~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From "The Italian Novelists" translated from the originals with Critical and Biographical Notices by Thomas Roscoe; Frederick Warne and Co.; London; [undated edition, <1900>, first published c. 1824]; pp. 51-66.
[51]
[Part 3]
Novels of Giovanni Boccaccio.
___________
SECOND DAY, NOVELLA VI.
AFTER the death of the Emperor Frederic II., Manfred was crowned King of Sicily, in whose court was a gentleman of Naples, in high authority, called Arrighetto Capece, who had a wife, a beautiful and elegant woman, by birth also a Neapolitan, called Madonna Beritola Caracciola. Whilst this Arrighetto was left in the government of the kingdom of Sicily, he received intelligence that Charles I. had won the battle of Beneventum and slain Manfred, and seeing the whole kingdom soon after revolting to Charles, and placing little reliance on the
52
fidelity of the Sicilians, and unwilling to make his submission to the enemy of his sovereign, he took instant measures to secure his safety by flight. His intentions were, however, discovered by the Sicilians, and he, and many of his friends, partisans of Manfred, were delivered over to the new king, and the possession of the island confirmed to him. Madonna Beritola on this sudden change of fortune, ignorant of the fate of her husband and fearing the worst, abandoned everything, and with her son of about eight years of age, called Geoffrey, hired a bark, and fled in a destitute state to Lipari. She there very soon gave birth to another son, whom she named Scacciato (the poor expelled), and taking with her a nurse, they all went on board again, in order to return to her parents in Naples. But it fell out contrary to her expectations, for the vessel was driven from her course by a violent gale to the Isle of Poroga, where, seeking shelter in a small bay, they waited till the storm should subside. Madonna Beritola went on shore in the island with the rest of the party, and happening in her walk to meet with a solitary and secluded dell, she sate down all alone to mourn over her lost husband. Day after day she indulged herself in this melancholy pleasure, and it happened on one occasion, when she was thus absent, that a corsair galley surprised their little bark, captured it, and carried it away, with all the persons on board. Madonna Beritola, when her mournful task was ended, returned as usual to the shore to her children, but was surprised to find the place deserted. Immediately suspecting what had really happened, she turned her eyes to the deep, and there saw the corsair departing at no great distance, carrying the smaller vessel away with her. From this she instantly perceived the extent of her calamity, and that, as before she had lost her husband, so she was now deprived of her children; and in this wretched state, deserted, solitary, and friendless, calling on her husband and children, she fell down in a swoon on the seashore. No kind hand was near to throw cold water on her face, or restore her to herself; but her spirits took their own course, and as soon as her lost powers were restored to her, in a flood of tears and grief she again called on her children, searching for them, though she knew it to be in vain, in every cave on the shore. She soon found that all her labours were fruitless, and night approaching, amidst conflicting hopes and fears, she began to provide for her own safety, and quitting the shore, returned to the spot which had been the scene of her daily lamentations. The night being passed amidst a crowd of fears and alarms, the bright day again appeared, and compelled her to seek some food for her sustenance in the woods and fields; and having gathered some roots and herbs, she again resigned herself to melancholy reflections on her future destiny. As she traversed the woods absorbed in these pensive meditations, she observed a goat enter a cave, and a little while after come forth again. Upon this she paused, and entering the cave, found in it two young kids, yeaned as it seemed the self-same day. These two young kids in her present desolate state appeared to her the most engaging creatures in the world; and as from her recent delivery she had milk, she lay down before them, and taking them tenderly up in her arms, placed one to each breast,
53
to which they made no refusal, and from that time seemed to make no distinction between her and their dam. The hapless Beritola thus found companions in her solitary abode, and preserved her life by feeding on roots and drinking the running water, often weeping in silence when she remembered her husband and her children, and her former happy days, and making up her mind to live and die in this desert island. After she had led this savage life for some months, it happened that at the very spot where she had landed there arrived a bark from Pisa, which remained there several days. On board this vessel was a gentleman called Conrad de’ Marchesi Malespini, with his wife, a noble and devout woman. They had been absent on a pilgrimage, and having visited all the holy places in Apulia, were now on their return home. This gentleman, accompanied by his wife, happened one day to wander up into the island, not far from Madonna Beritola’s solitary abode. Having his servants and dogs with him, the hounds, in hunting after game, came suddenly upon the two kids, which had now attained their growth and were seeking their food. The kids finding themselves pursued by the hounds, fled through the wood to the cave where Madonna Beritola sate, seeming to implore her protection. Seeing their danger, she suddenly caught up a staff and compelled the hounds to relinquish their pursuit. By this time Conrad and his wife, who had closely followed the chase, came up, and seeing what had passed, beheld with amazement a lady with long black dishevelled hair, savage in her appearance and wretched in her attire; nor was Madonna Beritola less astonished to behold the strangers. When, at her request, Conrad had called off his dogs, they entreated to know who she was and the reason of her living there. She then narrated her story, and expressed her determination to live and die in the island. When Conrad, who was well acquainted with Arrighetto Capece, heard her tale, compassion forced tears from his eyes, and he earnestly endeavoured to change her determination, offering to conduct her in safety to his own house, where he promised she should remain with him as much respected as his own sister, until fortune should again smile on her. When Madonna Beritola resisted these kind offers, the gentleman left his wife with her, saying that he would go and procure some food for her, and bring her some of his wife’s dress, as her own was rent and torn, hoping by these means to induce her to change her mind. His wife remained with Madonna Beritola, compassionating her misfortunes, and when both viands and garments were brought, they prevailed on her by great intercession to change her dress and to partake of the food, although she protested she would not depart into any place where she might be known. At length they persuaded her to accompany them to Lunigiana, carrying also with her the two kids and their dam, which were then sporting round her in the cave, to the great admiration of Conrad’s lady. As soon as the weather grew favourable for their departure, Madonna Beritola embarked with Conrad and his wife, followed by the young goats and their dam, and as her name was known only to Conrad and his lady, the servants and ship’s crew called her the goat-herdess. A gentle and favourable gale soon bringing them to the mouth of the Magra,
54
they landed near Conrad’s castle. Madonna Beritola here became a companion to the wife of Conrad, wearing a widow’s dress, the goats always familiarly keeping them company.
