Chapter VIII: Part 8

75.—“Those witticisms also are very clever in which we take from our interlocutor’s lips something that he does not mean. And of this kind, methinks, was my lord Duke’s reply to the castellan who lost San Leo[275] when this duchy was taken by Pope Alexander and given to Duke Valentino;[276] and it was this: my lord Duke being in Venice at the time I have mentioned, many of his subjects came continually to give him secret news how things were faring in his state; and among the rest came this castellan, who, after having excused himself as best he could, ascribing the blame to mischance, said: ‘Have no anxiety, my Lord, because I still have heart to take measures for the recovery of San Leo.’ Then my lord Duke replied: ‘Trouble yourself no more about the matter, for the mere loss of it was a measure that rendered its recovery possible.’

“There are certain other sayings when a man known to be clever says something that seems to proceed from foolishness. For instance, messer Camillo Paleotto[232] said of someone the other day: ‘He was such a fool that he died as soon as he began to grow rich.’

“Of like kind with this is a spicy and keen dissimulation, where a man (discreet, as I have said) pretends not to understand something that he does understand. Like what was said by the Marquess Federico of Mantua, who,—being pestered by a tiresome fellow who complained that some of his neighbours were snaring doves out of his dovecote, and all the while held one of them in his hand, hanging dead just as he had found it with its foot caught in the snare,—replied that the matter should be looked to. The fellow repeated the story of his loss not once only but many times, always displaying the dove that had been hanged, and saying: ‘And what, my Lord, do you think ought to be done in this case?’ At last the Marquess said: ‘I think the dove ought on no account to be buried in church, for having hanged itself, it must be believed to have committed suicide.’[277]

“Somewhat of the same fashion was the retort made by Scipio Nasica[278] to Ennius. Once when Scipio went to Ennius’s house to speak with him and called him down from the street, one of his maids replied that he was not at home; and Scipio distinctly heard Ennius himself tell the maid to say he was not at home, and so went away. Not long afterwards Ennius came to Scipio’s house and likewise called to him from below; whereupon Scipio himself replied in a loud voice that he was not at home. Then Ennius replied: ‘How? Do I not know thy voice?’ Scipio said: ‘Thou art too rude. The other day I believed thy maid when she said thou wert not at home, and now thou wilt not believe the like from me in person.’

76.—“It is also a fine thing when a man is struck in the very same place where he first struck his fellow. As in the case of messer Alonso Carillo,[279] who, being at the Spanish court and having committed some youthful peccadilloes of no great importance, was put in prison by the king’s order and left there overnight. The next day he was taken out, and so going to the palace in the morning, he reached the hall where there were many cavaliers and ladies. And as they were laughing at his imprisonment, my lady Boadilla[280] said: ‘Signor Alonso, your mishap weighed on me heavily, for all your acquaintance thought the king would have you hanged.’ Then Alonso said quickly: ‘My Lady, I was much afraid of it myself; but then I had hope that you would ask me to be your husband.’ You see how sharp and clever this was, because in Spain (as in many other countries too) the custom is that when a man is led to the gallows, his life is given him if a public courtesan begs him for her husband.

RAPHAEL
1483-1520
]

Enlarged from a part of Weinwurm’s photograph (no. 1384) of the
portrait, in the National Gallery at Buda-Pest, by Sebastiano
Luciani “del Piombo” (1485-1547). In the Scarpia collection at La
Motta di Livenza, this picture passed for years as a portrait by
Raphael of the Ferrarese courtier-poet Antonio Tebaldeo. On purely
intrinsic evidence, both Morelli and Berenson identify it as a
portrait of Raphael at the age of 26 or 27 years.

“In this manner also the painter Raphael replied to two cardinals with whom he was on familiar terms, and who (to make him talk) were finding fault in his presence with a picture that he had painted,—in which St. Peter and St. Paul were represented,—saying that these two figures were too red in the face. Then Raphael at once said: ‘My Lords, be not concerned; because I painted them so with full intention, since we have reason to believe that St. Peter and St. Paul are as red in Heaven as you see them here, for shame that their Church should be governed by such men as you.’[281]

77.—“Very keen also are those witticisms that have a certain latent spice of fun in them. As where a husband was making great lament and weeping for his wife, who had hanged herself on a fig-tree, another man approached him and plucking him by the robe, said: ‘Brother, might I as a great favour have a small branch of that fig-tree to graft upon some tree in my garden?’

“Some other witticisms need an air of patience and are slowly uttered with a certain gravity. As where a rustic, who was carrying a box on his shoulders, jostled it against Cato, and then said: ‘Have a care.’ Cato replied: ‘Hast thou aught else but that chest upon thy shoulders?’[282]

“Moreover we laugh when a man has made a blunder, and to mend it says something of set purpose that seems silly and yet tends to the object he has in view, and thus keeps himself in countenance. For instance, in the Florentine Council not long ago there were (as often happens in these republics) two enemies, and one of them, who was of the Altoviti family, fell asleep. And although his adversary, who was of the Alamanni family, was not speaking and had not spoken, yet to raise a laugh the man who sat next Altoviti woke him with a touch of the elbow, and said: ‘Do you not hear what So and So says? Make answer, as the Signors are asking for your opinion.’ Thereupon Altoviti rose to his feet all drowsy as he was, and said without stopping to think: ‘My Lords, I say just the opposite of what Alamanni said.’ Alamanni replied: ‘But I said nothing.’ ‘Then,’ said Altoviti at once, ‘the opposite of whatever you may say.’

