Chapter XVIII: Part 18

Wherfore let euery wight beware how they gage their honesty for any enterprise (seeme it neuer so impossible). Maistresse Dianora deerely beloued of a gentleman, and earnestly assayled, in the ende yelded vpon a condition: which if it could be brought to passe (which she thought impossible) was content to surrender to his loue: who consulting with a Magitian, performed hir request: then what folowed, and what counsel hir husband gaue hir, after she had broken the effect of hir promise to hym, and what Curtesie was vsed on all sides, the sequele hereof dyscloseth. The Countrey of Frioli although it be colde, yet is it pleasaunt by reason of many faire mountaines, riuers, and cleere sprynges that are in the same: where there is a City called Vdina, and in the same sometime dwellyng a faire gentlewoman called Mistresse Dianora, the wyfe of Gilberto, a notable rich man, a very curteous personage, and of good behauiour. This Lady, for hir graces and vertues, was intierly beloued of a Gentleman and great Lord, called maister Ansaldo Grandese, who for his liberalyty and valyance in armes, was famous and well knowen: and albeit that hee loued hir feruently, seking al meanes possible to be beloued of hir, soliciting hir many tymes by Ambassadours, yet his labour was in vayn. And the Lady being offended for hys dayly sute and trauayle, hee for al hir refusal and disagreement to his desire, would not abstaine from louing hir, but still mayntayne his importunate sute: she deuising with her selfe how to rid him away, made a request vnto him, so straunge and impossible, (in hir iudgement) as he was not able to bring the same to passe: and vpon a day she sayd vnto an old woman, (the which cam often tymes to sue vnto hir in hys behalf) these words: "Good wife, thou hast many times assured me, that Maister Ansaldo doth loue mee aboue all other, and thou hast offered vnto me maruellous giftes and presents in hys name: al which I haue refused, vpon consideration, that I mynd not to fauour or loue him for his goods: but if thou canst iustify by warrantize or other probable argument, that hee loueth me so mutch as thou sayest, I will condescend without fayle to loue him againe and to doe the thing that it shal please him to commaund me: therfore if he wil assure me to do that thing which I shal require hym to do, tel him that I am at his commaundement." "What is that madame," (said the old woman) "that you desire?" "The thing which I demaund" (answered the Gentlewoman) "is, that he should cause to be made here without the Citie, during the moneth of Januarie next commyng, a garden full of greene herbes, floures and trees, bespred wyth leaues, euen as it were in the moneth of May: and if so be that he do it not, then let him neuer send thee or any other vnto me agayn: for if afterwards he be importunate vpon me, like as I haue hitherto kept it close from my husbande and parents, euen so complayning vnto them, I wyll assaye to bee dispatched from hys long and tedious sute." When the knight vnderstoode that request, and the offer that hys Mystresse made him (although it seemed a thinge very difficulte and all most impossible to bee done) knowinge very well that she did the same for none other purpose, but onely to put him out of hope that euer hee should enioy hir, hee determined notwithstandinge, to proue what hee was able to do. And for that purpose sent to seeke in many places of the Worlde if there were any man that could assist him and geue him Counsel therin. In the ende there was one found that offred to doe it (if he were well waged thereunto) by the art of Necromancie, with whom maister Ansaldo bargained for a great summe of Money. Then he expected the moneth of Ianuarie with great deuotion, whych beeing come, euen when the coldest wether was, and that al places were ful of snow and yce, this Necromancer vsed his art in sutch sort, as in the night after the holy dais of Christmasse, in a faire medow adioyning to the city, ther appered in the morning (as they can testify that saw the same) one of the fairest gardens that euer any man saw, full of herbes, trees, and fruites of all sortes: which when maister Ansaldo had seen, God knoweth if he were glad or not: and incontinently caused to be gathered the fairest fruites and floures that were there, and secretlye sente the same to his Friende, inuiting hir to come and see the Garden which she had procured him to make, to the intent thereby she might know the loue that he bare hir, and to remember the promise which she made him, and confirmed by othe, that he might from that time forth esteeme hir a woman so good as hir promise. When the Gentlewoman sawe the flowers and fruictes and hearing tell by report of the straunge things that were in that Garden, began to repent hir selfe of the promise which shee had made: but for all her repentaunce, she like one desirous to se straung things, wente wyth many other women to see the same: and hauing praised it, not wythout greate admiration, she returned home, the angriest woman that euer was, when she had considered in what sort she had abused hir selfe by meanes of that Garden: and hir rage was so greate, that she could by no meanes keepe the same so secrete or close, but that her husband muste perceiue the same, who woulde needes knowe of hir al the whole matter: the Gentlewoman a long time kepte it secrete: in the ende she was constrained to declare vnto him the