Part 6

_A young lady being enamoured of the Prince of Salerno sends for one of his chaplains and declares to him that she has received from the said prince numerous letters praying for her love. The chaplain, having divined her motive, enters into a plot with her and brings the affair to the issue desired._

At that time when our most glorious lord and king, Don Fernando, was entertaining Naples, according to his constant use, with those joustings, those marvellous hunting parties, and those sumptuous festivals which were famed far and wide, it chanced that amongst the other merry-makers was a certain young damsel, of beauty almost unrivalled, and a scion of one of the noblest houses of our Parthenopean city.

Now for some time past she had often let her eyes regale themselves with the beauty and the grace of form belonging to my most illustrious lord, the Prince of Salerno, and beyond this had heard sung, over and over again, the praises of his extraordinary worth. By this time she was more than ever captivated by him, wherefore she became so lovesick that she could only give thought to the gentleman by whom her fancy had been ensnared.

After she had let her thoughts ... engage themselves in many and divers plans by which she might honourably achieve the victory in so worthy an adventure, she found that all these schemes were over-difficult to compass; wherefore it more than once came into her head that she would follow the advice of certain other ladies of her acquaintance, who, whenever they found they could not refrain from entering the lists of love, were wont to send word to the gallant youths beloved of them and challenge them to the amorous warfare.

But this damsel, who was gifted with no small prudence, and was persuaded at the same time that she would not, by following such a course, be setting a very high value either upon herself or upon her undertaking, suddenly determined that she would make trial of a novel and very crafty stratagem to induce the prince aforesaid to cull the first fruits of her virgin garden. Having chosen a time when the prince had gone to other parts for diversion in the chase, she let come to her a certain priest, a man whom she could fully trust, and one who was much about the house, and to him she gave directions as to what she would have him do.

_This priest now brings Fra Paulo, the chaplain and the prince’s most trusted attendant, to the damsel who alleges the receipt of impassioned love-letters from the prince. She is at a loss to know whether these letters have been concocted by one of her brothers with a view to putting her constancy to proof, or whether they have really been written by the prince who “is in sooth taken with love of me, seeing that I have at times kept my eyes fixed upon him somewhat more than was due.” The text continues_:--

With these, and with other words of a like character, which had been prepared with the most consummate art, she laid before the chaplain the letters aforesaid, by way of giving him still farther assurance of the truth of her craftily devised discourse. Fra Paulo, although, as a prudent man, and as one accustomed to bring contests of this sort to a victorious issue, he had fully detected and comprehended the hidden wishes and purpose of the young lady, nevertheless, as she went on step by step with her reasonings and arguments, was astonished at finding so great ingenuity and astuteness in the brain of a damsel so delicate and youthful.

Still, as he remarked more than once that, whenever she mentioned the name of his lord the prince, her face changed colour, he understood that the passion which possessed her must be indeed burning and fierce. Wherefore he determined to let this same wind speed his own bark over such a pleasant sea, and he thus made answer to her:--

“Lady mine, because of your kindness, you have thought well enough of me to unveil to me your secret affairs, you may rest assured that, no less for the preservation of your own good name than for the safeguarding of my lord’s, I will deal with this matter with all that silence and secrecy which, according to your judgement and mine as well, the gravity and importance of the same demand....

“ ... I declare once for all that these letters were never written by my lord; in sooth, if they had been his handiwork, I should have marvelled amain, because it is his custom never to write with his own hand to any woman, however fiercely his passion may be kindled for her, unless he may first have made proof of her love.... At the outset of all his love affairs the letters and messages thereanent are written and arranged by the agency of the chamberlain, who is in his closest confidence. Wherefore I hold it for certain that these same letters must be from the hands of this man....

“ ... Many a time, when I have chanced to be discoursing concerning the beauty of women with my lord, he, with a little sigh, which he seemed fain to repress, has never ceased to place you before all other ladies. And although his words are rare and few and sententious, he has full often let me know secretly that you are the only one to whom he has entirely given his love.