The corsairs who had seized on the bark in the island of Ponzo, and had carried it away in the absence of Madonna Beritola, sailed with their prize to Genoa, and there dividing the spoil amongst the owners of the galley, it happened that the nurse of Madonna Beritola and the two children fell to the lot of one Messer Gasparino d’Oria, who sent them to his house to add to the number of his domestics and to assist them in their duties. The nurse wept and grieved beyond measure at the loss of her lady, and the wretched condition into which she and the children were now fallen. But she saw that tears were of no avail, and that she must share in their fate, and though of humble condition, she was yet discreet; wherefore comforting herself as well as she could, and considering the nature of their disaster, she wisely judged that the children, if they were recognised, might incur greater dangers, and moreover indulging a hope that fortune might change, and perhaps restore them at some time or other to the expectancies of their birth, she resolved not to discover them to any person until a proper time presented itself, but to reply to all who asked her that they were her own children. To the elder, who was called Geoffrey, she gave the name of Gianotto di Procida, but did not change the name of the youngest. She acquainted Geoffrey with the necessity of this alteration, and to what danger he exposed himself by making himself known; and this she many times and earnestly impressed on his mind, and the boy very assiduously observed her injunctions. Thus badly clothed and worse shod, the two boys with their nurse for many years patiently endured their hard lot under the roof of Messer Gasparino. But Gianotto, who had now reached his sixteenth year, had too high a spirit to remain a menial. Despising the baseness of servitude, he forsook the roof of Messer Gasparino, and entered on board a galley bound for Alexandria, and made many voyages, though without much advancement. At length, after the lapse of three or four years, being now full grown and of a handsome person, and having learnt that his father, whom he had considered as dead, was yet living though held in prison by King Charles, he despaired of bettering his condition, and wandering about, arrived at Lunigiana, and there by chance engaged himself in the service of Conrad Malespini, whose favour he soon won by his good conduct. He here frequently saw his mother, who still lived as a companion to Conrad’s lady, though without recognising her; nor did she know her son again, time had so much changed them both since their separation. Whilst Gianotto was thus in the service of Conrad, it happened that a daughter of Conrad, whose name was Spina, the widow of one Nicolada Grignano, returned to her father’s house. She was beautiful, and engaging, and young, being little more than sixteen years of age, and from the first time she saw Gianotto became deeply enamoured of him, which on his part was returned with an equal flame. This passion was indulged in by them for many months, unknown to all; but relying too much on their imagined security, and forgetting the precautions requisite on such
55
occasions, they were eventually surprised, first by the mother of the young lady, and afterwards by Conrad himself. Conrad was beyond measure grieved and exasperated at this discovery, and without further inquiry ordered his servants to place them in confinement in one of his castles, and in the first moment of his rage vowed to condemn them both to a shameful death. The mother of the lady, although she was irritated and considered her daughter highly deserving of punishment for the indulgence of her passion, yet having learned from some words of Conrad his intentions towards the culprits, she could not suffer the thoughts of exposing them to such danger, and instantly repaired to her husband, imploring him to set bounds to his wrath, and not, in his old age, to imbrue his hands in the blood of his child, but to satisfy his revenge by condemning them to imprisonment, and so letting them there atone for their offence. By these intercessions the lady at length altered her husband’s mind, and he now ordered that they should be separately imprisoned, but without any comforts and on a restricted diet, until he should otherwise determine respecting them, which was accordingly done. Doomed to tears and captivity and wretched sustenance, they were thus left to deplore their unhappy lot.
