Now, there happened at that time to be living in Naples a compatriot of ours, Pietro dello Canigiano,4 who was treasurer to Her Highness the Empress of Constantinople5 – a man of great intelligence and shrewdness, and a very close friend of Salabaetto and his family. Knowing him to be the very soul of discretion, Salabaetto took him into his confidence a few days after his arrival, told him about what he had done and about the sad fate which had befallen him, and requested his assistance and advice in finding some means of livelihood in Naples, declaring that he had no intention of ever returning to Florence.

  Saddened by what he had heard, Canigiano replied:

  ‘A fine state of affairs, I must say; a fine way to carry on; a fine sense of loyalty you have shown to your employers. No sooner do you lay your hands on a large sum of money, than you squander the lot in riotous living. But what’s done is done, and now we must look to the remedy.’

  Since he had a shrewd head on his shoulders, Canigiano quickly saw what was to be done, and explained his plan to Salabaetto, who, thinking it an excellent idea, set about putting it into effect. He still had a little money of his own, and supplementing this with a loan from Canigiano, he ordered a number of bales of merchandise to be packed and tightly corded up, and having purchased and filled about a score of oil-casks, he loaded the entire consignment aboard a ship and returned to Palermo. There he presented the invoice for the bales to the officers of the dogana, to whom he also declared the value of the casks, and having made sure that they had registered everything under his own name, he placed the goods in store, saying that he wished to leave them there until the arrival of a further consignment of merchandise he was expecting.

  On learning of his return and hearing that the goods he had brought were worth two thousand gold florins at the very least, without counting the goods still to come, which were valued at more than three thousand, Madonna Jancofiore, thinking she had set her sights too low, decided to repay him the five hundred florins so that she could get her claws on the greater portion of the five thousand, and sent word that she would like to see him.

  When Salabaetto called upon her, she pretended to know nothing of the merchandise he had brought and gave him the warmest of welcomes, saying:

  ‘Listen, my love; in case you were angry with me for not paying you back that money of yours punctually–’

  But Salabaetto, having profited from his earlier mistakes, laughed and said:

  ‘To tell the truth, my lady, I was very little displeased, for I would pluck the very heart from my body and give it to you, if I thought it would make you happy. But I should like you to judge for yourself how angry I am with you. So great and so particular is the love I bear you, that I have sold the greater part of my possessions, and now I have brought with me to Palermo a consignment of goods worth over two thousand florins. Moreover, I am expecting a further consignment from the West worth more than three thousand, and I intend to start a business in Palermo and settle here for good, for I consider myself more fortunate in loving you than any other lover in the world.’

  ‘I do assure you, Salabaetto,’ said the lady, ‘that any success of yours gives me enormous pleasure, since I love you more dearly than my very life; and I am delighted that you have returned here with the intention of staying, for I hope we shall still have many a good time together. But I owe you a little apology for all those occasions, before you went away, when you wanted to come here and I was unable to see you, as well as for the times when you came and you were not so well received as usual. And I must also ask you to forgive me for not repaying your money by the date I had promised.

  ‘You must remember that I was terribly sad and distressed at that particular time, and whenever a woman is in this condition, no matter how much she may love anyone, she cannot be as unfailingly cheerful and attentive towards him as he would like her to be. Besides, as you can hardly fail to realize, it is no easy matter for a woman to scrape together a thousand gold florins. We are always being fobbed off with lies, and people fail to keep their promises to us, with the result that we ourselves are compelled to tell lies to others. It was for this reason alone, and not through any ulterior motive, that I failed to pay you back. However, I did obtain the money shortly after you went away, and had I known your address, you may be quite sure that I would have sent it on to you; but since I didn’t know where you were, I put it away for you in a safe place.’

  Then, having called for a purse that contained the very florins he had given her, she placed it in his hand, saying:

  ‘Count them and make sure they come to five hundred.’

  Salabaetto had never felt so happy in his whole life, and having counted the florins and confirmed that they amounted to exactly five hundred, he tucked them away, saying:

  ‘I know that you are telling me the truth, my lady. Indeed, you have done more than enough to prove it, and because of this, as also because of the love I bear you, I assure you that whenever you are in need of money in the future, and it is within my power to supply it, you have only to ask and it shall be yours. Once I have set up my business here in Palermo, you will see for yourself that this is no idle promise.’