“Of this kind also was what your Urbino physician, master Serafino, said to a rustic, who had received a hard blow in the eye so that it was forced quite out, yet decided to seek aid from master Serafino. On seeing him, although aware that it was impossible to cure him, still in order to force money from his hands (just as the blow had forced the eye from his head), the doctor readily promised to cure him, and accordingly demanded money from him every day, affirming that he would begin to recover his sight within five or six days. The poor rustic gave what little he had; then, seeing that the affair was progressing slowly, he began to complain of the physician, and to say that he felt no benefit at all and saw no more with that eye than as if he had it not in his head. At last master Serafino, seeing that he would be able to extort little more from the man, said: ‘Brother, you must have patience. You have lost your eye and there is no longer any help for it; and may God grant that you do not lose your other eye as well.’ On hearing this, the rustic began to weep and complain loudly, and said: ‘Master, you have ruined me and stolen my money. I will complain to my lord Duke;’ and he made the greatest outcry in the world. Then, to clear himself, master Serafino said angrily: ‘Ah, wretched traitor! So you would have two eyes, as city-folk and rich men have? To perdition with you!’ and accompanied these words with such fury that the poor rustic was frightened into silence and quietly went his way in peace, believing himself to be in the wrong.

78.—“It is also fine to explain or interpret a thing jocosely. As when at the court of Spain there appeared one morning in the palace a cavalier who was very ugly, and his wife who was very beautiful, both dressed in white damask (_damasco_),—the queen[283] said to Alonso Carillo: ‘What think you of these two, Alonso?’ ‘My Lady,’ replied Alonso, ‘I think she is the _dama_ (lady), and he is the _asco_,’ which means monster.

FRANCESCO ALIDOSI
CARDINAL OF PAVIA
Died 1511
]

Reduced from Giraudon’s photograph (no. 1528) of an anonymous bas-relief
in the Louvre. The features strikingly resemble those of Francesco
Francia’s medal of Alidosi, but are very unlike those shown in a
picture by Raphael (in the Prado Gallery at Madrid), which M. Müntz
regards as a portrait of the same personage. See _L’Archivio Storico
dell’Arte_ for 1891, pp. 328-32.

“Another time Rafaello de’ Pazzi[284] saw a letter which the Prior of Messina[285] had written to a lady of his acquaintance, the superscription of which read, ‘This missive is to be delivered to the author of my woes.’ ‘Methinks,’ said Rafaello, ‘this letter is intended for Paolo Tolosa.’[286] Imagine how the bystanders laughed, when everyone knew that Paolo Tolosa had lent the Prior ten thousand ducats, and that he, being a great spendthrift, found no means to repay them.

“Akin to this is the giving of friendly admonition in the form of advice, yet covertly. As Cosimo de’ Medici did to one of his friends, who was very rich but of moderate education and who had secured through Cosimo a mission away from Florence. When on setting out the man asked Cosimo what course he thought ought to be taken in order to do well in the mission, Cosimo replied: ‘Wear rose-colour,[287] and say little.’ Of the same kind was what Count Ludovico said to a man who wished to travel incognito through a certain dangerous place and knew not how to disguise himself; and being asked about it, the count replied: ‘Dress like a doctor or some other man of sense.’ Again, Gianotto de’ Pazzi[288] said to someone who wished to make a jerkin of as varied colours as he could find: ‘Imitate the Cardinal of Pavia in word and deed.’

79.—“We laugh also at some things that have no connection. As when someone said the other day to messer Antonio Rizzo[289] about a certain man from Forli: ‘You may know he is a fool, for his name is Bartolommeo.’ And another: ‘You are looking for a Master Stall, and have no horses!’ And: ‘All the fellow lacks is money and brains.’

“And we laugh at certain other things that seem to have sequence. As recently, when a friend of ours was suspected of having had the renunciation[290] of a benefice forged, upon another priest’s falling sick, Antonio Torello[291] said to our friend: ‘Why do you delay to send for that notary of yours and see about filching this other benefice?’ Likewise at some things that have no sequence. As the other day, when the pope sent for messer Gianluca da Pontremolo and messer Domenico dalla Porta (who are both hunchbacks as you know),[292] and made them auditors, saying that he wished to set the Wheel right,—messer Latino Giovenale[293] said: ‘His Holiness is in errour if he thinks to make the Wheel right with two wrongs (_due torti_).’

