Upon the Wedding day, performed with great and magnificent Triumph, there was not a corner in the Brethrens houses, but it sung joy in the highest key.Lysimachus, after he had ordered all things as they ought to be, and the houre for dispatch approached neere; he made a division in three parts, ofChynon, his followers, and his owne friendes, being all well armed under their outward habites. Having first used some encouraging speeches, for more resolute prosecution of the enterprize, he sent one troope secretly to the Port, that they might not be hindred of going aboord the ship, when the urgent necessity should require it. Passing with the other two traines ofPasimondo, he left the one at the doore, that such as were in the house might not shut them up fast, and so impeach their passage forth. Then withChynon, and the third band of Confederates, he ascended the staires up into the Hall, where he found the Brides with store of Ladies and Gentlewomen, all sitting in comely order at Supper. Rushing in roughly among the attendants, downe they threw the Tables, and each of them laying hold of his Mistris, delivered them into the hands of their followers, commanding that they should be carried aboord the ship, for avoiding of further inconveniences.
This hurrie and amazement beeing in the house, the Brides weeping, the Ladies lamenting, and all the servants confusedly wondering;ChynonandLysimachus(with their Friends) having their weapons drawn in their hands, made all opposers to give them way, and so gayned the stair head for their owne descending. There stoodePasimondo, with an huge long Staffe in his hand, to hinder their passage downe the stayres; butChynonsaluted him so soundly on the head, that it being cleft in twaine, hee fell dead before his feete. His BrotherHormisdacame to his rescue, and sped in the selfe-same manner as he had done; so did divers other beside, whom the companions toLysimachusandChynon, either slew out-right, or wounded.
So they left the house, filled with bloode, teares, and out-cries, going on together, without any hinderance, and so brought both the Brides aboord the shippe, which they rowed away instantly with theyr Oares. For, now the shore was full of armed people, who came in rescue of the stolne Ladies: but all in vaine, because they were lanched into the main, and sayled on merrily towardesCandye. Where beeing arrived, they were worthily entertained by honourable Friendes and Kinsmen, who pacified all unkindnesses betweene them and their Mistresses: And, having accepted them in lawfull marriage, there they lived in no meane joy and contentment: albeit there was a long and troublesome difference (about these rapes) betweeneRhodesandCyprus.
But yet in the end, by the meanes of Noble Friends and Kindred on either side, labouring to have such discontentment appeased, endangering warre betweene the Kingdomes: after a limited time of banishment,Chynonreturned joyfully with hisIphigeniahome toCyprus, andLysimachuswith his belovedCassandrauntoRhodes, each living in their severall Countries, with much felicity.
When the Queene perceyved, that the Novell recited byPamphiluswas concluded, which she graced with especial commendations: she commaunded MadameÆmillia, to take her turne as next in order; whereupon, thus she began. Me thinkes it is a matter of equity, that every one should take delight in those things, whereby the recompence may be noted, answerable to their owne affection. And because I rather desire to walke along by the paths of pleasure, then dwell on any ceremonious or scrupulous affectation, I shall the more gladly obey our Queen to day, then yesterday I did our melancholly King.
Understand then (Noble Ladies) that neere toSicily, there is a small Island, commonly calledLiparis, wherein (not long since) lived a yong Damosell, namedConstance, born of very sufficient parentage in the same Island. There dwelt also a young man, calledMartuccio Gomito, of comely feature, well conditioned, and not unexpert in many vertuous qualities; affectingConstancein hearty manner: and she so answerable to him in the same kinde, that to be in his company, was her onely felicity.Martucciocoveting to enjoy her in marriage, made his intent knowne to her Father: who upbraiding him with poverty, tolde him plainly that hee should not have her.Martucciogreeving to see himselfe thus despised, because he was poore: made such good meanes, that he was provided of a small Barke; and calling such friends (as he thought fit) to his association, made a solemne vow, that hee would never returne backe toLiparis, untill he was rich, and in better condition.
In the nature and course of a Rover or Pirate, so put he thence to sea, coasting all aboutBarbarie, robbing and spoyling such as hee met with; who were of no greater strength then himselfe: wherein Fortune was so favourable to him, that he became wealthy in a very short while. But as felicities are not alwayes permanent, so hee and his followers, not contenting themselves with sufficient riches: by greedy seeking to get more, happened to be taken by certaine ships of the Sarazins, and so were robbed themselves of all that they had gotten, yet they resisted them stoutly a long while together, though it proved to the losse of many lives among them. When the Sarazens had sunke his shippe in the Sea, they tooke him with them toThunis, where he was imprisoned, and lived in extreamest misery.
Newes came toLiparis, not onely by one, but many more beside, that all those which departed thence in the small Barke withMartucciowere drowned in the Sea, and not a man escaped. WhenConstanceheard these unwelcome tydings (who was exceeding full of greefe, for his so desperate departure) she wept and lamented extraordinarily, desiring now rather to dye, then live any longer. Yet shee had not the heart, to lay any violent hand on her selfe, but rather to end her dayes by some new kinde of necessity. And departing privately from her Fathers house, shee went to the port or haven, where (by chance) she found a small Fisher-boate, lying distant from the other vessels, the owners whereof being all gone on shore, and it well furnished with Masts, Sailes, and Oares, she entred into it; and putting forth the Oares, beeing some-what skilfull in sayling, (as generally all the Women of that Island are) shee so well guyded the Sailes, Rudder, and Oares, that she was quickly farre off from the Land, and soly remained at the mercy of the windes. For thus she had resolved with her selfe, that the Boat being uncharged, and without a guide, wold either be over-whelmed by the windes, or split in peeces against some Rocke; by which meanes she could not escape although shee would, but (as it was her desire) must needs be drowned.
In this determination, wrapping a mantle about her head, and lying downe weeping in the boats bottome, she hourely expected her finall expiration: but it fell out otherwise, and contrary to her desperate intention, because the winde turning to the North, and blowing very gently, without disturbing the Seas a jot, they conducted the small Boat in such sort, that after the night of her entering into it, and the morowes sailing untill the evening, it came within an hundred leagues ofThunis, and to a strond neere a Towne calledSusa. The young Damosell knew not whether she were on the sea or land; as one, who not by any accident hapning, lifted up her head to look about her, neither intended ever to doe. Now it came to passe, that as the boate was driven to the shore, a poore woman stood at the Sea side, washing certaine Fishermens Nets; and seeing the boate comming towards her under saile, without any person appearing in it, she wondred thereat not a little. It being close at the shore, and she thinking the Fishermen to be asleepe therein: stept boldly, and looked into the boate, where she saw not any body, but onely the poore distressed Damosell, whose sorrowes having broght her now into a sound sleepe, the woman gave many cals before she could awake her, which at the length she did, and looked very strangely about her.