  Having thus cemented his love for the lady by means of these verbal protestations, Salabaetto began once more to play the gallant with her, whilst for her part she entertained and solaced him for all she was worth, pretending to love him to the point of distraction. However, Salabaetto was determined that his own duplicity should punish hers, and one evening, having received an invitation from her earlier in the day to sup and spend the night with her, he turned up at her house looking so distraught and miserable that it seemed he was about to die at any moment. Jancofiore, hugging and kissing him, began to question him about the reasons for his sadness, and after allowing her to wheedle him for a while, he replied:

  ‘I am utterly ruined, for the ship carrying the goods I was expecting has been seized by Monegasque pirates.6 They are demanding a ransom of ten thousand gold florins, of which I have to pay a thousand, and I haven’t a penny to my name, because as soon as you paid me back those five hundred florins, I sent them to Naples to be invested in a consignment of linen which is now on its way to Palermo. If I were to sell the goods I have in store here at the moment, I should lose half their true value, because it’s the wrong time to sell. On the other hand, I can’t find anyone here to lend me the money, because I am still not well enough known in the city. Hence I have no idea what to do or what to say; if I don’t send the money soon, my merchandise will be shipped to Monaco and I shall never see it again.’

  These tidings were highly irritating to the lady, for it seemed she was about to lose everything; but perceiving what she must do to prevent the goods going to Monaco, she said:

  ‘God knows I love you so dearly that I am very sorry to hear of your misfortune. But what’s the use of becoming so upset about it? If I had the money to lend you, God knows that I should let you have it here and now, but I haven’t got it. It’s true that I know of someone who might help – the person who lent me the remaining five hundred florins I needed the other month – but he charges a high rate of interest. You’d have to pay him at least thirty per cent if you were to borrow the money from him, and he would want something substantial by way of security. Now I personally would be prepared for your sake to offer him all I possess, myself included, as security for whatever sum he will lend, but how are you going to guarantee the rest of the loan?’

  Salabaetto was delighted, for he knew exactly what was prompting her to do him this favour, and perceived that it was she herself who would be lending him the money. So after he had thanked her, he told her that he would not be deterred by the exorbitant rate of interest, as he needed the money very badly; and he then went on to explain that by way of surety he would place the merchandise he had at the dogana to the credit of the person who was to lend him the money. However, he wished to retain the key to the warehouse, so as to be able to display his merchandise if anyone should ask him t
o do so, and also to ensure that his goods were not interfered with or exchanged or moved elsewhere.

  The lady agreed that this was a wise precaution, and declared that a surety of this kind would be more than adequate. Early next morning, she sent for a broker who was privy to most of her secrets, and having explained the situation to him, she gave him a thousand gold florins, which the broker lent to Salabaetto, having first ensured that all the goods that Salabaetto had at the dogana were transferred to his own name. Various documents were signed and countersigned by the two men, and when all was settled between them, they went their separate ways to attend to their other affairs.

  At the earliest opportunity, Salabaetto took ship with his fifteen hundred gold florins, and returned to Pietro dello Canigiano in Naples, whence he made full remittance to his principals in Florence for the woollens with which they had originally sent him to Palermo. And having paid Pietro and all his other creditors, he made merry with Canigiano over the trick he had played on the Sicilian woman, celebrating his success for several days on end. He then left Naples, and having decided to retire from commerce, made his way to Ferrara.

  When Jancofiore learned that Salabaetto was no longer to be found in Palermo, her suspicions were aroused and she began to wonder what had become of him. After waiting for at least two months without seeing any sign of him, she got the broker to force a way into the warehouse. And having first of all tested the casks, which were supposed to be full of oil, she discovered that they were filled with sea-water, apart from about a firkin of oil that was floating at the top of each cask, near the bung-hole. Then, untying the bales, she found that all except two (which consisted of woollens) were filled with tow. And in fact, to cut a long story short, the whole consignment was worth no more than two hundred florins.

  On perceiving that she had been outwitted, Jancofiore lamented long and bitterly over the five hundred florins she had repaid, and even more over the thousand she had lent, frequently repeating to herself the old saw: ‘Honesty’s the better line, when dealing with a Florentine.’ And so it was that, having burnt her fingers and covered herself in ridicule, she discovered that some people are every bit as knowing as others.

  * * *

  No sooner had Dioneo reached the end of his story, than Lauretta, knowing that the time had come for her to abdicate, commended the advice given by Pietro dello Canigiano, which to judge by its effects had been very sound; and having also praised the sagacity of Salabaetto, who was no less worthy of commendation for translating Pietro’s advice into practice, she removed the laurel crown from her head and placed it upon Emilia’s, saying with womanly grace:

  ‘I know not, madam, whether you will make an agreeable queen, but we shall certainly have a fair one. See to it, then, that your actions are in keeping with your beauty.’

