And so the two boys and their nurse, badly clothed and worse shod, continued for many years in Messer Guasparrino’s house, patiently performing all the most menial tasks it is possible to imagine. But Giannotto was made of sterner stuff than slaves are made of, and by the time he was sixteen the baseness of a servile existence had become so repugnant to him that he abandoned Messer Guasparrino’s household and enlisted as a seaman on galleys plying between Genoa and Alexandria, after which he travelled far and wide without however finding a single opportunity for advancement.
Finally, when he had almost lost hope of a change of fortune, his wanderings led him to Lunigiana, where he chanced to enter the service of Currado Malespina, whom he attended, to the latter’s no small satisfaction, with considerable efficiency. It was now some three or four years since his departure from Messer Guasparrino’s and he had grown into a well-built, handsome young man. He had meanwhile heard that his father, whom he had supposed to be dead, was still alive, but languishing under heavy guard in one of King Charles’s dungeons. And whilst he occasionally saw his mother, who was in attendance on Currado’s lady, he never recognized her, nor she him, for they had both changed a great deal in the period that had elapsed since they had last seen one another.
Now, whilst Giannotto was in Currado’s service, it happened that a daughter of Currado’s, whose name was Spina, was left a widow by a certain Niccolò da Grignano, and returned to her father’s house. Being a beautiful and very graceful girl of little more than sixteen, she began to take an interest in Giannotto, and he in her, with the result that they fell madly in love with one another. Their love was soon consummated, and since it continued for several months undetected, they became excessively confident and were less cautious than they should have been. And one day, while out walking in a fine, thickly wooded forest, Giannotto and the girl, forging on ahead of their companions, came to a delectable spot all covered with grass and flowers and surrounded by trees, and, thinking they had left the others far behind, they began to make love.
So great was their enjoyment that they lost all track of time, and they had been together for ages when the girl’s mother arrived on the scene, to be followed a moment later by Currado. Dismayed beyond measure by what he saw,7 he ordered three of his servants, without giving any reasons, to seize the pair of them, bind them, and march them off to one of his castles. Then he stalked away, seething with distress and anger, and intent on having them ignominiously put to death.
The girl’s mother was extremely upset, and regarded no punishment as too severe for her daughter’s lapse. But she could not stand passively aside and allow them to suffer the kind of fate which, on piecing together certain of Currado’s remarks, she realized he was intending to inflict on the culprits. So she hurried to catch up with her irate husband, and began pleading with him not to ruin his old age by killing his own daughter in a sudden fit of frenzy and soiling his hands with the blood of one of his servants. He could, she insisted, find some other way of placating his anger, such as having them incarcerated, so that, as they languished in prison, they would have a chance of repenting in full for their sinful behaviour. The saintly woman pressed these views and many others upon him with so much urgency, that she dissuaded him from killing them. And he ordered each of them to be imprisoned in different places, where they were to be closely guarded, receive a minimum of food, and suffer the maximum of discomfort, until such time as he decided otherwise. These instructions were promptly carried out, and I leave you to imagine the sort of life they led in their captivity, weeping incessantly and almost starving to death.
Now, when Giannotto and Spina had been languishing in these wretched conditions for more than twelve months, and Currado had dismissed them from his thoughts, it came about that King Peter of Aragon, with the aid of a subversive movement led by Messer Gian di Procida, stirred up a rebellion in Sicily8 and wrested the island from King Charles. Currado, being a Ghibelline, was overjoyed at the news, and when Giannotto heard about it from one of his gaolers, he heaved a deep sigh, and said:
‘Oh, alas! for fourteen long years I have travelled the world in continual hardship, waiting only for this to happen! And now that it has come about, just to prove the vanity of all my hopes, I find myself here in this prison-cell, without the slightest prospect of being released until the day I die.’
‘What are you talking about?’ said the gaoler. ‘Surely the affairs of mighty monarchs are no concern of yours? What was your business in Sicily?’
