Novel VII
Novel VII
[Voice: emilia]
[001] Tedaldo, being in disfavour with his lady, departs from Florence. He returns thither after a while in the guise of a pilgrim, has speech of his lady, and makes her sensible of her fault. Her husband, convicted of slaying him, he delivers from peril of death, reconciles him with his brothers, and thereafter discreetly enjoys his lady.
[002] So ceased Fiammetta; and, when all had bestowed on her their meed of praise, the queen--to lose no time--forthwith bade Emilia resume the narration. So thus Emilia began:
[003] I am minded to return to our city, whence my two last predecessors saw fit to depart, and to shew you how one of our citizens recovered the lady he had lost.
[004]
Know then that there was in
Florence a young noble, his name Tedaldo Elisei, who being beyond
measure enamoured of a lady hight Monna Ermellina, wife of one
Aldobrandino Palermini, and by reason of his admirable qualities
richly deserving to have his desire,
[005]
found Fortune nevertheless adverse,
as she is wont to be to the prosperous. Inasmuch as, for some reason
or another, the lady, having shewn herself gracious towards Tedaldo
for a while, completely altered her mien, and not only shewed him no
further favour, but would not so much as receive a message from him
or suffer him to see her face; whereby he fell a prey to a grievous
and distressful melancholy; but so well had he concealed his love
that the cause of his melancholy was surmised by none.
[006]
He tried
hard in divers ways to recover the love which he deemed himself to
have lost for no fault of his, and finding all his efforts unavailing, he
resolved to bid the world adieu, that he might not afford her
who was the cause of his distress the satisfaction of seeing him
languish. So he got together as much money as he might, and
secretly, no word said to friend or kinsman except only a familiar
gossip, who knew all, he took his departure for Ancona. Arrived
there, he assumed the name of Filippo Santodeccio, and having
forgathered with a rich merchant, entered his service. The merchant
took him with him to Cyprus aboard one of his ships,
[007]
and was so well
pleased with his bearing and behaviour that he not only gave him a
handsome salary but made him in a sort his companion, and entrusted
him with the management of no small part of his affairs: wherein he
proved himself so apt and assiduous, that in the course of a few years
he was himself established in credit and wealth and great repute as a
merchant. Seven years thus passed, during which, albeit his thoughts
frequently reverted to his cruel mistress, and sorely love smote him,
and much he yearned to see her again, yet such was his firmness that
he came off conqueror,
[008]
until one day in Cyprus it so befell that
there was sung in his hearing a song that he had himself composed,
and of which the theme was the mutual love that was between his
lady and him, and the delight that he had of her; which as he heard,
he found it incredible that she should have forgotten him, and burned
with such a desire to see her once more, that, being able to hold out
no longer, he made up his mind to return to Florence.
[009]
So, having
set all his affairs in order, he betook him, attended only by a single
servant, to Ancona; whence he sent all his effects, as they arrived,
forward to Florence, consigning them to a friend of his Ancontan
partner, and followed with his servant in the disguise of a pilgrim
returned from the Holy Sepulchre. Arrived at Florence, he put
up at a little hostelry kept by two brothers hard by his lady's house,
[010]
whither he forthwith hied him, hoping that, perchance, he might
have sight of her from the street; but, finding all barred and
bolted, doors, windows and all else, he doubted much, she must be
dead, or have removed thence. So, with a very heavy heart, he
returned to the house of the two brothers, and to his great surprise
found his own four brothers standing in front of it, all in black. He
knew that he was so changed from his former semblance, both in dress
and in person, that he might not readily be recognized, and he had
therefore no hesitation in going up to a shoemaker and asking him
why these men were all dressed in black.
[011]
The shoemaker answered:
'Tis because 'tis not fifteen days since a brother of theirs, Tedaldo
by name, that had been long abroad, was slain; and I understand
that they have proved in court that one Aldobrandino Palermini,
who is under arrest, did the deed, because Tedaldo, who loved his
wife, was come back to Florence incognito to forgather with her.
[012]
Tedaldo found it passing strange that there should be any one so
like him as to be mistaken for him, and deplored Aldobrandino's evil
plight. He had learned, however, that the lady was alive and well.
