The Decameron (81 page)

HERE ENDETH THE TENTH AND LAST DAY OF THE DECAMERON

Conclusion of the Author

Most noble damsels, for whose solace I have addressed myself to so long a labour, I have now, methinketh, with the aid of the Divine favour, (vouchsafed me, as I deem, for your pious prayers and not for my proper merits,) throughly accomplished that which I engaged, at the beginning of this present work, to do; wherefore, returning thanks first to God and after to you, it behoveth to give rest to my pen and to my tired hand. Which ere I accord them, I purpose briefly to reply, as to objections tacitly broached, to certain small matters that may peradventure be alleged by some one of you or by others, since meseemeth very certain that these stories have no especial privilege more than other things; nay, I mind me to have shown, at the beginning of the fourth day, that they have none such. There are, peradventure, some of you who will say that I have used overmuch license in inditing these stories, as well as in making ladies whiles say and very often hearken to things not very seemly either to be said or heard of modest women. This I deny, for that there is nothing so unseemly as to be forbidden unto any one, so but he express it in seemly terms, as meseemeth indeed I have here very aptly done. But let us suppose that it is so (for that I mean not to plead with you, who would overcome me,) I say that many reasons very readily offer themselves in answer why I have done this. Firstly, if there be aught thereof
[486]
in any of them, the nature of the stories required it, the which, an they be considered with the rational eye of a person of understanding, it will be abundantly manifest that I could not have otherwise recounted, an I would not altogether disfeature them. And if perchance there be therein some tittle, some wordlet or two freer, maybe, than liketh your squeamish hypocritical prudes, who weigh words rather than deeds and study more to appear, than to be, good, I say that it should no more be forbidden me to write them than it is commonly forbidden unto men and women to say all day long
hole
and
peg
and
mortar
and
pestle
and
sausage
and
polony
and all manner like things; without reckoning that no less liberty should be accorded to my pen than is conceded to the brush of the limner, who, without any (or, at the least, any just) reprehension, maketh—let be St. Michael smite the serpent with sword or spear and St. George the dragon, whereas it pleaseth them—but Adam male and Eve female and affixeth to the cross, whiles with one nail and whiles with two, the feet of Him Himself who willed for the salvation of the human race to die upon the rood. Moreover, it is eath enough to see that these things are spoken, not in the church, of the affairs whereof it behoveth to speak with a mind and in terms alike of the chastest (albeit among its histories there are tales enough to be found of anothergates fashion than those written by me), nor yet in the schools of philosophy, where decency is no less required than otherwhere, nor among churchmen or philosophers anywhere, but amidst gardens, in a place of pleasance and diversion and among men and women, though young, yet of mature wit and not to be led astray by stories, at a time when it was not forbidden to the most virtuous to go, for their own preservation, with their breeches on their heads. Again, such as they are, these stories, like everything else, can both harm and profit, according to the disposition of the listener. Who knoweth not that wine, though, according to Cinciglione and Scolajo
[487]
and many others, an excellent thing for people in health,
[488]
is hurtful unto whoso hath the fever? Shall we say, then, because it harmeth the fevered, that it is naught? Who knoweth not that fire is most useful, nay, necessary to mortals? Shall we say, because it burneth houses and villages and cities, that it is naught? Arms on like wise assure the welfare of those who desire to live in peace and yet oftentimes slay men, not of any malice of their own, but of the perversity of those who use them wrongfully. Corrupt mind never understood word healthily, and even as seemly words profit not depraved minds, so those which are not altogether seemly avail not to contaminate the well–disposed, any more than mire can sully the rays of the sun or earthly foulness the beauties of the sky. What books, what words, what letters are holier, worthier, more venerable than those of the Divine Scriptures? Yet many there be, who, interpreting them perversely, have brought themselves and others to perdition. Everything in itself is good unto somewhat and ill used, may be in many things harmful; and so say I of my stories. If any be minded to draw therefrom ill counsel or ill practice, they will nowise forbid it him, if perchance they have it in them or be strained and twisted into having it; and who so will have profit and utility thereof, they will not deny it him, nor will they be ever styled or accounted other than useful and seemly, if they be read at those times and to those persons for which and for whom they have been recounted. Whoso hath to say paternosters or to make tarts and puddings for her spiritual director, let her leave them be; they will not run after any to make her read them; albeit your she–saints themselves now and again say and even do fine things.