‘It almost breaks my heart,’ replied Giannotto, ‘when I recall the business of my father. For although I was still a small boy when I fled from the island, yet I remember seeing him as its governor, when King Manfred was alive.’
‘And who was this father of yours?’ asked the gaoler.
‘My father’s name,’ said Giannotto, ‘can now be safely revealed, since I no longer have anything to fear from its disclosure. He was called (and if he is still alive he is still called) Arrighetto Capece, and my own name is not Giannotto but Giusfredi. Furthermore, I have not the slightest doubt that if I were a free man, I could return to Sicily and occupy, even now, a position of the highest importance.’
The good man asked no more questions, but at the first opportunity he referred the whole matter to Currado. And although, as he listened, Currado put on a show of indifference for the gaoler’s benefit, he went straight to Madonna Beritola and asked her in a pleasant manner whether she and Arrighetto had ever had a son called Giusfredi. Bursting into tears the woman replied that if the older of her two sons was still alive, this indeed would be his name, and that he would now be twenty-two years old.
On hearing this, Currado concluded that the young man must be telling the truth, and it occurred to him that, in this case, he was in a position to perform an act of clemency that would repair both his own and his daughter’s honour, namely to offer her to him in marriage. He therefore arranged a secret interview with Giannotto, in the course of which he interrogated him in detail on the whole of his past life. And having confirmed beyond any doubt that he was indeed Giusfredi, the son of Arrighetto Capece, he said:
‘Giannotto, you are aware how great an injury you have done to me in the person of my own daughter. I treated you as a friend, and it was your duty as my servant never to do anything that would undermine my honour, or that of my family. Many another man, in my place, would have had you ignominiously put to death, but I could not bring myself to do such a thing. Now, since what you say is true, and you are a man of gentle birth, I desire with your consent to put an end to your suffering and release you from your wretched, captive existence, at the same time restoring both your own reputation and mine. As you are aware, my daughter Spina, for whom you formed so loving but improper an attachment, is a widow, and she has a good, large dowry. You are acquainted with her ways, and with her father and mother; of your own present condition, I say nothing. Therefore, if you are agreeable, I am willing to convert a dishonourable friendship into an honourable marriage, and allow you to live with her here in my house for as long as you wish to remain, as though you were my own son.’
Giannotto’s fine physique had been wasted away by his imprisonment, but the innate nobility of his spirit was in no way impaired, and he still loved his lady as wholeheartedly as ever. So that, although he found himself in the other man’s power, and wished for nothing better than what Currado was proposing, he had not the slightest hesitation in following the promptings of his noble heart.
‘Currado,’ he replied, ‘neither the lust for power nor the desire for riches nor any other motive has ever led me to harbour treacherous designs against your person or property. I loved your daughter, I love her still, and I shall always love her, because I consider her a worthy object of my love. And if, in wooing her, I was acting in a manner that would commonly be regarded as dishonourable, the fault I committed was one which is inseparable from youth. In order to eradicate it, one would have to do away with youth altogether. Besides, i
t would not be considered half so serious as you and many others maintain, if old men would remember that they were once young, and if they would measure other people’s shortcomings against their own and vice versa. I committed this fault, not as your enemy, but as your friend. It has always been my wish to do what you are now proposing, and if I had thought your consent would be forthcoming, I would have asked you long ago for your daughter’s hand. Coming at this moment, when my expectations were at such a low ebb, your consent is all the more gratifying to me. But if your intentions do not match your words, please do not feed me with vain hopes. Send me back to my prison-cell and have me treated as cruelly as you like. Whatever you do to me, I shall always love Spina, and for her sake I shall always love and respect her father.’
Currado listened in amazement to Giannotto’s words, which convinced him of both his courage and the warmth of his love, increasing his esteem for the young man. He therefore rose to his feet, embraced and kissed him, and gave orders without further ado for Spina to be brought there in secret.
