THE TENTH NOVELL

     WHEREIN SUCH MEN ARE COVERTLY REPREHENDED, WHO MAKE NO CARE OR

          CONSCIENCE AT ALL OF THOSE THINGS THAT SHOULD PRESERVE

                             THEM FROM SINNE

 

  Two Citizens of Siena, the one named Tingoccio Mini, and the other

Meucio di Tura, affected both one woman, called Monna Mita, to whom

the one of them was a Gossip. The Gossip dyed, and appeared

afterward to his companion, according as he had formerly promised

him to doe, and tolde him what strange wonders he had seene in the

other world.

 

  Now there remained none but the King himselfe, last of all to

recount his Novell; who, after hee heard the Ladies complaints

indifferently pacified, for the rash felling downe of such a

precious Peare-tree; thus he began. Faire Ladies, it is a case more

then manifest, that every King, who will be accounted just and

upright: should first of all, and rather then any other, observe those

Lawes which he himselfe hath made; otherwise he ought to be reputed as

a servant, worthy of punishment, and no King. Into which fault and

reprehension, I your King, shall well neere be constrained to fall;

for yesterday I enacted a Law, upon the forme of our discoursing, with

full intent, that this day I would not use any part of my

priviledge; but being subject (as you all are) to the same Law, I

should speake of that argument, which already you have done.

  Wherein, you have not onely performed more then I could wish, upon a

subject so sutable to my minde: but in every Novell, such variety of

excellent matter, such singular illustrations, and delicate

eloquence hath flowne from you all; as I am utterly unable to invent

any thing (notwithstanding the most curious search of my braine) apt

or fit for the purpose, to paragon the meanest of them already

related. And therefore seeing I must needs sinne in the Law

established by my selfe; I tender my submission, as worthy of

punishment, or what amends else you please to enjoyne mee. Now, as

returned to my wonted priviledge, I say, that the Novell recounted

by Madame Eliza, of the Fryar Godfather and his Gossip Agnesia, as

also the sottishnesse of the Senese her Husband, hath wrought in me

(worthy Ladies) to such effect; as, forbearing to speake any more of

these wily prancks, which witty wives exercise on their simple

Husbands; I am to tell you a pretty short Tale; which, though there is

matter enough in it, not worthy the crediting, yet partly it will

bee pleasing to heare.

  Sometime there lived in Sienna two popular men; the one being

named Tingoccio Mini, and the other Meucio de Tura; Men simple, and of

no understanding, both of them dwelling in Porta Salaia. These two men

lived in such familiar conversation together, and expressed such

cordiall affection each to other, as they seldome walked asunder;

but (as honest men use to doe) frequented Churches and Sermons,

oftentimes hearing, both what miseries and beatitudes were in the

world to come, according to the merits of their soules that were

departed out of this life, and found their equall repaiment in the

other. The manifold repetition of these matters, made them very

earnestly desirous to know, by what meanes they might have tydings

from thence, for their further confirmation. And finding all their

endeavours utterly frustrated, they made a solemne vow and promise

(each to other under oath) that hee which first dyed of them two,

should returne backe againe (so soone as possibly he could) to the

other remaining alive, and tell him such tydings as hee desired to

heare.

  After the promise was thus faithfully made, and they still keeping

company, as they were wont to doe: It fortuned, that Tingoccio

became Gossip to one, named Ambrosio Anselmino, dwelling in

Camporegglo, who by his wife, called Monna Mita, had a sweet and

lovely Sonne. Tingoccio often resorting thither, and consorted with

his companion Meucio; the she-Gossip, being a woman worthy the loving,

faire and comely of her person. Tingoccio, notwithstanding the

Gossipship betweene them, had more then a moneths minde to his

Godchilds Mother. Meucio also fell sicke of the same disease,

because shee seemed Fleasing in his eye, and Tingoccio gave he no

meane commendations; yet, carefully hey concealed their love to

themselves, but not for one and the same occasion. Because Tingoccio

kept it closely from Meucio, lest he should hold it disgracefull in

him, to beare amourous affection to his Gossip, and thought it

unfitting to bee knowne. But Meucio had no such meaning, for hee

knew well enough that Tingoccio loved her, and therefore conceived

in his minde, that if he discovered any such matter to him: He will

(quoth he) be jealous of me, and being her Gossip (which admitteth his

conference with her when himselfe pleaseth;) he may easily make her to

distaste me, and therefore I must rest contented as I am.