80.—“We often laugh also when a man admits everything that is said to him and more too, but pretends to take it in a different sense. As when Captain Peralta was brought out to fight a duel with Aldana, and Captain Molart[294] (who was Aldana’s second) asked Peralta on his oath if he wore any amulets or charms to keep him from being wounded; Peralta swore that he wore no amulets or charms or relics or objects of devotion in which he had faith. Whereupon, to taunt him with being a heretic, Molart said: ‘Do not trouble yourself about it, for without your oath I believe you have no faith in Christ himself.’[295]

“Moreover it is a fine thing to use metaphors seasonably in such cases. As when our friend master Marcantonio said to Bottone da Cesena,[296] who was goading him with words: ‘Bottone, Bottone, you will one day be the button (_bottone_), and your button-hole will be the halter.’ Another time, master Marcantonio having composed a very long comedy in several acts, this same Bottone said to master Marcantonio: ‘To play your comedy, all the timber there is in Slavonia will be needed for the setting.’ Master Marcantonio replied: ‘While for the setting of your tragedy, three sticks will be quite enough.’[297]

81.—“We often use a word in which there is a hidden meaning remote from the one we seem to intend. As was done by my lord Prefect here, on hearing mention of a certain captain who in his time had for the most part been defeated but just then had chanced to win. And the speaker telling that when the captain made his entry into the place in question, he had on a very beautiful crimson velvet doublet, which he always wore after his victories, my lord Prefect said: ‘It must be new.’

“Nor is there less laughter when we reply to something that our interlocutor has not said, or pretend to believe he has done something that he has not but ought to have done. As when Andrea Coscia,[298] having gone to visit a gentleman who rudely kept his seat and left his guest to stand, said: ‘Since your Lordship commands me, I will sit down to obey you;’ and so sat down.[299]

POPE LEO X
GIOVANNI DE’ MEDICI
“MY LORD CARDINAL”
1475-1521
]

Reduced from the central part of Braun’s photograph (no. 42.040) of the
triple portrait, in the Pitti Gallery at Florence, painted between
1517 and 1519 by Raphael (1483-1520) with the assistance of his
pupil Giulio Pippi, better known as Giulio Romano, (1492-1546).

82.—“We laugh also when a man accuses himself of some fault humourously. As when I told my lord Duke’s chaplain the other day that my lord Cardinal[300] had a chaplain who said mass faster than he, he answered me: ‘It is not possible;’ and coming close to my ear, he said: ‘You must know, I do not recite a third of the silent prayers.’

“Again, a priest at Milan having died, Biagino Crivello[301] begged his benefice of the Duke,[302] who however was minded to give it to someone else. At last Biagino saw that further argument was of no avail, and said: ‘What! After I have had the priest killed, why will you not give me his benefice?’

“It is often amusing also to express desire for those things that cannot be. As the other day, when one of our friends saw all these gentlemen playing at fence while he was lying on his bed, and said: ‘Ah, how glad I should be if this too were a fitting exercise for a strong man and a good soldier!’

“Moreover it is an amusing and spicy style of talk, and especially for grave and dignified persons, to reply the opposite of what the person spoken to desires, but slowly and with a little air of doubtful and hesitating deliberation. As was once the case with King Alfonso I of Aragon,[269] who gave a servant weapons, horses and clothes, because the fellow said he had the night before dreamed that his Highness had given him all these things; and again not long afterwards the same servant said he had that night dreamed that the king gave him a goodly sum of gold florins, whereupon the king replied: ‘Put no trust in dreams henceforth, because they are not true.’ Of like sort also was the pope’s reply to the Bishop of Cervia,[303] who said to him in order to sound his purpose: ‘Holy Father, it is said all over Rome, and the palace too, that your Holiness is making me governor.’ Then the pope replied: ‘Let them talk,—they are only knaves. Have no fear there is any truth in it.’

83.—“Perhaps, my Lords, I might collect still many other occasions that give opportunity for humourous sallies: such as things said with shyness, with admiration, with threats, out of season, with excessive anger; besides these, certain other conditions that provoke laughter when they occur: sometimes a kind of wondering taciturnity, sometimes mere laughter itself when untimely. But methinks I have now said enough, for I believe that pleasantry which takes the form of words does not exceed the limits we have discussed.

“Then, as to that which is shown in action, although it has numberless forms, it still is comprised under a few heads. But in both kinds the main thing is to cheat expectation and reply otherwise than the hearer looks for; and if the pleasantry is to find favour, it must needs be seasoned with deceit or dissimulation or ridicule or censure or simile, or whatever other style a man chooses to employ. And while pleasantries provoke laughter, yet with this laughter they produce divers other effects: for some contain a certain elegance and modest pleasantness, others a hidden or an open sting, others have a taint of grossness, others move to laughter as soon as they are heard, others the more they are thought of, others make us blush as well as laugh, others rouse a little anger. But in all methods we must consider our hearers’ state of mind, for to the afflicted jocosity often brings greater affliction, and there are certain maladies that are aggravated the more medicine is employed.

“Hence if the Courtier pays heed to time, persons and his own rank, in his banter and amusing talk, and uses them not too often (for in truth it begets tedium to be harping on this all day, in all kinds of converse, in season and out), he may be called a man of humour; taking care also not to be so sharp and biting as to be thought spiteful, assailing causelessly or with evident rancour: either those who are too powerful, which is imprudent; or those who are too weak, which is cruel; or those who are too wicked, which is useless; or saying things to offend those he would not offend, which is ignorance. Yet there are some who feel bound to speak and assail recklessly whenever they can, let the consequence be what it may. And among these last, some there are who do not scruple to tarnish the honour of a noble lady, for the sake of saying something humourous; which is a very evil thing and worthy the heaviest punishment, for in this regard ladies are to be numbered among the weak, and so ought not to be assailed, since they have no weapons to defend them.