The poore woman perceyving by her habite that she was a Christian, demanded of her (in speaking Latine) how it was possible for her, beeing all alone in the boate, to arrive there in this manner? WhenConstanceheard her speake the Latine tongue, she began to doubt, least some contrary winde had turned her backe toLiparisagaine, and starting up sodainly, to looke with better advice about her, shee saw her selfe at Land: and not knowing the Countrey, demanded of the poore woman where she was? Daughter (quoth she) you are heere hard bySusainBarbarie. WhichConstancehearing, and plainly perceyving, that death had denied to end her miseries, fearing least she should receive some dishonour, in such a barbarous unkinde Country, and not knowing what shold now become of her, she sate downe by the boates side, wringing her hands, & weeping bitterly.
The good Woman did greatly compassionate her case, and prevailed so well by gentle speeches, that shee conducted her into her owne poore habitation; where at length she understoode, by what meanes shee hapned thither so strangely. And perceyving her to be fasting, shee set such homely bread as she had before her, a few small Fishes, and a Crewse of Water, praying her for to accept of that poore entertainement, which meere necessity compelled her to do, and shewed her selfe very thankefull for it.
Constancehearing that she spake the Latine language so well; desired to know what she was. Whereto the olde woman thus answered: Gentlewoman (quoth she) I am ofTrapanum, namedCarapresa, and am a servant in this Countrey to certaine Christian Fishermen. The yong Maiden (albeit she was very full of sorrow) hearing her name to beCarapresa, conceived it as a good augury to her selfe, & that she had heard the name before, although shee knew not what occasion should move her thus to do. Now began her hopes to quicken againe, and yet shee could not tell upon what ground; nor was she so desirous of death as before, but made more precious estimation of her life, and without any further declaration of her selfe or countrey, she entreated the good woman (even for charities sake) to take pitty on her youth, and help her with such good advice, to prevent all injuries which might happen to her, in such a solitary wofull condition.
Carapresahaving heard her request, like a good woman as shee was, leftConstancein her poore Cottage, and went hastily to leave her nets in safety: which being done, she returned backe againe, and coveringConstancewith her Mantle, led her on toSusawith her, where being arrived, the good woman began in this manner.Constance, I will bring thee to the house of a very worthy Sarazin Lady, to whome I have done manie honest services, according as she pleased to command me. She is an ancient woman, full of charity, and to her I will commend thee as best I may, for I am well assured, that shee will gladly entertaine thee, and use thee as if thou wert her owne daughter. Now, let it be thy part, during thy time of remaining with her, to employ thy utmost diligence in pleasing her, by deserving and gaining her grace, till heaven shall blesse thee with better fortune: And as she promised, so she performed.
The Sarazine Lady, being well stept into yeares, upon the commendable speeches delivered byCarapresa, did the more seriously fasten her eye onConstance, and compassion provoking her to teares, she tooke her by the hand, and (in loving manner) kissed her fore-head. So she led her further into her house, where dwelt divers other women (but not one man) all exercising themselves in severall labours, as working in all sorts of silke, with Imbroideries of Gold and Silver, and sundry other excellent Arts beside, which in short time were verie familiar toConstance, and so pleasing grew her behaviour to the old Lady, and all the rest beside; that they loved and delighted in her wonderfully, and (by little and little) she attained to the speaking of their language, although it were verie harsh and difficult.
Constancecontinuing thus in the old Ladies service atSusa, & thought to be dead or lost in her owne Fathers house; it fortuned, that one reigning then as King ofThunis, who named himselfeMariabdela: there was a young Lord of great birth, and very powerfull, who lived as then inGranada, and pleaded that the Kingdome ofThunisbelonged to him. In which respect, he mustred together a mighty Army, and came to assault the King, as hoping to expell him. These newes comming to the eare ofMartuccio Gomito, who spake the Barbarian Language perfectly; and hearing it reported, that the King ofThunismade no meane preparation for his owne defence: he conferred with one of his keepers, who had the custody of him, and the rest taken with him, saying: If (quoth hee) I could have meanes to speake with the King, and he were pleased to allow of my counsell, I can enstruct him in such a course, as shall assure him to win the honour of the field. The Guard reported these speeches to his master, who presently acquainted the King therewith, andMartucciobeing sent for; he was commanded to speake his minde: Whereupon he began in this manner.
My gracious Lord, during the time that I have frequented your countrey, I have heedfully observed, that the Militarie Discipline used in your fights and battailes, dependeth more upon your Archers, then any other men imployed in your warre. And therefore, if it could bee so ordered, that this kinde of Artillery might fayle in your Enemies Campe, & yours be sufficiently furnished therewith, you neede make no doubt of winning the battaile: whereto the King thus replyed. Doubtlesse, if such an acte were possible to be done, it would give great hope of successefull prevailing. Sir, saidMartuccio, if you please it may bee done, and I can quickly resolve you how. Let the strings of your Archers Bowes bee made more soft and gentle, then those which heretofore they have formerly used; and next, let the nockes of the Arrowes be so provided, as not to receive any other, then those pliant gentle strings. But this must be done so secretly, that your enemies may have no knowledge thereof, least they should provide themselves in the same manner. Now the reason (Gracious Lord) why thus I counsell you, is to this end. When the Archers on the Enemies side have shot their Arrowes at your men, and yours in the like manner at them: it followeth, that (upon meere constraint) they must gather up your Arrowes, to shoote them backe againe at you, for so long while as the battell endureth, as no doubt but your men will do the like to them. But your enemies will finde themselves much deceived, because they can make no use of your peoples Arrowes, in regard that the nockes are too narrow to receive their boysterous strings. Which will fall out contrary with your followers, for the pliant strings belonging to your Bowes, are as apt for their enemies great nockt Arrowes, as their owne, and so they shall have free use of both, reserving them in plentifull store, when your adversaries must stand unfurnished of any, but them that they cannot any way use.
This counsell pleased the King very highly, and hee being a Prince of great understanding, gave order to have it accordingly followed, and thereby valiantly vanquished his enemies. Heereupon,Martucciocame to be great in his grace, as also consequently rich, and seated in no meane place of authority. Now, as worthy and commendable actions are soone spread abroad, in honour of the man by whome they hapned: even so the fame of this rare got victory, was quickly noysed throughout the Countrey, and came to the hearing of pooreConstance, thatMartuccio Gomito(whom she supposed so long since to be dead) was living, and in honourable condition. The love which formerly she bare unto him, being not altogether extinct in her heart; of a small sparke, brake foorth into a sodaine flame, and so encreased day by day, that her hope (being before almost quite dead) revived againe in chearfull manner.
Having imparted all her fortunes to the good olde Lady with whome she dwelt; she told her beside, that she had an earnest desire to seeThunis, to satisfie her eyes as well as her eares, concerning the rumor blazed abroad. The good olde Lady commended her desire, and (even as if she had bene her mother) tooke her with her aboord a Barke, and so sayled thence toThunis, where both she andConstancefound honourable welcome, in the house of a kinsman to the Sarazin Lady.Carapresaalso went along with them thither, and her they sent abroad into the Citie, to understand the newes ofMartuccio Gomito. After they knew for a certaintie that hee was living, and in great authority about the King, according as the former report went of him. Then the good old Lady, being desirous to letMartuccioknow, that his faire friendConstancewas come thither to see him; went her selfe to the place of his abiding, and spake unto him in this manner. NobleMartuccio, there is a servant of thine in my house, which came fromLiparis, and requireth to have a little private conference with thee: but because I durst not trust any other with the message, my selfe (at her entreaty) am come to acquaint thee therewith.Martucciogave her kinde and hearty thankes, and then went along with her to the house.