So, as 'twas now night, he hied him, much perplexed in mind, into
the inn, and supped with his servant. The bedroom assigned him
was almost at the top of the house,
[013]
and the bed was none of the
best. Thoughts many and disquieting haunted his mind, and his
supper had been but light. Whereby it befell that midnight came and
went, and Tedaldo was still awake. As thus he watched, he heard
shortly after midnight, a noise as of persons descending from the roof
into the house, and then through the chinks of the door of his room
he caught the flicker of an ascending light.
[014]
Wherefore he stole
softly to the door, and peeping through a chink to make out what
was afoot, he saw a very fine young woman bearing a light, and three
men making towards her, being evidently those that had descended
from the roof. The men exchanged friendly greetings with the
young woman, and then one said to her:
[015]
Now, God be praised,
we may make our minds easy, for we are well assured that judgment
for the death of Tedaldo Elisei is gotten by his brothers against
Aldobrandino Palermini, and he has confessed, and the sentence is
already drawn up; but still it behoves us to hold our peace; for,
should it ever get abroad that we were guilty, we shall stand in the
like jeopardy as Aldobrandino.
So saying, they took leave of the
woman, who seemed much cheered, and went to bed.
[016]
What he
had heard set Tedaldo musing on the number and variety of the
errors to which men are liable: as, first, how his brothers had
mourned and interred a stranger in his stead, and then charged an
innocent man upon false suspicion, and by false witness brought him
into imminent peril of death: from which he passed to ponder the
blind severity of laws and magistrates, who from misguided zeal to
elicit the truth not unfrequently become ruthless, and, adjudging that
which is false, forfeit the title which they claim of ministers of
God and justice, and do but execute the mandates of iniquity and
the Evil One. And so he came at last to consider the possibility
of saving Aldobrandino, and formed a plan for the purpose.
[017]
Accordingly,
on the morrow, when he was risen, he left his servant at the
inn, and hied him alone, at what he deemed a convenient time, to
his lady's house, where, finding, by chance, the door open, he entered,
and saw his lady sitting, all tears and lamentations, in a little parlour
on the ground-floor. Whereat he all but wept for sympathy; and
drawing near her, he said:
Madam, be not troubled in spirit: your peace is nigh you.
[018]
Whereupon the lady raised her head, and said
between her sobs:
Good man, what dost thou, a pilgrim, if I
mistake not, from distant parts, know either of my peace or of my
affliction?
[019]
Madam,
returned the pilgrim,
I am of Constantinople,
and am but now come hither, at God's behest, that I may give
you laughter for tears, and deliver your husband from death.
[020]
But,
said the lady,
if thou art of Constantinople, and but now arrived,
how is 't that thou knowest either who my husband is, or who I
am?
[021]
Whereupon the pilgrim gave her the whole narrative, from
the very beginning, of Aldobrandino's sufferings; he also told her,
who she was, how long she had been married, and much besides that
was known to him of her affairs: whereat the lady was lost in
wonder, and, taking him to be a prophet, threw herself on her knees
at his feet, and besought him for God's sake, if he were come to save
Aldobrandino, to lose no time, for the matter brooked no delay.
[022]
Thus
adjured, the pilgrim assumed an air of great sanctity, as he said:
Arise, Madam, weep not, but hearken diligently to what I shall
say to you, and look to it that you impart it to none. I have it by
revelation of God that the tribulation wherein you stand is come
upon you in requital of a sin which you did once commit, of which
God is minded that this suffering be a partial purgation, and that you
make reparation in full, if you would not find yourself in a far
more grievous plight.
[023]
Sir,
replied the lady,
many sins have I
committed, nor know I how among them all to single out that
whereof, more than another, God requires reparation at my hands:
wherefore, if you know it, tell it me, and what by way of reparation
I may do, that will I do.
[024]
Madam,
returned the pilgrim,
well
wot I what it is, nor shall I question you thereof for my better
instruction, but that the rehearsal may give you increase of remorse
therefor. But pass we now to fact. Tell me, mind you ever to
have had a lover?