“Besides these things, he who would be agreeable and amusing must have a certain natural aptitude for all kinds of fun, and must adapt his behaviour, gestures and face accordingly; and the graver and more serious and impassive his face is, the more spicy and keen will he make his sallies seem.

84.—“But you, messer Federico, who thought to take your ease under this leafless tree and in my arid talk, I am sure you have repented of it and think you have found your way to the Montefiore Inn.[304] Therefore it will be well for you, like a practised postman, to rise somewhat earlier than usual and take up your journey, in order to escape from a bad inn.”

“Nay,” replied messer Federico, “I have come to so good an inn that I mean to tarry in it longer than I first intended. So I shall go on taking my ease until you have finished the whole discourse appointed, of which you have left out one part that you mentioned in the beginning—that is, practical jokes; and it is not right for you to cheat the company of this. But as you have taught us many fine things about pleasantries, and have made us bold to use them by the example of so many singular geniuses, great men, princes, kings, and popes,—so too in practical jokes I think you will give us such daring that we shall venture to try some even upon you.”

Then messer Bernardo said, laughing:

“You will not be the first; but perhaps you may not succeed, for I have already endured so many of them that I am on my guard against everything, like dogs who are afraid of cold water after once being scalded with hot. However, since you will have me speak of this also, I think I can despatch it in a few words.

85.—“It seems to me that practical joking is naught else but friendly deceit in things that do not offend or that offend only a little. And just as in pleasantry it arouses laughter to say something contrary to expectation, so in practical joking it arouses laughter to do something contrary to expectation. And the cleverer and more discreet these jokes are, the more they please and are applauded; for he often gives offence who tries to play a practical joke recklessly, and afterwards quarrels and serious enmities arise in consequence.

“But the occasions that give opportunity for practical jokes are nearly the same as in the case of pleasantries. So not to repeat them, I will merely say that practical jokes are of two kinds, each of which kinds might be further divided into classes. One kind is where anyone is cleverly tricked in a fine and amusing manner; the other is where a net is cast, as it were, and a little bait is offered, so that the victim himself hastens to be tricked.

“Of the first kind was the joke that two great ladies, whom I do not wish to name, lately had played upon them by means of a Spaniard called Castillo.”[305]

Then my lady Duchess said:

“And why do you not wish to name them?”

Messer Bernardo replied:

“I would not have them take offence.”

My lady Duchess answered, laughing:

“It is not amiss to play jokes now and then even upon great lords. Indeed I have heard of many being played upon Duke Federico, upon King Alfonso of Aragon, upon Queen Isabella of Spain, and upon many other great princes; and they not only did not take offence, but rewarded the perpetrators liberally.”

Messer Bernardo replied:

“Not even for the hope of reward will I name those ladies.”

“As you please,” answered my lady Duchess.

Then messer Bernardo went on to say:

“It is not long since there arrived at the court (of I know whom) a Bergamasque rustic on business for a courtier gentleman; and this rustic was so well attired and elegantly appointed that, although he had been only used to tend cattle and knew no other trade, anyone who did not hear him speak would have taken him for a gallant cavalier. Now, being told that a Spanish follower of Cardinal Borgia[306] had arrived, and that he was called Castillo and was exceedingly clever, a musician, a dancer, a _ballatore_,[307] and the most accomplished Courtier in all Spain,—these two ladies were filled with extreme desire to speak with him, and straightway sent for him. And after receiving him with ceremony, they made him sit down and began to speak to him with the greatest distinction before all the company; and there were few of those present who did not know that the fellow was a Bergamasque cow-herd. So when these ladies were seen entertaining him with so much respect and honouring him so signally, the laughter was very hearty, the more so as the good man spoke his native Bergamasque dialect all the while.[308] But the gentlemen who played the trick had told these ladies in the beginning that he was among other things a great joker, and spoke all languages admirably and especially rustic Lombard. Thus they continually imagined that he was pretending, and they often turned to each other with an air of surprise, and said: ‘Listen to this prodigy, how well he counterfeits the language!’ In short, the conversation lasted so long that everyone’s sides ached from laughing; and he himself could not help giving so many tokens of his gentility that even these ladies were at last convinced, albeit with great difficulty, that he was what he was.

86.—“We meet practical jokes of this kind every day; but among the rest those are amusing which at first excite alarm and turn out well in the end; for even the victim laughs at himself when he sees that his fears were groundless.

