Tancrede, _Prince of_ Salerne, _caused the amorous friend of hisdaughter to be slaine, and sent her his heart in a cup of Gold: whichafterward she steeped in an impoysoned water, and then drinking it sodyed._
The first Novell.
_Wherein is declared the power of Love, and their cruelty justlyreprehended, who imagine to make the vigour thereof cease, by abusingor killing one of the Lovers._
Our King (most Noble and vertuous Ladies) hath this day given us asubject, very rough and stearne to discourse on, and so much therather, if we consider, that we are come hither to be merry & pleasant,where sad Tragicall reports are no way suteable, especially, byreviving the teares of others, to bedew our owne cheekes withall. Norcan any such argument be spoken of, without moving compassion bothin the reporters, and hearers. But (perhaps) it was his highnessepleasure, to moderate the delights which we have already had. Orwhatsoever elsee hath provoked him thereto, seeing it is not lawfull formee, to alter or contradict his appointment; I will recount an accidentvery pittiful, or rather most unfortunate, and well worthy to beegraced with our teares.
_Tancrede_, Prince of _Salerne_ (which City, before the Consulles of_Rome_ held dominion in that part of _Italy_, stoode free, and thence(perchance) tooke the moderne title of a Principality) was a veryhumane Lord, and of ingenious nature; if, in his elder yeares, he hadnot soiled his hands in the blood of Lovers, especially one of them,being both neere and deere unto him. So it fortuned, that during thewhole life time of this Prince, he had but one onely daughter (albeitit had bene much better, if he had had none at all) whom he so choiselyloved and esteemed, as never was any childe more deerely affected of aFather: and so farre extended his over-curious respect of her, as hewould sildome admit her to be foorth of his sight; neither would hesuffer her to marry, although she had outstept (by divers yeares) theage meete for marriage. Neverthelesse, at length, he matched her withthe Sonne to the Duke of _Capua_, who lived no long while with her;but left her in a widdowed estate, and then shee returned home to herfather againe.
This Lady, had all the most absolute perfections, both of favour andfeature, as could be wished in any woman, yong, queintly disposed, andof admirable understanding, more (perhappes) then was requisite inso weake a bodie. Continuing thus in Court with the King her Father,who loved her beyond all his future hopes; like a Lady of great andglorious magnificence, she lived in all delights & pleasure. She wellperceiving, that her Father thus exceeding in his affection to her,had no mind at all of re-marrying her, and holding it most immodestin her, to solicite him with any such suite: concluded in her mindesprivate consultations, to make choise of some one especiall friend orfavourite (if Fortune would prove so furtherous to her) whom she mightacquaint secretly, with her sober, honest, and familiar purposes. HerFathers Court beeing much frequented, with plentifull accesse of braveGentlemen, and others of inferiour quality, as commonly the Courts ofKings & Princes are, whose carriage and demeanour she very heedfullyobserved. There was a yong Gentleman among all the rest, a servant toher Father, and named _Guiscardo_, a man not derived from any greatdescent by bloode, yet much more Noble by vertue and commendablebehaviour, then appeared in any of the other, none pleased her opinion,like as he did; so that by often noting his parts and perfections, heraffection being but a glowing sparke at the first, grewe like a Bavinto take flame, yet kept so closely as possibly she could; as Ladies arewarie enough in their love.
The yong Gentleman, though poore, being neither blocke nor dullard,perceived what he made no outward shew of, and understood himselfe sosufficiently, that holding it no meane happinesse to bee affected byher, he thought it very base and cowardly in him, if he should notexpresse the like to her againe. So loving mutually (yet secretly)in this manner, and shee coveting nothing more, then to have privateconference with him, yet not daring to trust anyone with so important amatter; at length she devised a new cunning stratageme, to compasse herlonging desire, and acquaint him with her private purpose, which provedto bee in this manner. Shee wrote a Letter, concerning what was thenext day to be done, for their secret meeting together; and conveyingit within the joynt of an hollow Cane, in jesting manner threw it to_Guiscardo_, saying; Let your man make use of this, insted of a paireof bellowes, when he meaneth to make fire in your chamber. _Guiscardo_taking up the Cane, and considering with himselfe, that neither wasit given, or the wordes thus spoken, but doubtlesse on some importantoccasion: went unto his lodging with the Cane, where viewing itrespectively, he found it to be cleft, and opening it with his knife,found there the written Letter enclosed.
