Arriguccio Berlinghieri, _became immeasurably jelous of his Wife_Simonida, _who fastened a thred about her great toe, for to serve as asignall, when her amorous friend should come to visite her._ Arriguccio_findeth the fallacie, and while he pursueth the amorous friend, sheecauseth her Maide to lye in her bed against his returne: whom hebeateth extreamly, cutting away the lockes of her haire (thinking hehad doone all this violence to his wife_ Simonida:) _and afterwardfetcheth her Mother & Brethren, to shame her before them, and so berid of her. But they finding all his speeches to be utterly false; andreputing him to bee a drunken jealous foole; all the blame and disgracefalleth on himselfe._
The Eight Novell.
_Whereby appeareth, that an Husband ought to be very well advised, whenhe meaneth to discover any wrong offered his wife; except hee himselfedo rashly run into all the shame and reproach._
It seemed to the whole assembly, that Madam _Beatrix_, dealte somewhatstrangely, in the manner of beguiling her husband; and affirmed also,that _Anichino_ had great cause of fear, when she held him so stronglyby her beds side, and related all his amorous temptation. But when theKing perceyved, that Madame _Philomena_ sate silent, he turned to Madam_Neiphila_, willing her to supply the next place; who modestly smiling,thus began.
Faire Ladies, it were an heavy burthen imposed on me, and a mattermuch surmounting my capacity, if I should vainely imagine, to contentyou with so pleasing a Novell, as those have already done, by you sosingularly reported: neverthelesse, I must discharge my dutie, and takemy fortune as it fals, albeit I hope to finde you mercifull.
You are to know then, that sometime there lived in our Citie, avery welthy Merchant, named _Arriguccio Berlinghieri_, who (as manyMerchants have done) fondly imagined, to make himselfe a Gentleman bymarriage. Which that he might the more assuredly do, he took to wifea Gentlewoman, one much above his degree or element, she being named_Simonida_. Now, in regard that he delighted (as it is the usuall lifeof a Merchant) to be often abroad, and little at home, whereby sheehad small benefit of his company; shee grew very forward in affectionwith a young Gentleman, called Signior _Roberto_, who had solicitedhir by many amorous meanes, and (at length) prevailed to win herfavor. Which favour being once obtained; affection gaddes so farrebeyond al discretion, and makes Lovers so heedelesse of their privateconversations: that either they are taken tardy in their folly, or elsesubjected to scandalous suspition.
It came to passe, that _Arriguccio_, either by rumour, or some othermore sensible apprehension, had received such intelligence concerninghis Wife _Simonida_, as he grew into extraordinarie jealousie ofher, refraining travaile abroad, as formerly he was wont to doe, andceassing from his verie ordinary affayres, addicting all his careand endeavour, onely to be watchfull of his Wife; so that he neverdurst sleepe, untill she were by him in the bed, which was no meanemolestation to her, being thus curbd from her familiar meetings with_Roberto_. Neverthelesse, having a long while consulted with herwittes, to find some apte meanes for conversing with him, being theretoalso very earnestlie still solicited by him; you shall heare whatcourse she undertooke.
Her Chamber being on the streete side, and somewhat juttying over it,she observed the disposition of her Husband, that every night it waslong before he fell asleepe: but beeing once falne into it, no noysewhatsoever, could easily wake him. This his solemne and sound sleeping,emboldned her so farre, as to meete with _Roberto_ at the streetedoore, which (while her Husband slept) softly she would open to him,and there in private converse with him.
But, because shee would know the certaine houre of his comming, withoutthe least suspition of any: she hung a thred forth of her ChamberWindow, descending downe, within the compasse of _Robertoes_ reachin the street, and the other end thereof, guided from the Window tothe bed, being conveyed under the cloathes, and shee being in bed,she fastned it about her left great Toe, wherewith _Roberto_ wassufficiently acquainted, and thus enstructed withall; that at hiscomming, he should plucke the thred, & if her husband was in his deadsleep, she would let go the thred, and come downe to him: but if heslept not, she would hold it strongly, and then his tarrying wouldprove but in vaine; there could be no meeting that night.