There be some ladies also who will say that there are some stories here, which had been better away. Granted; but I could not nor should write aught save those actually related, wherefore those who told them should have told them goodly and I would have written them goodly. But, if folk will e'en pretend that I am both the inventor and writer thereof (which I am not), I say that I should not take shame to myself that they were not all alike goodly, for that there is no craftsman living (barring God) who doth everything alike well and completely; witness Charlemagne, who was the first maker of the Paladins, but knew not to make so many thereof that he might avail to form an army of them alone. In the multitude of things, needs must divers qualities thereof be found. No field was ever so well tilled but therein or nettles or thistles or somewhat of briers or other weeds might be found mingled with the better herbs. Besides, having to speak to simple lasses, such as you are for the most part, it had been folly to go seeking and wearying myself to find very choice and exquisite matters, and to use great pains to speak very measuredly. Algates, whoso goeth reading among these, let him leave those which offend and read those which divert. They all, not to lead any one into error, bear branded upon the forefront that which they hold hidden within their bosoms.

Again, I doubt not but there be those who will say that some of them are overlong; to whom I say again that whoso hath overwhat to do doth folly to read these stories, even though they were brief. And albeit a great while is passed from the time when I began to write to this present hour whenas I come to the end of my toils, it hath not therefor escaped my memory that I proffered this my travail to idle women and not to others, and unto whoso readeth to pass away the time, nothing can be overlong, so but it do that for which he useth it. Things brief are far better suited unto students, who study, not to pass away, but usefully to employ time, than to you ladies, who have on your hands all the time that you spend not in the pleasures of love; more by token that, as none of you goeth to Athens or Bologna or Paris to study, it behoveth to speak to you more at large than to those who have had their wits whetted by study. Again, I doubt not a jot but there be yet some of you who will say that the things aforesaid are full of quips and cranks and quodlibets and that it ill beseemeth a man of weight and gravity to have written thus. To these I am bound to render and do render thanks, for that, moved by a virtuous jealousy, they are so tender of my fame; but to their objection I reply on this wise; I confess to being a man of weight and to have been often weighed in my time, wherefore, speaking to those ladies who have not weighed me, I declare that I am not heavy; nay, I am so light that I abide like a nutgall in water, and considering that the preachments made of friars, to rebuke men of their sins, are nowadays for the most part seen full of quips and cranks and gibes, I conceived that these latter would not sit amiss in my stories written to ease women of melancholy. Algates, an they should laugh overmuch on that account, the Lamentations of Jeremiah, the Passion of our Saviour and the Complaint of Mary Magdalen will lightly avail to cure them thereof.

Again, who can doubt but there will to boot be found some to say that I have an ill tongue and a venomous, for that I have in sundry places written the truth anent the friars? To those who shall say thus it must be forgiven, since it is not credible that they are moved by other than just cause, for that the friars are a good sort of folk, who eschew unease for the love of God and who grind with a full head of water and tell no tales, and but that they all savour somewhat of the buck–goat, their commerce would be far more agreeable. Natheless, I confess that the things of this world have no stability and are still on the change, and so may it have befallen of my tongue, the which, not to trust to mine own judgment, (which I eschew as most I may in my affairs,) a she–neighbour of mine told me, not long since, was the best and sweetest in the world; and in good sooth, were this the case, there had been few of the foregoing stories to write. But, for that those who say thus speak despitefully, I will have that which hath been said suffice them for a reply; wherefore, leaving each of you henceforth to say and believe as seemeth good to her, it is time for me to make an end of words, humbly thanking Him who hath, after so long a labour, brought us with His help to the desired end. And you, charming ladies, abide you in peace with His favour, remembering you of me, if perchance it profit any of you aught to have read these stories.

HERE ENDETH THE BOOK CALLED DECAMERON AND SURNAMED PRINCE GALAHALT

Footnotes

[1]
i.e.
those not in love.

[2]
Syn. adventures (
casi
).

[3]
i.e.
the few pages of which he speaks above.

[4]
Syn. provisions made or means taken (
consigli dati
). Boccaccio constantly uses
consiglio
in this latter sense.

[5]
Syn. help, remedy.

[6]
Accidente
, what a modern physician would call "complication.""Symptom" does not express the whole meaning of the Italian word.

[7]
i.e.
aromatic drugs.

[8]
i.e.
gravediggers (
becchini
).

[9]
Lit.
four
or six. This is the equivalent Italian idiom.

[10]
i.e.
but few tapers.