No sooner didConstancebehold him, but shee was ready to dye with conceite of joy, and being unable to containe her passion: sodainely she threw her armes about his necke, and in meere compassion of her many misfortunes, as also the instant solace of her soule (not being able to utter one word) the teares trickled abundantly downe her cheekes.Martuccioalso seeing his faire friend, was overcome with exceeding admiration, & stood awhile, as not knowing what to say; till venting forth a vehement sighe, thus he spake. My deerest loveConstance! art thou yet living? It is a tedious long while since I heard thou wast lost, and never any tydinges knowne of thee in thine owne Fathers house. With which wordes, the teares standing his eyes, most lovingly he embraced her.Constancerecounted to him all her fortunes, and what kindnesse she hadde receyved from the Sarazine Lady, since her first houre of comming to her. And after much other discourse passing betweene them,Martucciodeparted from her, and returning to the King his master, tolde him all the historie of his fortunes, and those beside of his LoveConstance, beeing purposely minded (with his gracious liking) to marry her according to the Christian Law.
The King was much amazed at so many strange accidents, and sending forConstanceto come before him; from her own mouth he heard the whole relation of her continued affection toMartuccio, whereuppon hee saide. Now trust me faire Damosell, thou hast dearly deserved him to be thy husband. Then sending for very costly Jewels, and rich presents, the one halfe of them he gave to her, and the other toMartuccio, graunting them license withall, to marry according to their owne mindes.
Martucciodid many honours, and gave great giftes to the aged Sarazine Lady, with whomConstancehad lived so kindly respected: which although she had no neede of, neither ever expected any such rewarding; yet (conquered by their urgent importunity, especiallyConstance, who could not be thankfull enough to her) she was enforced to receive them, and taking her leave of them weeping, sayled backe againe toSusa.
Within a short while after, the King licensing their departure thence, they entred into a small Barke, andCarapresawith them, sailing on with prosperous gales of winde, untill they arrived atLiparis, where they were entertained with generall rejoycing. And because their marriage was not sufficiently performed atThunis, in regard of divers Christian ceremonies there wanting, their Nuptials were againe most honourably solemnized, and they lived (many yeares after) in health and much happinesse.
There was not any one in the whole company, but much commended the Novell reported by MadamEmillia, and when the Queene perceived it was ended, she turned towards MadamEliza, commanding her to continue on their delightfull exercise: whereto shee declaring her willing obedience, began to speak thus. Courteous Ladies, I remember one unfortunate night, which happened to two Lovers, that were not indued with the greatest discretion. But because they had very many faire and happy dayes afterwardes, I am the more willing for to let you heare it.
In the Citie ofRome, which (in times past) was called the Ladie and Mistresse of the world, though now scarsely so good as the waiting maid: there dwelt sometime a yong Gentleman, namedPedro Bocamazzo, descended from one of the most honourable families inRome, who was much enamoured of a beautifull Gentlewoman, calledAngelina, daughter to one namedGiglivozzo Saullo, whose fortunes were none of the fairest, yet he greatly esteemed among the Romaines. The entercourse of love between these twaine, had so equally enstructed their hearts and souls, that it could hardly be judged which of them was the more fervent in affection. But he, not being inured to such oppressing passions, and therefore the lesse able to support them, except he were sure to compasse his desire, plainly made the motion, that he might enjoy her in honourable mariage. Which his parents and friends hearing, they went to conferre with him, blaming him with over-much basenesse, so farre to disgrace himselfe and his stocke. Beside, they advised the Father to the Maid, neither to credit whatPedrosaide in this case, or to live in hope of any such match, because they all did wholly despise it.
Pedroperceiving, that the way was shut up, whereby (and none other) he was to mount the Ladder of his hopes; began to waxe weary of longer living: and if he could have won her fathers consent, he would have maried her in the despight of all his friends. Neverthelesse, he had a conceit hammering in his head, which if the maid would bee as forward as himselfe, should bring the matter to full effect. Letters and secret intelligences passing still betweene, at length he understood her ready resolution, to adventure with him thorough all fortunes whatsoever, concluding on their sodaine and secret flight from Rome. For whichPedrodid so well provide, that very early in a morning, and well mounted on horsebacke, they tooke the way leading untoAlagna, wherePedrohad some honest friends, in whom he reposed especiall trust. Riding on thus thorow the countrey, having no leysure to accomplish their marriage, because they stoode in feare of pursuite: they were ridden above foure leagues from Rome, still shortning the way with their amorous discoursing.
It fortuned, thatPedrohaving no certaine knowledge of the way, but following a trackt guiding too farre on the left hand; rode quite out of course, and came at last within sight of a small Castle, out of which (before they were aware) yssued twelve Villaines, whomAngelinasooner espyed, thenPedrocould do, which made her cry out to him, saying: Help deere Love to save us, or else we shall be assayled.Pedrothen turning his horse so expeditiously as he could, and giving him the spurres as neede required; mainly he gallopped into a neere adjoining Forrest, more minding the following ofAngelina, then any direction of his way, or then that endeavoured to be his hinderance. So that by often winding & turning about, as the passage appeared troublesome to him, when he thought him selfe free and furthest from them, he was round engirt, and seized on by them. When they had made him to dismount from his horse, questioning him of whence and what he was, and he resolving them therein, they fell into a secret consultation, saying thus among themselves. This man is a friend to our deadly enemies, how can wee then otherwise dispose of him, but bereave him of all he hath, and in despight of theOrsini(men in nature hatefull to us) hang him up heere on one of these Trees?
All of them agreeing in this dismall resolution, they commandedPedroto put off his garments, which he yeelding to do (albeit unwillingly) it so fell out, that five and twenty other theeves, came sodainly rushing in upon them, crying, Kill, kill, and spare not a man.
They which before had surprizedPedro, desiring nowe to shifte for their owne safetie; left him standing quaking in his shirt, and so ranne away mainely to defend themselves. Which the new crewe perceyving, and that their number farre exceeded the other: they followed to robbe them of what they had gotten, accounting it as a present purchase for them. Which whenPedroperceyved, and saw none tarrying to prey uppon him; hee put on his cloathes againe, and mounting on his owne Horsse, gallopped that way, whichAngelinabefore had taken: yet could hee not descry any tracke or path, or so much as the footing of a horse; but thought himselfe in sufficient securitie, beeing rid of them that first seized on him, and also of the rest, which followed in the pursuite of them.
For the losse of his belovedAngelina, he was the most wofull man in the world, wandering one while this way, and then againe another, calling for her all about the Forrest, without any answere returning to him. And not daring to ride backe againe, on he travailed still, not knowing where to make his arrivall. And having formerly heard of savage ravenous beasts, which commonly live in such unfrequented Forrests: he not onely was in feare of loosing his owne life, but also despayred much for hisAngelina, least some Lyon or Woolfe, had torne her body in peeces.