This devise was highly pleasing both to _Roberto_ and _Simonida_, beingthe intelligencer of their often meeting, and many times also advisingthe contrary. But in the end, as the quaintest cunning may faile at onetime or another; so it fortuned one night, that _Simonida_ being in asound sleepe, and _Arriguccio_ waking, because his drowsie houre wasnot as yet come: as he extended forth his legge in the bed, he foundthe thred, which feeling in his hand, and perceiving it was tyed to hiswives great toe; it prooved apt tinder to kindle further Jealousie,and now hee suspected some treachery indeede, and so much the ratherbecause the thred guided (under the cloathes) from the bed to thewindow, and there hanging downe into the streete, as a warning to somefurther businesse.
Now was _Arriguccio_ so furiously enflamed, that hee must needes beefurther resolved in this apparant doubt: and because therein hee wouldnot be deceived, softly he cut the thred from his wives toe, and madeit fast about his owne; to trye what successe would ensue thereon. Itwas not long before _Roberto_ came, and according as hee used to doe,hee pluckt the thred, which _Arriguccio_ felt, but because hee hadnot tyed it fast, and _Roberto_ pulling it over-hardly, it fell downefrom the window into his hand, which he understood as his lesson, toattend her comming, and so hee did. _Arriguccio_ stealing softly outof bed from his wife, and taking his Sword under his arme, went downeto the doore, to see who it was, with full intent of further revenge.Now, albeit he was a Merchant, yet he wanted not courage, and boldnesseof spirit, and opening the doore without any noyse, onely as his wifewas wont to doe: _Roberto_, there waiting his entrance, perceived bythe doores unfashionable opening, that it was not _Simonida_, but herHusband, whereupon he betooke himselfe to flight, and _Arriguccio_fiercely followed him. At the length, _Roberto_ perceiving that flightavayled him not, because his enemy still pursued him: being armed alsowith a Sword, as _Arriguccio_ was; he returned backe upon him, the oneoffering to offend, as the other stood upon his defence, and so in thedarke they fought together.
_Simonida_ awaking, even when her Husband went foorth of the Chamber,and finding the thred to be cut from her toe; conjectured immediately,that her subtle cunning was discovered, and supposing her Husband inpursuite of _Roberto_, presently she arose; and, considering whatwas likely to ensue thereon, called her Chamber-maide (who was notignorant in the businesse) and by perswasions prevailed so with her,that she lay downe in her place in the bed, upon solemne protestationsand liberall promises, not to make her selfe knowne, but to suffer allpatiently, either blowes, or other ill usage of her Husband, whichshee would recompence in such bountifull sort, as she should have nooccasion to complaine. So, putting out the watch-light, which everynight burned in the Chamber, she departed thence, and sate downe ina close corner of the house, to see what would be the end of all thisstirre, after her Husbands comming home.
The fight (as you have formerly heard) continuing betweene _Roberto_and _Arriguccio_, the neighbours hearing of the clashing of theirSwords in the streets; arose out of their beds, and reproved them invery harsh manner. In which respect _Arriguccio_, fearing to be knowne,and ignorant also what his adversary was (no harme being as yet doneon either side) permitted him to depart; and extreamely full of anger,returned backe againe to his house. Being come up into his bed-chamber,Thus he began; Where is this lewde and wicked woman? what? hast thouput out the light, because I should not finde thee? that shall notavayle thee, for I can well enough finde a drab in the darke. So,groping on to the beds side, and thinking hee had taken hold on hiswife, he grasped the Chamber-maide, so beating her with his fists, andspurning her with his feet, that all her face was bloody & bruised.Next, with his knife he cut off a great deal of her haire: giving herthe most villanous speeches as could be devised: swearing, that hewould make her a shame to all the world.