  Lauretta then resumed her seat, leaving Emilia feeling somewhat ill at ease, not so much in having been made their queen as in hearing herself praised in public for something to which ladies are wont to attach most importance, and her face turned the colour of fresh roses at dawn. But having lowered her gaze until her blushes had receded, she summoned the steward and made appropriate arrangements for their activities of the morrow, after which she addressed them as follows:

  ‘Delectable ladies, we may readily observe that when oxen have laboured in chains beneath the yoke for a certain portion of the day, their yoke is removed and they are put out to grass, being allowed to roam freely through the woods wherever they please. Similarly, we may perceive that gardens stocked with numerous different trees are much more beautiful than forests consisting solely of oaks. And therefore, having regard to the number of days during which our deliberations have been confined within a predetermined scheme, I consider that it would be both appropriate and useful for us to wander at large for a while, and in so doing recover the strength for returning once again beneath the yoke.

  ‘Accordingly, when we resume our storytelling on the morrow, I do not propose to confine you to any particular topic; on the contrary, I desire that each of us should speak on whatever subject he or she may choose,1 it being my firm conviction that we shall find it no less rewarding to hear a variety of themes discussed than if we had restricted ourselves to one alone. Moreover, by doing as I have suggested, we shall all recruit our strength, and thus my successor will feel more justified in forcing us to observe our customary rule.’

  The members of the company applauded the queen for proposing so sensible an arrangement; and rising from their places, they turned to various forms of relaxation, the ladies making garlands and otherwise amusing themselves whilst the young men sang songs and played games. In this way they whiled away their time until supper, to which in due course they gaily addressed themselves, sitting in a circle round the delectable fountain. And when supper was over they freely engaged in their usual pastimes of singing and dancing.

  Finally the queen, out of deference to the ways of her predecessors, ordered Panfilo to sing a song, notwithstanding the fact that various members of the company had already sung several of their own accord. And so Panfilo promptly began, as follows:

  ‘Love, I take such delight in thee,

  And find such joy and pleasure in thy name,

  That I am happy burning in thy flame.

  ‘I feel such joy within my breast,

  Grown from the precious grace

  Which thou hast brought to me,

  So strong it cannot be suppressed

  But shines out from my face

  Declaring me to be

  Enamoured joyfully–

  Happy to stay and burn so nigh

  To one in place and name so high!

  ‘I cannot sing aloud in song

  Or sketch forth with my hand

  The joy, Love, that I know;

  For to reveal it would be wrong,

  That I well understand.

  A torment it would grow;

  But I am happy so.

  All speech would be subdued and broken

  ‘Ere one small part of it were spoken.

  ‘Who is there who aright could guess

  My arms would find that place

  That they were clasped around?

  None would believe my happiness

  That I might bend my face

  Whither I did, and found

  Salvation sweet and grace.

  Hence I with burning joy conceal

  A rapture I may not reveal.’

  Thus did Panfilo’s song come to an end, and though everyone had joined wholeheartedly in the refrain, there was not a single person present who did not attend more carefully than usual to the words, striving to guess what Panfilo had implied he was obliged to conceal. And whilst several formed their own opinions as to his meaning, they were all well wide of the mark. But in the end the queen, perceiving that Panfilo’s song was finished and that the young ladies and the gentlemen were showing clear signs of fatigue, ordered them all to retire to bed.

  Here ends the Eighth Day of the Decameron

  NINTH DAY

  Here begins the Ninth Day, wherein, under the rule of Emilia, it is left to all the members of the company to speak on whatever subject they choose.

  The light whose radiance dispels the shades of night had already softened into pale celestial hues the deep azure of the eighth heaven,1 and the flowerets in the meadows had begun to raise their drooping heads, when Emilia arose and caused the other young ladies to be called, and likewise the three young men. Answering her summons, they set off at a leisurely pace behind the queen, and made their way to a little wood, not very far from the palace. On entering the wood, they observed a number of roebucks, stags, and other wild creatures, which, as though sensing they were safe from the hunter on account of the plague, stood their ground as if they had been rendered tame and fearless. However, by approaching these creatures one after another as though intending to touch them, they caused them to run away and leap in the air; and in this way they amused themselves for so
me little time until, the sun being now in the ascendant, they thought it expedient to retrace their steps.

  They were all wreathed in fronds of oak, and their hands were full of fragrant herbs or flowers, so that if anyone had encountered them, he would only have been able to say: ‘Either these people will not be vanquished by death, or they will welcome it with joy.’

  And so back they came, step by gradual step, singing, chattering, and jesting with one another as they walked along, and on reaching the palace they found everything neatly arranged and the servants all gay and festive. They then rested for a while, nor did they sit down at table before half-a-dozen canzonets, each of them more lively than the one preceding it, had been sung by the young men and the ladies; after which, having rinsed their hands in water, they were shown to their places at table by the steward, acting on instructions from the queen. The food was served, and they all ate merrily; and after rising from their meal, they danced and made music for a while until the queen gave permission, to those who so desired, to retire to rest.

  At the customary hour, however, they were all seated in their usual places for the start of their discussions, and the queen, looking towards Filomena, bade her tell the first story of the day, whereupon Filomena smiled and began as follows: