THE TENTH NOVELL

 

     REPREHENDING THE CUNNING OF IMMODEST WOMEN, WHO BY ABUSING

        THEMSELVES, DO THROW EVILL ASPERSIONS ON ALL THEIR SEXE

 

  Pedro di Vinciolo went to sup at a friends house in the City. His

wife (in the meane while) had a young man whom shee loved, at supper

with Pedro returning home on a sodaine, the young man was hidden under

a Coope for Hens. Pedro in excuse of his so soone comming home,

declareth, how in the house of Herculano (with whom he should have

supt) a friend of his Wives was found, which was the reason of the

Suppers breaking off. Pedroes Wife reproving the error of

Herculanoes wife, an Asse (by chance) treads on the yong mans

fingers that lay hidden under the Hen-coope. Upon his crying out Pedro

steppeth thither, sees him, knowes him, and findeth the fallacy of his

wife; with whom (nevertbelesse) he groweth to agreement, in regard

of some imperfections in himselfe.

 

  The Queenes Novell being ended, and all applauding the happy fortune

of Frederigo, as also the noble nature of Madam Giana; Dioneus

expecting no command, prepared to deliver his discourse in this maner.

I know not whether I should terme it a vice accidentall, and insuing

thorow the badnes of complexions on us mortals; or an error in Nature,

to rejoyce rather at lewd accidents, then at deeds that deserve

commendation, especially when they no way concern our selves. Now,

in regard that all the paines I have hitherto taken, and am also to

undergo at this present aymeth at no other end, but onely to purge

your minds of melancholly, and entertain the time with mirthful

matter: pardon me I pray you (faire Lacties) if my Tale trip in some

part, and savour a little of immodesty; yet in hearing it, you may

observe the same course, as you doe in pleasing and delightfull

Gardens, plucke a sweete Rose, and preserve your fingers from

pricking. Which very easily you may doe, winking at the

imperfections of a foolish man, and at the amourous subtilties of

his Wife, compassionating the misfortune of others, where urgent

necessity doth require it.

  There dwelt not long since in Perugia, a wealthy man named Pedro

di Vinciolo, who perhaps more to deceive some other, and restraine

an evill opinion which the Perugians had conceived of him, in matter

no way beseeming a man, then any beauty or good feature remaining in

the woman entred into the estate of marriage. And Fortune was so

conforme to him in his election, that the woman whom he had made his

wife, had a yong, lusty, and well enabled bodie, a red-haird Wench,

hot and fiery spirited, standing more in neede of three Husbands, then

he, who could not any way well content one Wife, because his minde ran

more on his mony, then those offices and duties belonging to

wedlock, which time acquainted his Wife withall, contrary to her

owne expectation, and those delights which the estate of marriage

afforded, knowing her selfe also to be of a sprightly disposition, and

not to be easily tamed by houshold cares and attendances, shee waxed

weary of her husbands unkind courses, upbraided him daily with harsh

speeches, making his owne home meerly as a hell to him.

  When she saw that this domesticke disquietnesse returned her no

benefit, but rather tended to her own consumption, then any

amendment in her miserable Husband, shee began thus to conferre with

her private thoughts. This Husband of mine liveth with me, as if he

were no Husband, or I his Wife; the marriage bed, which should be a

comfort to us both, seemeth hatefull to him, and as little pleasing to

mee, because his minde is on his money, his head busied with worldly

cogitations, and early and late in his counting-house, admitting no

familiar conversation with me. Why should not I be as respectlesse

of him, as he declares him selfe to be of me? I tooke him for an

Husband, brought him a good and sufficient Dowry, thinking him to be

man, and affected a woman as a man ought to doe, else he had never

beene any Husband of mine. If he be a Woman hater, why did he make

choice of me to be his Wife? If I had not intended to be of the World,

I could have coopt my selfe up in a Cloyster, and shorne my selfe a

Nunne, but that I was not born to such severity of life. My youth

shall be blasted with age before I can truly understand what youth is,

and I shall be branded with the disgraceful word barrennesse,

knowing my selfe meete and able to be a Mother, were my Husband but

wort the name of a Father, or expected issue and posterity, to leave

our memoriall to after times in our race, as all our predecessours

formerly have done, and for which mariage was chiefly instituted.