After he had reade it, and well considered on the service thereinconcerned; he was the most joyfull man of the world, and began tocontrive his aptest meanes, for meeting with his gracious Mistresse,and according as she had given him direction. In a corner of the KingsPalace, it being seated on a rising hill, a cave had long beene madein the body of the same hill, which received no light into it, but bya small spiracle or vent-loope, made out ingeniously on the hills side.And because it hadde not in long time bene frequented, by the accesseof any body, that vent-light was over-growne with briars and bushes,which almost engirt it round about. No one could descend into thiscave or vault, but only by a secret paire of staires, answering to alower Chamber of the Palace, and very neere to the Princesses lodging,as beeing altogether at her command, by meanes of a strong barred anddefensible doore, whereby to mount or descend at her pleasure. And boththe cave it selfe, as also the degrees conducting downe into it, werenow so quite worne out of memory (in regard it had not bene visited byany one in long time before) as no man remembred that there was anysuch thing.
But Love, from whose bright discerning eies, nothing can be so closelyconcealed, but at the length it commeth to light: had made this amorousLady mindefull thereof, and because she would not bee discovered inher intention, many dayes together, her soule became perplexed; bywhat meanes that strong doore might best be opened, before shee couldcompasse to performe it. But after that she had found out the way, andgone downe her selfe alone into the cave; observing the loope-light,& had made it commodious for her purpose, shee gave knowledge thereofto _Guiscardo_, to have him devise an apt course for his descent,acquainting him truly with the height, and how farre it was distantfrom the ground within. After he had found the souspirall in thehills side, and given it a larger entrance for his safer passage; heprovided a Ladder of cords, with steppes sufficient for his descendingand ascending, as also a wearing sute made of leather, to keepe hisskinne unscratched of the thornes, and to avoide all suspition of hisresorting thither. In this manner went he to the saide loope-hole thenight following, and having fastened the one end of his corded ladder,to the strong stumpe of a tree being closely by it; by meanes of thesaide ladder, he descended downe into the cave, and there attended thecomming of his Lady.
She, on the morrow morning, pretending to her waiting woman, that shewas scarsly well, and therefore would not be diseased the most partof that day; commanded them to leave her alone in her Chamber, andnot to returne untill she called for them, locking the doore her selfefor better security. Then opened she the doore of the cave, and goingdowne the staires, found there her amorous friend _Guiscardo_, whom shesaluting with a chaste and modest kisse; caused him to ascend up thestayres with her into her chamber. This long desired, and now obtainedmeeting, caused the two deerely affecting Lovers, in kinde discourseof amorous argument (without incivill or rude demeanour) to spend therethe most part of that day, to their hearts joy and mutuall contentment.And having concluded on their often meeting there, in this cunning& concealed sort; _Guiscardo_ went downe into the cave againe, thePrincesse making the doore fast after him, and then went forth amongher Women. So in the night season, _Guiscardo_ ascended uppe againeby his Ladder of cords, and covering the loope-hole with brambles andbushes, returned (unseene of any) to his owne lodging: the cave beingafterward guilty of their often meeting there in this manner.
But Fortune, who hath alwayes bin a fatall enemy to lovers stolnefelicities
, became envious of their thus secret meeting, and overthrew(in an instant) all their poore happinesse, by an accident mostspightfull and malicious. The King had used divers dayes before, afterdinner time, to resort all alone to his daughters Chamber, thereconversing with her in most loving manner. One unhappy day amongst therest, when the Princesse, being named _Ghismonda_, was sporting in herprivat Garden among her Ladies, the King (at his wonted time) went tohis daughters Chamber, being neither heard or seene by any. Nor wouldhe have his daughter called from her pleasure, but finding the windowesfast shut, and the Curtaines close drawne about the bed; he sate downein a chaire behind it, and leaning his head upon the bed; his bodybeing covered with the curtaine, as if he hid himselfe purposely; heemused on so many matters, untill at last he fell fast asleepe.