[025]
Whereat the lady heaved a deep sigh; then,
marvelling not a little, for she had thought 'twas known to none,
albeit on the day when the man was slain, who was afterwards buried
as Tedaldo, there had been some buzz about it, occasioned by some
indiscreet words dropped by Tedaldo's gossip and confidant, she made
answer:
[026]
I see that there is nought that men keep secret but God
reveals it to you; wherefore I shall not endeavour to hide my secrets
from you. True it is that in my youth I was beyond measure
enamoured of the unfortunate young man whose death is imputed to
my husband; whom I mourned with grief unfeigned, for, albeit I
shewed myself harsh and cruel towards him before his departure, yet
neither thereby, nor by his long absence, nor yet by his calamitous
death was my heart estranged from him.
[027]
Then said the pilgrim:
'Twas not the unfortunate young man now dead that you did love,
but Tedaldo Elisei. But let that pass; now tell me: wherefore lost
he your good graces? Did he ever offend you?
[028]
Nay verily,
answered the lady,
he never offended me at all. My harshness was
prompted by an accursed friar, to whom I once confessed, and who,
when I told him of the love I bore Tedaldo, and my intimacy with
him, made my ears so tingle and sing that I still shudder to think of
it, warning me that, if I gave it not up, I should fall into the jaws of
the Devil in the abyss of hell, and be cast into the avenging fire.
[029]
Whereby I was so terrified that I quite made my mind up to discontinue
my intimacy with him, and, to trench the matter, I would
thenceforth have none of his letters or messages; and so, I suppose,
he went away in despair, though I doubt not, had he persevered a
while longer, I should not have seen him wasting away like snow in
sunshine without relenting of my harsh resolve; for in sooth there
was nothing in the world I would so gladly have done.
[030]
Then said
the pilgrim:
Madam, 'tis this sin, and this only, that has brought
upon you your present tribulation. I know positively that Tedaldo
did never put force upon you: 'twas of your own free will, and for
that he pleased you, that you became enamoured of him: your
constant visitor, your intimate friend he became, because you yourself
would have it so; and in the course of your intimacy you shewed
him such favour by word and deed that, if he loved you first, you
multiplied his love full a thousandfold.
[031]
And if so it was, and well
yourself from him? You should have considered the whole matter
before the die was cast, and not have entered upon it, if you deemed
you might have cause to repent you of it as a sin. As soon as he
became yours, you became his.
[032]
Had he not been yours, you might
have acted as you had thought fit, at your own unfettered discretion;
but, as you were his, 'twas robbery, 'twas conduct most disgraceful,
to sever yourself from him against his will.
[033]
Now you must know
that I am a friar; and therefore all the ways of friars are familiar to
me; nor does it misbecome me, as it might another, to speak for
your behoof somewhat freely of them; as I am minded to do that
you may have better understanding of them in the future than you
would seem to have had in the past.
[034]
Time was when the friars were
most holy and worthy men, but those who to-day take the name and
claim the reputation of friars have nought of the friar save only the
habit: nay, they have not even that: for, whereas their founders
ordained that their habits should be strait, of a sorry sort, and of
coarse stuff, apt symbols of a soul that in arraying the body in so mean
a garb did despite to all things temporal, our modern friars will have
them full, and double, and resplendent, and of the finest stuff, and of
a fashion goodly and pontifical, wherein without shame they flaunt it
like peacocks in the church, in the piazza, even as do the laity in their
robes.
[035]
And as the fisherman casts his net into the stream with
intent to take many fish at one throw: so 'tis the main solicitude and
study, art and craft of these friars to embrace and entangle within
the ample folds of their vast swelling skirts beguines, widows and
other foolish women, ay, and men likewise in great number. Wherefore,
to speak with more exactitude, the friars of to-day have nought
of the habit of the friar save only the colour thereof.
[036]
And, whereas
the friars of old time sought to win men to their salvation, those of
to-day seek to win their women and their wealth; wherefore they
have made it and make it their sole concern by declamation and
imagery to strike terror into the souls of fools, and to make believe
that sins are purged by alms and masses; to the end that they, base
wretches that have fled to friarage not to ensue holiness but to escape
hardship, may receive from this man bread, from that man wine, and
from the other man a donation for masses for the souls of his dead.