She had turned all pale, thin and weak in prison, and like Giannotto, she almost seemed another person as, in Currado’s presence and by mutual consent, they took the marriage vows according to our custom.
A few days later, having kept the whole matter secret and provided them with everything they could possibly need or desire, he decided it was time to break the glad tidings to their respective mothers, and summoning his lady and Cavriuola, he turned to the latter and said:
‘What would you say, my lady, if I were to arrange for your elder son to be restored to you, as the husband of one of my daughters?’
‘The only thing I could say,’ replied Cavriuola, ‘would be that if it were possible for me to be more obliged to you than I am already, then inasmuch as you would be giving me something I value more than my own life, my debt would be correspondingly large. And by restoring him to me in the way you describe, you would in some measure be rekindling my lost hopes.’
She then stopped and burst into tears, and Currado turned to his lady, saying:
‘And what would you say, my dear, if I were to present you with such a son-in-law?’
‘If it were pleasing to you,’ the lady replied, ‘I would not object to a vagrant for a son-in-law, let alone a man who is of noble birth.’
‘Within a few days,’ said Currado, ‘I hope to have good news for you both.’
Meanwhile, the two young people were gradually putting flesh on their bones, and when Currado saw that they had quite recovered, he had them dressed in fine clothes, and turned to Giusfredi, saying:
‘Would it not add greatly to your happiness to see your mother in this place?’
‘My mother suffered such appalling misfortunes,’ replied Giusfredi, ‘that I cannot believe she has survived them. But if she has, I would be very glad indeed to see her, for with her advice I believe I could largely repair my fortunes in Sicily.’
Currado then summoned the two ladies, and they both smothered the new bride with affection, at the same time wondering what had happened to soften Currado’s heart to the extent of uniting her in wedlock with Giannotto.
With Currado’s words fresh in her memory, Madonna Beritola had meanwhile begun to stare intently at the young man. Suddenly, some occult force stirred within her, causing her to recollect the boyish features of her son’s face. And without awaiting further proof of his identity, she rushed towards him and flung her arms about his neck. Her feelings of maternal joy and affection were so intense that she was unable to utter a word: on the contrary, she lost all the power of her five senses and collapsed in the arms of her son as though she were dead. Giannotto, for his part, was filled with amazement, for he could remember having seen her on many previous occasions in that same castle without ever having recognized her. Nevertheless, he now knew instinctively that she was his mother, and, bursting into tears and reproaching himself for his former indifference, he received her in his arms and kissed her with tenderness. Shortly afterwards, with the loving assistance of Spina and Currado’s lady, who applied cold water and other remedies, Madonna Beritola recovered her senses and embraced her son all over again, weeping copiously and uttering a stream of gentle endearments. And, giving vent to her maternal affection, she kissed him a thousand times or more whilst he held her in his arms and gazed at her in awe and reverence.
When the chaste and joyful greetings had been repeated three or four times9 to the no small pleasure and approval of the onlookers, and mother and son had exchanged the story of their adventures, Giusfredi turned to Currado, who, having already informed his friends about the marriage and received their delighted approval, had given orders for a sumptuous and splendid banquet, and he said:
‘Currado, you have bestowed many favours upon me and you have long sheltered my mother under your roof. But so that we may use your good offices to the full, I now want to ask you to gladden my mother, my wedding-feast and myself by sending for my brother. As I have told you already, he and I were seized by pirates acting for Messer Guasparrino d’Oria, who is detaining him in his house in the role of a servant. And I would also like you to send somebody to Sicily who can bring us a clear picture of conditions there, and tell us whether my father, Arrighetto, is alive or dead, and whether, if he is alive, he is in good health.’
Giusfredi’s request was well received by Currado, who immediately sent experienced couriers to Genoa and Sicily. The one who went to Genoa called on Messer Guasparrino and earnestly entreated him on Currado’s behalf to send him The Outcast and his nurse, giving him a concise account of what Currado had done for Giusfredi and his mother.