Castles long besieged, doe yeeld at the last, and women wronged by

their owne husbands, can hardly warrant their owne frailety,

especially living among so many temptations, which flesh and bloud are

not alwaies able to resist. Well, I meane to be advised in this

case, before I will hazard my honest reputation, either to suspition

or scandall, then which, no woman can have two heavier enemies, and

very few there are that can escape them.

  Having thus a long while consulted with her selfe, and (perhaps)

oftner then twice or thrice; she became secretly acquainted with an

aged woman, generally reputed to be more then halfe a Saint, walking

alwayes very demurely in the streetes, counting (over and over) her

Paters Nosters, and all the Cities holy pardons hanging at her

girdle never talking of any thing, but the lives of the holy

Fathers, or the woundes of Saint Frances, all the World admiring her

sanctity of life, even as if shee were divinely inspired: this shee

Saint must bee our distressed womans Counsellour, and having found out

a convenient season, at large she imparted all her minde to her, in

some such manner as formerly you have heard, whereto she returned this

answer.

  Now trust me Daughter, thy case is to be pittied, and so much the

rather, because thou art in the flowre and spring time of thy youth,

when not a minute of time is to bee left: for there is no greater an

errour in this life, then the losse of time, because it cannot bee

recovered againe; and when the fiends themselves affright us, yet if

wee keepe our embers still covered with warme ashes on the hearth,

they have not any power to hurt us. If any one can truly speake

thereof, then I am able to deliver true testimony; for I know, but not

without much perturbation of minde, and piercing afflictions in the

spirit; how much time I lost without any profit. And yet I lost not

all, for I would not have thee thinke me to bee so foolish, that I did

altogether neglect such an especiall benefit; which when I call to

mind, and consider now in what condition I am, thou must imagine, it

is no small hearts griefe to mee, that age should make me utterly

despised, and no fire affoorded to light my tinder.

  With men it is not so, they are borne apt for a thousand

occasions, as well for the present purpose wee talke of, as infinite

other beside; yea, and many of them are more esteemed being aged, then

when they were young. But women serve onely for mens contentation, and

to bring Children; and therefore are they generally beloved, which

if they faile of, either it is by unfortunate marriage, or some

imperfection depending on nature, not through want of good will in

themselves. Wee have nothing in this World but what is given us, in

which regard, wee are to make use of our time, and employ it the

better while wee have it. For, when wee grow to bee old, our Husbands,

yea, our very dearest and nearest Friends, will scarsely looke on

us. Wee are then fit for nothing, but to sit by the fire in the

Kitchin, telling tales to the Cat, or counting the Pots and Pannes

on the shelves. Nay, which is worse, Rimes and Songs is made of us,

even in meere contempt of our age, and commendation of such as are

young, the daintiest morsels are fittest for them, and wee referred to

feed on the scrappes from their Trenchers, or such reversion as they

can spare us. I tell thee Daughter, thou couldst not make choyce of

a meeter woman in all the City, to whom thou mightest safely open

thy minde, and knowes better to advise thee then I doe. But remember

withall, that I am poore, and it is your part not to suffer poverty to

bee unsupplyed. I will make thee partaker of all these blessed

pardons, at every Altar I will say a Pater Noster, and an Ave Maria,

that thou maist prosper in thy hearts desires, and be defended from

foule sinne and shame, and so she ended her Motherly counsell.

  Within a while after, it came to passe, that her Husband was invited

foorth to supper, with one named Herculano, a kinde Friend of his, but

his Wife refused to goe, because she had appointed a Friend to

Supper with her, to whom the old woman was employed as her

messenger, and was well recompenced for her labour. This friend was

a gallant proper youth, as any all Perugia yeelded, and scarcely was

hee seated at the Table, but her Husband was returned backe, and

called to bee let in at the doore. Which when shee perceived, she

was almost halfe dead with feare, and coveting to hide the young

man, that her Husband should not have any sight of him, shee had no

other meanes, but in an entry, hard by the Parlour where they purposed

to have supt, stood a Coope or Hen-pen, wherein shee used to keepe her

Pullen, under which hee crept, and then shee covered it with an olde

empty Sacke, and after ranne ranne to let her Husband come in. When

hee was entred into the House; as halfe offended at his so sudden

returne, angerly she saide: It seemes Sir you are a shaver at your

meate, that you have made so short a Supper. In troth Wife (quoth hee)

I have not supt at all, no not so much as eaten one bit. How hapned

that, said the woman? Marry Wife (quoth hee) I will tell you, and then

thus he began.

  As Herculano, his Wife, and I were sitting downe at the Table,

very neere unto us wee heard one sneeze, whereof at the first wee made

no reckoning, untill wee heard it againe the second time, yeal a

third, fourth, and fifth, and many more after, whereat wee were not

a little amazed. Now Wife I must tell you, before wee entred the roome

where we were to sup, Herculanoes Wife kept the doore fast shut

against us, and would not let us enter in an indifferent while;

which made him then somewhat offended, but now much more, when hee had

heard one to sneeze so often. Demaunded of her a reason for it, and

who it was that thus sneezed in his House: hee started from the Table,

and stepping to a little doore neere the staires head, necessarily

made, to set such things in, as otherwise would be troublesome to

the roome, (as in all Houses we commonly see the like) he perceived,

that the party was hidden there, which wee had heard so often to

sneeze before.

  No sooner had hee opened the doore, but stich a smell of brimstone

came foorth (whereof wee felt not the least savour before) as made

us likewise to cough and sneeze, being no way able to refraine it.

Shee seeing her Husband to bee much moved, excused the matter thus:

that (but a little while before) shee had whited certaine linnen

with the smoake of brimstone, as it is a usuall thing to doe, and then

set the Pan into that spare place, because it should not bee offensive

to us. By this time, Herculano had espied him that sneezed, who

being almost stifled with the smell, and closenesse of the small roome

wherein hee lay, had not any power to helpe himselfe, but still

continued coughing and sneezing, even as if his heart would have split

in twaine. Foorth hee pluckt him by the heeles, and perceiving how

matter had past, hee saide to her. I thanke you Wife now I see the

reason, why you kept us so long from comming into this roome: let

mee die, if I beare this wrong at your hands. When his Wife heard

these words, and saw the discovery of her shame; without returning

either excuse or answere, foorth of doores shee ranne, but whither,

wee know not. Herculano drew his Dagger, and would have slaine him

that still lay sneezing: but I disswaded him from it, as well in

respect of his, as also mine owne danger, when the Law should

censure on the deede. And after the young man was indifferently

recovered; by the perswasion of some Neighbours comming in: hee was

closely conveyed out of the House, and all the noyse quietly pacified.

Onely (by this meanes, and the flight of Herculanoes Wife) wee were

disappointed of our Supper, and now you know the reason of my so soone

returning.

  When shee had heard this whole discourse, then shee perceived,

that other Women were subject to the like infirmitie, and as wise

for themselves, as shee could be, though these the like sinister

accidents might sometime crosse them: and gladly shee wished, that

Herculanoes Wives excuse, might now serve to acquite her: but

because in blaming others errours, our owne may sometime chance to

escape discovery, and cleare us, albeit wee are as guilty; in a sharpe

reprehending manner, thus shee began. See Husband, heere is hansome

behaviour, of an holy faire-seeming, and Saint-like woman, to whom I

durst have confest my sinnes, I conceived such a religious

perswasion of her lives integrety, free from the least scruple of

taxation. A woman, so farre stept into yeeres, as shee is, to give

such an evill example to younger women, is it not a sinne beyond all

sufferance? Accursed be the houre, when she was borne into this World,

and her selfe likewise, to bee so lewdly and incontinently given; an

universall shame and slaunder, to all the good women of our City.

  Shall I tearme her a woman, or rather some savage monster in a

womans shape? Hath shee not made an open prostitution of her

honesty, broken her plighted faith to her Husband, and all the womanly

reputation shee had in this World? Her Husband, being an honourable

Citizen, entreating her alwayes, as few men else in the City doe their

wives; what an heart-breake must this needes bee to him, good man?

Neither I, nor any honest man else, ought to have any pity on her, but

(with our owne hands) teare her in peeces, or dragge her along to a

good fire in the Market place, wherein she and her minion should be

consumed together, and their base ashes dispersed abroad in the winde,

least the pure Aire should be infected with them.

  Then, remembring her owne case, and her poore affrighted friend, who

lay in such distresse under the Hen-coope; she began to advise her

Husband, that he would be pleased to go to bed, because the night

passed on apace. But Pedro, having a better will to eate, then to

sleepe, desired her to let him have some meate, else hee must goe to

bed with an empty bellie; whereto shee answered. Why Husband (quoth

shee) doe I make any large provision, when I am de. bard of your

company? I would I were the Wife of Herculano, seeing you cannot

content your selfe from one nights feeding, considering, it is now

over-late to make any thing ready.

  It fortuned; that certaine Husbandmen, which had the charge of

Pedroes Farmehouse in the Countrey, and there followed his affaires of

Husbandry, were returned home this instant night, having their Asses

laden with such provision, as was to bee used in his City-house.

When the Asses were unladen, and set up in a small Stable, without

watering; one off them being (belike) more thirsty then the rest,

brake loose, and wandering all about smelling to seeke water, happened

into the entry, where the young man lay hidden under the Hen pen. Now,

hee being constrained (like a Carpe) to lye flat on his belly, because

the Coope was over-weighty for him to carry, and one of his hands more

extended foorth, then was requisite for him in so urgent a shift: it

was his hap (or ill fortune rather) that the Asse set his foote on the

young mans fingers, treading so hard, and the paine being very

irkesome to him, as hee was enforced to cry out aloude: which Pedro

hearing, he wondered thereat not a little.

  Knowing that this cry was in his house, hee tooke the Candle in

his hand, and going foorth of the Parlour, heard the cry to be louder;

because the Asse removed not his foote, but rather trod the more

firmely on his hand. Comming to the Coope, driving the Asse, and

taking off the old sacke, he espyed the young man, who, beside the

painefull anguish he felt of his fingers, arose up trembling, as

fearing some outrage beside to bee offered him by Pedro, who knew

the youth perfectly, and demaunded of him, how he came thither. No

answere did hee make to that question, but humbly entreated (for

charities sake) that hee would not doe him any harme. Feare not (quoth

Pedro) I will not offer thee any violence: onely tell mee how thou

camest hither, and for what occasion; wherein the youth fully resolved

him.

  Pedro being no lesse joyfull for thus find. him, then his Wife was

sorrowfull, tooke him by the hand, and brought him into the Parlour,

where shee sate trembling and quaking, as not knowing what to say in

this distresse. Seating himselfe directly before her, and holding

the youth still fast by the hand, thus hee began. Oh Wife! What bitter

speeches did you use (even now) against the Wife of Herculano,

maintaining that shee had shamed all other women, and justly

deserved to be burned? Why did you not say as much of your selfe?

Or, if you had not the heart to speake, how could you bee so cruell

against her, knowing your offence as great as hers? Questionlesse,

nothing else urged you thereto, but that all women are of one and

the same condition, covering their owne grosse faults by farre

inferiour infirmities in others. You are a perverse generation,

meerely false in your fairest shewes.