Thus rode on poore unfortunatePedro, untill the breake of day appeared, not finding any meanes to get forth of the Forrest, still crying and calling for his fayre friend, riding many times backeward, when as hee thought hee rode forward, untill hee became so weake and faint, what with extreame feare, lowd calling, and continuing so long a while without any sustenance, that the whole day beeing thus spent in vaine, and darke night sodainly come uppon him, hee was not able to hold out any longer.
Now was hee in farre worse case then before, not knowing where, or how to dispose of himselfe, or what might best bee done in so great a necessity. From his Horse hee alighted, and tying him by the bridle unto a great tree, uppe he climbed into the same Tree, fearing to bee devoured (in the night time) by some wilde beast, choosing rather to let his Horsse perish, then himselfe. Within a while after, the Moone beganne to rise, and the skies appeared bright and cleare: yet durst hee not nod, or take a nap, lest he should fall out of the tree; but sate still greeving, sighing, and mourning, despairing of ever seeing hisAngelinaany more, for he could not be comforted by the smallest hopefull perswasion, that any good fortune might befall her in such a desolate Forrest, where nothing but dismall feares was to be expected, and no likelihood that she should escape with life.
Now, concerning poore affrightedAngelina, who (as you heard before) knew not any place of refuge to flye unto: but even as it pleased hir horse to carry her: she entred so farre into the Forest, that she could not devise where to seeke her owne safety. And therefore, even as it fared with her friendPedro, in the same manner did it fall out with her, wandering the whole night, and all the day following, one while taking one hopefull tracke, and then another, calling, weeping, wringing hir hands, and greevously complaining of her hard fortune. At the length, perceyving thatPedrocame not to her at all, she found a little path (which shee lighted on by great good fortune) even when dark night was apace drawing, and followed it so long, till it brought her within the sight of a small poore Cottage, whereto she rode on so fast as she could; and found therein a very old man, having a wife rather more aged then he, who seeing hir to be without company, the old man spake thus unto her.
Faire daughter (quoth he) whether wander you at such an unseasonable houre, and all alone in a place so desolate? The Damosell weeping, replied; that shee had lost her company in the forest, and enquired how neere shee was toAlagna. Daughter (answered the old man) this is not the way toAlagna, for it is above sixe leagues hence. Then shee desired to knowe, how farre off shee was from such houses, where she might have any reasonable lodging? There are none so neere, said the old man, that day light will give you leave to reach. May it please you then good Father (repliedAngelina) seeing I cannot travaile any whether else; For Gods sake, to let me remaine heere with you this night. Daughter answered the good old man, wee can gladly give you entertainement here, for this night, in such poore manner as you see: but let mee tell you withall, that up and downe these wooddes (as well by night as day) walke companies of all conditions, and rather enimies then friends, who doe us many greevious displeasures and harmes. Now if by misfortune, you beeing heere, any such people should come, and seeing you so loovely faire, as indeed you are, offer you any shame or injurie: Alas you see it lies not in our power to lend you any helpe or succour. I thought it good (therefore) to acquaint you heerewith; because if any such mischance do happen, you should not afterward complaine of us.
The yong Maiden, seeing the time to be so farre spent, albeit the olde mans words did much dismay her, yet she thus replyed. If it be the will of heaven, both you and I shall be defended from any misfortune: but if any such mischance do happen, I account the matter lesse deserving grief, if I fall into the mercy of men, then to be devoured by wild beasts in this Forrest. So, being dismounted from her horse, and entred into the homely house; she supt poorely with the olde man and his wife, with such mean cates as their provision affoorded: and after supper, lay downe in hir garments on the same poore pallet, where the aged couple tooke their rest, and was very well contented therewith, albeit she could not refraine from sighing and weeping, to bee thus divided from her dearePedro, of whose life and welfare she greatly despaired.
When it was almost day, she heard a great noise of people travailing by, whereupon sodainly she arose, and ranne into a Garden plot, which was on the backside of the poore Cottage, espying in one of the corners a great stacke of Hay, wherein she hid her selfe, to the end, that travelling strangers might not readily finde her there in the house. Scarsely was she fully hidden, but a great company of Theeves and Villaines, finding the doore open, rushed into the Cottage, where looking round about them for some booty, they saw the Damosels horse stand ready sadled, which made them demand to whom it belonged. The good olde man, not seeing the Maiden present there, but immagining that shee had made some shift for her selfe, answered thus. Gentlemen, there is no body here but my wife and my selfe: as for this Horse, which seemeth to bee escaped from the Owner; hee came hither yesternight, and we gave him house-roome heere, rather then to be devoured by Wolves abroad. Then said the principall of the Theevish crew; This horse shall be ours, in regard he hath no other master, and let the owner come claime him of us.
When they had searched every corner of the poore Cottage, & found no such prey as they looked for, some of them went into the backe side; where they had left their Javelins and Targets, wherewith they used commonly to travaile. It fortuned, that one of them, being more subtily suspitious then the rest, thrust his Javeline into the stacke of Hay, in the very same place where the Damosell lay hidden, missing very little of killing her; for it entred so farre, that the iron head pierced quite thorough her Garments, and touched her left bare brest: whereupon, shee was ready to cry out, as fearing that she was wounded: but considering the place where she was, she lay still, and spake not a word. This disordred company, after they had fed on some young Kids, and other flesh which they brought with them thither, they went thence about their theeving exercise, taking the Damosels horse along with them.
After they were gone a good distance off, the good old man beganne thus to question his Wife. What is become (quoth hee) of our young Gentlewoman, which came so late to us yesternight? I have not seen hir to day since our arising. The old woman made answer, that she knew not where she was, and sought all about to finde her.Angelinaesfeares being well over-blowne, and hearing none of the former noise, which made her the better hope of their departure, came forth of the Hay-stack; whereof the good old man was not a little joyfull, and because she had so well escaped from them: so seeing it was now broad day-light, he sayde unto her. Now that the morning is so fairely begun, if you can be so well contented, we will bring you to a Castle, which stands about two miles and an halfe hence, where you will be sure to remaine in safety. But you must needs travaile thither on foote, because the night-walkers that happened hither, have taken away your horse with them.
Angelinamaking little or no account of such a losse, entreated them for charities sake, to conduct her to that Castle, which accordingly they did, and arrived there betweene seven and eight of the clocke. The Castle belonged to one of theOrsini, being called,Liello di Campo di Fiore, and by great good fortune, his wife was then there, she being a very vertuous and religious Lady. No sooner did shee looke uponAngelina, but shee knew her immediately, and entertaining her very willingly, requested, to know the reason of her thus arriving there: which shee at large related, and moved the Lady (who likewise knewPedroperfectly well) to much compassion, because he was a kinsman and deare friend to her Husband; and understanding how the Theeves had surprized him, shee feared, that he was slaine among them, whereupon shee spake thus toAngelina. Seeing you know not what is become of my kinsmanPedro, you shall remaine here with me, untill such time, as (if we heare no other tidings of him) you may with safety be sent backe toRome.
