection towards you, and to realize that I would work no less zealously in the pursuit of your interests than I would in pursuing my own. Because of my deep affection for you, I am going to lay before you a certain proposal of mine, which you will be free to reject or act upon as you think proper. If you have been speaking the truth, and if I rightly interpret what I have observed of your conduct over a great many days and nights, you burn with passionate love for the two young ladies whose sister is the object of my own no less ardent devotion. Being firmly resolved to assuage these fiery torments of ours, I have concocted a very sweet and pleasant remedy, which, provided you give your consent, will assuredly do the trick. Allow me to explain. You young men are very rich and I am not. If you will give me a third share in your combined wealth, and decide whereabouts in the world you would like us to go and live happily with our ladies, I will undertake without fail to persuade the three sisters to come with us to the place we have chosen, bringing with them a substantial part of their father’s fortune. Each of us will have his own lady, and we shall be able to live as three brothers, more contented than any other men on earth. That is my proposal, and now it is up to you to decide whether you are going to act upon it or turn it down.’

  The two youths were exceedingly lovesick, and once they had heard that they were to have their ladies, they had no difficulty in making up their minds, telling Restagnone that if things turned out in the manner he had described, they were ready to do as he asked.

  A few days after receiving this answer from the two young men, Restagnone found himself alone with Ninetta, with whom every so often he was able to consort, but only at great inconvenience. Having dallied with her for a while, he told her about the discussion he had had with the young men, and plied her with numerous arguments in an effort to win her over to his scheme. This, however, was a relatively easy matter, for she was even more anxious than he was that they should be able to meet freely, without the constant fear of being discovered. And after pledging him her full support and assuring him that her sisters would follow her advice, especially in this particular matter, she asked him to make all necessary preparations as quickly as possible. Restagnone returned to the two youths, who pressed him a great deal on the subject of their earlier discussion, and he told them that as far as their ladies were concerned the whole thing was settled. Having chosen Crete as the place to which they should go, they sold certain properties of theirs under the pretext of using the proceeds for a trading expedition, converted everything else they possessed into hard cash, purchased a brigantine, which they provisioned in secret on a lavish scale, and waited for the appointed day to come. For her part, Ninetta, who had a very clear notion of the wishes of her two sisters, described the scheme to them in such glowing colours and fired them with so much enthusiasm that they thought they would never live long enough to see it carried out. When the night finally arrived for them to go aboard the brigantine, the three sisters opened up a huge chest belonging to their father and took a large amount of money and jewellery from it, which they carried quictly away from the house according to plan. Their three lovers were waiting for them, and all six hurried aboard the brigantine, which immediately weighed anchor and put out to sea. After an unbroken voyage, they arrived next evening in Genoa, where the new lovers enjoyed the first delectable fruits of their love.

  Having taken on all the fresh provisions they needed, they put to sea again, making their way unimpeded from one port to the next until, a week later, they arrived in Crete. There, not far from Candia,1 they purchased vast and magnificent estates, upon which they built houses of great beauty and splendour. And what with their large retinue of servants, their dogs, their birds, and their horses, they began to live like lords, banqueting and merrymaking and rejoicing in the company of their ladies, the most contented men on God’s earth.

  This, then, was their way of life. But as we all know from experience, a surfeit of good things often leads to sorrow, and now that Restagnone, who had once been very much in love with Ninetta, was able to possess her whenever he liked without fear of discovery, he began to have second thoughts about her, with the result that his love began to wane. Furthermore, he was powerfully attracted to a beautiful and gently bred young woman of the neighbourhood whom he had glimpsed at a banquet, and he began to court her with the maximum of zeal, paying her extravagant compliments and putting on entertainments for her benefit. When Ninetta perceived what was happening, she was so distraught with jealousy that he was unable to make a move without her getting wind of it and pelting him with so much abuse and hostility that she made Restagnone’s life a misery as well as her own.

  In the same way, however, that a surfeit of good things generates distaste, so the withholding of a desired object sharpens the appetite, and Ninetta’s resentment merely served to fan the flames of Restagnone’s new-born love. Whether or not he eventually succeeded in possessing his beloved, we shall never know. But at all events somebody or other convinced Ninetta that he had, and she fell into a state of deep melancholy, which rapidly gave way to anger and finally to blazing fury. All her former love for Restagnone was transformed into bitter hatred, and in a paroxysm of rage she resolved to murder him and thus avenge the affront she believed him to have offered her. Having called in an old Greek woman who was expert in the preparation of poisons, she persuaded her by means of gifts and promises to concoct a lethal potion. And one evening, without giving the matter a second thought, she served this up to Restagnone, who was feeling thirsty because of the heat and was totally off his guard. The drink was so potent that it finished him off before matins, and the news of his death was sent to Folco, Ughetto, and their ladies. Without knowing that he had been poisoned, they joined their own bitter tears to those of Ninetta, and saw that he was given an honourable burial.