same in order. Hir husbande hearing what she had promised was sodainly very angry: afterwardes considering the pure intente of his wife, hee wisely appeaseed hir, and sayd: "Dianora, it is not the acte of a wyse and vertuouse wife to encline hir eare to sutch messages as those be, and lesse honest to make any marte or bargain of hir honesty with any person, vnder what condicion soeuer it be. Words which the hart receiueth by the eares, haue greater force than many do esteme, and there is nothing so difficult, but by the amorous is brought to passe. First therfore thou hast done euil to giue eare vnto such ambassage, and afterwards for agreement to the bargaine: for the weight of chastity is so ponderous, as by no meanes it ought to be laid in balance, eyther by impossibilities to boast and bragge therof, or else by assurance of their conceiued thought to bring it into question, leaste in all places the same may be dysputed vpon, and blemysh with the note of lightnesse, the person tyll that time vnspotted: but bycause I know the purity of thy heart, I wyll agree vnto thee for discharge of thy promise, whych peraduenture, some other would not doe, moued therunto for the feare I haue of the Necromancer, who if he see Mayster Ansaldo to be offended bicause thou hast deluded hym, may doe vs some displeasure: wherfore I wyll that thou go to maister Ansaldo, and if thou canest by any meanes to vse thy selfe (as thyne honour saued) thou mayst discharge thy promise, I shall commende thy wit: but if there be no remedye otherwyse, for that onely time then lende forth thy Body and not thy wyll." The gentlewoman hearyng hir husband so wisely speake, could doe nought else but weepe, and sayd, that she would not agree to his requeste. Notwythstanding, it pleased the husband (for al the denial whych his wife did make) that it shoulde be so: by meanes wherof, the next morning vpon the point of day the Gentlewoman in the homliest attire she had, with two of hir seruantes before, and hir mayde behinde, wente to the lodging of maister Ansaldo, who when he hearde tell that hys Louer was come to see hym, maruelled mutch, and rising vp, called the Necromancer, and sayde vnto him: "My wyll is, that thou see how mutch thyne arte hath preuailed:" and going vnto hir, without any disordinate lust, he saluted hir wyth reuerence, and honestly receiued hir. Then they entred into a faire Chamber, and sittyng downe before a great fire, he sayde vnto hir these Wordes: "Madame, I humbly beseeche you, if the loue which I haue borne you of long time, and yet doe beare, deserue some recompence, that it please you to tell me vnfainedly the cause which haue made you to come hither thus early, and with such a company." The shamefast Gentlewoman, hir eyes ful of teares, made answere: "Sir, the loue which I beare you, nor any promised faith haue brought me hither, but rather the only commaundement of my husband, who hath greater respect to the payne and trauaile of your disordinate loue, than to his own honour or my reputation, who hath caused me to come hither, and by hys commaundement am redy for this once to satisfie your pleasure." If Mayster Ansaldo were abashed at the begynnyng, be much more did maruell when he hearde the Gentlewoman thus to speake, and moued with the liberality of hir husband, he began to chaunge his heate into compassion, and said: "Mistresse, God defend if it be true that you do say, that I should soyle the honour of hym, whych hath pity vpon my loue, and therefore you may tarrie here so long as it shall please you, with sutch assurance of your honesty as if you were my naturall sister, and frankly may depart when you be disposed, vpon sutch condicion, that you render in my behalf those thanks vnto your husband which you shal thinke conuenient, for the great liberality whych he hath imployed vpon me, deeming my selfe henceforth so much bound vnto him, as if I were his brother or Seruaunt." The Gentlewoman hearing those wordes, the best contented that euer was, sayd vnto him: "All the worlde could neuer make me beleue (your great honesty considered) that other thing could happen vnto mee by my commyng hyther, than that which presently I see: for which I recken my selfe perpetually bounde vnto you." And takynge hir leaue, honorablye returned in the aforesayde company home to hir husband, and tolde hym what had chaunced, which engendred perfect loue and amytye betweene hym and mayster Ansaldo. The Necromancer to whom maister Ansaldo determined to gyue the price, couenanted betwene them, seyng the liberality which the husbande had vsed towards mayster Ansaldo, and the like of mayster Ansaldo towards the Gentlewoman, sayd: "God defend, that sith I haue seene the husband lyberall of his honour, and you bountiful of your loue and curtesie, but that I be likewyse franke in my reward: for knowing that it is well employed of you, I purpose that you shall keepe it still." The knyghte was ashamed, and would haue forced him to take the whole, or part: but in offryng the same, he lost his laboure: and the Necromancer the third day after, hauying vndon his Garden, and desirous to departe, tooke his leaue. Thus Ansaldo extinguishing the dishonest loue kindled in hys hearte, for inioying of his Lady, vpon consideration of honest charity, and regard of Curtesie, repressed his wanton minde, and absteyned from that which God graunte that others by lik Example may refrayne.

THE EIGHTEENTH NOUELL.