You need make no doubt, but the poore maide w
ept exceedingly, as shehad good occasion to doe: and albeit many times she desired mercy,and that hee would not bee so cruell to her: yet notwithstanding, hervoyce was so broken with crying, and his impacience so extreame, thatrage hindered all power of distinguishing, or knowing his wives tonguefrom a strangers. Having thus madly beaten her, and cut the lockes offfrom her head, thus he spake to her. Wicked woman, and no wife of mine,be sure I have not done with thee yet; for, although I meane not nowto beate thee any longer: I will goe to thy brethren, and they shallunderstand thy dishonest behaviour. Then will I bring them home withme, and they perceiving how much thou hast abused both their honourand thine owne; let them deale with thee as they finde occasion, forthou art no more a companion for me. No sooner had he uttered theseangry words, but hee went forth of the Chamber, bolting it fast on theoutward side, as meaning to keepe her safely inclosed, & out of thehouse he went alone by himselfe.
_Simonida_, who had heard all this tempestuous conflict, perceivingthat her Husband had lockt the streete doore after him, and wasgone whether he pleased: unbolted the Chamber doore, lighted a waxecandle, and went in to see her poore maide, whom she found to be mostpittifully misused. She comforted her as well as she could, brought herinto her owne lodging Chamber, where washing her face and hurts in verysoveraigne waters, and rewarding her liberally with _Arriguccioes_ owneGold; she held her selfe to bee sufficiently satisfyed. So, leaving themaide in her lodging, and returning againe to her owne Chamber: shemade up the bed in such former manner, as if no body had lodged thereinthat night. Then hanging up her Lampe fresh fild with oyle, and clearlylighted, she deckt her selfe in so decent sort, as if she had bin in nobed all that night.
Then taking sowing worke in her hand, either shirts or bands of herHusbands; hanging the Lampe by her, and sitting downe at the stayreshead, she fell to worke in very serious manner, as if shee hadundertaken some imposed taske.
On the other side, _Arriguccio_ had travelled so farre from hishouse, till he came at last to the dwelling of _Simonidaes_ brethren:where hee knockt so soundly, that he was quickely heard, and (almostas speedily) let in. _Simonidaes_ brethren, and her mother also,hearing of _Arriguccioes_ comming thither so late. Rose from theirbeds, and each of them having a Waxe Candle lighted came presently tohim, to understand the cause of this his so unseasonable visitation._Arriguccio_, beginning at the originall of the matter, the thred foundtyed about his wives great toe, the fight and houshold conflict afterfollowing: related every circumstance to them. And for the betterproofe of his words, he shewed them the thred it selfe, the lockessupposed of his wives haire, and adding withall; that they might nowdispose of _Simonida_ as themselves pleased, because she should remaineno longer in his house.
The brethren to _Simonida_ were exceedingly offended at this relation,in regard they beleeved it for truth, and in this fury, commandedTorches to be lighted, preparing to part thence with _Arriguccio_ hometo his house, for the more sharpe reprehension of their Sister. Whichwhen their mother saw, she followed them weeping, first entreatingone, and then the other, not to be over rash in crediting such aslander, but rather to consider the truth thereof advisedly: becausethe Husband might be angry with his Wife upon some other occasion,and having outraged her, made this the meanes in excuse of himselfe.Morever she said, that she could not chuse but wonder greatly, how thismatter should thus come to passe; because she had good knowledge ofher daughter, during the whole course of her education, faultlesse andblamelesse in every degree; with many other good words of her beside,as proceeding from naturall affection of a mother.