A year had now passed over Gionotto and Spina in their prison without Conrad at all relenting, when it happened that Don Pedro, king of Arragon, by means of Messer Giandi Procida, caused an insurrection in Sicily, by which King Charles was suddenly dispossessed of that kingdom. This event was highly gratifying to Conrad, who was a Ghibelline; and Gianotto, hearing this intelligence from one of his guards, heaved a deep sigh, and said, “Unhappy wretch that I am! fourteen years I have been wandering, anxiously expecting this event, and now that it comes, I am unable to avail myself of it, being confined in a prison from which I shall probably never escape with life.” “How,” said the guard, “can the affairs of monarchs concern you so nearly? What have you to do in Sicily?” “My heart,” he replied, “is well-nigh broken when I think of the high station my father held there; for although I was but a child when we fled thence, I well remember him governor under King Manfred.” “And who was your father?” said the guard. “My father,” said Gianotto, “as I may now with safety deliver his name, is Arrighetto Capece, if he still lives, and my name is Geoffrey, and not Gianotto; and I doubt not that if I were now freed from prison, and could return to Sicily, I should have some place of authority bestowed on me.” The honest guard, without any further inquiry, took the first opportunity of narrating this conversation to Conrad. Conrad seemed to hear it as a matter of indifference, but immediately repaired to Madonna Beritola, and courteously inquired if she had ever had a son by Arrighetto of the name of Geoffrey. The lady replied in tears that the elder of the two sons she had lost was so called, and that if he were living, he would be then twenty-two years of age. On hearing this, Conrad imagined this Gianotto must be the person, and if occurred to him that he might give a signal instance of his forgiveness, and at the same time preserve the reputation of his daughter, by
56
bestowing her in marriage on Geoffrey. He therefore commanded Gianotto to be secretly brought before him, and examined him minutely with regard to his past life; and finding, by undoubted proofs, that he was really the eldest son of Arrighetto Capece, he thus addressed him: “Gianotto, you are well aware of the injury you have done me with respect to my daughter, at a time when I relied on your fidelity and when you should have served me with truth and honour; and there are many persons, who, under such circumstances, would have condemned you to an ignominious death, which compassion would not suffer in me. Now that you inform me that you are the son of noble parents, I am as anxious as you can be yourself to put an end to your sufferings, and to release you from the wretched captivity in which you have so long pined, and thus restore your honour and my own at the same time. Spina, for whom you have entertained such a fervent passion, you well know is a widow, and her dowry is great and noble; her qualities, and those of her father and mother, you are intimately acquainted with; of your present situation I say nothing. It is therefore my wish, that as before she was too much beloved of you, she should now become your wife, and in the quality of my children both you and she may, as long as you think well, remain with me.” Long confinement had emaciated Gianotto, but had in no degree reduced his noble spirit, founded on the consciousness of his high birth, nor had it at all impaired the true affection he still bore to his fair friend; and although he earnestly desired what Conrad proposed, and saw himself wholly in his power, he fully maintained his noble bearing, and replied, “Conrad, neither love of authority, nor lust of gain, nor any other cause could induce me to become traitor to you or yours. It is true I loved your daughter, and love her still, and shall ever love her, since I consider her in every way worthy of my affection. That which you now offer me has long been the height of my desire, and if I had thought that you would have conceded it to me, I should long since have requested it of you, and it is now the more dear to me as it comes unexpected. But, if your intentions do not answer to your words, I pray you not to flatter me with vain hopes, but to remand me to my solitary prison and hard usage; for my love is such to Spina, that out of regard to her I shall always esteem you and hold you in reverence, whatever your conduct may be to me.” Conrad was not a little astonished at the lofty spirit of Gianotto, and esteemed him the more for his unabated love to his daughter, and instantly rising, he kissed his cheeks and embraced him, and without further delay desired that Spina should be brought to him. Spina had become pale and feeble through her imprisonment, and was as much changed in appearance as Gianotto. The nuptials, with the consent of all parties, and according to the usage of our Church, were immediately solemnised in the presence of Conrad; and after the lapse of a few days, having provided them with everything suitable, and their health being in some degree restored, it seemed to him high time to communicate the agreeable intelligence to their mothers. One day, therefore, addressing the goat-herdess, he said, “What would you think, madam, if I were to show you your
57
eldest son, lately married to one of my daughters?” To which the goat-herdess replied, “I can only say that it will add to the obligations I am now under to you, if that be possible, and the more so if you restore my son to me, who is dearer to me than my life; and rendering him to me in the manner you mention, it will bring back to me some portion of my lost hopes;” and with these words the tears streamed abundantly down her cheeks. Conrad then turning to his own wife, said, “And you, dear love, what will you say if I show you such a son-in-law?” To which the lady answered, “What pleaseth you must satisfy me, be he a gentleman or a beggar.” “Then,” said Conrad, “I hope in the course of a few days to add to the happiness of you both.” And the young couple having now recovered their good looks, and being suitably apparelled, Conrad said to Geoffrey, “Would it not add to your present joy to meet your long-lost mother here?” “I can hardly,” replied Geoffrey, “persuade myself that she has escaped with life from the midst of her calamities, but such an event would be doubly acceptable to me, as by her good counsels it is possible our family might be restored its former station in society.” Conrad then sent for the ladies, and they were both not a little surprised and delighted to see the new-married couple, wondering what had so suddenly changed Conrad’s resentment into affection and induced him to give his daughter to Gianotto. Madonna Beritola calling to mind the words of Conrad, began to regard her son, and natural instinct awakening in her some recollection of the features of her son, without waiting for any other