_Mithridanes enuious of the liberality of Nathan, and goinge aboute
to kill hym, spake vnto him vnknowne, & being infourmed by himself
by what meanes he might do the same he found him in a little wood
accordingly as hee had tolde him, who knowinge him, was ashamed, and
became his friende._

Straunge may seeme thys following Hystory, and rare amonges those, in whom the vertue of liberality neuer florished: many we reade of, that haue kept Noble and bountifull houses, entertayninge Guestes, both Forrayne and free borne, plentifully Feastinge them with variety of cheere, but to entertayne a Guest that aspyreth the death of his hoast, and to cherishe hym after hee knew of it, or liberally to offer his life, seldome or neuer we reade, or by experience knowe: but what moued the conspirator to frowne at the state and life of Nathan? euen that froward pestilent passion Enuy, the consumer and deadly monster of all humanity: who imitatinge the like cost, and port of his deuout hoast Nathan, and seekinge after equall glory and fame, was through enuie's force for not attayninge the like, driuen to imagine how to kill a good and innocent man: for enuy commonly wayteth vpon the vertuous, euen as the shadow doeth the body. And as the Cantharides (which similitude Plutarch vseth) delight in ripe and prosperous wheate, and crawle in spreadinge roses, so enuy chiefly them which in vertue and richesse do abound: for had not Nathan bene famous for hys goodnesse, and glorious for liberality, Mithridanes would neuer haue prosecuted him by enuy, nor gon about to berieue hys lyfe. He that enuieth the vertuous and industrious person, may bee compared to Dedalus, whom the Poets fayne to murder Telon hys Apprentice for deuising of the Potter's wheele: and Mithridanes disdaynfull of Nathan's hospitality, would haue slayne him: but how ashamed Mithridanes was of his practise, this example at large discourseth. Very true it is (at least wyse if credite may bee gieuen to the words of certayne Genoua Merchauntes, and of others whych haue trauayled that countrey) how in Cataya, there was sometimes a rich Gentleman without comparison, named Nathan, who hauing a place or Pallace ioyning vpon the high way, by which the trauaylers to and from the West, and East, were constrayned to passe, and hauing a noble and liberal heart, desirous by experience to haue the same to be knowen, and wyth what nature and quality it was affected, he assembled dyuers maister Masons and Carpenters, and in short tyme erected there one of the stateliest Pallaces for greatnesse and costly furniture that euer was seene in that countrey, which afterwards he caused to be stored with all things necessary, honourably to entertayne ech Gentleman that passed that way: and with a great trayne of seruantes he welcomed and accepted sutch as iourneyed to and fro. And in this commendable custome he perseuered so longe as both in the East and West partes, report was bruted of his renoume and fame: and being come to auncient yeares, not for all that weary of his liberality, it chaunced that his fame flewe to the eares of a yong gentleman called Mithridanes, who in a country not farre of from his, had his abode and resiance. Mithridanes knowing himselfe to be so rich as Nathan, enuious of his vertue and liberality, purposed by some meanes or other to defame and obscure his neyghbour's good reporte: and hauing builded a Palace like to that which Nathan did possesse, began to vse curtesies to those which passed to and fro, in outragious and disordred sort: whereby in little time he purchased great fame. Now it chaunced vpon a day, as Mithridanes was alone in the court of his Palace, a poore woman entring in at one of the gates of the same, craued almes, and had it and so successiuely euen to the twelfth and thirtenth time, also she retorned agayne, which Mithridanes perceiuing, said vnto her: "Good wyfe you come hither very often:" and yet he denied not hir almes. The old woman hearing those words, sayd: "O how maruellous is the liberality of Nathan, whose palace hath XXXII. entries by seuerall gates, so greate as this, and daily begging almes there, neuer made semblance as though he knew me, and yet the same was not denied me: and being come hither but XIII. times, I haue bene marked and reproued:" and saying so, she went her way, and neuer after came thither agayne. Mithridanes hearyng these wordes to proceede from the old woman fell into a great rage, deeming the fame reported of Nathan to be a diminution of his own, and said: "Ah wretch, when shal I be able to attayne the liberality of Nathan's greatest things? and why then goe I about to excel him, when in litle matters I am not able to come neare him? verily I labour all in vaine, if I myselfe do not seeke meanes to rid him of his life, sith croked age is not disposed to dispatch him, I must therfore doe the same with myne own hands.