Novel II
Novel II
[Voice: panfilo]
[001] The priest of Varlungo lies with Monna Belcolore: he leaves with her his cloak by way of pledge, and receives from her a mortar. He returns the mortar, and demands of her the cloak that he had left in pledge, which the good lady returns him with a gibe.
[002] Ladies and men alike commended Gulfardo for the check that he gave to the greed of the Milanese lady; but before they had done, the queen turned to Pamfilo, and with a smile bade him follow suit: wherefore thus Pamfilo began:
[003] Fair my ladies, it occurs to me to tell you a short story, which reflects no credit on those by whom we are continually wronged without being able to retaliate, to wit, the priests, who have instituted a crusade against our wives, and deem that, when they have made conquest of one of them, they have done a work every whit as worthy of recompense by remission of sin and punishment as if they had brought the Soldan in chains to Avignon: [004] in which respect 'tis not possible for the hapless laity to be even with them: howbeit they are as hot to make reprisals on the priests' mothers, sisters, mistresses, and daughters as the priests to attack their wives. [005] Wherefore I am minded to give you, as I may do in few words, the history of a rustic amour, the conclusion whereof was not a little laughable, nor barren of moral, for you may also gather therefrom, that 'tis not always well to believe everything that a priest says.
[006]
I say then, that at Varlungo, a village hard by here, as all of you,
my ladies, should wot either of your own knowledge or by report,
there dwelt a worthy priest, and doughty of body in the service of
the ladies: who, albeit he was none too quick at his book, had no
lack
of precious and blessed solecisms to edify his flock withal of a
Sunday under the elm.
[007]
And when the men were out of doors, he
would visit their wives as never a priest had done before him, bringing
them feast-day gowns and holy water, and now and again a bit of
candle, and giving them his blessing.
[008]
Now it so befell that among
those of his fair parishioners whom he most affected the first place
was at length taken by one Monna Belcolore, the wife of a husbandman
that called himself Bentivegna del Mazzo.
[009]
And in good sooth
she was a winsome and lusty country lass, brown as a berry and
buxom enough, and fitter than e'er another for his mill. Moreover
she had not her match in playing the tabret and singing:
The
borage is full sappy
,
[013]
Now it so befell that one day, when the priest at high noon was
aimlessly gadding about the village, he encountered Bentivegna del
Mazzo at the tail of a well laden ass, and greeted him, asking him
whither he was going.
[014]
I'faith, Sir,
quoth Bentivegna,
for sure
'tis to town I go, having an affair or two to attend to there; and I
am taking these things to Ser Buonaccorri da Ginestreto, to get him
to stand by me in I wot not what matter, whereof the justice
o' th' coram has by his provoker served me with a pertrumpery
summons to appear before him.
[015]
Whereupon:
'Tis well, my
son,
quoth the priest, overjoyed,
my blessing go with thee: good
luck to thee and a speedy return; and harkye, shouldst thou see
Lapuccio or Naldino, do not forget to tell them to send me those
thongs for my flails.
[016]
It shall be done,
quoth Bentivegna, and
jogged on towards Florence, while the priest, thinking that now was
his time to hie him to Belcolore and try his fortune, put his best
leg forward, and stayed not till he was at the house, which entering,
he said:
God be gracious to us! Who is within?
[017]
Belcolore,
who was up in the loft, made answer:
Welcome, Sir; but what
dost thou, gadding about in the heat?
[018]
Why, as I hope for
God's blessing,
quoth he,
I am just come to stay with thee a
while, having met thy husband on his way to town.
[019]
Whereupon
down came Belcolore, took a seat, and began sifting cabbage-seed
that her husband had lately threshed. By and by the priest began:
So, Belcolore, wilt thou keep me ever a dying thus?
[020]
Whereat
Belcolore tittered, and said:
Why, what is't I do to you?
[021]
Truly, nothing at all,
replied the priest:
but thou sufferest me
not to do to thee that which I had lief, and which God commands.
[022]
Now away with you!
returned Belcolore,
do priests do that
sort of thing?
[023]
Indeed we do,
quoth the priest,
and to better
purpose than others: why not? I tell you our grinding is far
better; and wouldst thou know why? 'tis because 'tis intermittent.
And in truth 'twill be well worth thy while to keep thine own
counsel, and let me do it.
[024]
Worth my while!
ejaculated
Belcolore.
How may that be? There is never a one of you but
would
overreach the very Devil.
[025]
'Tis not for me to say,
returned the priest;
say but what thou wouldst have: shall it be
a pair of dainty shoes? Or wouldst thou prefer a fillet? Or
perchance a gay riband? What's thy will?
[026]
Marry, no lack
have I,
quoth Belcolore,
of such things as these. But, if you
wish me so well, why do me not a service? and I would then be
at your command.
[027]
Name but the service,
returned the priest,
and gladly will I do it.