  But a few days later, it happened that because of some other piece of villainy, the old woman who had concocted the poisonous potion for Ninetta was arrested. Under torture, she confessed to this particular crime along with the others she had committed, and supplied a full account of what had happened. The Duke of Crete said nothing about it to anyone, but one night he threw a cordon round Folco’s palace, quietly arrested Ninetta, and took her away without a struggle. There was no need to resort to torture, for he very quickly learned from Ninetta everything he wanted to know about Restagnone’s death.

  Folco and Ughetto had been secretly informed by the Duke of the reason for Ninetta’s arrest, and they in turn informed their ladies. All four were greatly distressed, and spared no effort to save Ninetta from being burnt at the stake, which was the punishment to which they realized she would be condemned, as she richly deserved. But the Duke was determined that justice should take its course, and it seemed that there was nothing they could do to make him change his mind.

  Maddalena was a strikingly beautiful young woman, and for some little time she had been the object of the Duke’s affection. Sh
e had never given him the slightest encouragement, but she now thought that by placating his desires she would be able to rescue her sister from the fire, and she informed him through a trusted messenger that she was ready to do his bidding on two conditions: first, that her sister should be returned to her unharmed; and secondly, that the whole matter should be kept secret. On receipt of the message, the sound of which was much to his liking, the Duke devoted a great deal of thought to it and in the end agreed to its terms, sending back word to that effect. And one evening, with the young woman’s prior consent, he had Folco and Ughetto arrested on the pretext of hearing their version of the affair, and secretly went to spend the night with Maddalena. First, however, he had tied Ninetta up in a sack and made it appear that he intended to dump her in the sea, instead of which he took her with him and presented her to her sister by way of payment for his night of pleasure. Next morning, before leaving, he begged Maddalena not to look upon this first night of their love as the last they would spend together, and implored her to send her guilty sister away so that he should not be taken to task and compelled to put her on trial all over again.

  That same morning, Folco and Ughetto were released, having been told that Ninetta had been executed by drowning in the course of the night. Believing this to be true, they returned home to comfort their ladies in the death of their sister, and although Maddalena made every effort to conceal her from Folco, he nevertheless discovered, much to his astonishment, that she was there. His suspicions were immediately aroused, for he had already heard it said that the Duke was in love with Maddalena, and he demanded to know how it came about that Ninetta was in the house.

  Maddalena spun him a long-winded tale in an effort to explain, but he was too shrewd to be taken in by much of what she was saying, and kept pressing her to tell him the truth. She talked and talked, but in the end she had to tell him. Folco was overcome with dismay, and in a fit of blazing fury he drew out his sword and killed her, turning a deaf ear to her pleas for mercy. Fearing the Duke’s wrath and retribution, he left her dead body where it lay and went off in search of Ninetta, whom he greeted with a false show of gaiety, saying:

  ‘Let us go at once to the place where your sister has decided that I should take you, so that you won’t fall into the Duke’s hands a second time.’

  Ninetta, who trusted him implicitly, was a frightened woman, and was only too anxious to make good her escape. By now it was already dark, and without stopping to bid her sister farewell, she and Folco set out, taking with them all the money he could lay his hands upon, which did not amount to very much. On reaching the sea-coast they took to a boat, and that was the last that was ever heard of them.

  Next morning, when Maddalena’s body was discovered, the Duke was immediately informed of the murder by certain people who had long regarded Ughetto with hatred and envy. The Duke, who was deeply in love with Maddalena, rushed to the house breathing fire and slaughter, arrested Ughetto and his lady, and forced them (though they were as yet ignorant of what had happened) to confess that they were jointly responsible with Folco for Maddalena’s death.

  In view of this confession, they were afraid, not without reason, that they would be put to death, and so they very cleverly bribed the men appointed to guard them by handing over a certain sum of money which they always kept hidden in the house for whenever it might be needed. There was no time to lose, and leaving behind all their possessions, they boarded a ship with their gaolers and fled under cover of darkness to Rhodes, where shortly thereafter they ended their days in poverty and distress.

  And so it was that Restagnone’s reckless love and Ninetta’s anger brought ruin, not only to themselves, but also to others.

  FOURTH STORY

  Gerbino, violating a pledge given by his grandfather King William, attacks a ship belonging to the King of Tunis with the object of abducting the latter’s daughter. She is killed by those aboard the ship, he kills them, and afterwards he is beheaded.

  Her story having come to an end, Lauretta was now silent whilst various members of the company turned to their neighbours, lamenting the fate of the lovers. Some of them blamed it all on Ninetta’s anger, but opinion was divided on this point, and they were still debating the pros and cons among themselves when the king, who all this time had seemed rapt in meditation, looked up and gave Elissa a signal to proceed. And in tones of humility she began, as follows:

  Winsome ladies, there are many who believe that Love looses his arrows only when kindled by the eyes, and who regard with contempt anyone who maintains that a person may fall in love on the strength of verbal report.1 In this belief they are mistaken, as will be seen very clearly in a story I propose to relate, from which you will observe that hearsay not only caused two people to fall in love without ever having seen one another, but also swept each of the lovers to a tragic death.