{"} And in that fury makyng no man priuy to his intent, he rode forth with a smal traine, and in three dayes arriued where Nathan dwelte, and then commaunded his men in any wise not to be knowen that they came with him, and likewise that they knewe him not, but to prouide lodging for themselues, vntyll sutch tyme as they had further newes from him. Mithridanes then being arriued about evening, al alone, found Nathan walking vp and downe before his faire Palace, without other company than himself, who in simple attire and garment went forth to meete him: of whom Mithridanes, bicause he knew not Nathan, demaunded if he could tell him where Nathan dwelt. Nathan pleasantly made him answer: "My sonne, ther is no man in these quarters that can better tel thee than I, and therfore yf thou please, I wyll bring thee thither." Mithridanes said, that he should doe hym a very great pleasure: but he would not if it were possible bee seene or knowen of Nathan: "And that can I very wel do," said Nathan, now that I know your mynd. Being then lighted of from his horse, he went with Nathan, who by and by interteined him with diuersity of talk, to his faire Palace: and Nathan incontinently caused one of his seruaunts to take Mithridanes' horse, and said vnto him in hys eare that he should wyth all speede giue order to his housholde, that none should tel the younge Man that he was Nathan, which accordingly was done: but after they were in the Palace, Nathan brought Mithridanes into a very fayre chambre, that none mighte see him excepte sutch as he had appoynted to serue hym: and causinge greate honour to bee done vnto him, hee hymselfe kepte him company. As they two were together, Mithridanes asked him (to whom hee vsed conuenable reuerence as to his father) what he was? whom Nathan answered: "I am one of Nathan's pore seruaunts, that from the time of my youth haue bene broughte vp wyth him, and neuer aduaunced me to any thing but to that which you see: wherefore, although euery man greatly prayseth him, yet haue I no cause to commend hym." These wordes gaue some hope to Mithridanes, by better aduise and surety to execute his wicked intente: and Nathan asked him very curteously what he was, and for what businesse he was come thither, offeryng him helpe and counsel in that he was able to do. Mithridanes then paused a while before he would make him answere: and in the ende purposyng to put his trust in him, required with great circumstance of wordes his fayth and after that his counsell and ayde. Then he wholy discouered what he was, wherefore he was come, and the cause that moued hym. Nathan hearing those woordes, and the mischieuous determination of Mithridanes, was chaunged and troubled in mynde, notwythstandyng wythout making any semblaunce of displeasure answered him with bolde countenaunce: "Mithridanes, thy father was a Gentleman, and of stoute stomacke, from whome so farre as I see, thou wylt not degenerate, by attemptyng so great an enterpryse as thou hast done. I intende to be lyberall to ech man and praise greatly the Enuye whych thou bearest to the Vertue of Nathan, bycause if there were many sutch, the Worlde which is now myserable, would shortly become prosperous and happye: and doe make thee promyse, that the intent thou goest about, shall be kepte secrete, whereunto I can sooner gyue Counsell than any great helpe, and mine aduyse is this: you may see from the place where we now be a lyttle Groaue, about a quarter of a Myle hence, whereunto Nathan in a maner walketh euery mornyng, and tarrieth there a long time: there you may easily finde him, and do your pleasure: and if you kyll him, you may goe, (to the intent without daunger you may returne home to your owne House) not that way you came, but by that you see on the lefte hand leade out of the wod, whych although it be not so common as the other, yet is the nearest way and safest for you to passe." When Mithridanes was thus informed, and that Nathan departed from him, he caused worde secretly to be sent to his Men, which likewyse lodged there, in what place they should waight for him the next day: and when the day was com, Nathan not altering the counsel he gaue to Mithridanes, ne chaunging any part of the same, went all alone into the little woodde, to receiue his Death. When Mithridanes was vp, and had taken his bowe and sword, (for he had none other weapons) he mounted vpon his horse, and rode to the little woodde, where a farre of he espied Nathan, commyng thitherward all alone, and determining before he would set vppon him to see him and heare him speake, made toward him, and catchyng him by the band vpon his head, said vnto him: "Old chorle thou art dead." Whervnto Nathan made none other answer, but said, "I haue deserued it." When Mithridanes heard his voyce and looked him in the face, he knew by and by that it was he which had curteously receiued him, familiarly kept him company, and faithfully had gyuen him counsel. Wherupon, his fury asswaged, and his anger conuerted to shame: by meanes whereof, throwing downe his sworde which he had drawn to strike him, he lighted of from his horse, and did prostrate himselfe at Nathan his father's feete, and said vnto him weeping: "I manifestly perceiue right louing father your great lyberality, and by what pollicy you be come hyther to render to me your lyfe: whereunto I hauyng no ryght, declared my selfe desyrous to haue the same: but our Lord God, more carefull of my deuoir than my self, hath euen at the very point, when it