“For instance, I was staying at Paglia[309] one night, and in the same inn where I was there happened to be three companions besides myself (two from Pistoia and the other from Prato), who sat down to play after supper, as men often do. They had not been playing long before one of the two Pistoians lost all he had and was left without a farthing, so that he began to lament and to curse and swear roundly; and he retired to sleep blaspheming thus. After gaming awhile, the other two resolved to play a trick upon the one who had gone to bed. So, making sure that he was really asleep, they put out all the lights and covered the fire; then they began to talk loud and to make as much noise as they could, pretending to quarrel over their play, and one of them said: ‘You’ve drawn the under card;’ and the other denied it, saying: ‘And you have wagered on four of a suit; let us deal again;’[310] and the like, with such an uproar that the sleeper awoke. And perceiving that his friends were playing and talking as if they saw the cards, he rubbed his eyes a little, and seeing no light in the room, he said: ‘What the devil do you mean by shouting all night?’ Then he lay back again as if to go to sleep.

“His two friends made no reply, but went on as before; whereat the man began to wonder (now that he was more awake) and seeing that there was really no fire or glimmer of any kind, and that still his friends were playing and quarrelling, he said: ‘And how can you see the cards without light?’ One of the two replied: ‘You must have lost your sight along with your money; don’t you see with these two candles we have here?’ The man who was abed lifted himself upon his arms, and said rather angrily: ‘Either I am drunk or blind, or you are lying.’ The two got up and groped their way to the bed, laughing and pretending to think that he was making sport of them; and still he answered: ‘I say I do not see you.’ Finally the two began to feign great surprise, and one said to the other: ‘Alas, methinks he speaks the truth. Hand me that candle, and let us see if perchance there is something wrong with his sight.’ Then the poor fellow took it for certain that he had become blind, and weeping bitterly he said: ‘Oh my brothers, I am blind;’ and he at once began to call on Our Lady of Loreto, and to implore her to pardon the blasphemies and maledictions that he had heaped upon her for the loss of his money. His two companions kept comforting him, and said: ‘It can’t be that you do not see us; ’tis some fancy you’ve got into your head.’ ‘Alas,’ replied the other, ‘this is no fancy, for I see no more than as if I had never had any eyes in my head.’ ‘Yet your sight is clear,’ replied the two, and one said to the other: ‘See how well he opens his eyes! And how bright they are! Who could believe that he doesn’t see?’ The unhappy man wept more loudly all the while, and begged mercy of God.

“At last they said to him: ‘Make a vow to go in penance to Our Lady of Loreto,[311] barefoot and naked, for this is the best remedy that can be found; and meanwhile we will go to Acquapendente[312] and those other places hard by to see some doctor, nor will we fail to do everything we can for you.’ Then the poor fellow quickly knelt by his bed, and with endless tears and bitter penitence for his blasphemy he made a solemn vow to go naked to Our Lady of Loreto, and to offer her a pair of silver eyes, and to eat no flesh on Wednesday or eggs on Friday, and to fast on bread and water every Saturday in honour of Our Lady, if she would grant him the mercy of restoring his sight. His two companions went into another room, struck a light, and laughing their very loudest, came back to the unhappy man, who was relieved of his great anguish, as you may imagine, but was so stunned by the terror that he had passed through, that he could neither laugh nor even speak; and his two companions did nothing but tease him, saying that he must fulfil all his vows, because he had obtained the mercy which he sought.

87.—“Of the other kind of practical joke, where a man deceives himself, I shall give no other example than the one that was played on me not very long ago.

“During the last carnival, my friend Monsignor of San Pietro ad Vincula[313] (who knows how fond I am of playing tricks on the friars when I am masked, and who had carefully arranged beforehand what he meant to do) came one day with Monsignor of Aragon[314] and a few other cardinals, to certain windows in the _Banchi_,[315] ostensibly for the purpose of seeing the maskers pass, as the custom is at Rome. I came along in my mask, and seeing a friar (somewhat apart) who had a little air of hesitation, I thought I had found my chance and rushed upon him like a hungry falcon on its prey. And first having asked him who he was and received his answer, I pretended to know him, and with many words began to make him think that the chief constable was out in search of him (because of certain evil reports that had been received against him), and to urge him to go with me to the Chancery,[316] where I would put him in safety. Frightened and trembling from head to foot, the friar seemed not to know what to do and said he feared being taken if he went far from San Celso.[317] I said so much to encourage him, however, that he mounted my crupper; and then I thought I had fully succeeded in my scheme. So I at once began to make for the _Banchi_, my horse frisking and kicking the while. Now imagine what a fine sight a friar made on a masker’s crupper, with cloak flying and head tossed to and fro, and looking all the time as if he were about to fall.

“At this fine spectacle those gentlemen began to throw eggs on us from the windows, as did all the _Banchi_ people and everyone who was there,—so that hail never fell from heaven with greater violence than from those windows fell the eggs, most of which came on me. Being masked as I was, I did not care and thought that all the laughter was for the friar and not for me; and so I went up and down the _Banchi_ several times with this fury always at my back, although the friar with tears in his eyes begged me to let him dismount and not to shame his cloth in this way. Then the knave had eggs given him on the sly by some lackeys stationed there for the purpose, and pretending to hold me fast to keep from falling, he broke them over my breast, often over my head, and sometimes on my very brow, until I was completely bedaubed. Finally, when everyone was weary both of laughing and of throwing eggs, he jumped off my crupper, and pushing back his cowl showed me his long hair, and said: ‘Messer Bernardo, I am one of the grooms at San Pietro ad Vincula, and it is I who take care of your little mule.’