confirmation, she ran to him, and caught him in her arms, and clasped him to her bosom; nor in the fulness of her maternal joy was she able to utter a word. Her spirits at last were so entirely entranced, that she fell as if dead into the arms of her son. He, too, was struck with astonishment, recollecting to have seen her many times before in the castle without recognising her; but the very transport of his heart assuring him that she was his mother, he now blamed himself for his long neglect of her, threw his arms around her, and kissed and embraced her with a flood of filial tears. Conrad’s lady and Spina now ran to the assistance of Madonna Beritola, and having by their friendly assiduity recovered her, she again embraced her son with many tears and many tender words, and, overpowered with maternal love, kissed him a thousand times and more, he at the same time as strongly manifesting his filial affection. After many an interchange of joy, to the delight of the bystanders, they mutually related their past adventures to each other, and Conrad having communicated to his friends this new alliance in his family, and invited them to a magnificent feast on the occasion, Geoffrey addressing him, said, “Conrad, you have made me infinitely happy, and have conferred numerous favours on my honoured mother; but that at this joyful conclusion nothing may remain undone that it is in your power to effect, I have to entreat that you will further add to the felicity of my mother, and the guests, and myself, by sending for my brother, who is now a servant to Messer Gasparino D’Oria, who, as I have related to you, captured us both in his corsair bark on the seas, and afterwards I
58
will entreat you to despatch a messenger into Sicily, who may fully inform himself of the present state of that country, and make inquiries after my father, Arrighetto, whether he be dead or alive; and if he be living, whether he hold any place in authority under the government, and then return to us with all the information in his power.” Conrad was so much pleased with this request of Geoffrey, that he immediately despatched two confidential persons to Genoa and Sicily. The envoy to Genoa soon found Messer Gasparino, and earnestly requested him, from Conrad, to send him the exiled youth and his nurse, detailing to him all that Conrad had done for the other son and his mother. Messer Gasparino was not a little surprised at this request, but said, “It will be a pleasure to me to gratify Messer Conrad’s wishes to the utmost of my power. It is indeed true that I have had in my house for the last fourteen years the boy you mention, and a woman who has passed for his mother, both of whom I will freely deliver up to your master; but at the same time tell him from me to be cautious how he lends belief to the tales of Gianotto, who now, you say, calls himself Geoffrey, because he is more mischievous than he taketh him to be, and as I know by experience.” Having thus given an honourable reception to the envoy, he secretly called the nurse to him, and examined her very minutely with regard to these transactions. The nurse having heard of the happy change in Sicily, and having learnt that Arrighetto was still living, now divested herself of all her former fears, and related everything as it had happened, and her reason for having so long concealed the truth. Messer Gasparino finding the story of the nurse to correspond with the account of Conrad’s envoy, began to think the narrative true, and making all further search into the affair that his ingenuity could suggest, and finding every thing to corroborate the story, and, moreover, reproaching himself for his hard usage of the boy, and knowing the high station which Arrighetto formerly held, and desiring to make him every reparation in his power, he gave him his only daughter, a beautiful girl of fifteen years of age, with a bountiful and honourable dower, in marriage. After some days’ feasting, he went on board a well-armed galley, with the exiled youth, his daughter, the envoy, and the nurse, and sailed to Lerici, where they were received by Conrad, whose castle was not far from thence, and who conducted them to share in the grand entertainment. But the joy of the mother, having her second son thus restored to her, the meeting of the two brothers, the garrulous felicity of the old nurse, and the many congratulations paid to Gasparino and his daughter, and to Conrad, and his lady and daughter, I have not words to describe, and must leave it to yourselves to imagine. To complete this universal joy, God, who is a bountiful Giver when He beginneth, added the long-wished-for tidings concerning the life and good estate of Arrighetto Capece; for in the midst of the feast, when all the noble guests were seated at table, they were agreeably surprised with the return of the envoy to Sicily. He informed them that at the time of the late tumult the people ran to the castle, where Arrighetto was imprisoned by King Charles, and in a rage slew the guards, and set Arrighetto at liberty, and knowing him
59
to be implacably hostile to the king, they placed him at the head of their forces to assist in expelling and chasing out the French: that by this means he stood high in favour with the new king, who restored him to his honours and estates, and gave him a situation of high authority. He added that he himself had been received by Arrighetto with the highest honours, and that there were the greatest rejoicings in his house on hearing of his wife’s and children’s safety, of whom he had never heard since the hour of his imprisonment; and he moreover informed them that a fast-sailing bark was on its way thither, with a company of noble gentlemen from Arrighetto. On this there was a general rejoicing, and Conrad and his friends went out to meet the gentlemen, and invited them to partake of their entertainment. When they arrived, they recognised, to their great delight, Madonna Beritola and Geoffrey, and before sitting down to table, they saluted and returned their thanks to Conrad and his lady, on the part of Arrighetto, for the honour done to his wife and son, desiring them to command Arrighetto in everything in his power; then turning to Messer Gasparino (whose liberal favours came unlooked for), they assured him that when Arrighetto should hear of his kindness to the exiled youth, he too would receive as ample a testimony of his gratitude. After Conrad had held these rejoicings for several days, time seemed to call on Madonna Beritola and Geoffrey and the others to depart. Bidding adieu, therefore, with many tears, to Conrad and his lady, and to Messer Gasparino, they embarked on board the galley and set sail, and having a prosperous wind, soon reached Sicily. Madonna Beritola and her sons and their ladies were joyfully met by Arrighetto at Palermo, where they long lived happy and united, frequently returning thanks to God for the many mercies received at his hands.