Pedroall this while sitting in the Tree, so full of griefe, as no man could be more; about the houre of midnight (by the bright splendour of the Moone) espied about some twenty Wolves, who, so soone as they got a sight of the Horse, ran and engirt him round about. The Horse when he perceived them so neere him, drew his head so strongly back-ward, that breaking the reines of his bridle, he laboured to escape away from them. But being beset on every side, and utterly unable to helpe himselfe, he contended with his teeth & feete in his owne defence, till they haled him violently to the ground, and tearing his body in peeces, left not a jot of him but the bare bones, and afterward ran ranging thorow the Forrest. At this sight, poorePedrowas mightily dismayed, fearing to speed no better then his Horse had done, and therefore could not devise what was best to be done; for he saw no likelihood now, of getting out of the Forrest with life. But day-light drawing on apace, and he almost dead with cold, having stood quaking so long in the Tree; at length by continuall looking every where about him, to discerne the least glimpse of any comfort; he espied a great fire, which seemed to be about halfe a mile off from him.
By this time it was broade day, when he descended downe out of the Tree, (yet not without much feare) and tooke his way towards the fire, where being arrived, he found a company of Shepheards banquetting about it, whom he curteously saluting, they tooke pity on his distresse, and welcommed him kindly. After he had tasted of such cheare as they had, and was indifferently refreshed by the good fire; hee discoursed his hard disasters to them, as also how he happened thither, desiring to know, if any Village or Castle were neere thereabout, where he might in better manner releeve himselfe. The Shepheards told him, that about a mile and an halfe from thence, was the Castle ofSignior Liello di Campo di Fiore, and that his Lady was now residing there; which was no meane comfort to poorePedro, requesting that one of them would accompany him thither, as two of them did in loving manner, to ridde him of all further feares.
When he was arrived at the Castle, and found there divers of his familiar acquaintance; he laboured to procure some meanes, that the Damosell might be sought for in the Forrest. Then the Lady calling for her, and bringing her to him; he ran and caught her in his armes, being ready to swoune with conceit of joy, for never could any man be more comforted, then he was at the sight of hisAngelina, and questionlesse, her joy was not a jot inferiour to his, such a simpathy of firme love was sealed between them. The Lady of the Castle, after shee had given them very gracious entertainement, and understood the scope of their bold adventure; shee reproved them both somewhat sharpely, for presuming so farre without the consent of their Parents. But perceiving (notwithstanding all her remonstrances) that they continued still constant in their resolution, without any inequality on either side; shee saide to her selfe. Why should this matter be any way offensive to me? They love each other loyally; they are not inferiour to one another in birth, but in fortune; they are equally loved and allied to my Husband, and their desire is both honest and honourable. Moreover, what know I, if it be the will of Heaven to have it so? Theeves intended to hang him, in malice to his name and kinred, from which hard fate he hath happily escaped. Her life was endangered by a sharpe pointed Javeline, and yet her fairer starres would not suffer her so to perish: beside, they both have escaped the fury of ravenous wild beasts, and all these are apparant signes, that future comforts should recompence former passed misfortunes; farre be it therefore from me, to hinder the appointment of the Heavens.
Then turning her selfe to them, thus shee proceeded. If your desire be to joyne in honourable marriage, I am well contented therewith, and your nuptials shall here be sollemnized at my Husbands charges. Afterward both he and I will endeavour, to make peace between you and your discontented Parents.Pedrowas not a little joyfull at her kind offer, andAngelinamuch more then he; so they were maried together in the Castle, and worthily feasted by the Lady, as Forrest entertainment could permit, and there they enjoyed the first fruits of their love. Within a short while after, the Lady and they (well mounted on Horse-backe, and attended with an honourable traine) returned toRome; where her LordLielloand shee prevailed so wel withPedroesangry Parents: that all variance ended in love and peace, and afterward they lived lovingly together, till old age made them as honourable, as their true and mutuall affection formerly had done.
MadamElizahaving ended her Tale, and heard what commendations the whole company gave thereof; the Queene commandedPhilostratus, to tell a Novell agreeing with his owne minde, who smiling thereat, thus replyed. Faire Ladies, I have beene so often checkt & snapt, for my yester dayes matter and argument of discoursing, which was both tedious and offensive to you; that if I intended to make you any amends, I should now undertake to tell such a Tale, as might put you into a mirthfull humour. Which I am determined to doe, in relating a briefe and pleasant Novell, not any way offensive (as I trust) but exemplary for some good notes of observation.
Not long since, there lived inRomania, a Knight, a very honest Gentleman, and well qualified, whose name wasMesser Lizio da Valbonna, to whom it fortuned, that (at his entrance into age) by his Lady and wife, calledJaquemina, he had a Daughter, the very choycest and goodliest gentlewoman in all those parts. Now because such a happy blessing (in their olde yeeres) was not a little comfortable to them; they thought themselves the more bound in duty, to be circumspect of her education, by keeping her out of over-frequent companies, but onely such as agreed best with their gravity, & might give the least ill example to their Daughter, who was namedCatharina; as making no doubt, but by this their provident and wary respect, to match her in mariage answerable to their liking. There was also a young Gentleman, in the very flourishing estate of his youthfull time, descended from the Family of theManardy da Brettinoro, namedMesser Ricciardo, who oftentimes frequented the House ofMesser Lizio, and was a continuall welcome guest to his Table,Messer Lizioand his wife making the like account of him, even as if he had beene their owne Sonne.
This young Gallant, perceiving the Maiden to be very beautifull, of singular behaviour, and of such yeeres as was fit for mariage, became exceedingly enamoured of her, yet concealed his affection so closely as he could; which was not so covertly caried, but that she perceived it, and grew in as good liking of him. Many times he had an earnest desire to have conference with her, which yet still he deferred, as fearing to displease her; till at the length he lighted on an apt opportunity, and boldly spake to her in this manner. FaireCatharina, I hope thou wilt not let me die for thy love?Signior Ricciardo(replyed shee suddenly againe) I hope you will extend the like mercy to me, as you desire that I should shew to you. This answere was so pleasing toMesser Ricciardo, that presently he saide. Alas deare Love, I have dedicated all my fairest fortunes onely to thy service, so that it remaineth soly in thy power, to dispose of me as best shall please thee, and to appoint such times of private conversation, as may yeeld more comfort to my poore afflicted soule.
Catherinastanding musing awhile, at last returned him this answere.Signior Ricciardo, quoth shee, you see what a restraint is set on my liberty, how short I am kept from conversing with any one, that I hold this our enterparlance now almost miraculous. But if you could devise any convenient meanes, to admit us more familiar freedome, without any prejudice to mine honour, or the least distaste of my Parents; doe but enstruct it, and I will adventure it.Ricciardohaving considered on many wayes and meanes, thought one to be the fittest of all; and therefore thus replyed.Catharina(quoth he) the onely place for our more private talking together, I conceive to be the Gallery over your Fathers Garden. If you can winne your Mother to let you lodge there, I will make meanes to climbe over the wall, and at the goodly gazing window, we may discourse so long as we please. Now trust me deare Love (answeredCatharina) no place can be more convenient for our purpose, there shall we heare the sweete Birds sing, especially the Nightingale, which I have heard singing there all the night long; I will breake the matter to my Mother, and how I speede, you shall heare further from me. So, with divers parting kisses, they brake off conference, till their next meeting.