was moste needefull, opened the eyes of myne vnderstandynge, which curssed spite and cancred enuy haue closed vp: and therefore, the more you were ready to gratify my desire, the greater punishment I knowledge my selfe to deserue for my faulte. Take then of me if it please you sutch vengance as you thynke meete for myne offence." Nathan caused Mithridanes to rise vp, kissinge and imbracinge hym tenderly, and sayd vnto hym: "My sonne, thou needest not to demaund pardon, for the enterprise done, good or euill as thou list to name it: for thou diddest not go about to rid me of my lyfe for any hatred thou diddest bear me, but only to be accompted the better: be assured then of me, and verily beleue, that there is no lyuing man, that I loue better than thy self, considering the greatnesse of thine heart not inclyned to hoorde or gather togither the drossy muck of Syluer, as the myserable do, but to spend that which is gathered. Be not ashamed for hauing a will to kill me, thereby to great renowme: for Emperours and greatest kings, neuer streatched forth their power, and racked their Realmes, and consequently aspired fam, for other purpose but to kyl: not by murdering one man as thou didst meane, but of infinit numbers, besides the burning of Countries, and rasing of Cities: wherefore if to make thy selfe more famous, thou wouldest have killed me alone, thyne enterprise was not newly to be wondred at, but a thyng in dayly practise." Mithridanes no more excusinge hys wicked intent, but praysinge the honest excuse, which Nathan had deuised, drew neare vnto hym to enter into further talke wyth hym, which was, how he greatly maruelled, that he durst approch the place, with so litle rescue, where his death was sworne, and what he meant him selfe to tell the way and meanes: wherein he required him to say his mynde, for disclosinge of the cause. Whereunto Nathan replied: "Maruell not, Mithridanes, of mine intent and purpose, for sithens I was at age disposed to myne owne free will, and determined to do that which thou hast gone about to do, neuer any came to me, but I haue contented them (so farre as I was hable) of that they did demaund: thou art come hither with desire to haue my lyfe, wherefore seeing that thou diddest craue, I forthwith dyd meane to gieue it, that thou alone mightest not be the man that should depart from hence without atchieuing thy request: and to bring to passe that thou myghtest haue the same, I gaue thee the best Counsel I could, aswel for bereuing of my lyfe, as for enioyinge of thyne owne: and therefore I say to thee agayne, and pray thee for to take it, thereby to content thy selfe, if thou haue any pleasure therein: for I do not know whych way better to imploy it. I haue all ready kept it foure score yeares, and haue consumed the same in pleasures, and delights, and do know by course of nature in other men, and generally in all things, that long it cannot reast in breathing dayes: wherefore I think good, that better it is to geue, as I haue dayly done, and departe with my Treasures, than keepe it till nature cary it away in despite of my Teeth, and maugre that I haue. It is a little gift to giue one hundred yeares, how mutch lesse is it then to giue sixe or eyght of those I haue to liue? Take it then if it please thee, I thee beseech: for neuer yet found I man that did desire the same, ne yet do know when I shall finde sutch one, if that thy selfe which didst desire it, do not take it: and if it chaunce that I do finde some one, I know full well that so mutch the longer as I shall keepe the same the lesse esteemed it shall be, and therefore before the same be vile and of little price, take it I beseech thee." Mithridanes sore ashamed, sayd: "God forbid, that by separating so deare a thing as is thy life, that I should take it, or onely desire the same, as I did erst, from which I would not diminish yeares, but willingly would of myne owne ad thereto if I could." Whereunto Nathan by and by replyed: "And if thou couldest, wouldest thou gieue them? and wouldest thou cause me do to thee that which I neuer did to any man, that is to say, to take of thy things which neuer I did of any liuing person?" "Yea verily," aunswered Mithridanes. "Then," sayde Nathan: "thou oughtest there to doe that which I wyll tel thee: which is to remayne here in my house so younge as thou art, and beare the name of Nathan, and I would goe to thine, and bee called Mithridanes." Then Mithridanes answered: "If I had also so great experience as thou hast, I woulde not refuse thine offer, but bicause I am assured, that my deedes woulde diminish the renoume of Nathan, I wyll not marre that in another, which I cannot redresse in my selfe: and therefore I wyll not take it." After thys talke, and a great deale more betwene them, they repayred to the Palace, vppon the request of Nathan, where many dayes he did great honour to Mithridanes, incoraging and counselling him, so wel as he could, dayly to perseuere in his high and great indeuour. And Mithridanes desirous to returne home with his company, Nathan (after that he had let him well to know, that he was not able to surpasse him in liberality) gaue him leaue.

THE NINETEENTH NOUELL.