___________
SECOND DAY, NOVELLA VIII.
AT the time when the Roman Empire passed from the French to the Germans, great dissensions arose between the two nations, which ultimately led to an exasperated and long-continued war. It was during this period that the king of France and his son called together their friends and confederates, and assembled their forces in order to protect their dominions and march against the common enemy. But before they set out on their expedition, they thought it incumbent on them to appoint a suitable governor of the kingdom in their absence, and knowing from experience the Count of Angiers to be a man of singular talents, as well as of undoubted loyalty, and although a man skilled in military affairs, yet, from his habits of life, not calculated to endure the fatigues of war, they appointed him viceroy of the whole realm of France, and then departed on their enterprise. The Count entered on his government with prudence, and conducted every department with talent, at the same time consulting on every occasion the
60
queen and her fair daughter-in-law, whom, although they were left under his care, he still considered as his superiors, and treated them with honour and respect. The Count of Angiers was a man of handsome person, and as affable and agreeable and as polished in manners as any man of his time. Soon after the departure of the king of France and his son, the wife of the Count died, leaving to her husband two young children, a boy and a girl. The Count being in the habit of frequenting the court, and often consulting the queen and her daughter-in-law on the affairs of the kingdom, it happened that the daughter-in-law fixed her eyes on the Count, and smitten by his handsome person and agreeable manners, fell deeply in love with him; and being one day alone, but seeing a favourable occasion for her to discover her attachment, she sent for him as if to converse with him on some indifferent subject. The Count, whose thoughts were far from conjecturing anything of her real intentions, repaired to her without delay. He found her quite alone in her apartment, and requesting more than once to know the object of her wishes, since she was quite silent, although he had come at her request, she at last, trembling and weeping, and with incoherent words, discovered her passion to him. The Count, who was one of the most loyal of cavaliers, immediately reprehended her, solemnly declaring that he would suffer the most ignominious death rather than crouch to the dishonour of his lord, either in his own person or that of another. Upon this declaration, the lady’s affection was suddenly turned into the most violent and implacable hate. “Basest of men!” she exclaimed, “and dare you thus despise my love? But since you doom me to death, you shall yourself share the like fate!” and at the same moment she began to tear her hair, and cry out for help as a woman in the deepest distress, declaring that the Count had attempted her honour. When the Count saw this sudden turn, though supported by his conscious integrity, he yet feared the malice of his enemies at court, and judging that more belief would be attached to the calumnious report of the lady than to his own asseverations of innocence, he instantly left the apartment, and rushing out of the palace, fled to his own house, where, without a moments delay, he placed his two children on a horse, and mounting another himself, he fled in all possible haste to Calais. The cries of the lady brought many persons of the household to her assistance, and when they heard the cause of her pretended distress, they gave full credit to her story, knowing the access which the Count at all times possessed to the royal apartments. The enraged populace immediately ran to the Count’s house to seize his person, but not finding him, they plundered the house, and then razed it to the ground. The intelligence of the Count’s supposed treachery soon reached the ears of the king and his son, who, in their exasperation, sentenced the Count and his children to perpetual banishment, promising a great reward to whomsoever would take him alive or dead. The Count, grieving over his unhappy lot, which had, notwithstanding his innocence, driven him forth as a fugitive, arrived without being recognised at Calais, passed over to England in all haste, and when he had reached London, gave his two young children the strictest injunctions with
61
regard to two things; first, that they should endure their poor condition, into which they were unfortunately cast, without a murmur, and, secondly, that they should take the greatest care not to discover to any person whence they came or whose children they were, if they had any regard to their lives. One of the children was a son, called Luigi, of about nine years old, the other a daughter of the name of Violante, of perhaps seven years of age; and notwithstanding their tender years, they fully understood the advice of their father, and resolved to act upon it. The better to conceal their origin, the Count gave his son the name of Perotto, and his daughter he called Gianetta, and under these circumstances they began to ask charity like poor foreigners in the streets of London. It happened one morning, as they were standing at a church door, that the lady of one of the marshals of the king, as she was coming out of church, saw the Count and his two children begging alms. She asked him whence he came, and whether or not the children were his own. To this he replied that he was of Picardy, and that, through the misconduct of his eldest son, he was obliged to leave his country with these his two younger children. The lady, who was of a compassionate disposition, fixed her eyes on the daughter, who attracted her notice, as she was beautiful and of an agreeable and engaging appearance; and, addressing the Count, she said, “Honest man, if you be content, you may leave your daughter in my hands, for her appearance pleases me very much, and if she grows up a handsome woman, when she becomes marriageable, I will bestow her in an advantageous manner.” This request was highly gratifying to the Count, and he instantly expressed his assent, and with many tears