  When she saw that he offered her no other violence, but gave her

such vaunting and reproachfull speeches, holding still the young man

before her face, meerely vexe and despight her: shee began to take

heart, and thus replied. Doest thou compare mee with the Wife of

Herculano, who is an old, dissembling hypocrite? Yet she can have of

him whatsoever shee desireth, and he useth her as a woman ought to be,

which favour I could never yet finde at thy hands. Put the case,

that thou keepest me in good garments; allowing mee to goe neatly

hosed and shod; yet well thou knowest, there are other meere matters

belonging to a woman, and every way as necessarily required, both

for the preservation of Houshold quietnesse, and those other rites

betweene a Husband and Wife. Let mee be worser garmented, courser

dieted, yea, debarred of all pleasure and delights; so I might once be

worthy the name of a Mother, and leave some remembrance of

woman-hood behinde me. I tell thee plainely Pedro, I am a woman as

others are, and subject to the same desires, as (by nature)

attendeth on flesh and blood: looke how thou failest in kindnesse

towards me, thinke it not amisse, if I doe the like to thee, and

endeavour thou to win the worthy title of a Father, because I was made

to be a Mother.

  When Pedro perceived, that his Wife had spoken nothing but reason,

in regard of his over-much neglect towards her, and not using such

Houshold kindnesse, as ought to be betweene Man and Wife, hee returned

her this answer. Well Wife (quoth he) I confesse my fault, and

hereafter will labour to amend it; conditionally, that this youth, nor

any other, may no more visite my House in my absence. Get me therefore

something to eate, for doubtlesse, this young man and thy selfe fell

short of your Supper, by reason of my so soone returning home. In

troth Husband, saide she, we did not eate one bit of any thing, and

I will be a true and loyall Wife to thee, so thou wilt be the like

to me. No more words then Wife, replyed Pedro, all is forgotten and

forgiven, let us to Supper, and we are all friends. She seeing his

anger was so well appeased, lovingly kissed him, and laying the cloth,

set on the supper, which she had provided for her selfe and the youth,

and so they supt together merrily, not one unkinde word passing

betweene them. After Supper, the youth was sent away in friendly

manner, and Pedro was alwayes afterward more loving to his Wife,

then formerly hee had beene, and no complaint passed on either side,

but mutuall joy and Houshold contentment, such as ought to bee

betweene Man and Wife.

  Dioneus having ended this his Tale, for which the Ladies returned

him no thankes, but rather angerly frowned on him: the Queene, knowing

that her government was now concluded, arose, and taking off her

Crowne of Lawrell, placed it graciously on the head of Madame Eliza,

saying. Now Madame, it is your turne to commaund. Eliza having

received the honour, did (in all respects) as others formerly had

done, and after shee had enstructed the Master of the Houshold,

concerning his charge during the time of her Regiment, for

contentation of all the company; thus shee spake.

  We have long since heard, that with witty words, ready answeres

and sudden jests or taunts, many have checkt and reproved great

folly in others, and to their no meane owne commendation. Now, because

it is a pleasing kinde of argument, ministring occasion of mirth and

wit: my desire is, that all our discourse to morrow shall tend

thereto. I meane of such persons, either Men or Women, who with some

sudden witty answere, have encountred a scorner in his owne intention,

and layed the blame where it justly belonged. Every one commended

the Queenes appointment, because it savoured of good wit and

judgement; and the Queene being risen, they were all discharged till

supper time, falling to such severall exercises as themselves best

fancyed.

  When Supper was ended, and the instruments layed before them; by the

Queenes consent, Madam Aemilia undertooke the daunce, and the Song was

appointed to Dioneus, who began many, but none that proved to any

liking, they were so palpably obsceene and idle, savouring

altogether of his owne wanton disposition. At the length, the Queene

looking stearnely on him, and commanding him to sing a good one, or

none at all; thus he began.