[037]
True indeed it is that sins are purged by almsgiving and prayer; but,
did they who give the alms know, did they but understand to whom
or throw them to so many pigs. And, knowing that the fewer be
they that share great riches, the greater their ease, 'tis the study of
each how best by declamation and intimidation to oust others from
that whereof he would fain be the sole owner.
[038]
They censure lust in
men, that, they turning therefrom, the sole use of their women may
remain to the censors: they condemn usury and unlawful gains,
that, being entrusted with the restitution thereof, they may be able
to enlarge their habits, and to purchase bishoprics and other great
preferments with the very money which they have made believe must
bring its possessor to perdition.
[039]
And when they are taxed with these
and many other discreditable practices, they deem that there is no
censure, however grave, of which they may not be quit by their glib
formula: 'Follow our precepts, not our practice:' as if'twere possible
that the sheep should be of a more austere and rigid virtue than the
shepherds. And how many of these, whom they put off with this
formula, understand it not in the way in which they enunciate it, not
a few of them know.
[040]
The friars of to-day would have you follow
their precepts, that is to say, they would have you fill their purses
with coin, confide to them your secrets, practise continence, be
long-suffering,
forgive those that trespass against you, keep yourselves from
evil speaking; all which things are good, seemly, holy. But to what
end? To the end that they may be able to do that which, if the
laity do it, they will not be able to do.
[041]
Who knows not that idleness
cannot subsist without money? Spend thy money on thy pleasures,
and the friar will not be able to live in sloth in his order. Go after
women, and there will be no place for the friar. Be not long-suffering,
pardon not the wrong-doer, and the friar will not dare to
cross thy threshold to corrupt thy family. But wherefore pursue I
the topic through every detail?
[042]
They accuse themselves as often
as they so excuse themselves in the hearing of all that have understanding.
Why seclude they not themselves, if they misdoubt
their power to lead continent and holy lives? Or if they must
needs not live as recluses, why follow they not that other holy
text of the Gospel: Christ began to do and to teach?
Evangelio
in a large sense for the whole of the New
Testament.
[055]
Thus ended the pilgrim; and the lady, who had followed him
with the closest attention, deeming all that he advanced very sound,
and doubting not that her tribulation was, as he said, in requital of her
sin, spoke thus:
[056]
Friend of God, well I wot that the matters
which you discourse are true, and, thanks to your delineation, I now
in great measure know what manner of men are the friars, whom
I have hitherto regarded as all alike holy; nor doubt I that great
was my fault in the course which I pursued towards Tedaldo; and
gladly, were it in my power, would I make reparation in the manner
which you have indicated. But how is this feasible? Tedaldo can
never return to us. He is dead. Wherefore I know not why I
must needs give you a promise which cannot be performed.
[057]
Madam,
returned the pilgrim,
'tis revealed to me by God
that Tedaldo is by no means dead, but alive and well and happy,
so only he enjoyed your favour.
[058]
Nay, but,
said the lady,
speak
advisedly; I saw his body done to death by more than one knife-wound;
I folded it in these arms, and drenched the dead face with
many a tear; whereby, perchance, I gave occasion for the bruit that
has been made to my disadvantage.
[059]
Say what you may, Madam,
rejoined the pilgrim,
I assure you that Tedaldo lives, and if you will
but give the promise, then, for its fulfilment, I have good hope that
you will soon see him.
[060]
Whereupon:
I give the promise,
said the lady,
and right gladly will I make it good; nor is there
aught that might happen that would yield me such delight as to see
my husband free and scatheless, and Tedaldo alive.
[061]
Tedaldo now
deemed it wise to make himself known, and establish the lady in a
more sure hope of her husband's safety. Wherefore he said:
Madam, to set your mind at ease in regard of your husband, I
must first impart to you a secret, which be mindful to disclose to
none so long as you live.
[062]
Then--for such was the confidence
which the lady reposed in the pilgrim's apparent sanctity that they
were by themselves in a place remote from observation--Tedaldo
drew forth a ring which he had guarded with the most jealous care,
since it had been given him by the lady on the last night when they
were together, and said, as he shewed it to her:
Madam, know
you this?