delivered his daughter to the lady, entreating her tender care of her. Having thus satisfactorily disposed of his daughter to a lady of rank, he resolved to remain no longer in London, and, begging his way, he traversed England and arrived in Wales, not without great fatigue, unaccustomed as he was to travel on foot. Here he found another of the marshals of the king, who lived in great state and had a numerous family; and the Count and his son often repaired to his court to ask alms. It chanced that the son of the marshal and other children of the nobility were accustomed to exercise themselves in youthful sports, as leaping and running. Perotto occasionally mingled with them, and excelled them all in so surprising a manner, that he at last excited the admiration of the marshal, who inquired whose son he was. He was informed that he was the son of a poor man who came to the gates to beg his bread. Upon this the marshal sent for him, and asked his son from him. The Count, though not without some struggles of affection, yielded his consent, and having now disposed of both of his children, resolved to remain no longer in England, but passed over to Ireland, and coming to Stamford, engaged himself in the service of a nobleman of the country, engaging to fulfil all the duties of a groom, and in that condition, without being discovered, he continued for a long period in a state of hard service. Violante, now called Gianetta, under the care of the lady in London increased in beauty as she grew in years, and was held in extraordinary favour by the lady and her husband and their household, and by all that saw her; nor were there any who
62
observed her carriage and manners who did not consider her deserving of the highest honours that fortune could bestow on her. But the lady who had adopted her, knowing nothing more of her birth than what she learnt from her father, intended to dispose of her in a reputable manner, agreeable to what she considered her rank in life. But God, the just Disposer of merit, who knew her worth and how innocently she was suffering, ordered it otherwise, and did not allow her to fall to the lot of an ignoble husband. The lady with whom Gianetta lived had by her husband an only son, who was extremely beloved both by his father and mother, and deservedly so, from his handsome person, and many virtues, and manly accomplishments. This son was about six years older than Gianetta, and seeing her so beautiful and engaging, became deeply enamoured of her; but, because he believed her to be of low birth, he not only did not dare to ask her in marriage from his father and mother, but fearing to be reproved for fixing his affections so much beneath him, he wholly concealed his passion. This circumstance increased it more than if he had made it known, and labouring long under this concealment, he at length fell sick. The most eminent physicians were called to his assistance, and none of them being able to discover the cause of his malady, they all seemed to despair of his recovery. Both his parents on this were overwhelmed with grief, and with supplications and tears entreated him to make known the cause of his malady; to which he only replied by his sighs, or his assurance that he was gradually wasting away. Now it chanced that as a young but skilful physician was one day seated by him feeling his pulse, Gianetta, who out of regard to his mother attended on him with great assiduity, for some cause or other entered the chamber where the young man lay. Her presence, though she was silent, suddenly increased the flame of love in the young man’s breast, so that his pulse began to beat faster than before, which the physician immediately perceiving, was not a little surprised, and waited to see how long the increased pulsation would last. Gianetta had no sooner left the chamber, than the pulse fell to its usual state, and the physician now concluded that he had discovered the cause of his malady. After a little time had elapsed, he desired Gianetta might be sent for again into the room, under a pretence of speaking with her. She instantly returned, and on her appearance the pulse of the young man again increased, and fell again on her leaving the room. The physician now thinking that he had full confirmation of his suspicions, arose, and taking the father and mother apart, thus addressed them: “The recovery of your son, I may tell you, is not in the power of physicians, but is wholly in the hands of your fair maid, Gianetta, with whom, I have by indubitable signs discovered, he is passionately in love, although, as far as I can judge, she is herself wholly ignorant of it. You now know how to act, and must judge how far his life is dear to you.” The nobleman and his lady on hearing this were greatly rejoiced, inasmuch as there now seemed to be a way left to preserve his life, though they were disconcerted to find the remedy could only be supplied by bestowing Gianetta in marriage on their son. As soon as the physician departed, the lady repaired to her sick son, and
63
addressing him, said, “My dear son, I did not think that you would ever have concealed from me any of your wishes or desires, more particularly when that concealment endangers your very life; since you ought to be well assured that there is nothing in the world in my power that I would not do for you; but though you have had no regard for me or yourself, yet God has extended His compassion to us, and, in order to save your life, has miraculously discovered to me the cause of your disease, which is no other than the passionate love you bear to some young maid or other, whoever she may be. Therefore, my dear son, do not further conceal your love from me, but discover to me openly all your secret thoughts, and cast off the melancholy and despair which nave seized on you, and if I do not find means for you to obtain your wishes, set me down as the most cruel of mothers.” The young man, on hearing these words from his mother, was at first abashed; but when he recovered himself, he said, “Madam, I will indeed not only not deny that your surmises are true, but I will make a full confession to you, in the hope that you will be able to fulfil your promise