On the day following, which was towards the ending of the moneth ofMay, Catharinabegan to complaine to her Mother, that the season was over-hot and tedious, to be still lodged in her Mothers Chamber, because it was an hinderance to her sleeping; and wanting rest, it would be an empairing of her health. Why Daughter (quoth the Mother) the weather (as yet) is not so hot, but (in my minde) you may very well endure it. Alas Mother, said shee, aged people, as you and my Father are, doe not feele the heates of youthfull bloud, by reason of your farre colder complexion, which is not to be measured by younger yeeres. I know that well Daughter, replyed the Mother; but is it in my power, to make the weather warme or coole, as thou perhaps wouldst have it? Seasons are to be suffered, according to their severall qualities; and though the last night might seeme hot, this next ensuing may be cooler, and then thy rest will be the better. No Mother, quothCatherina, that cannot be; for as Summer proceedeth on, so the heate encreaseth, and no expectation can be of temperate weather, untill it groweth to Winter againe. Why Daughter, saide the Mother, what wouldest thou have me to doe? Mother (quoth shee) if it might stand with my Fathers good liking and yours, I would be lodged in the Garden Gallery, which is a great deale more coole, and temperate. There shall I heare the sweete Nightingale sing, as every night shee useth to doe, and many other pretty Birds beside, which I cannot doe, lodging in your Chamber.
The Mother loving her Daughter dearely, as being some-what over-fond of her, and very willing to give her contentment; promised to impart her minde to her Father, not doubting but to compasse what shee requested. When shee had moved the matter toMesser Lizio, whose age made him somewhat froward and teasty; angerly he said to his wife. Why how now woman? Cannot our Daughter sleepe, except shee heare the Nightingale sing? Let there be a bed made for her in the Oven, and there let the Crickets make her melody. WhenCatharinaheard this answere from her Father, and saw her desire to be disappointed; not onely could shee not take any rest the night following, but also complained more of the heate then before, not suffering her Mother to take any rest, which made her goe angerly to her Husband in the morning, saying. Why Husband, have we but one onely Daughter, whom you pretend to love right dearely, and yet can you be so carelesse of her, as to denie her a request, which is no more then reason? What matter is it to you or me, to let her lodge in the Garden Gallery? Is her young bloud to be compared with ours? Can our weake and crazie bodies, feele the frolicke temper of hers? Alas, shee is hardly (as yet) out of her childish yeeres, and Children have many desires farre differing from ours: the singing of Birds is rare musicke to them, and chiefly the Nightingale; whose sweete notes will provoke them to rest, when neither art or physicke can doe it.
Is it even so Wife? answeredMesser Lizio. Must your will and mine be governed by our Daughter? Well be it so then, let her bed be made in the Garden Gallerie, but I will have the keeping of the key, both to locke her in at night, and set her at libertie every morning. Woman, woman, young wenches are wily, many wanton crochets are busie in their braines, and to us that are aged, they sing like Lapwings, telling us one thing, and intending another; talking of Nightingales, when their mindes run on Cocke-Sparrowes. Seeing Wife, shee must needes have her minde, let yet your care and mine extend so farre, to keepe her chastity uncorrupted, and our credulity from being abused.Catharinahaving thus prevailed with her Mother, her bed made in the Garden Gallery, and secret intelligence given toRicciardo, for preparing his meanes of accesse to her window; old providentLiziolockes the doore to bed-ward, and gives her liberty to come forth in the morning, for his owne lodging was neere to the same Gallery.
In the dead and silent time of night, when all (but Lovers) take their rest;Ricciardohaving provided a Ladder of Ropes, with grapling hookes to take hold above and below, according as he had occasion to use it. By helpe thereof, first he mounted over the Garden wall, and then climbde up to the Gallery window, before which (as is every where inItalie) was a little round engirting Tarras, onely for a man to stand upon, for making cleane the window, or otherwise repairing it. Many nights (in this manner) enjoyed they their meetings, entermixing their amorous conference with infinite kisses and kinde embraces, as the window gave leave, he sitting in the Tarras, and departing alwayes before breake of day, for feare of being discovered by any.
But, as excesse of delight is the Nurse to negligence, and begetteth such an over-presuming boldnesse, as afterward proveth to be sauced with repentance: so came it to passe with our over-fond Lovers, in being taken tardy through their owne folly. After they had many times met in this manner, the nights (according to the season) growing shorter and shorter, which their stolne delight made them lesse respective of, then was requisite in an adventure so dangerous: it fortuned, that their amorous pleasure had so farre transported them, and dulled their sences in such sort, by these their continued nightly watchings; that they both fell fast asleepe, he having his hand closed in hers, and shee one arme folded about his body, and thus they slept till broade day light. OldMesser Lizio, who continually was the morning Cocke to the whole House, going foorth into his Garden, saw how his Daughter andRicciardowere seated at the window. In he went againe, and going to his wives Chamber, saide to her. Rise quickly wife, and you shall see, what made our Daughter so desirous to lodge in the Garden Gallery. I perceive that shee loved to heare the Nightingale, for shee hath caught one, and holds him fast in her hand. Is it possible, saide the Mother, that our Daughter should catch a live Nightingale in the darke? You shall see that your selfe, answeredMesser Lizio, if you will make haste, and goe with me.
Shee, putting on her garments in great haste, followed her Husband, and being come to the Gallery doore, he opened it very softly, and going to the window, shewed her how they both sate fast asleepe, and in such manner as hath been before declared: whereupon, shee perceiving howRicciardoandCatharinahad both deceived her, would have made an outcry, but thatMesser Liziospake thus to her. Wife, as you love me, speake not a word, neither make any noyse: for, seeing shee hath lovedRicciardowithout our knowledge, and they have had their private meetings in this manner, yet free from any blamefull imputation; he shall enjoy her, and shee him.Ricciardois a Gentleman, well derived, and of rich possessions, it can be no disparagement to us, thatCatharinamatch with him in mariage, which he neither shall, or dare denie to doe, in regard of our Lawes severity; for climbing up to my window with his Ladder of Ropes, whereby his life is forfeited to the Law, except our Daughter please to spare it, as it remaineth in her power to doe, by accepting him as her husband, or yeelding his life up to the Law, which surely shee will not suffer, their love agreeing together in such mutuall manner, and he adventuring so dangerously for her.