It hath bin observed as an ancient Adage, that when disasters areordained to any one, commonly they prove to be inevitable, as poore_Ghismonda_ could witnesse too well. For, while the King thus slept,shee having (unluckily) appointed another meeting with _Guiscardo_,left hir Gentlewomen in the Garden, and stealing softly into herChamber, having made all fast and sure, for being descried by anyperson: opened the doore to _Guiscardo_, who stood there ready onthe staire-head, awaiting his entrance; and they sitting downe onthe bed side (according as they were wont to do) began their usuallkinde conference againe, with sighes and loving kisses mingled amongthem. It chanced that the King awaked, & both hearing and seeing thisfamiliarity of _Guiscardo_ with his Daughter, he became extreamlyconfounded with greefe thereat. Once he intended, to cry out for helpe,to have them both there apprehended; but he helde it a part of greaterwisedome, to sit silent still, and (if hee could) to keepe himselfeso closely concealed: to the end, that he might the more secretly,and with far less disgrace to himselfe, performe what hee had rashlyintended to do.
The poore discovered Lovers, having ended their amorous interparlance,without suspition of the Kings being so neer in person, or any else,to betray their over-confident trust; _Guiscardo_ descended againeinto the Cave, and she leaving the Chamber, returned to her women inthe Garden; all which _Tancrede_ too well observed, and in a raptureof fury, departed (unseene) into his owne lodging. The same night,about the houre of mens first sleepe, and according as he had givenorder; _Guiscardo_ was apprehended, even as he was comming forth of theloope-hole, & in his homely leather habite. Very closely was he broughtbefore the King, whose heart was swolne so great with greefe, as hardlywas hee able to speake: notwithstanding, at the last he began thus._Guiscardo_, the love & respect I have used towards thee, hath notdeserved the shameful wrong which thou hast requited me withall, and asI have seene with mine owne eyes this day. Whereto _Guiscardo_ couldanswer nothing elsee, but onely this: Alas my Lord! Love is able to domuch more, then either you, or I. Whereupon, _Tancrede_ commanded, thathe should bee secretly well guarded, in a neere adjoining Chamber, andon the next day, _Ghismonda_ having (as yet) heard nothing heereof, theKings braine being infinitely busied and troubled, after dinner, andas he often had used to do: he went to his daughters chamber, wherecalling for her, and shutting the doores closely to them, the tearestrickling downe his aged white beard, thus he spake to her.
_Ghismonda_, I was once grounded in a setled perswasion, that I truelyknew thy vertue, and honest integrity of life; and this beleefe couldnever have bene altred in mee, by any sinister reports whatsoever,had not mine eyes seene, and mine eares heard the contrary. Nor did Iso much as conceive a thought either of thine affection, or privateconversing with any man, but onely he that was to be thy husband.But now, I my selfe being able to avouch thy folly, imagine what anheart-breake this will be to me, so long as life remaineth in thispoore, weak, and aged body. Yet, if needs thou must have yeelded tothis wanton weakenesse, I would thou hadst made choise of a man,answerable to thy birth & Nobility: whereas on the contrary, amongso many worthy spirits as resort to my Court, thou likest best toconverse with that silly yong man _Guiscardo_, one of very meane andbase descent, and by mee (even for Gods sake) from his very youngestyeares, brought uppe to this instant in my Court; wherein thou hastgiven me much affliction of minde, and so overthrowne my senses, as Icannot wel imagine how I should deale with thee. For him, whom I havethis night caused to be surprized, even as he came forth of your closecontrived conveyance, and detaine as my prisoner, I have resolved howto proceed with him: but concerning thy selfe, mine oppressions areso many and violent, as I know not what to say of thee. One way, thouhast meerly murthered the unfeigned affection I bare thee, as never anyfather could expresse more to his child: and then againe, thou hastkindled a most just indignation in me, by thine immodest and wilfullfolly, and whereas Nature pleadeth pardon for the one, yet justicestandeth up against the other, and urgeth cruell severity against thee:neverthelesse, before I will determine upon any resolution, I comepurposely first to heare thee speake, and what thou canst say for thyselfe, in a bad case, so desperate and dangerous.