Being come to the house of _Arriguccio_, entring in, and ascending upthe stayres: they heard _Simonida_ sweetly singing at her working; butpausing, upon hearing their rude trampling, shee demaunded, who wasthere. One of the angry brethren presently answered: Lewde woman asthou art, thou shalt know soone enough who is heere: Our blessed Ladybe with us (quoth _Simonida_) and sweet Saint Frances helpe to defendme, who dare use such unseemely speeches? Starting up and meeting themon the staire head: Kinde brethren, (said she) is it you? What, andmy loving mother too? For sweet Saint Charities sake, what may be thereason of your comming hither in this manner. Shee being set downeagaine to her worke, so neatly apparelled, without any signe of outrageoffered her, her face unblemished, her haire comely ordered, anddiffering wholly from the former speeches of her Husband: the Brethrenmarvelled thereat not a little; and asswaging somewhat the impetuoustorrent of their rage; began to demaund in coole blood, (as it were)from what ground her Husbands complaints proceeded, and threatning herroughly, if she would not confesse the truth intirely to them.
Ave Maria (quoth _Simonida_, crossing her selfe) Alas deare Brethren,I know not what you say, or meane, nor wherein my Husband should beeoffended, or make any complaint at all of me. _Arriguccio_ hearingthis, looked on her like a man that had lost his Senses: for well heremembred, how many cruell blowes he had given her on the face, besidescratches of his nailes, and spurnes of his feet, as also the cuttingof her haire, the the least shew of all which misusage, was not nowto be seene. Her brethren likewise briefly told her, the whole effectof her Husbands speeches, shewing her the thred, and in what cruellmanner he sware hee did beate her. _Simonida_, turning then to herHusband, and seeming as confounded with amazement, said. How is thisHusband? what doe I heare? would you have me supposed (to your owneshame and disgrace) to be a bad woman, and your selfe a cruell curstman, when (on either side) there is no such matter? When were you thisnight heere in the house with mee? Or when should you beate mee, and Inot feele nor know it. Beleeve me (sweete heart) all these are meerelymiracles to me.
Now was _Arriguccio_ ten times more mad in his minde, then before,saying. Divell, and no woman, did wee not this night goe both togetherto bed? Did not I cut this thred from thy great toe, tyed it to mine,and found the craftie compact betweene thee and thy Minnion? Did notI follow and fight with him in the streets? Came I not backe againe,and beate thee as a Strumpet should be? And are not these the locks ofhaire, which I my selfe did cut from thy head?
Alas Sir (quoth she) where have you been? doe you know what you say?you did not lodge in this house this night, neither did I see you allthe whole day and night, till now.
But leaving this, and come to the matter now in question, because Ihave no other testimony then mine owne words. You say, that you didbeate me, and cut those lockes of haire from my head. Alas Sir, whyshould you slander your selfe? In all your life time you did neverstrike me. And to approve the truth of my speeches, doe you your selfe,and all else heere present, looke on me advisedly, if any signe of blowor beating is to be seene on me. Nor were it an easie matter for youto doe either to smite, or so much as lay your hand (in anger) on me,it would cost dearer then you thinke for. And whereas you say, thatyou did cut those lockes of haire from my head; it is more then eitherI know, or felt, nor are they in colour like to mine: but, because myMother and brethren shall be my witnesses therein, and whether you didit without my knowledge; you shall all see, if they be cut, or no. So,taking off her head attyre, she displayed her hayre over her shoulders,which had suffered no violence, neither seemed to bee so much asuncivilly or rudely handled.
When the mother and brethren saw this, they began to murmure against_Arriguccio_, saying, What thinke you of this Sir? you tell us ofstrange matters which you have done, and all proving false, we wonderhow you can make good the rest. _Arriguccio_ looked wilde, andconfusedly, striving still to maintaine his accusation: but seeingevery thing to bee flatly against him, he durst not attempt to speakeone word. _Simonida_ tooke advantage of this distraction in him, andturning to her brethren, saide. I see now the marke whereat he aymeth,to make me doe what I never meante: Namely, that I should acquaint youwith his vile qualities, and what a wretched life I leade with him,which seeing hee will needes have me to reveale; beare with me if I doeit upon compulsion.