  Their love continuing on still in this kinde, Tingoccio prooved so

fortunate in the businesse, that having better meanes then his

companion, and more prevayring courses, when, where, and how to

Court his Mistresse, which seemed to forward him effectually. All

which Meucio plainely perceived, and though it was tedious and

wearisome to him, yet hoping to finde some successe at length: he

would not take notice of any thing, as fearing to infringe the amity

betweene him and Tingoccio, and so his hope to be quite supplanted.

Thus the one triumphing in his loves happinesse, and the other

hoping for his felicity to come; a lingering sickenesse seazed on

Tingoccio, which brought him to so low a condition, as at the length

he dyed.

  About some three or foure nights after, Meucio being fast asleepe in

his bed, the ghoste of Tingoccio appeared to him, and called so

loude that Meucio awaking, demanded who called him? I am thy friend

Tingoccio, replied the ghoste, who according to my former promise

made, am come again in vision to thee, to tell thee tidings out of the

nether world. Meucio was a while somewhat amazed: but, recollecting

his more manly spirits together, boldly he said. My brother and

friend, thou art heartily welcome: but I thought thou hadst beene

utterly lost. Those things (quoth Tingoccio) are lost, which cannot be

recovered againe, and if I were lost, how could I then be heere with

thee? Alas Tingoccio, replyed Meucio, my meaning is not so: but I

would be resolved, whether thou art among the damned soules, in the

painefull fire of hell torments, or no? No (quoth Tingoccio) I am

not sent thither, but for divers sinnes by mee committed I am to

suffer very great and grievous paines. Then Meucio demaunded

particularly, the punishments inflicted there, for the severall sinnes

committed heere: Wherein Tingoccio fully resolved him. And upon

further question, what hee would have to be done for him here, made

answere, That Meucio should cause Masses, Prayers and Almes-deeds to

be performed for him, which (he said) were very helpefull to the

soules abiding there, and Meucio promised to see them done.

  As the ghost was offering to depart, Meucio remembred Tingoccioes

Gossip Monna Mita, and raysing himselfe higher upon his pillowe, said.

My memorie informeth me friend Tingoccio, your kinde Gossip Monna

Mita, with whom (when you remained in this life) I knew you to be very

familiar: let me intreat you then to tell me, what punishment is

inflicted on you there, for that wanton sinne committed heere? Oh

Brother Meucio, answered Tingoccio, so soone as my soule was landed

there, one came immediately to me, who seemed to know all mine

offences readily by heart, and forthwith commanded, that I should

depart thence into a certaine place, where I must weepe for my

sinnes in very grievous paines. There I found more of my companions,

condemned to the same punishment as I was, and being among them, I

called to minde some wanton dalliances, which had passed betweene my

Gossip and me, and expecting therefore farre greater afflictions, then

as yet I felt (although I was in a huge fire, and exceedingly hot) yet

with conceite of feare, I quaked and trembled wondrously.

  One of my other Consorts being by me, and perceiving in what an

extreame agony I was; presently said unto me. My friend, what hast

thou done more, then any of us here condemned with thee, that thou

tremblest and quakest, being in so hot a fire? Oh my friend (quoth

I) I am in feare of a greater judgement then this, for a grievous

offence by mee heretofore committed while I lived. Then hee

demaunded of mee what offence it was, whereto thus I answered. It

was my chance in the other world, to be Godfather at a childs

Christning, and afterward I grew so affectionate to the childs mother,

as (indeed) I kissed her twice or thrise. My companyon laughing at

me in mocking manner, replyed thus. Goe like an Asse as thou art,

and be no more afraid hereafter, for here is no punishment

inflicted, in any kinde whatsoever, for such offences of frailty

committed, especially with Gossips, as I my selfe can witnesse.