‘It is true,’ said Messer Guasparrino, who was greatly astonished by this tale, ‘that I would do anything in my power to please Currado. And for the past fourteen years, the boy you mention, and his mother, have certainly been under my roof. I will gladly send them to him, but you are to warn him from me not to pay too much attention to the tall stories of Giannotto, who now masquerades, if I understand you aright, under the name of Giusfredi. That young man is much more cunning than Currado seems to realize.’
He said no more, but having attended to the good man’s lodging he secretly sent for the nurse and questioned her closely on the subject. She had already heard about the rebellion in Sicily, and on learning that Arrighetto was alive, she abandoned her former fear and told him the whole story, explaining her reasons for the action she had taken.
On finding that the nurse’s account corresponded exactly with that of Currado’s emissary, Messer Guasparrino began to take her story seriously. Being a very astute man, he took various steps to have it thoroughly checked, becoming more and more convinced of its veracity with every scrap of new evidence he discovered. Ashamed at having treated the boy so contemptuously, he made amends by bestowing a wife on him in the person of his pretty little eleven-year-old daughter, together with a huge dowry, for he was well aware of Arrighetto’s past and present fame. After celebrating the event in great style, he embarked, along with the youth, his daughter, Currado’s emissary, and the nurse, on a well-armed galliot, and sailed for Lerici,10 where he was met by Currado. Then, with the whole of his company, he proceeded to one of Currado’s castles, not very far from there, where the great wedding-feast was about to be held.
The general rejoicing, whether that of the mother on seeing her son again, or that of the two brothers, or that with which all three greeted the faithful nurse, or that displayed by everyone towards Messer Guasparrino and his daughter and vice versa, or that of the whole company in the presence of Currado, his lady, his children and his friends, would be impossible to describe in words. And thus I leave it, ladies, to your imagination. But to crown it all, the Lord God, whose generosity knows no bounds once it is set in motion, arranged things so that news should arrive that Arrighetto was alive and in good health.
For amid the great rejoicing, when the guests, men and women, were still seated round the tables, having proceeded no further than the
first course, Currado’s other emissary returned from Sicily. Amongst other things, he narrated how Arrighetto had been held prisoner in Catania on the orders of King Charles, and how, after the country’s insurrection against the King, the people had stormed the prison, killing his gaolers and setting him free. Since he was King Charles’s bitterest opponent, they had then elected him their leader and joined him in pursuing and killing the French. For this reason, he had achieved a high reputation in the eyes of King Peter, who had reinstated him in all his possessions and titles. And so he now enjoyed a position of great honour and authority.
The messenger added that Arrighetto had welcomed him very warmly, being overjoyed beyond description to hear about his wife and son, of whom he had received no news since the time of his capture. He was in fact sending a brigantine with some gentlemen aboard, to come and fetch them, and they were due to arrive at any moment.
The envoy’s announcement was greeted with prolonged cheering and rejoicing, and Currado promptly went out with some of his friends to meet the gentlemen who were coming to fetch Madonna Beritola and Giusfredi; and after giving them a hearty welcome, he took them in to his banquet, less than half of which had so far been served.
Such was the delight of Beritola, Giusfredi and all the others on seeing them that they almost raised the roof with their greeting. But before sitting down to eat, the Sicilians conveyed Arrighetto’s warmest greeting and deepest thanks to Currado and his lady for the hospitality they had offered to his wife and son, and pledged his readiness to assist them in any way within his power. They then turned to Messer Guasparrino, whose courteous action had taken them by surprise, and said they were quite certain that when Arrighetto came to know of the generous settlement he had made on The Outcast he would be just as grateful to him as he was to Currado, or possibly even more. Then without further ado, they turned with great gusto to the business of feasting the two brides and their respective bridegrooms.