MadamJaquemina, perceiving that her husband spake very reasonably, and was no more offended at the matter; stept aside with him behinde the drawne Curtaines, untill they should awake of themselves. At the last,Ricciardoawaked, and seeing it was so farre in the day, thought himselfe halfe dead, and calling toCatharina, saide. Alas deare Love! what shall we doe? we have slept too long, and shall be taken here. At which words,Messer Liziostept forth from behind the Curtaines, saying. Nay,Signior Ricciardo, seeing you have found such an unbefitting way hither, we will provide you a better for your backe returning. WhenRicciardosaw the Father and Mother both there present, he could not devise what to doe or say, his sences became so strangely confounded; yet knowing how hainously hee had offended, if the strictnesse of Law should be challenged against him, falling on his knees, he saide. AlasMesser Lizio, I humbly crave your mercy, confessing my selfe well worthy of death, that knowing the sharpe rigour of the Law, I would presume so audaciously to breake it. But pardon me worthy Sir, my loyall and unfeined love to your DaughterCatharina, hath beene the onely cause of my transgressing.
Ricciardo(replyedMesser Lizio) the love I beare thee, and the honest confidence I doe repose in thee, step up (in some measure) to pleade thine excuse, especially in the regard of my Daughter, whom I blame thee not for loving, but for this unlawfull way of presuming to her. Neverthelesse, perceiving how the case now standeth, and considering withall, that youth and affection were the ground of thine offence: to free thee from death, and my selfe from dishonour, before thou departest hence, thou shalt espouse my DaughterCatharina, to make her thy lawfull wife in mariage, and wipe off all scandall to my House and me. All this while was pooreCatharinaon her knees likewise to her Mother, who (notwithstanding this her bold adventure) made earnest suite to her Husband to remit all, becauseRicciardoright gladly condiscended, as it being the maine issue of his hope and desire; to accept hisCatharinain mariage, whereto shee was as willing as he.Messer Liziopresently called for the Confessour of his House, and borrowing one of his Wives Rings, before they went out of the Gallery;RicciardoandCatharinawere espoused together, to their no little joy and contentment.
Now had they more leasure for further conference, with the Parents and kindred toRicciardo, who being no way discontented with this sudden match, but applauding it in the highest degree; they were publikely maried againe in the Cathedrall Church, and very honourable triumphes performed at the nuptials, living long after in happy prosperity.
All the Ladies laughing heartily, at the Novell of the Nightingale, so pleasingly delivered byPhilostratus, when they saw the same to be fully ended, the Queene thus spake. Now trust mePhilostratus, though yester-day you did much oppresse mee with melancholy, yet you have made me such an amends to day, as wee have little reason to complaine any more of you. So converting her speech to MadamNeiphila, shee commanded her to succeede with her discourse, which willingly she yeelded to, beginning in this manner. Seeing it pleasedPhilostratus, to produce his Novell out ofRomania: I meane to walke with him in the same jurisdiction, concerning what I am to say.
There dwelt sometime in the City ofFano, two Lombards, the one being namedGuidottoofCremona, and the otherJacominoofPavia, men of sufficient entrance into yeeres, having followed the warres (as Souldiers) all their youthfull time.Guidottofeeling sicknesse to over-master him, and having no sonne, kinsman, or friend, in whom he might repose more trust, then hee did inJacomino: having long conference with him about his worldly affaires, and setled his whole estate in good order; he left a Daughter to his charge, about ten yeeres of age, with all such goods as he enjoyed, and then departed out of this life. It came to passe, that the City ofFaenza, long time being molested with tedious warres, and subjected to very servile condition; beganne now to recover her former strength, with free permission (for all such as pleased) to returne and possesse their former dwellings. Whereupon,Jacomino(having sometime beene an inhabitant there) was desirous to live inFaenzaagaine, convaying thither all his goods, and taking with him also the young girle, whichGuidottohad left him, whom hee loved, and respected as his owne childe.
As shee grew in stature, so shee did in beauty and vertuous qualities, as none was more commended throughout the whole City, for faire, civill, and honest demeanour, which incited many amorously to affect her. But (above all the rest) two very honest young men, of good fame and repute, who were so equally in love addicted to her, that being jealous of each others fortune, in preventing of their severall hopefull expectation; a deadly hatred grew suddenly betweene them, the one being named,Giovanni de Severino, and the otherMenghino da Minghole. Either of these two young men, before the Maide was fifteene yeeres old, laboured to be possessed of her in marriage, but her Guardian would give no consent thereto: wherefore, perceiving their honest intended meaning to be frustrated, they now began to busie their braines, how to forestall one another by craft and circumvention.
Jacominohad a Maide-servant belonging to his House, somewhat aged, and a Man-servant beside, namedGrivello, of mirthfull disposition, and very friendly, with whomGiovannigrew in great familiarity; and when he found time fit for the purpose, he discovered his love to him, requesting his furtherance and assistance, in compassing the height of his desire, with bountifull promises of rich rewarding; wheretoGrivelloreturned this answere. I know not how to sted you in this case, but when my Master shall sup foorth at some Neighbours House, to admit your entrance where she is: because, if I offer to speake to her, shee never will stay to heare me. Wherefore, if my service this way may doe you any good, I promise to performe it; doe you beside, as you shall find it most convenient for you. So the bargaine was agreed on betweene them, and nothing else now remained, but to what issue it should sort in the end.
Menghino, on the other side, having entred into the Chamber-maides acquaintance, sped so well with her, that shee delivered so many messages from him, as had (already) halfe won the liking of the Virgin; passing further promises to him beside, of bringing him to have conference with her, whensoever her Master should be absent from home. ThusMenghinobeing favoured (on the one side) by the olde Chamber-maide, andGiovanni(on the other) by trustyGrivello; their amorous warre was now on foote, and diligently followed by both their sollicitors. Within a short while after, by the procurement ofGrivello, Jacominowas invited by a neighbour to supper, in company of divers his very familiar friends, whereof intelligence being given toGiovanni; a conclusion passed betweene them, that (upon a certaine signale given) he should come, and finde the doore standing ready open, to give him all accesse unto the affected Mayden.
The appointed night being come, and neither of these hot Lovers knowing the others intent, but their suspition being alike, and encreasing still more and more; they made choyce of certaine friends and associates, well armed and provided, for eithers safer entrance when neede should require.Menghinostayed with his troope, in a neere neighbouring house to the Mayden, attending when the signall would be given: butGiovanniand his consorts, were ambushed somewhat further off from the House, and both saw whenJacominowent foorth to supper. NowGrivelloand the Chamber-maide began to vary, which should send the other out of the way, till they had effected their severall intention; whereuponGrivellosaid to her. What maketh thee to walke thus about the House, and why doest thou not get thee to bed? And thou (quoth the Maide) why doest thou not goe to attend on our Master, and tarry for his returning home? I am sure thou hast supt long agoe, and I know no businesse here in the House for thee to doe. Thus (by no meanes) the one could send away the other, but either remained as the others hinderance.