[063]
The lady recognized it forthwith, and answered:
I
do, Sir; I gave it long ago to Tedaldo.
[064]
Then the pilgrim, rising
and throwing off his sclavine
And know you me?
[065]
The lady recognizing forthwith
the form and semblance of Tedaldo, was struck dumb with wonder
and fear as of a corpse that is seen to go about as if alive, and was
much rather disposed to turn and flee from Tedaldo returned from
the tomb than to come forward and welcome Tedaldo arrived from
Cyprus.
[066]
But when Tedaldo said to her:
Fear not, Madam, your
Tedaldo am I, alive and well, nor was I ever dead, whatever you
and my brothers may think,
[067]
the lady, partly awed, partly reassured
by his voice, regarded him with rather more attention, and inly
affirming that 'twas in very truth Tedaldo, threw herself upon his
neck, and wept, and kissed him, saying:
Sweet my Tedaldo,
welcome home.
[068]
Madam,
replied Tedaldo after he had kissed
and embraced her,
time serves not now for greetings more intimate.
'Tis for me to be up and doing, that Aldobrandino may be restored
to you safe and sound; touching which matter you will, I trust,
before to-morrow at even hear tidings that will gladden your heart;
indeed I expect to have good news to-night, and, if so, will come
and tell it you, when I shall be less straitened than I am at present.
[069]
He then resumed his sclavine and that, and having kissed the lady
again, and bade her be of good cheer, took his leave, and hied him to
the prison, where Aldobrandino lay more occupied with apprehension
of imminent death than hope of deliverance to come. As ministrant
of consolation, he gained ready admittance of the warders, and, seating
himself by Aldobrandino's side, he said:
[070]
Aldobrandino, in me
thou seest a friend sent thee by God, who is touched with pity of
thee by reason of thy innocence; wherefore, if in reverent submission
to Him thou wilt grant me a slight favour that I shall ask of thee,
without fail, before to-morrow at even, thou shalt, in lieu of the
doom of death that thou awaitest, hear thy acquittal pronounced.
[071]
Worthy man,
replied Aldobrandino,
I know thee not, nor mind
I ever to have seen thee; wherefore, as thou shewest thyself solicitous
for my safety, my friend indeed thou must needs be, even as thou
sayst. And in sooth the crime, for which they say I ought to be
doomed to death, I never committed, though others enough I have
committed, which perchance have brought me to this extremity.
However, if so be that God has now pity on me, this I tell thee
in reverent submission to Him, that, whereas 'tis but a little thing
that thou cravest of me, there is nought, however great, but I would
not only promise but gladly do it; wherefore, even ask what thou
wilt, and, if so be that I escape, I will without fail keep my word to
the letter.
[072]
Nay,
returned the pilgrim,
I ask but this of thee,
that thou pardon Tedaldo's four brothers, that in the belief that thou
wast guilty of their brother's death they brought thee to this strait, and,
so they ask thy forgiveness, account them as thy brothers and friends.
[073]
How sweet,
replied Aldobrandino,
is the savour, how ardent the
desire, of vengeance, none knows but he that is wronged; but yet, so
God may take thought for my deliverance, I will gladly pardon, nay,
I do now pardon them, and if I go hence alive and free, I will thenceforth
have them in such regard as shall content thee.
[074]
Satisfied with
this answer, the pilgrim, without further parley, heartily exhorted
Aldobrandino to be of good cheer; assuring him that, before the next
day was done, he should be certified beyond all manner of doubt of
his deliverance;
[075]
and so he left him.
On quitting the prison the pilgrim hied him forthwith to the
signory, and being closeted with a knight that was in charge, thus
spoke:
My lord, 'tis the duty of all, and most especially of those
who hold your place, zealously to bestir themselves that the truth be
brought to light, in order as well that those bear not the penalty
who have not committed the crime, as that the guilty be punished.
And that this may come to pass to your honour and the undoing
of the delinquent, I am come hither to you.