[11]
i.e.
expectation of gain from acting as tenders of the sick, gravediggers, etc. The word
speranza
is, however, constantly used by Dante and his follower Boccaccio in the contrary sense of "fear," and may be so meant in the present instance.

[12]
i.e.
the cross.

[13]
i.e.
walled burghs.

[14]
i.e.
in miniature.

[15]
Or character (
qualità
).

[16]
I know of no explanation of these names by the commentators, who seem, indeed, after the manner of their kind, to have generally confined themselves to the elaborate illustration and elucidation (or rather, alas! too often, obscuration) of passages already perfectly plain, leaving the difficult passages for the most part untouched. The following is the best I can make of them.
Pampinea
appears to be formed from the Greek πάν, all, and πινυω, I advise, admonish or inform, and to mean all–advising or admonishing, which would agree well enough with the character of Pampinea, who is represented as the eldest and sagest of the female personages of the Decameron and as taking the lead in everything.
Fiammetta
is the name by which Boccaccio designates his mistress, the Princess Maria of Naples (the lady for whom he cherished "the very high and noble passion" of which he speaks in his Proem), in his earlier opuscule, the "Elégia di Madonna Fiammetta," describing, in her name, the torments of separation from the beloved. In this work he speaks of himself under the name of Pamfilo (Gr. πάν, all, and φιλέω, I love,
i.e.
the all–loving or the passionate lover), and it is probable, therefore, that under these names he intended to introduce his royal ladylove and himself in the present work.
Filomena
(Italian form of Philomela, a nightingale, Greek φίλος loving, and μέλος, melody, song,
i.e.
song–loving) is perhaps so styled for her love of music, and
Emilia's
character, as it appears in the course of the work, justifies the derivation of her name from the Greek αιμυλιος, pleasing, engaging in manners and behaviour, cajoling.
Lauretta
Boccaccio probably intends us to look upon as a learned lady, if, as we may suppose, her name is a corruption of
laureata
, laurel–crowned; whilst
Neifile's
name (Greek νειός [νεός] new, and φιλέω, I love,
i.e.
novelty–loving) stamps her as being of a somewhat curious disposition, eager "to tell or to hear some new thing." The name
Elisa
is not so easily to be explained as the others; possibly it was intended by the author as a reminiscence of Dido, to whom the name (which is by some authorities explained to mean "Godlike," from a Hebrew root) is said to have been given "quòd plurima supra animi muliebris fortitudinem gesserit." It does not, however, appear that there was in Elisa's character or life anything to justify the implied comparison.

[17]
This phrase may also be read "persuading themselves that that (
i.e.
their breach of the laws of obedience, etc.) beseemeth them and is forbidden only to others" (
faccendosi a credere che quello a lor si convenga e non si disdica che all' altre
); but the reading in the text appears more in harmony with the general sense and is indeed indicated by the punctuation of the Giunta Edition of 1527, which I generally follow in case of doubt.

[18]
Syn. cooler.

[19]
See ante, p. 8, note.

[20]
Filostrato
, Greek φίλος, loving, and στρατός, army,
met.
strife, war,
i.e.
one who loves strife. This name appears to be a reminiscence of Boccaccio's poem (
Il Filostrato
, well known through its translation by Chaucer and the Senechal d'Anjou) upon the subject of the loves of Troilus and Cressida and to be in this instance used by him as a synonym for an unhappy lover, whom no rebuffs, no treachery can divert from his ill–starred passion. Such a lover may well be said to be in love with strife, and that the Filostrato of the Decameron sufficiently answers to this description we learn later on from his own lips.

[21]
Dioneo
, a name probably coined from the Greek Διώνη, one of the
agnomina
of Venus (properly her mother's name) and intended to denote the amorous temperament of his personage, to which, indeed, the erotic character of most of the stories told by him bears sufficient witness.

[22]
e prima mandato là dove
, etc. This passage is obscure and may be read to mean "and having first despatched [a messenger] (or sent [word]) whereas," etc. I think, however, that
mandato
is a copyist's error for
mandata
, in which case the meaning would be as in the text.

[23]
Or balconies (
loggie
).