  Now day drew on, and the Cockes began to crow, a dreadfull hearing

to walking spirits, when Tingoccio said to Meucio. Farewell my

friendly companion, for I may tarry no longer with thee, and instantly

hee vanished away. Meucio having heard this confession of his

friend, and verily beleeving it for a truth, that no punishment was to

be inflicted in the future world, for offences of frailty in this

life, and chiefly with Gossips: began to condemne his owne folly,

having bin a Gossip to many wives, yet modesty restrained him from

such familiar offending. And therefore being sorry for this grosse

ignorance, hee made a vowe to be wiser hereafter. And if Fryar Reynard

had been acquainted with this kind of shrift (as doubtlesse he was,

though his Gossip Agnesia knew it not) he needed no such

Syllogismes, as he put in practise, when he converted her to his

lustfull knavery, in the comparison of kinred by him moved, concerning

her husband, the childe and himselfe. But, these are the best fruits

of such Fryerly Confessions, to compasse the issue of their inordinate

appetites; yet clouded with the cloake of Religion, which hath beene

the overthrow of too many.

  By this time the gentle blast of Zephirus began to blow, because the

Sunne grew neere his setting, wherewith the King concluded his Novell,

and none remaining more to be thus imployed: taking the Crowne from

off his owne head, he placed it on Madame Laurettaes, saying,

Madame, I Crowne you with your owne Crowne, as Queene of our

Company. You shall henceforth command as Lady and Mistresse, in such

occasions as shall be to your liking, and for the contentment of us

all; With which words he set him downe. And Madame Lauretta being

now created Queene, shee caused the Master of the houshold to bee

called, to whom she gave command, that the Tables should be prepared n

the pleasant vally, but at a more convenient houre, then formerly

had beene, because they might (with better ease) returne backe to

the Pallace. Then shee tooke order likewise, for all such other

necessary matters, as should bee required in the time of f Regiment:

and then turning her selfe to the whole Company, she began in this

manner.

  It was the Will of Dioneus yesternight, that our discourses for this

day, should concerne the deceits of wives to their Husbands. And

were it not to avoyde taxation, of a spleenitive desire to be

revenged, like the dog being bitten, biteth againe: I could command

our to morrows conference, to touch mens treacheries towards their

wives. But because I am free from any such fiery humor, let it be your

generall consideration, to speake of such queint beguylings, as have

heretofore past, either of the woman to the man, the man to the woman,

or of one man to another: and I am of opinion, that they will yeeld us

no lesse delight, then those related (this day) have done. When she

had thus spoken, she rose; granting them all liberty, to goe

recreate themselves untill Supper time.

  The Ladies being thus at their owne disposing, some of them bared

their legges and feete, to wash them in the coole current. Others, not

so minded, walked on the greene grasse, and under the goodly spread:

trees. Dioneus and Madame Fiammetta, they sate singing together, the

love-warre between Arcit and Palemon. And thus with diversity of

disports, in choice delight and much contentment, all were imployed,

till Supper drew neere. When the houre re come, and the Tables covered

by the Ponds side: we need not question their dyet and dainties,

infinite Birds sweetly singing about them, as no musicke in the

world could be more pleasing; beside calme windes, fanning their faces

from the neighbouring hilles (free from flyes, or the least annoyance)

made a delicate addition to their pleasure.

  No sooner were the Tables withdrawne, and all risen: but they fetcht

a few turnings about the vally, because the Sunne was not (as yet)

quite set. Then in the coole evening, according to the Queenes

appointment: in a soft and gentle pace, they walked homeward: devising

on a thousand occasions, as well those which the dayes discourses

had yeelded, as others of their owne inventing beside. It was almost

darke night, before they arrived at the Pallace; where, with variety

of choice Wines, and abounding plenty of rare Banquetting, they out

wore the little toile and wearinesse, which the long walke had charged

them withall. Afterward, according to their wonted order, the

Instruments being brought and played on, they fell to dancing about

the faire Fountaine; Tindaro intruding (now and then) the sound of his

Bagpipe, to make the musicke seeme more melodious. But in the end, the

Queene commanded Madame Philomena to sing; whereupon the Instruments

being tuned fit for the purpose, thus she began.