[028]
Quoth then Belcolore:
On Saturday
I have to go to Florence to deliver some wool that I have spun,
and to get my spinning-wheel put in order: lend me but five
pounds--I know you have them--and I will redeem my perse
petticoat from the pawnshop, and also the girdle that I wear on
saints' days, and that I had when I was married--you see that
without them I cannot go to church or anywhere else, and then I
will do just as you wish thenceforth and forever.
[029]
Whereupon:
So God give me a good year,
quoth he,
as I have not the
money with me: but never fear that I will see that thou hast it
before Saturday with all the pleasure in life.
[030]
Ay, ay,
rejoined
Belcolore,
you all make great promises, but then you never keep
them. Think you to serve me as you served Biliuzza, whom you
left in the lurch at last? God's faith, you do not so. To think
that she turned woman of the world just for that! If you have
not the money with you, why, go and get it.
[031]
Prithee,
returned
the priest,
send me not home just now. For, seest thou, 'tis the
very nick of time with me, and the coast is clear, and perchance it
might not be so on my return, and in short I know not when it
would be likely to go so well as now.
[032]
Whereto she did but
rejoin:
Good; if you are minded to go, get you gone; if not,
stay where you are.
[033]
The priest, therefore, seeing that she was
not disposed to give him what he wanted, as he was fain, to wit, on
his own terms, but was bent upon having a
quid pro quo
, changed
his tone; and:
Lo, now,
quoth he,
thou doubtest I will not
bring thee the money; so to set thy mind at rest, I will leave thee
this cloak--thou seest 'tis good sky-blue silk--in pledge.
[034]
So raising
her head and glancing at the cloak:
And what may the cloak be
worth?
quoth Belcolore.
[035]
Worth!
ejaculated the priest:
I
would have thee know that 'tis all Douai, not to say Trouai,
make: nay, there are some of our folk here that say 'tis Quadrouai;
and
'tis not a fortnight since I bought it of Lotto, the secondhand
dealer, for seven good pounds, and then had it five good soldi
under value, by what I hear from Buglietto, who, thou knowest,
is an excellent judge of these articles.
[036]
Oh! say you so?
exclaimed Belcolore.
So help me God, I should not have thought
it; however, let me look at it.
[037]
So Master Priest, being ready for
action, doffed the cloak and handed it to her. And she, having
put it in a safe place, said to him:
Now, Sir, we will away to
the hut; there is never a soul goes there;
and so they did.
[038]
And
there Master Priest, giving her many a mighty buss and straining
her to his sacred person, solaced himself with her no little while.
[039]
Which done, he hied him away in his cassock, as if he were come
from officiating at a wedding; but, when he was back in his holy
quarters, he bethought him that not all the candles that he received
by way of offering in the course of an entire year would amount to
the half of five pounds, and saw that he had made a bad bargain,
and repented him that he had left the cloak in pledge, and cast
about how he might recover it without paying anything.
[040]
And as
he did not lack cunning, he hit upon an excellent expedient, by
which he compassed his end. So on the morrow, being a saint's
day, he sent a neighbour's lad to Monna Belcolore with a request
that she would be so good as to lend him her stone mortar, for that
Binguccio dal Poggio and Nuto Buglietti were to breakfast with
him that morning, and he therefore wished to make a sauce.
Belcolore having sent the mortar,
[041]
the priest, about breakfast time,
reckoning that Bentivegna del Mazzo and Belcolore would be at
their meal, called his clerk, and said to him:
Take the mortar
back to Belcolore, and say: 'My master thanks you very kindly,
and bids you return the cloak that the lad left with you in pledge.'
[042]
The clerk took the mortar to Belcolore's house, where, finding her
at table with Bentivegna, he set the mortar down and delivered the
priest's message.
[043]
Whereto Belcolore would fain have demurred;
but Bentivegna gave her a threatening glance, saying:
So, then,
thou takest a pledge from Master Priest? By Christ, I vow, I
have half a mind to give thee a great clout o' the chin. Go, give
it back at once, a murrain on thee! And look to it that whatever
he may have a mind to, were it our very ass, he be never denied.
[044]
So, with a very bad grace, Belcolore got up, and went to the
wardrobe,
and took out the cloak, and gave it to the clerk, saying:
Tell thy master from me: Would to God he may never ply pestle
in my mortar again, such honour has he done me for this turn!
[045]
So the clerk returned with the cloak, and delivered the message to
Master Priest; who, laughing, made answer:
Tell her, when
thou next seest her, that, so she lend us not the mortar, I will not
lend her the pestle: be it tit for tat.
[046] Bentivegna made no account of his wife's words, deeming that 'twas but his chiding that had provoked them. But Belcolore was not a little displeased with Master Priest, and had never a word to say to him till the vintage; after which, what with the salutary fear in which she stood of the mouth of Lucifer the Great, to which he threatened to consign her, and the must and roast chestnuts that he sent her, she made it up with him, and many a jolly time they had together. [047] And though she got not the five pounds from him, he put a new skin on her tabret, and fitted it with a little bell, wherewith she was satisfied.