“I know not which was then greatest, my grief, my anger, or my shame. However, as the least of evils, I set out fast for home, and dared not make an appearance the next morning; but the laughter raised by this trick lasted not only the next day, but nearly until now.”

88.—And so, after they had again laughed awhile at the story, messer Bernardo continued:

“There is another very amusing kind of practical joke, which gives opportunity for pleasantry as well, when we pretend to think that a man wishes to do something which in fact he does not wish to do. For instance, one evening after supper, when I was on the bridge at Lyons and jesting with Cesare Beccadello[318] as we walked along, we began to seize each other by the arm as if we were bent on wrestling, for by chance no one else appeared on the bridge at the time. While we were standing thus, two Frenchmen came up, and on seeing our dispute they asked what the matter was, and stopped to try to separate us, thinking that we were quarrelling in earnest. Then I said quickly: ‘Help me, Sirs, for this poor gentleman loses his reason at certain changes of the moon, and you see he is now trying to throw himself off the bridge into the water.’ Thereupon these two men ran, and with my aid seized Cesare and held him very tight; and he, telling me all the while that I was mad, tried harder to free himself from their hands, and they held him all the tighter. Thus the passers-by gathered to look at the disturbance, and everyone ran up. And the more poor Cesare struck out with his hands and feet (for he was now beginning to grow angry), the more people arrived; and from the great effort that he made, they fully believed he was trying to jump into the river, and on that account held him the tighter. So that a great crowd of men carried him bodily to the inn, all dishevelled, capless, pale with anger and shame; for nothing he said availed him, partly because the Frenchmen did not understand him, and also partly because, as I walked along leading them to the inn, I kept lamenting the poor man’s misfortune in being thus stricken mad.

89.—“Now, as we have said, it would be possible to talk at length about practical jokes; but suffice it to repeat that the occasions which give opportunity for them are the same as in the case of pleasantries. Moreover we have an infinity of examples because we see them every day. Among others there are many amusing ones in the _Novelle_ of Boccaccio, like those which Bruno and Buffalmacco played upon their friend Calandrino and upon master Simone,[319] and many others played by women, that are truly clever and fine.

“I remember having known in my time many other amusing men of this sort, and among others a certain Sicilian student at Padua, called Ponzio;[320] who once saw a peasant with a pair of fat capons. And pretending that he wished to buy them, he struck a bargain, and told the fellow to come home with him and get some breakfast besides the price agreed on. So he led the peasant to a place where there was a bell-tower standing apart from its church[321] so that one could walk around it; and just opposite one of the four sides of the tower was the end of a little lane. Here Ponzio, who had already settled what he meant to do, said to the peasant: ‘I have wagered these capons with one of my friends, who says that this tower measures quite forty feet around, while I say it does not. And just before I found you, I had bought this twine to measure it. Now, before we go home I wish to find out which of the two has won.’ And so saying, he drew the twine from his sleeve, gave one end of it to the peasant, and said: ‘Hand them here.’ Thereupon he took the capons, and holding the other end of the twine as if he were going to measure, he started to walk around the tower, first making the peasant stay and hold the twine against that side of it which was farthest from the one that looked up the little lane. When he reached this other side, he stuck a nail into the wall, tied the twine to it, and leaving the man there he quietly went off with the capons up the little lane. The peasant stood still a long time waiting for Ponzio to finish the measurement; at last,—after he had several times said: ‘What are you doing there so long?’—he went to look, and found that it was not Ponzio who was holding the twine, but a nail stuck in the wall, and that this was all the pay left him for the capons. Ponzio played numberless tricks of this sort.

“There have also been many other men who were amusing in like manner, such as Gonnella, Meliolo in his day,[322] and at the present time our friends Fra Mariano[60] and Fra Serafino[61] here, and many whom you all know. And doubtless this method is well enough for men who have no other business, but I think the Courtier’s practical jokes ought to be somewhat farther removed from scurrility. Care must be taken also not to let practical joking degenerate into knavery, as we see in the case of many rogues, who go through the world with sundry wiles to get money, now pretending one thing and now another. Moreover the Courtier’s tricks must not be too rude; and above all let him pay respect and reverence to women in this as in all other things, and especially where their honour may be touched.”

90.—Then my lord Gaspar said:

“Indeed, messer Bernardo, you are too partial towards women. And why would you have men pay more respect to women than women to men? Should not our honour be as dear to us, forsooth, as theirs to them? Do you think that women ought to taunt men with words and nonsense without the least restraint in anything, and that men should quietly endure it and thank them into the bargain?”

Then messer Bernardo replied:

“I do not say that in their pleasantries and practical jokes women ought not to use towards men the same respect which we have before described; but I do say they may taunt men with unchastity more freely than men may taunt them. And this is because we have made unto ourselves a law, whereby free living is in us neither vice nor fault nor disgrace, while in women it is such utter infamy and shame that she of whom evil is once spoken is disgraced forever, whether the imputation[323] cast upon her be false or true. Wherefore, since speaking of women’s honour brings such risk of doing them grievous harm, I say we ought to attack them in some other way, and to abstain from this; because to strike too hard with our pleasantries and practical jokes, is to exceed the bounds that we have before said are befitting a gentleman.”