_Mayster Gentil of Carisendi being come from Modena, tooke a woman
out of hir graue that was buried for dead, who after she was come
agayne, brought forth a Sonne, which mayster Gentil rendred
afterwardes with the mother to mayster Nicholas Chasennemie her
husband._

Reading this History, I consider two straung and rare chaunces: the one a lyberall and courteous act of an earnest louer towards his beloued and hir husband, in leauinge hir vntouched, and not dishonored, although in full puissance to doe his pleasure: the other a lyke liberall offre by presentinge whom he dearly loued, and a newe borne Chylde: both supposed to be dead by hir freendes, and therefore Intoumbed in Graue. Wherewithall is to bee noted the rare and singuler desire of a gentlewoman, by humble sute for conseruation of her honour, although longe time pursued by a Gentleman that reuiued hir almost from death, and thought her vtterly to be void of life. To praise the one, and to leaue the other not magnified, it were a part of discurtesy: but to extol both with shoutes, and acclamations of infinite praise no dout but very commendable. If comparisons may be made with Prynces of elder yeares, and not to note those of later, truely Mayster Gentil by that hys fact, seemeth not mutch inferior to Scipio Africanus for sparing the wyfe of Indibilis, ne yet to king Cyrus for Panthea the wyfe of Abradatus: although both of them not in equall state of loue, (as wholly estraunged from that passion) like to maister Gentil, who in deed for subduing that griefe and motion, deserueth greater prayse. For sooner is that torment auoyded at the first assault and pinch, than when it is suffred long to flame and raigne in that yelding portion of man, the heart, which once fed with the bayt of loue, is seldome or neuer loosed. To do at large to vnderstand the proofe of those most vertuous persons, thus beginneth the history. At Bologna a very notable Citty of Lombardy, there was a Knyght of very great respect for his vertue, named maister Gentil Carissendi, who in his youth fell in loue with a Gentlewoman called maistresse Katherine, the wyfe of one mayster Nicholas Chassennemie. And bicause during that loue he receiued a very ill counterchange for his affection that he bare vnto hir, he went away (like one desperate) to be the iudge and potestate of Modena, whereunto he was called. About the time that hir husband being out of Bologna, and the gentlewoman at hir Manour in the countrey, not past a mile and a halfe from the Citty, (whither she went to remayne, bicause she was with childe) it chaunced that she was sodenly surprised with a sicknesse, which was of so great force, as there was no token of lyfe in her, but rather iudged by all Phisitians to be a dead Woman. And because that hir neerest Kinne reported that they hearde hir saye, that shee could not bee longe time with Childe, but that the infante must be perfect in her wombe and ready to be deliuered, and therefore affected wyth some other disease and griefe that would bring hir to hir ende, as a Timpany or other swelling, rising of grosse humors, they thought hir a dead Woman, and past recouery: wherefore vpon a time she falling into a traunce, was verily supposed to be dead. Who after they had mourned hir death, and bewayled the sodayn expiration of hir soule, caused hir to be buried without hope of recouery (euen as she was in that extasie) in a graue of a church adioyning harde by the house wher she dwelt. Which thing incontinently was aduertised master Gentil by one of his frends, who although he was not likely, as he thought, to attayne hir fauor and in vtter dispayre therof, yet it gryeued him very mutch that no better heede was taken vnto hir, thynking by diligence and time shee woulde haue reuyued agayn, sayinge thus in the end vnto him selfe: "How now madam Katherin, that Death hath wrought his wyll wyth you, and I could neuer obteyne durynge your life one simple looke from those youre glistering eies, which lately I beheld to my great ouerthrow and decay, wherfore now when you cannot defend your self, I may bee bold (you being dead) to steale from you some desired kisse." When hee had sayd so, beyng already Nyght, and hauynge taken order that none should know of his departure, he gat vpon his Horse, accompanied with one only seruaunt, and wythout taryinge anye where, arriued at the place where his Lady was buryed, and opening the Graue, forthwith he entred in, and laying himself downe besides hir, he approched neare hir face, and many times kissed hir, pouryng forthe great abundance of teares. But as we see the appetyte of Man not to be content excepte it proceede further (specially of sutch as bee in loue) beyng determined to tarrye no longer there, and to departe, he sayd: "Ah God, why should I goe no further, why should I not touche hir, why should I not proue whyther she be alyue or dead?" Vanquished then wyth that motyon, hee felt hir brests, and holding his hand there for a certayne tyme, perceyued hir Heart as it were to pant, and thereby some lyfe remayning in hir: wherefore so softly as he could, wyth the helpe of his man, he raised hir out of the graue: and settynge hir vppon his Horse before him, secretly caried hir home to his house at Bologna. The mother of maister Gentil dwelled there, which was a graue and vertuous Matrone, who vnderstandyng by her sonne the whole effect of that chaunce, moued wyth compassion, vnknowne to anye man, placing hir before a great fire, and comfortyng hir wyth a bathe prepared for the purpose, she recouered lyfe in the Gentlewoman that was supposed to bee deade, who so soone as she was com to hir self, threw forth a great sigh and sayd: "Alas, wher am I now?" To whom the good old woman sayd: "Be of good cheere swete hart, yee bee in a good place." The Gentlewoman