Having thus spoken, he hung downe the head in his bosome, weepingas abundantly, as if it had beene a childe severely disciplinde. Onthe other side, _Ghismonda_ hearing the speeches of her Father, andperceiving withall, that not onely her secret love was discovered, butalso _Guiscardo_ was in close prison, the matter which most of all didtorment her; shee fell into a very strange kinde of extasie, scorningteares, and entreating tearmes, such as feminine frailety are alwayesaptest unto: but rather, with height of courage, controling feare orservile basenesse, and declaring invincible fortitude in her verylookes, shee concluded with her selfe, rather then to urge any humbleperswasions, shee would lay her life downe at the stake. For plainelyshee perceived, that _Guiscardo_ already was a dead man in Law, anddeath was likewise as welcome to her, rather then the deprivation ofher Love; and therefore, not like a weeping woman, or as checkt by theoffence committed, but carelesse of any harme happening to her: stoutlyand couragiously, not a teare appearing in her eye, or her soule anyway to be perturbed, thus shee spake to her Father.
_Tancrede_, to denie what I have done, or to entreate any favour fromyou, is now no part of my disposition: for as the one can little availeme, so shall not the other any way advantage me. Moreover, I covetnot, that you should extend any clemency or kindnesse to me, but bymy voluntary confession of the truth; doe intend (first of all) todefend mine honour, with reasons sound, good, and substantiall, andthen vertuously pursue to full effect, the greatnesse of my minde andconstant resolution. True it is, that I have loved, and still doe,honourable _Guiscardo_, purposing the like so long as I shall live,which will be but a small while: but if it bee possible to continuethe same affection after death, it is for ever vowed to him onely. Nordid mine owne womanish weaknesse so much thereto induce me, as thematchlesse vertues shining cleerely in _Guiscardo_, and the littlerespect you had of marrying me againe. Why royall Father, you cannot beignorant, that you being composed of flesh and blood, have begotten aDaughter of the selfe same composition, and not made of stone or yron.Moreover, you ought to remember (although now you are farre stept inyeeres) what the Lawes of youth are, and with what difficulty they areto be contradicted. Considering withall, that albeit (during the vigourof your best time) you evermore were exercised in Armes; yet you shouldlikewise understand, that negligence and idle delights, have mightypower, not onely in yong people, but also in them of greatest yeeres.
I being then made of flesh and blood, and so derived from your selfe;having had also so little benefit of life, that I am yet in the spring,and blooming time of my blood: by either of these reasons, I must needsbe subject to naturall desires, wherein such knowledge as I have oncealready had, in the estate of my marriage, perhaps might move a furtherintelligence of the like delights, according to the better ability ofstrength, which exceeding all capacity of resistance, induced a secondmotive to affection, answerable to my time and youthful desires, andso (like a yong woman) I became amorous againe; yet did I strive,even with all my utmost might, and best vertuous faculties abiding inme, no way to disgrace either you or my selfe, as (in equall censure)ye
t I have not done. But Nature is above all humane power, and Love,commanded by Nature, hath prevailed for Love, joyning with Fortune: inmeere pity and commiseration of my extreme wrong, I found them bothmost benigne and gracious, teaching me a way secret enough, whereby Imight reach the height of my desires, howsoever you became instructed,or (perhaps) found it out by accident; so it was, and I denie it not.
Nor did I make election of _Guiscardo_ by chance, or rashly, as manywomen doe, but by deliberate counsell in my soule, and most matureadvise; I chose him above all other, and having his honest harmelesseconversation, mutually we enjoyed our hearts contentment. Now itappeareth, that I having not offended but by love; in imitation ofvulgar opinion, rather then truth: you seeke to reprove me bitterly,alleaging no other maine argument for your anger, but onely my notchoosing a gentleman, or one more worthy. Wherein it is most evident,that you doe not so much checke my fault, as the ordination of Fortune;who many times advanceth men of meanest esteeme, and abaseth themof greater merit. But leaving this discourse, let us looke into theoriginall of things, wherein wee are first to observe, that from onemasse or lumpe of flesh, both we, and all other received our flesh, andone Creator hath created all things; yea, all creatures, equally intheir forces and faculties, and equall likewise in their vertue: whichvertue was the first that made distinction of our birth and equality,in regard, that such as had the most liberall portion thereof, andperformed actions thereto answerable, were thereby termed noble, allthe rest remaining unnoble: now although contrary use did afterward hideand conceale this Law, yet was it not therefore banished from Nature orgood manners. In which respect, whosoever did execute all his actionsby vertue, declared himselfe openly to be noble; and he that tearmedhim otherwise, it was an error in the miscaller, and not in the personso wrongfully called; as the very same priviledge is yet in full forceamong us at this day.