91.—As messer Bernardo paused a little here, my lord Ottaviano Fregoso said, laughing:

“My lord Gaspar might answer you that this law you refer to, which we have made unto ourselves, is perhaps not so unreasonable as it seems to you. For since women were very imperfect creatures and of little or no worth in comparison with men, and since of themselves they were not capable of performing any worthy act,—it was necessary by fear of shame and infamy to lay upon them a restraint that might impart some quality of goodness to them almost against their will. And chastity seemed more needful for them than any other quality, in order to have certainty as to our offspring; hence it was necessary to use every possible skill, art and way to make women chaste, and almost to permit them to be of little worth in all things else and to do constantly the reverse of what they ought. Therefore, since they are allowed to commit all other faults without blame, if we taunt them with those defects which (as we have said) are all permitted to them and therefore not incongruous in them, and of which they take no heed,—we shall never arouse laughter; for you said awhile ago that laughter is aroused by certain things that are incongruous.”

92.—Then my lady Duchess said:

“You speak thus of women, my lord Ottaviano, and then you complain that they love you not.”

“I do not complain of this,” replied my lord Ottaviano, “but rather thank them in that they do not, by loving me, force me to love them. Nor am I speaking my own mind, but saying that my lord Gaspar might use these arguments.”

Messer Bernardo said:

“Verily it would be a great gain to women if they could conciliate two such great enemies of theirs as you and my lord Gaspar are.”

“I am not their enemy,” replied my lord Gaspar, “but you are indeed an enemy of men; for if you would not have women taunted as to their honour, you ought also to impose on them a law that they shall not taunt men for that which is as shameful to us as unchastity is to women. And why was not Alonso Carillo’s retort to my lady Boadilla (about hoping to escape with his life by being asked to become her husband) as seemly in him, as it was for her to say that all who knew him thought the king was about to have him hanged? And why was it not as allowable for Riciardo Minutoli to deceive Filippello’s wife and get her to go to that resort, as for Beatrice to make her husband Egano[324] get out of bed and be cudgelled by Anichino, after she had long been with the latter? And for that other woman to tie a string to her toe and make her husband believe that she was someone else?—since you say that these women’s pranks in Giovanni Boccaccio are so clever and fine.”

93.—Then messer Bernardo said, laughing:

“My Lords, as my task was simply to discuss pleasantries, I do not mean to go outside my subject. And I think I have already told why it does not seem to me befitting to attack women in their honour either by word or deed, and have imposed on them as well a rule that they shall not touch men in a tender spot.

“As for the pranks and sallies cited by you, my lord Gaspar, I grant that although what Alonso said to my lady Boadilla may touch a little on her chastity, it still does not displease me, because it is very remote, and is so veiled that it may be taken innocently, and the speaker might disguise his meaning and declare he had not meant it. He said another that was to my thinking very unseemly. And it was this: as the queen[325] was passing my lady Boadilla’s house,[280] Alonso saw the door all blackened with pictures of those indecencies that are painted about inns in such variety; and turning to the Countess of Castagneta,[326] he said: ‘There, my Lady, are the heads of the game that my lady Boadilla slays in hunting every day.’ You see that while the metaphor is clever and aptly borrowed from hunters (who take pride in having many heads of beasts fastened on their doors), yet it is scurrilous and disgraceful. Besides which, it was not an answer to anything; for it is far less rude to say a thing by way of retort, because then it seems to have been provoked and needs must be impromptu.

“Returning, however, to the subject of tricks played by women, I do not say they do well to deceive their husbands, but I say that some of those deceptions (which Giovanni Boccaccio recounts of women) are fine and very clever, and especially those which you yourself told. But in my opinion the trick played by Riciardo Minutoli goes too far, and is much more heartless than the one played by Beatrice; because Riciardo Minutoli did much greater wrong to Filippello’s wife than Beatrice did to her husband Egano, for by his deception Riciardo forced the woman’s will and made her do with herself something that she did not wish to do, while Beatrice deceived her husband in order that she might do with herself something that pleased her.”

94.—Then my lord Gaspar said:

“Beatrice can be excused on no other plea than that of love, which ought to be allowed in the case of men as well as in that of women.”

Then messer Bernardo replied:

“No doubt the passion of love affords great excuse for every fault. But for my part I think that a gentleman of worth, who is in love, ought to be sincere and truthful in this as in all things else; and if it be true that to betray even an enemy is such a vile act and abominable crime, consider how much more heinous the offence ought to be deemed when it is committed against one whom we love.

“Moreover, I think that every gentle lover endures so many toils, so many vigils, braves so many perils, sheds so many tears, employs so many means and ways to please the lady of his love,—not chiefly in order to possess her person, but to capture the fortress of her mind, and to shatter those hardest diamonds, to melt that coldest ice, that often are in the tender breast of woman. This, I think, is the true and sound pleasure and the purposed goal of every noble heart. For myself, were I in love, I certainly should prefer to be assured that she whom I served returned my love from her heart and had given me her mind,—without ever having any other satisfaction from her,—than to enjoy her to the full against her will; for in such case I should deem myself the master of a lifeless body. Hence they who pursue their desires by means of such trickery, which might perhaps be called treachery rather than trickery, do injury to others; nor have they yet that bliss which is to be desired in love, if they possess the body without the will.