hauing wholly recouered hir senses, and looking round about hir, not yet well knowing where she was, and seing maister Gentill before hir, prayed his mother to tell hir how she came thither. To whome maister Gentil declared in order what he had done for hir, and what meanes he vsed to bryng hir thyther: wherof makyng hir complaynt, and lamentyng the lyttle regard and neglygence of hir frends, she rendred vnto hym inumerable thankes. Then she prayed him for the Loue which at other times he bare hir and for his courtesie, that she might not receyue in hys house any thing that should be dishonorable to hir person, ne yet to hir husband, but so soone as it was Daye to suffer hir to goe home to hir owne House: whereunto maister Gentil answered: "Madam, what soeuer I haue desired in time past, now am I fully purposed neuer to demaund any thyng specially in this place or in any other but the safety of your honour, and that I would doe to myne owne sister, sith it hath pleased God to showe me that pleasure, as by my meanes you are reuiued from death to life, and to delyuer you to mee in consideration of the loue that I haue born you heretofore: but this good worke, which this Nyghte I haue done for you, well deserueth some recompence. Wherefore my desire is, that you deny me not the pleasure which I shall demaund:" whome the gentlewoman curteously answered, that shee was very ready, so the same were honest and in hir power to doe. Then sayd mayster Gentil: "Mystresse, all your kin and al they of Bologna, doe beleue for a trouth that you bee deade, wherefore there is none that loketh for your recouery agayne: and the pleasure then whych I demaund, is that you wyll vouchsafe secretlye to tarry here wyth my mother, vntill I retourne from Modena, which shal be with so great expedition as I can: and the cause why I desire the same, is, for that I intend to make a fayre and acceptable present of you vnto your husband in the presence of the principal of this City." The gentlewoman knowing hir self to be greatly bound to the knight, and that hys request was honest, was content to doe what hee demaunded. Albeit shee desired earnestly to reioyce hir frendes for hir recouered life, and so promised vppon hir faith. And vnnethes had she ended hir talke, but she felt the pain of chyldbirth: wherfore wyth the ayde of the mother of maister Gentil, she tarried not long before she was deliuered of a fayre Sonne, which greatly augmented the ioy of maister Gentil and hir. Mayster Gentil commaunded that she should haue al thyngs that were necessary to be ministred vnto hir, and that she should be vsed as his owne Wyfe. Then he pryuily returned to Modena, where when he had a while supplied his office, he returned to Bologna, and prepared a great feast at his house, the same morning that he arriued, for diuers gentlemen of the city, amongs whom Nicholas Chasennemie was one. When the company of the bidden guests wer com, (the gentlewoman in so good health and lykyng as euer she was, and hir Child wel and lusty), he sate down amongs them doing vnto them incomparable myrth and pastime, and serued them bountifully wyth dyuers sortes of meates. When dinner was almost done, hauing before told the Gentlewoman what he ment to doe, and in what manner she should behaue hir selfe, he began thus to say: "My Maysters, I do remember that whilom I haue hearde tell that in the Country of Persia, there was a goodly custom (as me seemeth) that when som one was disposed to do great honour vnto his friend, he bad hym home to his house, and there shewed him the thing whych he loued best, were it wyfe, woman, or daughter, or what so euer it were, affirming that like as he disdayned not to shew the same, which outwardly he loued best, euen so he would if it were possible, willingly discouer his owne heart: whych custome I purpose to obserue in this City. Ye of your curtesie haue vouchsafed to do me so great honour, as to repayre vnto this my simple feast, which benefite I wyl recompence after the Persian manner, by shewing vnto you the thinge which I loue moste deerely aboue any in this worlde, or hereafter shal be able to loue so long as my life endureth: but before I doe the same, I pray you to tell mee your opynyon in a doubte whych I shall propose. There was a certayne person whych in hys house had a good and Faythfull Seruaunte who became extremely sick: that Person without attendyng the end of his diseased seruaunt, caused him to be caried into the midst of the streate wythout any further care for him. In the meane tyme there came a straunger by, who moued by compassion of the sicke seruaunt, bare him home to his owne house, where wyth great care and diligence, sparing no cost or charge, made him to recouer his former healthe: I would now fayne know of you, whither for retaining and vsing the seruice of that seruaunt, his first maister by good right myghte complayne vpon the seconde, if he should demaund hym agayne, or by demaunding of him agayne, the second not disposed to restore him, might susteyne any damage." The gentlemen after many opinions and arguments debated too and fro amonges them, and at length all concluding in one mind, gaue charge to Nicholas Chasennemie, (bicause he was an eloquent talker) to make the answer: who first praising the Persians custome, said that he was, (with the rest) of this opinion, that the first maister had no further title in his seruaunt, hauing in sutch necessity not onely forsaken him, but throwen him into the streate, and that for the good turnes whych the second maister had don him, he ought by good right to be hys: wherefore by kepyng him, he did no wrong, force, or iniury to the first. Al the rest at the Table (which were very discret and honest persons) sayd altogyther that they were of hys opinion. The knight content with that answer, and specially bycause Nicholas Chasennemie had pronounced it, affyrmed that hee was likewyse of that minde, and afterwards he sayd: "Time it is then that I render vnto you the honor which you haue done me, in manner accordyngly as I haue promysed.