[076]
You wot that you
have dealt rigorously with Aldobrandino Palermini, and have found,
as you think, that 'twas he that slew Tedaldo Elisei, and you are
about to condemn him; wherein you are most certainly in error, as
I doubt not before midnight to prove to you, delivering the murderers
into your hands.
[077]
The worthy knight, who was not without pity
for Aldobrandino, readily gave ear to the pilgrim's words. He
conversed at large with him, and availing himself of his guidance,
made an easy capture of the two brothers that kept the inn and their
servant in their first sleep. He was about to put them the torture, to
elicit the true state of the case, when, their courage failing, they
confessed without the least reserve, severally at first, and then jointly,
that 'twas they that had slain Tedaldo Elisei, not knowing who he
was. Asked for why, they answered that 'twas because he had
sorely harassed the wife of one of them, and would have constrained
her to do his pleasure, while they were out of doors.
[078]
Whereof the
pilgrim was no sooner apprised, than by leave of the knight he withdrew,
and hied him privily to the house of Madonna Ermellina, whom
(the rest of the household being gone to bed) he found awaiting him
alone, and equally anxious for good news of her husband and a
complete reconciliation with her Tedaldo. On entering, he blithely
exclaimed:
Rejoice, dearest my lady, for thou mayst rest assured
that to-morrow thou shalt have thy Aldobrandino back here safe and
sound;
and to confirm her faith in his words, he told her all that
he had done.
[079]
Greater joy was never woman's than hers of two such
glad surprises; to wit, to have Tedaldo with her alive again, whom
she had wailed for verily dead, and to know Aldobrandino, whom she
had thought in no long time to wail for dead, now out of jeopardy.
Wherefore, when she had affectionately embraced and kissed her
Tedaldo, they hied them to bed together, and with hearty goodwill
made gracious and gladsome consummation of their peace by
interchange of sweet solace.
[080] With the approach of day Tedaldo rose, and having first apprised the lady of his purpose and enjoined her, as before, to keep it most secret, resumed his pilgrim's habit, and sallied forth of her house, to be ready, as occasion should serve, to act in Aldobrandino's interest. [081] As soon as 'twas day, the signory, deeming themselves amply conversant with the affair, set Aldobrandino at large; and a few days later they caused the malefactors to be beheaded in the place where they had done the murder.
[082]
Great was Aldobrandino's joy to find himself free, nor less great
was that of his lady and all his friends and kinsfolk; and as 'twas
through the pilgrim that it had come about, they brought him to
their house, there to reside as long as he cared to tarry in the city;
nor could they do him honour and cheer enough, and most of all the
lady, who knew her man.
[083]
But after a while, seeing that his brothers
were not only become a common laughing-stock by reason of Aldobrandino's
acquittal, but had armed themselves for very fear, he felt
that their reconciliation with him brooked no delay, and accordingly
craved of him performance of his promise.
[084]
Aldobrandino replied
handsomely that it should be had at once. The pilgrim then bade
him arrange for the following day a grand banquet, at which he and his
kinsfolk and their ladies were to entertain the four brothers and their
ladies, adding that he would himself go forthwith as Aldobrandino's
envoy, and bid them welcome to his peace and banquet.
[085]
All which
being approved by Aldobrandino, the pilgrim hied him with all speed
to the four brothers, whom by ample, apt and unanswerable argument
he readily induced to reinstate themselves in Aldobrandino's friendship
by suing for his forgiveness: which done, he bade them and their
ladies to breakfast with Aldobrandino on the morrow, and they, being
assured of his good faith, were consenting to come.
[086]
So, on the
morrow, at the breakfast hour, Tedaldo's four brothers, still wearing
their black, came with certain of their friends to Aldobrandino's house,
where he awaited them; and, in presence of the company that had
been bidden to meet them, laid down their arms, and made surrender
to Aldobrandino, asking his pardon of that which they had done
against him.
[087]
Aldobrandino received them compassionately, wept,
kissed each on the mouth, and let few words suffice to remit each
offence. After them came their sisters and their wives, all habited
sadly, and were graciously received by Madonna Ermellina and the
other ladies.