  According to the Sicilians, William the Second,2 King of Sicily, had two children: a son who was called Ruggieri, and a daughter whose name was Gostanza. Ruggieri died before his father, leaving a son named Gerbino, who, having been carefully reared by his grandfather, grew up to be a strikingly handsome young man and won great renown for his daring and courtesy. His fame was not confined to Sicily itself, but echoed round many other parts of the world, flourishing above all in Barbary,3 which at that time happened to be a tributary to the King of Sicily. The marvellous tales that were told of Gerbino’s courtesy and valour reached the ears of a great many people, including a daughter of the King of Tunis – a lady who, in the opinion of all who had seen her, was one of the loveliest creatures ever fashioned by Nature, as well as being the most gracious, and endowed with a truly noble heart. Being very receptive to tales of gallant men, she lovingly treasured the various accounts that filtered through to her on the subject of Gerbino’s valorous exploits, and was fascinated by them to such a degree that she formed a mental picture of the sort of man he was, falling passionately in love with him; and nothing gave her greater pleasure than to talk about Gerbino and to listen whenever his name was mentioned by others.

  Conversely, astounding reports of her own beauty and excellence had spread amongst other places to Sicily, where they came to the notice of Gerbino, who, far from remaining indifferent, derived no small pleasure from them and began to burn with a love the equal of her own.

  Though he longed to see her, he lacked a plausible reason for seeking his grandfather’s leave to visit Tunis, and he therefore charged every friend of his who went there to do all he possibly could in the way of drawing attention to his secret and devoted love, and return with tidings of the lady. One of these friends discharged his mission very skilfully, for by posing as a merchant and taking her a quantity of jewels for her to look at, he succeeded in apprising her fully of Gerbino’s passionate devotion and in placing him, together with everything he possessed, entirely at her service. The lady’s eyes shone with pleasure as she received the envoy and listened to his message, and having assured him that her own regard for Gerbino was no less passionate than his for her, she sent him one of her most valuable jewels as a token of her burning affection. No precious object ever brought greater delight to the person to whom it was sent than this jewel she gave to Gerbino, who, using the same messenger, wrote her many letters and sent her the most marvellous presents. And it was understood between them that whenever Fortune offered them a suitable occasion, they would meet and become properly acquainted.

  The affair had been dragging on in this fashion for somewhat longer than either of them would have wished, with the young lady pining away in Tunis and Gerbino doing the same in Sicily, when the King of Tunis suddenly announced his intention of marrying her to the King of Granada. This news distressed her enormously, for it meant that not only would a vast distance separate her from her lover but to all intents and purposes she would be kept entirely out of his reach; and if she had been able to devise any way of doing so, she would willingly have run away from her father to forestall such a calamity, and sailed across to
Gerbino.

  When Gerbino heard of the marriage, he too suffered the agonies of the damned, and vowed repeatedly to himself that if she were to travel to her husband by sea and a suitable opportunity arose, he would carry her off by main force.

  Rumours of their love and of Gerbino’s resolution came to the ears of the King of Tunis, who was apprehensive of the young man’s determination and courage, and when the time for his daughter’s departure approached he sent word of his intentions to King William, informing him that as soon as he had his assurance that neither Gerbino nor any of his associates would interfere with his plans, he would carry them into effect. King William, who was getting on in years, had no inkling of Gerbino’s love for the lady, and never supposed for a moment that this was the reason why he was being asked for such an assurance. So he freely granted the King of Tunis’s request, and sent him his glove4 as a token of his royal word. Once he had received this pledge, the King of Tunis had a fine, big ship fitted out in the port of Carthage, saw that it was provisioned with everything that the people who were to sail in her would need, and made sure it was embellished and equipped in a suitable style for conveying his daughter to Granada, after which there was nothing left for him to do but sit back and wait for favourable weather.

  On observing all this activity and knowing its purpose, the young lady had secretly dispatched one of her servants to Palermo and commissioned him to deliver her greetings to the gallant Gerbino, informing him that she was to leave within a few days for Granada. Thus it would now be seen whether he was as daring a man as people reported, and whether he loved her as deeply as he had so often claimed.

  The man whom she entrusted with the embassy carried out her instructions to the letter and returned to Tunis. Gerbino, who had heard all about his grandfather’s pledge to the King of Tunis, was at a loss to know how he should react to the lady’s message; but under the promptings of his love, not wishing to appear a coward, he hurried off to Messina, where he took over a pair of light galleys and rapidly put them into fighting trim. He then signed on a crew of stout-hearted men for each of the vessels, and sailed to Sardinian waters, through which he calculated that the lady’s ship would have to pass.