{"} Then he called vnto him two of hys Seruaunts, and sent them to the Gentlewoman, whom hee had caused to be apparelled and decked very gorgeously, praying hir by hir presence to content and satisfie al the company. And she taking in hir armes hir little faire sonne, came into the hall, accompanied with the two Seruauntes, and was placed (as it pleased the kynght) besides a very honest gentleman, and then he sayde: "Syrs, behold the thing which I loue best, and purpose to loue aboue all worldly things, and whither I haue occasion so to doe, your eyes may bee Iudges." The gentlemen doing their reuerence unto hir, greatly praised hir, and said to the Knight that ther was good reason why she oughte to be beloued: Vpon which commendations they began more attentyuely to behold hir, and many of them would haue sayd and sworne that it had bin shee in deede if it had not bin thought that she had bin dead. But Nicholas beheld hir more than the rest, who very desirous to know what she was, could not forbeare (when he saw that the Knight was a little departed from the place) to aske hir whyther shee was of Bologna, or a straunger. When the Gentlewoman saw hir husband to ask hir that question, she could scarce forbeare from making aunswere, notwithstanding to atchieue that whych was purposed, she helde hir peace. Another asked her yf that little Boye was hers: And another if shee were the Wyfe of mayster Gentil, or any kin vnto hym: vnto whom shee gaue no answere at all. But when maister Gentil came in, one of the straungers sayd vnto him: "Syr, thys gentlewoman is a very good creature, but she seemeth to be dumbe. Is it true or not?" "Syrs,{"} sayde maister Gentil, "that is but a little argument of hir vertue for this time to hold hir peace." "Tell vs then (sayde he) what is she?" "That wil I do very gladly," sayd the knight, "vnder condition that none of you shall remoue out of his place for any thing I speake, vntill I haue ended my tale:" which request being graunted, and the table taken vp, maister Gentil which was set downe by the Gentlewoman, sayd: "My maysters, this gentlewoman is the loyall and faithful seruant, of whom earst I propounded the question, whom I haue releeued from amids the streate, whither hir kin, little caring for hir, threw hir as a vile and vnprofitable thing: and haue by my great care brought to passe, that I haue discharged hir from death, vpon an affection which God knoweth to be so pure and perfect, as of a lumpe of dead lothsome flesh hee hath reuiued so fayre and freshe as you see: but to the intent you may more playnly vnderstand how it is come to passe, I will open the same in few words." And beginning at the day when he fell in loue with hir, he particularly told them, what had chaunced till that time, to the great maruell and admiration of them that heard him, and then added these woordes: "By meanes whereof, if your minde be not chaunged within this litle time, and specially master Nicholas, of good right she is my wife, and none by iust title can clayme hir." Whereunto none at al made answere, looking that he shoulde haue proceeded further. In the meane while Nicholas and the rest that were there, fell into earnest weepinge. But maister Gentil, rising from the borde and taking in his armes the little childe, and the gentlewoman by the hand, went towardes Nicholas, and sayd vnto him: "Rise vp sir gossip, I do not restore vnto thee thy Wife, whom thy frends and householde did cast into the Streat, but I will geue thee this Gentlewoman my Gossip, with the litle childe, that is, as I am assured begotten of thee, for whom at the christening I made answere and promise, and called him Gentil, and do pray thee that she be no lesse esteemed of thee now (for being in my house almost three moneths) than she was before. For I swere by the almighty God, who made me in loue with hir, (peraduenture that my loue might be the cause of hir preseruation) that she neuer liued more honestly with hir father, mother, or with thee, than she hath done in company of my mother." When he had sayd so, he returned towards the Gentlewoman, and sayd vnto hir: "Maistresse, from this time forth, I discharge you of the promise which you haue made me, and leaue you to your husband franke and free." And when he had bestowed the gentlewoman, and the chylde in the fathers armes, he returned to his place agayne. Nicholas ioyfully receyued his Wyfe and childe, for the whych so mutch the more he reioysed, as hee was furthest of from hope of hir recouery, rendering inumerable thankes to the Knight and the rest, and moued with compassion hee wept for company, greatly praysing maister Gentil for that act, who was commended of ech man that heard the reporte thereof. The Gentlewoman was receiued into hir house wyth maruellous ioye: And longe tyme after she was gazed vpon by the Citizens of Bologna, as a thing to their great wonder reuiued agayne. Afterwards Maister Gentil continued styll a friend vnto Nicholas, and vnto hys Wyfe and Chyldren.

THE TWENTIETH NOUELL.

_Saladine in the habite of a Marchaunt, was honourably receyued into
the house of mayster Thorello, who went ouer the Sea, in company of
the Christians, and assigned a terme of his wyfe when she should
mary agayne. He was taken, and caried to the Sovldan to be his
Faulconer, who knowing him, and suffering himself to be knowen, did
him great honour. Mayster Thorello fell sicke, and by Magique Art,
was caried in a night to Pavie, where he found his wyfe about to
mary agayne, who knowinge him, returned home with him to his owne
house._