[088]
The guests, men and women alike, found all things
ordered at the banquet with magnificence, nor aught unmeet for
commendation save the restraint which the yet recent grief, betokened
by the sombre garb of Tedaldo's kinsfolk, laid upon speech (wherein
some had found matter to except against the banquet and the pilgrim
for devising it, as he well knew), but, as he had premeditated, in due
time, he stood up, the others being occupied with their dessert, and
spoke thus:
[089]
Nothing is wanting to complete the gaiety of this
banquet except the presence of Tedaldo; whom, as you have been
long time with him and have not known him, I will point out to
you.
[090]
So, having divested himself of his sclavine and whatever else
in his garb denoted the pilgrim, he remained habited in a tunic of
green taffeta, in which guise, so great was the wonder with which all
regarded him that, though they recognized him, 'twas long before
any dared to believe that 'twas actually Tedaldo.
[091]
Marking their
surprise, Tedaldo told them not a little about themselves, their family
connexions, their recent history, and his own adventures. Whereat
his brothers and the rest of the men, all weeping for joy, hasted to
embrace him, followed by the women, as well those that were not, as
those that were, of kin to him, save only Madonna Ermellina.
[092]
Which
Aldobrandino observing, said:
What is this, Ermellina? How
comes it that, unlike the other ladies, thou alone dost Tedaldo no
cheer?
[093]
Cheer,
replied the lady in the hearing of all,
would I
gladly do him such as no other woman has done or could do, seeing
that I am more beholden to him than any other woman, in that to
him I owe it that I have thee with me again; 'tis but the words
spoken to my disadvantage, while we mourned him that we deemed
Tedaldo, that give me pause.
[094]
Now out upon thee,
said
Aldobrandino,
thinkest thou that I heed the yelping of these curs?
His zeal for my deliverance has abundantly disproved it, besides which
I never believed it. Quick, get thee up, and go and embrace him.
[095]
The lady, who desired nothing better, was in this not slow to obey
her husband; she rose forthwith, and embraced Tedaldo as the other
ladies had done, and did him gladsome cheer. Tedaldo's brothers
and all the company, men and women alike, heartily approved Aldobrandino's
handsomeness; and so whatever of despite the rumour had
engendered in the minds of any was done away.
[096]
And, now that all
had done him cheer, Tedaldo with his own hands rent his brothers'
suits of black upon their backs, as also the sad-hued garments which
his sisters and sisters-in-law wore, and bade bring other apparel. Which
when they had donned, there was no lack of singing, dancing and
other sorts of merry-making; whereby the banquet, for all its subdued
beginning, had a sonorous close. Then, just as they were, in the
blithest of spirits, they hied them all to Tedaldo's house, where in
the evening they supped; and in this manner they held festival for
several days.
[097]
'Twas some time before the Florentines ceased to look on Tedaldo
as a portent, as if he were risen from the dead; and a shadow of doubt
whether he were really Tedaldo or no continued to lurk in the minds
of not a few, including even his brothers: they had no assured belief;
and in that frame had perchance long continued, but for a casual
occurrence that shewed them who the murdered man was.
[098]
It so
befell that one day some men-at-arms from Lunigiana passed by their
house, and seeing Tedaldo accosted him, saying:
Good-morrow to
thee, Faziuolo.
[099]
To whom Tedaldo, in the presence of his brothers,
answered:
You take me for another.
Whereat they were abashed,
and asked his pardon, saying:
Sooth to tell, you are liker than we
ever knew any man like to another to a comrade of ours, Faziuolo da
Pontremoli by name, who came hither a fortnight ago, or perhaps a
little more, since when we have not been able to learn what became
of him. Most true it is that your dress surprised us, because he, like
ourselves, was a soldier.
[100]
Whereupon Tedaldo's eldest brother came
forward, and asked how their comrade had been accoutred. They
told him, and 'twas found to have been exactly as they said: by which
and other evidence 'twas established that 'twas Faziuolo that had been
murdered, and not Tedaldo; of whom thenceforth no suspicion
lurked in the minds of his brothers or any one else.
[101] So, then, Tedaldo returned home very rich, and remained constant in his love; nor did the lady again treat him harshly; but, using discretion, they long had mutual solace of their love. God grant us solace of ours.