[24]
i.e.
Nine o'clock a.m. Boccaccio's habit of measuring time by the canonical hours has been a sore stumbling–block to the ordinary English and French translator, who is generally terribly at sea as to his meaning, inclining to render
tierce
three,
sexte
six o'clock and
none
noon and making shots of the same wild kind at the other hours. The monasterial rule (which before the general introduction of clocks was commonly followed by the mediæval public in the computation of time) divided the twenty–four hours of the day and night into seven parts (six of three hours each and one of six), the inception of which was denoted by the sound of the bells that summoned the clergy to the performance of the seven canonical offices
i.e.
Matins
at 3 a.m.,
Prime
at 6 a.m.,
Tierce
at 9 a.m.,
Sexte
or Noonsong at noon,
None
at 3 p.m.,
Vespers
or Evensong at 6 p.m. and
Complines
or Nightsong at 9 p.m., and at the same time served the laity as a clock.

[25]
The table of Boccaccio's time was a mere board upon trestles, which when not in actual use, was stowed away, for room's sake, against the wall.

[26]
i.e.
to take the siesta or midday nap common in hot countries.

[27]
i.e.
three o'clock p.m.

[28]
i.e.
backgammon.

[29]
Or procurators.

[30]
A Florentine merchant settled in France; he had great influence over Philippe le Bel and made use of the royal favour to enrich himself by means of monopolies granted at the expense of his compatriots.

[31]
Charles, Comte de Valois et d'Alençon.

[32]
Philippe le Bel, A.D. 1268–1314.

[33]
The Eighth.

[34]
Sic.
Cepparello
means a log or stump. Ciapperello is apparently a dialectic variant of the same word.

[35]
Diminutive of Cappello. This passage is obscure and most likely corrupt. Boccaccio probably meant to write "hat" instead of "chaplet" (
ghirlanda
), as the meaning of
cappello
, chaplet (diminutive of Old English
chapel
, a hat,) being the meaning of
ciappelletto
(properly
cappelletto
).

[36]
i.e.
false instruments.

[37]
A "twopence–coloured" sketch of an impossible villain, drawn with a crudeness unusual in Boccaccio.

[38]
i.e.
if there be such a thing as a holy and worthy friar.

[39]
i.e.
ex voto.

[40]
It will be noted that this is Boccaccio's third variant of his hero's name (the others being Ciapperello and Cepparello) and the edition of 1527 furnishes us with a fourth and a fifth form
i.e.
Ciepparello and Ciepperello.

[41]
i.e.
a story.

[42]
i.e.
of God's benignness.

[43]
Lit. cardinal brethren (
fratelli cardinali
).

[44]
Lit. losing (
perdendo
), but this is probably some copyist's mistake for
podendo
, the old form of
potendo
, availing.

[45]
i.e.
stood sponsor for him.

[46]
Lit. amorous (
amorose
), but Boccaccio frequently uses
amoroso
,
vago
, and other adjectives, which are now understood in an active or transitive sense only, in their ancient passive or intransitive sense of lovesome, desirable, etc.

[47]
Compagne
,
i.e.
she–companions. Filomena is addressing the female part of the company.

[48]
Lit. his church (
sua chiesa
); but the context seems to indicate that the monastery itself is meant.

[49]
Lit. a pressure or oppression (
priemere
, hod.
premere
, to press or oppress, indicative used as a noun). The monk of course refers to the posture in which he had seen the abbot have to do with the girl, pretending to believe that he placed her on his own breast (instead of mounting on hers) out of a sentiment of humility and a desire to mortify his flesh
ipsâ in voluptate
.

[50]
An evident allusion to Boccaccio's passion for the Princess Maria,
i.e.
Fiammetta herself.

[51]
Or standard–bearer.

[52]
i.e.
the One–eyed (syn. le myope, the short–sighted, the Italian word [
Il Bornio
] having both meanings),
i.e.
Philip II. of France, better known as Philip Augustus.

[53]
i.e.
with sword and whips, a technical term of ecclesiastical procedure, about equivalent to our "with the strong arm of the law."

[54]
i.e.
a lover of money.

[55]
A notorious drinker of the time.

[56]
i.e.
money.

[57]
"And every one that hath forsaken houses or brethren or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or lands for my name's sake shall receive an hundredfold and shall inherit everlasting life."—Matthew xix. 29. Boccaccio has garbled the passage for the sake of his point.

[58]
Syn. gluttonous (
brodajuola
).

[59]
i.e.
gleemen, minstrels, story–tellers, jugglers and the like, lit. men of court (
uomini di corte
).

[60]
Dinne alcuna cosa.
If we take the affix
ne
(thereof, of it), in its other meaning (as dative of
noi
, we), of "to us," this phrase will read "Tell somewhat thereof,"
i.e.
of the cause of thy melancholy.