THE DECAMERON: Collector's Edition - 3 Different Translations by John Payne, John Florio & J.M. Rigg in One Volume. Giovanni Boccaccio
There dwelt not long since in Perugia, a wealthy man named Pedro di Vinciolo, who perhaps more to deceive some other, and restraine an evill opinion which the Perugians had conceived of him, in matter no way beseeming a man, then any beauty or good feature remaining in the woman entred into the estate of marriage. And Fortune was so conforme to him in his election, that the woman whom he had made his wife, had a yong, lusty, and well enabled bodie, a red-haird Wench, hot and fiery spirited, standing more in neede of three Husbands, then he, who could not any way well content one Wife, because his minde ran more on his mony, then those offices and duties belonging to wedlock, which time acquainted his Wife withall, contrary to her owne expectation, and those delights which the estate of marriage afforded, knowing her selfe also to be of a sprightly disposition, and not to be easily tamed by houshold cares and attendances, shee waxed weary of her husbands unkind courses, upbraided him daily with harsh speeches, making his owne home meerly as a hell to him.
When she saw that this domesticke disquietnesse returned her no benefit, but rather tended to her own consumption, then any amendment in her miserable Husband, shee began thus to conferre with her private thoughts. This Husband of mine liveth with me, as if he were no Husband, or I his Wife; the marriage bed, which should be a comfort to us both, seemeth hatefull to him, and as little pleasing to mee, because his minde is on his money, his head busied with worldly cogitations, and early and late in his counting-house, admitting no familiar conversation with me. Why should not I be as respectlesse of him, as he declares him selfe to be of me? I tooke him for an Husband, brought him a good and sufficient Dowry, thinking him to be man, and affected a woman as a man ought to doe, else he had never beene any Husband of mine. If he be a Woman hater, why did he make choice of me to be his Wife? If I had not intended to be of the World, I could have coopt my selfe up in a Cloyster, and shorne my selfe a Nunne, but that I was not born to such severity of life. My youth shall be blasted with age before I can truly understand what youth is, and I shall be branded with the disgraceful word barrennesse, knowing my selfe meete and able to be a Mother, were my Husband but wort the name of a Father, or expected issue and posterity, to leave our memoriall to after times in our race, as all our predecessours formerly have done, and for which mariage was chiefly instituted. Castles long besieged, doe yeeld at the last, and women wronged by their owne husbands, can hardly warrant their owne frailety, especially living among so many temptations, which flesh and bloud are not alwaies able to resist. Well, I meane to be advised in this case, before I will hazard my honest reputation, either to suspition or scandall, then which, no woman can have two heavier enemies, and very few there are that can escape them.
Having thus a long while consulted with her selfe, and (perhaps) oftner then twice or thrice; she became secretly acquainted with an aged woman, generally reputed to be more then halfe a Saint, walking alwayes very demurely in the streetes, counting (over and over) her Paters Nosters, and all the Cities holy pardons hanging at her girdle never talking of any thing, but the lives of the holy Fathers, or the woundes of Saint Frances, all the World admiring her sanctity of life, even as if shee were divinely inspired: this shee Saint must bee our distressed womans Counsellour, and having found out a convenient season, at large she imparted all her minde to her, in some such manner as formerly you have heard, whereto she returned this answer.
Now trust me Daughter, thy case is to be pittied, and so much the rather, because thou art in the flowre and spring time of thy youth, when not a minute of time is to bee left: for there is no greater an errour in this life, then the losse of time, because it cannot bee recovered againe; and when the fiends themselves affright us, yet if wee keepe our embers still covered with warme ashes on the hearth, they have not any power to hurt us. If any one can truly speake thereof, then I am able to deliver true testimony; for I know, but not without much perturbation of minde, and piercing afflictions in the spirit; how much time I lost without any profit. And yet I lost not all, for I would not have thee thinke me to bee so foolish, that I did altogether neglect such an especiall benefit; which when I call to mind, and consider now in what condition I am, thou must imagine, it is no small hearts griefe to mee, that age should make me utterly despised, and no fire affoorded to light my tinder.