“The same I say of certain others who use enchantments in their love, charms and sometimes force, sometimes sleeping potions and such like things. Be assured, too, that gifts much lessen the pleasures of love; for a man may suspect that he is not loved and that his lady makes a show of loving him in order to profit by it. Hence you see that great ladies’ love is prized because it could hardly spring from other source than real and true affection, nor is it credible that a great lady should ever pretend to love one of her inferiors unless she loves him truly.”

95.—Then my lord Gaspar replied:

“I do not deny that the purpose, toils and dangers of lovers ought to have their aim directed chiefly towards the conquest of the mind rather than of the body of their beloved. But I say that these deceits, which you call treachery in men and trickery in women, are excellent means of attaining this aim, for whoever possesses a woman’s person is master of her mind as well. And if you remember rightly, Filippello’s wife, after much lament over the deceit practised on her by Riciardo, discovered how much more delicious than her husband’s were the kisses of her lover, and her coldness to Riciardo changed to sweet affection, so that from that day forth she loved him most tenderly. Thus it came about that what his frequent fond visits, his gifts and countless other tokens shown unceasingly, could not affect, a taste of his embraces soon accomplished. You now see that this same trickery, or treachery as you would call it, was a good way to capture the fortress of her mind.”

Then messer Bernardo said:

“You advance a very false premise, for if women always surrendered their mind to the man who possessed their person, no wife would be found who did not love her husband more than every other person in the world; the contrary of which we find to be the case. But Giovanni Boccaccio was very unjustly hostile to women, as you are also.”[327]

96.—My lord Gaspar replied:

“I am not at all hostile to them; but there are very few men of worth who as a rule make any account of women whatever, although for their own purposes they sometimes pretend the contrary.”

Then messer Bernardo replied:

“You wrong not women only, but also all men who hold them in respect. However, as I said, I do not wish for the present to go outside my original subject of practical joking, and enter upon so difficult an enterprise as would be the defence of women against you, who are a most redoubtable warrior. So I will make an end of this talk of mine, which has perhaps been far longer than was necessary, and certainly less amusing than you expected. And since I see the ladies sit so quiet, enduring your insults thus patiently as they do, I shall henceforth regard a part of what my lord Ottaviano said as true, namely, that they care not what other evil is said of them, provided they be not taunted with lack of chastity.”

Then at a signal from my lady Duchess, many of the ladies rose to their feet, and all ran laughing towards my lord Gaspar, as if to shower blows upon him and treat him as the bacchants treated Orpheus,[328]—meanwhile saying:

“You shall see now whether we care if evil be said of us.”

97.—Thus, partly because of the laughter and partly because everyone rose to his feet, the drowsiness that had seized the eyes and mind of some, seemed to flee away; but my lord Gaspar began to say:

“You see that being in the wrong, they would fain use force and thus end the discussion by giving us a Braccesque leave, as the saying is.”[329]

Then my lady Emilia replied:

“Nay, that shall not help you; for when you saw messer Bernardo wearied by his long talk, you began to say all manner of evil about women, thinking to have no antagonist. But we shall put a fresh champion in the field to fight you, to the end that your offence may not go long unpunished.”

So, turning to the Magnifico Giuliano, who had thus far spoken little, she said:

“You are accounted the defender of women’s honour; wherefore the time has come for you to show that you have not acquired this title falsely. And if hitherto you have ever found profit in your office, you ought now to consider that by putting down so bitter an enemy of ours, you will render all women still more beholden to you, so much so that although nothing else be ever done but requite you, yet the obligation must always stand and can never fully be requited.”

98.—Then the Magnifico Giuliano replied:

“My Lady, methinks you do your enemy much honour, and your defender very little; for so far my lord Gaspar has certainly said nothing against women that messer Bernardo has not most consummately answered. And I believe we all know that it is fitting for the Courtier to show women the greatest reverence, and that he who is discreet and courteous must never taunt them with lack of chastity, either in jest or in earnest. Therefore, to discuss such obvious truth as this, is almost to cast doubt upon that which is undoubted. But indeed I think my lord Ottaviano went rather too far when he said that women are very imperfect creatures, incapable of any worthy action, and possessed of little or no dignity in comparison with men. And as trust is often placed in those who have great authority, even when they say what is not the exact truth and also when they speak in jest,—my lord Gaspar suffered himself to be led by my lord Ottaviano’s words to say that wise men make no account of women whatever, which is most false. On the contrary, I have known very few men of merit who did not love and honour women,—whose worth (and so whose dignity) I regard as in no wise inferior to men’s.

UNICUS ARETINUS
Bernardo Accolti

JO. CHRISTOFANO ROMANO

VINCENTIO CALMETA

NICOLO PHRYSIO

SERAPHINO

AUTOGRAPH SIGNATURES OF INTERLOCUTORS