Cast an heedfull eye then (good Father) upon all your Gentlemen, andadvisedly examine their vertues, conditions and manner of behaviour. Onthe other side, observe those parts remaining in _Guiscardo_: and then,if you will judge truly, and without affection, you will confesse himto be most noble, and that all your Gentlemen (in respect of him) arebut base Groomes and villaines. His vertues and excelling perfections,I never credited from the report or judgement of any person; but onelyby your speeches, and mine owne eyes as true witnesses. Who did evermore commend _Guiscardo_, extolling all those singularities in him,most requisite to be in an honest vertuous man; then you your selfehave done? Nor neede you to be sorry, or ashamed of your good opinionconcerning him; for, if mine eyes have not deceived my judgement, younever gave him the least part of praise, but I have knowne much morein him, then ever your words were able to expresse: wherefore, if Ihave beene any way deceived, truly the deceit proceeded onely fromyou. How will you then maintaine, that I have throwne my liking on aman of base condition? In troth (Sir) you cannot. Perhaps you willalleadge, that he is meane and poore; I confesse it, and surely it isto your shame, that you have not bestowne place of more preferment, ona man so honest and well deserving, and having beene so long a timeyour servant. Neverthelesse, poverty impaireth not any part of nobleNature, but wealth hurries it into horrible confusions. Many Kings andgreat Princes have heretofore beene poore, when divers of them thathave delved into the Earth, and kept Flockes in the Feld, have beeneadvanced to riches, and exceeded the other in wealth.
Now, as concerning your last doubt, which most of all afflicteth you,namely, how you shall deale with me; boldly rid your braine of any suchdisturbance, for if you have resolved now in your extremity of yeeres,to doe that which your younger dayes evermore despised, I meane, tobecome cruell; use your utmost cruelty against me, for I will neverentreate you to the contrary, because I am the sole occasion of thisoffence, if it doe deserve the name of an offence. And this I dareassure you, that if you deale not with me, as you have done already, orintend to _Guiscardo_, mine owne hands shall act as much: and thereforegive over your teares to women, and if you purpose to be cruel, let himand me in death drinke both of one cup, at least, if you imagine thatwe have deserved it.
The King knew well enough the high spirit of his Daughter, but yet(neverthelesse) he did not beleeve, that her words would prove actions,or shee doe as shee saide. And therefore parting from her, and withoutintent of using any cruelty to her; concluded, by quenching the heateof another, to coole the fiery rage of her distemper, commanding twoof his followers (who had the custody of _Guiscardo_) that without anyrumour or noyse at all, they should strangle him the night ensuing,and taking the heart forth of his body, to bring it to him, whichthey performed according to their charge. On the next day, the Kingcalled for a goodly standing Cup of Gold, wherein he put the heart of_Guiscardo_, sending it by one of his most familiar servants to hisDaughter, with command also to use these words to her. Thy Father hathsent thee this present, to comfort thee with that thing which most ofall thou affectest, even as thou hast comforted him with that which hemost hated.
_Ghismonda_, nothing altered from her cruell deliberation, after herFather was departed from her, caused certaine poysonous rootes & hearbsto be brought her, which shee (by distillation) made a water of, todrinke suddenly, whensoever any crosse accident should come from herFather; whereupon, when the messenger from her Father had delivered herthe present, and uttered the words as he was commanded: shee tooke theCup, and looking into it with a setled countenance, by sight of theheart, and effect of the message, shee knew certainely, that it was theheart of _Guiscardo_; then looking stearnely on the servant, thus shespake unto him. My honest friend, it is no more then right and justice,that so worthy a heart as this is, should have any worser grave thengold, wherein my Father hath dealt most wisely. So, lifting the heartup to her mouth; and sweetly kissing it, shee proceeded thus. In allthings, even till this instant, (being the utmost period of my life)I have evermore found my Fathers love most effectuall to me; but nowit appeareth farre greater, then at any time heretofore: and thereforefrom my mouth, thou must deliver him the latest thankes that ever Ishall give him, for sending me such an honourable present.