With men it is not so, they are borne apt for a thousand occasions, as well for the present purpose wee talke of, as infinite other beside; yea, and many of them are more esteemed being aged, then when they were young. But women serve onely for mens contentation, and to bring Children; and therefore are they generally beloved, which if they faile of, either it is by unfortunate marriage, or some imperfection depending on nature, not through want of good will in themselves. Wee have nothing in this World but what is given us, in which regard, wee are to make use of our time, and employ it the better while wee have it. For, when wee grow to bee old, our Husbands, yea, our very dearest and nearest Friends, will scarsely looke on us. Wee are then fit for nothing, but to sit by the fire in the Kitchin, telling tales to the Cat, or counting the Pots and Pannes on the shelves. Nay, which is worse, Rimes and Songs is made of us, even in meere contempt of our age, and commendation of such as are young, the daintiest morsels are fittest for them, and wee referred to feed on the scrappes from their Trenchers, or such reversion as they can spare us. I tell thee Daughter, thou couldst not make choyce of a meeter woman in all the City, to whom thou mightest safely open thy minde, and knowes better to advise thee then I doe. But remember withall, that I am poore, and it is your part not to suffer poverty to bee unsupplyed. I will make thee partaker of all these blessed pardons, at every Altar I will say a Pater Noster, and an Ave Maria, that thou maist prosper in thy hearts desires, and be defended from foule sinne and shame, and so she ended her Motherly counsell.
Within a while after, it came to passe, that her Husband was invited foorth to supper, with one named Herculano, a kinde Friend of his, but his Wife refused to goe, because she had appointed a Friend to Supper with her, to whom the old woman was employed as her messenger, and was well recompenced for her labour. This friend was a gallant proper youth, as any all Perugia yeelded, and scarcely was hee seated at the Table, but her Husband was returned backe, and called to bee let in at the doore. Which when shee perceived, she was almost halfe dead with feare, and coveting to hide the young man, that her Husband should not have any sight of him, shee had no other meanes, but in an entry, hard by the Parlour where they purposed to have supt, stood a Coope or Hen-pen, wherein shee used to keepe her Pullen, under which hee crept, and then shee covered it with an olde empty Sacke, and after ranne ranne to let her Husband come in. When hee was entred into the House; as halfe offended at his so sudden returne, angerly she saide: It seemes Sir you are a shaver at your meate, that you have made so short a Supper. In troth Wife (quoth hee) I have not supt at all, no not so much as eaten one bit. How hapned that, said the woman? Marry Wife (quoth hee) I will tell you, and then thus he began.
As Herculano, his Wife, and I were sitting downe at the Table, very neere unto us wee heard one sneeze, whereof at the first wee made no reckoning, untill wee heard it againe the second time, yeal a third, fourth, and fifth, and many more after, whereat wee were not a little amazed. Now Wife I must tell you, before wee entred the roome where we were to sup, Herculanoes Wife kept the doore fast shut against us, and would not let us enter in an indifferent while; which made him then somewhat offended, but now much more, when hee had heard one to sneeze so often. Demaunded of her a reason for it, and who it was that thus sneezed in his House: hee started from the Table, and stepping to a little doore neere the staires head, necessarily made, to set such things in, as otherwise would be troublesome to the roome, (as in all Houses we commonly see the like) he perceived, that the party was hidden there, which wee had heard so often to sneeze before.
No sooner had hee opened the doore, but stich a smell of brimstone came foorth (whereof wee felt not the least savour before) as made us likewise to cough and sneeze, being no way able to refraine it. Shee seeing her Husband to bee much moved, excused the matter thus: that (but a little while before) shee had whited certaine linnen with the smoake of brimstone, as it is a usuall thing to doe, and then set the Pan into that spare place, because it should not bee offensive to us. By this time, Herculano had espied him that sneezed, who being almost stifled with the smell, and closenesse of the small roome wherein hee lay, had not any power to helpe himselfe, but still continued coughing and sneezing, even as if his heart would have split in twaine. Foorth hee pluckt him by the heeles, and perceiving how matter had past, hee saide to her. I thanke you Wife now I see the reason, why you kept us so long from comming into this