ButGrivelloremembring himselfe, that the houre of his appointment withGiovanniwas come, he saide to himselfe. What care I whether our olde Maide be present, or no? If shee disclose any thing that I doe, I can be revenged on her when I list. So, having made the signall, he went to open the doore, even whenGiovanni(and two of his confederates) rushed into the House, and finding the faire young Maiden sitting in the Hall, laide hands on her, to beare her away. The Damosell began to resist them, crying out for helpe so loude as shee could, as the olde Chamber-maide did the like: whichMenghinohearing, he ranne thither presently with his friends, and seeing the young Damosell brought well-neere out of the House; they drew their Swords, crying out: Traytors, you are but dead men, here is no violence to be offered, neither is this a booty for such base groomes. So they layed about them lustily, and would not permit them to passe any further. On the other side, upon this mutinous noyse and out-cry, the Neighbours came foorth of their Houses, with lights, staves, and clubbes, greatly reproving them for this out-rage, yet assistingMenghino: by meanes whereof, after a long time of contention,Menghinorecovered the Mayden fromGiovanni, and placed her peaceably inJacominoesHouse.
No sooner was this hurly-burly somewhat calmed, but the Serjeants to the Captaine of the City, came thither, and apprehended divers of the mutiners: among whom wereMenghino, Giovanni,andGrivello, committing them immediately to prison. But after every thing was pacified, andJacominoreturned home to his House from supper; he was not a little offended at so grosse an injury. When he was fully informed, how the matter happened, and apparantly perceived, that no blame at all could be imposed on the Mayden: he grew the better contented, resolving with himselfe (because no more such inconveniences should happen) to have her married so soone as possibly he could.
When morning was come, the kindred and friends on either side, understanding the truth of the error committed, and knowing beside, what punishment would be inflicted on the prisoners, ifJacominopressed the matter no further, then as with reason and equity well he might; they repaired to him, and (in gentle speeches) entreated him, not to regard a wrong offered by unruly and youthfull people, meerely drawne into the action by perswasion of friends; submitting both themselves, and the offendors, to such satisfaction as he pleased to appoint them.Jacomino, who had seene and observed many things in his time, and was a man of sound understanding, returned them this answere.
Gentlemen, if I were in mine owne Countrey, as now I am in yours; I would as forwardly confesse my selfe your friend, as here I must needes fall short of any such service, but even as you shall please to command me. But plainely, and without all further ceremonious complement, I must agree to whatsoever you can request; as thinking you to be more injured by me, then any great wrong that I have sustained. Concerning the young Damosell remaining in my House, shee is not (as many have imagined) either ofCremona, orPavia, but borne aFaentine, here in this Citie: albeit neither my selfe, shee, or he of whom I had her, did ever know it, or yet could learne whose Daughter shee was. Wherefore, the suite you make to me, should rather (in duty) be mine to you: for shee is a native of your owne, doe right to her, and then you can doe no wrong unto mee.
When the Gentlemen understood, that the Mayden was borne inFaenza, they marvelled thereat, and after they had thankedJacominofor his curteous answer; they desired him to let them know, by what meanes the Damosell came into his custody, and how he knew her to be borne inFaenza: when he, perceiving them attentive to heare him, began in this manner.
Understand worthy Gentlemen, thatGuidottoofCremona, was my companion and deare friend, who growing neere to his death, tolde me, that when this City was surprized by the EmperourFrederigo, and all things committed to sacke and spoile; he and certaine of his confederates entred into a House, which they found to be well furnished with goods, but utterly forsaken of the dwellers, onely this poore Mayden excepted, being then aged but two yeeres, or thereabout. As hee mounted up the steps, with intent to depart from the House; she called him Father, which word moved him so compassionately: that he went backe againe, brought her away with him, and all things of worth which were in the House, going thence afterward toFano, and there deceasing, he left her and all his goods to my charge; conditionally, that I should see her maried when due time required, and bestow on her the wealth which he had left her. Now, very true it is, although her yeeres are convenient for mariage, yet I could never find any one to bestow her on, at least that I thought fitting for her: howbeit, I will listen thereto much more respectively, before any other such accident shall happen.
It came to passe, that in the reporting of this discourse, there was then a Gentleman in the company, namedGuillemino da Medicina, who at the surprizal of the City, was present withGuidottoofCremona, and knew well the House which he had ransacked, the owner whereof was also present with him, wherefore taking him aside, he saide to him.Bernardino, hearest thou whatJacominohath related? yes very wel, replyedBernardino, and remember withall, that in that dismall bloody combustion, I lost a little Daughter, about the age asJacominospeaketh. Questionlesse then, repliedGuillemino, shee must needes be the same young Mayden, for I was there at the same time, and in the House, whenceGuidottodid bring both the girle and goods, and I doe perfectly remember, that it was thy House. I pray thee call to minde, if ever thou sawest any scarre or marke about her, which may revive thy former knowledge of her, for my minde perswades me, that the Maide is thy Daughter.
Bernardinomusing a while with himselfe, remembred, that under her left eare, shee had a scarre, in the forme of a little crosse, which happened by the byting of a Wolfe, and but a small while before the spoyle was made. Wherefore, without deferring it to any further time, he stept toJacomino(who as yet staied there) and entreated him to fetch the Mayden from his house, because shee might be knowne to some in the company: whereto right willingly he condiscended, and there presented the Maide before them. So soone asBernardinobeheld her, he began to be much inwardly moved; for the perfect character of her Mothers countenance, was really figured in her sweete face, onely that her beauty was somewhat more excelling. Yet not herewith satisfied, he desiredJacominoto be so pleased, as to lift up a little the lockes of haire, depending over her left eare.Jacominodid it presently, albeit with a modest blushing in the maide, andBernardinolooking advisedly on it, knew it to be the selfe same crosse; which confirmed her constantly to be his Daughter.
Overcome with excesse of joy, which made the teares to trickle downe his cheekes, he proffered to embrace and kisse the Maide: but she resisting his kindnesse, because (as yet) shee knew no reason for it, he turned himselfe toJacomino, saying. My deare brother and friend, this Maide is my Daughter, and my House was the same whichGuidottospoyled, in the generall havocke of our City, and thence he carried this child of mine, forgotten (in the fury) by my Wife her Mother. But happy was the houre of his becomming her Father, and carrying her away with him; for else she had perished in the fire, because the House was instantly burnt downe to the ground. The Mayden hearing his words, observing him also to be a man of yeeres and gravity: shee beleeved what he saide, and humbly submitted her selfe to his kisses & embraces, even as instructed thereto by instinct of nature.Bernardinoinstantly sent for his wife, her owne mother, his daughters, sonnes, and kindred, who being acquainted with this admirable accident, gave her most gracious and kind welcome, he receiving her fromJacominoas his childe, and the legacies whichGuidottohad left her.
When the Captaine of the City (being a very wise and worthy Gentleman) heard these tydings, and knowing thatGiovanni, then his prisoner, was the Son toBernardino, and naturall Brother to the newly recovered Maide; he bethought himselfe, how best he might qualifie the fault committed by him. And entring into the Hall among them, handled the matter so discreetly, that a loving league of peace was confirmed betweeneGiovanniandMenghino, to whom (with free and full consent on all sides) the faire Maide, namedAgatha, was given in marriage, with a more honourable enlargement of her dowry, andGrivello, with the rest, delivered out of prison, which for their tumultuous riot they had justly deserved.MenghinoandAgathahad their wedding worthily sollemnized, with all due honours belonging thereto; and long time after they lived inFaenza, highly beloved, and graciously esteemed.