and restore me to health.” The lady having again assured him of her utmost endeavours to assist him, he thus continued: “You must know then, madam, that the exalted beauty and enchanting manners of our Gianetta have taken entire possession of my heart, and that the concealment of my passion, and my fear of discovering it to any one, have in secret preyed upon my health, and brought me into the sad condition in which you now see me; and, in truth, if you are not able to fulfil your promise, my life will not be of long continuance.” The lady, who was highly comforted at this declaration, replied smiling, “Alas, my son, why have you endangered your life from a cause like this? Be comforted, and leave your recovery to me.” The mother now related all that had passed to her husband, and although the circumstance grieved them not a little, they mutually agreed to marry Gianetta to their son, choosing rather to preserve their son alive with a wife not suitable to him, than abandon him to a lingering death. They then made known their intentions to Gianetta, who, blushing, gave her consent and with a thankful heart expressed her gratitude to God for his instance of His goodness; nor did she, on this occasion assume the merit of her noble birth, but was betrothed as the daughter of a poor man of Picardy. The young man instantly recovered from his sickness, and the nuptials were celebrated with great rejoicings. Perotto, in the meantime, who had remained in Wales, had won the favour of his lord, and was become one of the handsomest and most accomplished young men of the island, so that in the jousts and tournaments he bore away the prize on all occasions, and had become everywhere famous under the name of the valiant Perotto of Picardy; and as it had pleased God to bestow a happy fortune on his sister, so he himself was not forgotten, as will appear. A destructive pestilence happened to break out in the country, which swept away one-half of the inhabitants, and the greater part of the survivors fled into distant parts, so that the land appeared almost depopulated. The marshal and his lady and their son, with many of their relations, fell victims to this mortality, and there remained alive only one
64
daughter of the whole family, and some of the servants, together with Perotto. On the plague subsiding, the damsel, at the solicitations of her surviving friends and the people of the country, gave herself in marriage to Perotto, who was highly esteemed for his valour and accomplishments, and thus made him lord of all the inheritance which had fallen to her; and the king of England hearing at this time of the death of the marshal, and being well acquainted with the character and talents of the valiant Perotto of Picardy, appointed him in the place of the late marshal. Such, in the course of a few years, was the good fortune attending both the children of the Count of Angiers. The eighteenth year was now past since the Count fled from Paris, and old age had crept on him apace since he had been in the service of the nobleman in Ireland; but finding himself, from habits of exercise, even more robust than in his youthful and courtly days, he took leave of the master with whom he had so long lived, and came over to England in poor condition, and, repairing to the place where he had left Perotto, he found him advanced to high dignities, greatly esteemed, and fair and noble in person. He was greatly rejoiced at this discovery, but would not make himself known until he learned what fate had attended his daughter. He therefore departed for that purpose, and did not stop till he reached London. There he made secret inquiries concerning the lady with whom he had left his child, and at length ascertained that Gianetta was married to her son, at which his joy was unbounded, and he even held all his adversity and suffering as light, since he had found both his children alive, and honourably disposed of. Being desirous of seeing his daughter, he repaired to the neighbourhood of her house. He there one day excited the compassion of Giachetto Lamiens (for so the husband of Gianetta was named), who seeing him poor and aged, ordered one of his servants to ask him into the house and give him relief, which the servant cheerfully did. Now Gianetta had by Giachetto several sons, the eldest of whom was not more than eight years of age, and they were the most beautiful and engaging children in the world. They no sooner observed the poor old Count eating his meat in the hall, than they flocked around him and caressed him, as if some hidden power had instructed them that he was their grandsire. The old man returned their caresses and embraced them in silence; and they became so attached to him, that they refused to quit him and return to their tutor. Gianetta hearing of this, came out of her chamber, and threatened to punish the children if they did not obey their master. The children wept bitterly, and declared that they loved the good old man better than their tutor, which excited a smile in Gianetta and her lord. The old Count, not as the father of so noble a lady, but as a poor man, now rose to return thanks for his alms, and was scarcely able to suppress his joy at the sight of his daughter. She indeed retained no recollection of him — age, and want, and poverty had so altered him, so that, with his white head, and rough beard, and poor apparel, he stood before her as an entire stranger. Finding that the children would not leave the old man, but wept on his attempting to depart, the lady allowed them to remain with him a little time
65