Mother and Brethren, I am verily perswaded, that those accidents whichhe disclosed to you, hath doubtlesse (in the same manner) happened tohim, and
you shall heare how. Very true it is, that this seeming honestman, to whom (in a lucklesse houre) you married me, stileth himselfeby the name of a Merchant, coveting to be so accounted and credited,as holy in outward appearance, as a Religious Monke, and as demure inlookes, as the modestest Maide: like a notorious common drunkard, is aTaverne hunter, where making his luxurius matches, one while with oneWhore, then againe with another; hee causeth mee every night to sittarrying for him, even in the same sort as you found me: sometimes tillmidnight, and otherwhiles till broad day light in the morning.
And questionlesse, being in his wounted drunken humour, hee hath lyenwith one of his sweet Consorts, about whose toe he found the thred, andfinding her as false to him, as he hath alwayes been to me: Did notonely beat her, but also cut the haire from her head. And having notyet recovered his sences, is verily perswaded, and cannot be alteredfrom it; but that hee performed all this villany to me. And if you doebut advisedly observe his countenance, he appeareth yet to be more thenhalfe drunke.
But whatsoever he hath said concerning me, I make no account at allthereof, because he spake it in his drunkennesse, and as freely as Iforgive him, even so (good Mother and kinde Brethren) let mee entreateyou to do the like.
When the Mother had heard these words, and confidently beleeved herDaughter: she began to torment her selfe with anger, saying. By thefaith of my body Daughter, this unkindnesse is not be endured, butrather let the dogge be hanged, that his qualities may be knowne, hebeing utterly unworthy, to have so good a woman to his wife, as thouart. What could he have done more, if he had taken thee in the openstreete, and in company of some wanton Gallants? In an unfortunatehoure wast thou married to him, base jealous Coxecombe as he is, and itis quite against sense, or reason, that thou shouldest be subject tohis fooleries. What was hee, but a Merchant of Eale-skinnes or Orenges;bred in some paltry countrey village; taken from Hogge-rubbing; clothedin Sheepes-Sattin, with Clownish Startops, Leather stockings, andCaddies garters: His whole habite not worth three shillings: And yet hemust have a faire Gentlewoman to his Wife, of honest fame, riches andreputation; when, comparing his pedegree with hers, hee is farre unfitto wipe her shooes.
Oh my deare Sonnes, I would you had followed my counsell, and permittedher to match in the honourable family of _Count Guido_, which was muchmooved, and seriously pursued. But you would needs bestow her on thisgoodly Jewell; who, although shee is one of the choysest beautiesin Florence, chaste, honest and truely vertuous: Is not ashamed atmidnight, to proclaime her for a common whore, as if we had no betterknowledge of her. But by the blessed mother of Saint _John_, if youwould be ruled by mine advise; our law should make him dearely smartfor it.
Alas my sonnes, did I not tell you at home in our owne house, that hiswords were no way likely to prove true? Have not your eyes observed hisunmannerly behaviour to your Sister? If I were as you are, hearing whathe hath said, and noting his drunken carriage beside; I should nevergive over, as long as he had any life left in him. And were I a man,as I am a woman; none other then my selfe should revenge her wrongs,making him a publike spectacle to all drabbing drunkards.
When the brethren had heard and observed all these occurrences; inmost bitter manner they railed on _Arriguccio_, bestowing some goodbastinadoes on him beside, concluding thus with him in the end. Quothone of them, Wee will pardon this shamefull abusing of our Sister,because thou art a notorious drunkard: but looke to it (on perill ofthy life) that we have no more such newes hereafter; for, beleeve itunfainedly, if any such impudent rumours happen to our eares, or somuch as a flying fame thereof; thou shalt surely be paide for bothfaults together.
So home againe went they, and _Arriguccio_ stood like one that hadneither life or motion, not knowing (whether what he had done) wastrue, or no, or if he dreamed all this while, and so (without utteringany word) he left his Wife, and went quietly to bed. Thus by herwisdome, she did not onely prevent an imminent perill: but also made afree and open passage, to further contentment with her amourous friend,yet dreadlesse of any distaste or suspition in her Husband.