These words being ended, holding the Cup fast in her hand, and lookingseriously upon the heart, shee began againe in this manner. Thou sweeteentertainer of all my dearest delights, accursed be his cruelty, thatcauseth me thus to see thee with my corporall eyes, it being sufficientenough for me, alwayes to behold thee with the sight of my soule.Thou hast runne thy race, and as Fortune ordained, so are thy dayesfinished: for as all flesh hath an ending; so hast thou concluded,albeit too soone, and before thy due time. The travailes and miseriesof this World, have now no more to meddle with thee, and thy veryheaviest enemy, hath bestowed such a grave on thee, as thy greatnessein vertue worthily deserveth; now nothing elsee is wanting, wherewithto beautifie thy Funerall, but onely her sighes & teares, that was sodeare unto thee in thy life time. And because thou mightest the morefreely enjoy them, see how my mercilesse Father (on his owne meeremotion) hath sent thee to me; and truly I will bestow them franklyon thee, though once I had resolved, to die with drie eyes, and notshedding one teare, dreadlesse of their utmost malice towards me.
And when I have given thee the due oblation of my teares, my soule,which sometime thou hast kept most carefully, shall come to make asweete conjunction with thine: for in what company elsee can I travailemore contentedly, and to those unfrequented silent shades, but onely inthine? As yet I am sure it is present here, in this Cup sent me by myFather, as having a provident respect to the place, for possession ofour equall and mutuall pleasures; because thy soule affecting mine sotruely, cannot walke alone, without his deare companion.
Having thus finished her complaint, even as if her head had beenconverted into a well-spring of water, so did teares abundantly flowfrom her faire eyes, kissing the heart of _Guiscardo_ infinite times.All which while, her women standing by her, neither knew what heartit was, nor to what effect her speeches tended: but being moved tocompassionate teares, they often demanded (albeit in vaine) theoccasion o
f her sad complaining, comforting her to their utmost power.When shee was not able to weepe any longer, wiping her eyes, andlifting up her head, without any signe of the least dismay, thus sheespake to the heart. Deare heart, all my duty is performed to thee, andnothing now remaineth uneffected; but onely breathing my last, to letmy ghost accompany thine.
Then calling for the glasse of water, which shee had readily preparedthe day before, and powring it upon the heart lying in the Cup,couragiously advancing it to her mouth, shee dranke it up every drop;which being done, shee lay downe upon her bed, holding her Lovers heartfast in her hand, and laying it so neere to her owne as she could. Nowalthough her women knew not what water it was, yet when they had seeneher to quaffe it off in that manner, they sent word to the King, whomuch suspecting what had happened, went in all haste to his Daughterschamber, entring at the very instant, when shee was laide upon her bed;beholding her in such passionate pangs, with teares streaming downe hisreverend beard, he used many kinde words to comfort her, when boldlythus shee spake unto him. Father (quoth she) well may you spare theseteares, because they are unfitting for you, and not any way desiredby me; who but your selfe, hath seene any man to mourne for his ownewilfull offence. Neverthelesse, if but the least jot of that love doeyet abide in you, whereof you have made such liberall profession to me;let me obtaine this my very last request, to wit, that seeing I mightnot privately enjoy the benefit of _Guiscardoes_ love, and while helived; let yet (in death) one publike grave containe both our bodies,that death may affoord us, what you so cruelly in life denied us.
Extremity of griefe and sorrow, with-held his tongue from returningany answer, and shee perceiving her end approaching, held the heartstill closed to her owne bare brest, saying; Here Fortune, receivetwo true hearts latest oblation, for, in this manner are we commingto thee. So closing her eyes, all sense forsooke her, life leavingher body breathlesse. Thus ended the haplesse love of _Guiscardo_,and _Ghismonda_, for whose sad disaster, when the King had mournedsufficiently, and repented fruitlessly; he caused both their bodiesto be honourably embalmed, and buried in a most royall Monument, notwithout generall sorrow of the subjects of _Salerne_.