longer. While they were thus playing with the aged Count, the father of Giachetto happened to return home, and being informed by their tutor of what had occurred, observed, as he held Gianetta in contempt, “The brats cannot conceal their origin: they are descended from beggars on their mother’s side, and it is no wonder that they show a predilection for beggars.” These words cut the poor old Count to the heart, but he suppressed his indignation and swallowed this reproach as he had done many thousands before. Giachetto had seen the mutual caresses of his children and the old man, and, though not approving of them, yet from his fond love to his children, rather than see them weep he ordered that the old man should be retained in his service if he were willing, and some employment given him. To this the Count replied that he should remain with pleasure, but that his only qualification was the care of horses, an occupation which he had followed all his life. On this a horse was given to his charge, which he attended to daily, and spent his leisure time in playing with the children. While fortune thus dealt with the Count of Angiers and his children, it happened that the king of France, after many truces with the Germans, died, and was succeeded by his son, whose wife had been the cause of all the Count’s misfortunes. The new king, when the truce terminated, renewed the war with great vigour, and his relation, the king of England, despatched a large force to his assistance, under the command of his marshal, Perotto, and of Giachetto Lamiens, the son of his other marshal, the latter of whom, the brave old Count, without being recognised, accompanied to the camp, where he rendered many services by his wise counsel. During this war the French queen fell dangerously ill, and being sensible of the approach of death, and desirous of showing contrition for her sins, she previously confessed herself to the Archbishop of Rouen, who was in high repute for his sanctity; and amongst other transgressions she related the grievous wrong the Count of Angiers had received from her, and she was not satisfied with narrating this to the Archbishop alone, but related all the circumstances in the presence of the nobility, entreating that the Count, if living, should be restored to his dignity and estates, and that if he were dead his son might succeed to his title and honours; and soon after this she breathed her last. When this confession was made known to the king, after deeply lamenting the injustice that he had done to the Count, he ordered proclamation to be made throughout the camp and in all parts of his kingdom, that whoever would give intelligence of the Count of Angiers or his children should be entitled to a reward of great value, at the same time declaring him innocent of the alleged crime of which he had been banished, as the queen had confessed, and announcing that he intended to invest him with his former, and even greater honours. When the Count in his humble station heard this, he went instantly to Giachetto and entreated him to accompany him to Perotto, in order to reveal to them the intelligence the king sought after. Being then all three assembled and alone, the Count said to Perotto, “Perotto, Giachetto, who stands here, is husband to your sister, and not having received any dowry with her save her virtue and honour, it is my intention that he
66
alone should receive the royal reward offered by the king. Know then that you are the son of this Count of Angiers, and that the wife of Giachetto is Violante, your sister, and that I am the Count of Angiers, your father.” Perotto on hearing this, and earnestly regarding the Count, immediately recognised him, and fell at his feet weeping. He then embraced him, saying, “Welcome a thousand times, my dear and long-lost father.” Giachetto, when he heard the Count’s communication, and saw Perotto kneel to his father, was surprised and overwhelmed with joy, but giving full faith to the Count’s relation, and reproaching himself for the injurious words his father had used to the Count, and recollecting his long humiliation, he threw himself at his feet, and humbly implored his pardon for his father’s indignities and his own neglect of him, which the Count courteously granted. After conversing some time on the strange chances of fortune, Perotto and Giachetto wished to clothe the Count in habiliments suitable to his rank, but this he would by no means consent to, but desired that Giachetto should first assure himself of the promised reward, and then present him to the king in his servant’s habit, in order to touch him with more sensible shame for his rash belief and condemnation. Giachetto, therefore, with the Count and with Perotto, went before the king, and offered to present to him the Count and his children, agreeably to the proclamation, on receiving the promised reward. The king instantly ordered the reward, which was of inestimable value, to be delivered to Giachetto, and desired it might be carried to his tent, and the Count and his children rendered in return. Giachetto then turning round and presenting the aged Count, who stood by him as his serving-man, with Perotto, said, “I here deliver to your majesty the father and the son; the daughter, who is my wife, but who is absent, shall ere long be also presented to you.” When the king heard this he steadfastly regarded the Count, and notwithstanding the lapse of years and the great change in his appearance, he recognised his features, and shedding abundance of tears, both of remorse and joy, he raised him up, as he was then kneeling, and kissed and embraced him, at the same time receiving Perotto in the most friendly manner. He then gave orders that the Count should be restored to his honours, and that apparel, servants, and horses, and other things answerable to his high estate, should be speedily provided for him. The king, moreover, showed great honour to Giachetto, and desired to be made acquainted with all their past fortunes. When Giachetto had received the royal reward for thus discovering the Count and his son, the Count calling to him, said, “Take that princely remuneration of the king, and commending me to your unkind father, tell him your children are no beggar’s brats, nor basely born by the mother’s side.” Giachetto returning home with his bountiful reward, soon after brought his wife and mother to Paris, as did Perotto his wife, where in great joy and congratulation they continued a long while with the noble Count, who had all his goods and honours restored to him, and fresh favours conferred on him. His sons-in-law then returned home with their wives to England, and left he Count with the king at Paris, where he spent the rest of his days in honour and happiness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