“Therefore meseems that ... you should give me authority to act, so I may be able to place the whole matter together with your own doubts and fears, before the notice of my lord.... And in order that you may speedily be informed of the answer, and that the affair may be kept no long time in suspense, it will behove you to be on the watch for me, for when you shall see me pass by your house, and call to a certain boy who will be standing opposite thereto, you may be assured that I have done my errand, and on the following morning let us meet once more in this same spot.”

The young lady, deeming that she had assuredly gulled the friar by her trick, and that her plot could not now fail to come to an issue perfectly satisfactory to her, was so greatly overjoyed that it seemed to her as if she had in sooth been crowned by Heaven.... Then, having brought their discourse to an end, and each one being in a contented mood, though for a different cause, they went their several ways.

As Fortune willed it ... the friar was met by the news that the prince had already taken the road with the intention of being in Naples on the following day. Wherefore Fra Paulo, having gone out to meet him, was mightily glad to let him know the whole history of the craft of the amorous damsel, and of the scheme which she had framed. The prince gave ear to the same with no less amazement than pleasure; for, albeit he had rarely cast his eyes upon this young girl, and retained no recollection of her beauty, nevertheless it seemed to him to be only just and right that he should hold dear those who loved him. So he made answer to the friar, and bade him set the business in progress in such wise that the meeting might be brought to pass at the earliest possible time.

The friar, pleased beyond measure and eager to do service to the prince, betook himself towards the house of the damsel as soon as he had dismounted from his beast. Then, having made the sign which had been agreed between themselves--a sign which she observed and understood with the utmost pleasure--the damsel duly repaired on the following morning to the spot which had been chosen; and there, when she met the friar, he said to her:--

“My dear lord, who for your pleasure arrived last night in Naples, commends himself to you. I have set before him at full length the purport of the converse betwixt you and me, but I could not draw from his lips any other reply except that he prays and conjures you, by the perfect love which he has for so long a time borne and still bears to you, and also by that love which you should dutifully entertain towards him, that it will please you, on this same evening, to give him a kindly audience in order that he may, without needing to confide in any living man, lay bare to you those matters which he has kept hitherto, and still keeps, secured by a strong lock within his passionate breast.”

The young woman, who, as she listened to these words, was so vastly overjoyed that she could with difficulty contain herself within her skin, now felt that every hour would be as a thousand years until she should find herself engaged in the supreme conclusions of love; and, after a few feeble denials and hesitations, answered that she was ready to do what the prince desired. She did not quit the friar’s company until they had, in discreet wise, settled when and in what manner and in what place she and the prince should come together for the amorous battle.

The friar then betook himself straightway to his beloved lord and prince, who indeed was awaiting him and his answer. Then he set forth everything to the prince, who, when himseemed that the appointed time had come, went with his attendants to the meeting-place, and there he found the lovely young damsel, who, delicately arrayed and perfumed, received him with open arms and exceeding great delight.

Then, after countless kisses had been given and received by the prince, they got on board their bark, and after the helm had been duly set and the sails spread to the wind, the damsel, what though she was not as yet greatly versed in the mariner’s art, let her lover navigate the sea of love during all the time they were able to spend together. When at last they found themselves with great delight once more in port, the damsel, tenderly clasping the neck of the prince with her arms, thus addressed him:--

“My sweetest lord, for that I alone, aided by my own skill and forethought, have succeeded in bringing you hither this first time I have but to thank myself, but for the future I must leave to the care of you and of Love the devising of the means whereby you may be able to show me further proofs of your passion. Now there remains nothing more for me to say except that I recommend myself without ceasing to your favour.”

Thereupon the illustrious lord the prince heartened her with soft and tender words, and they then took leave of one another with great pleasure and delight; and if anyone should still wish to know whether, and in what fashion, this love of theirs bore further fruit, let him inquire on his own behalf.

_EXCURSUS_ to _THE DAMSEL AND THE PRINCE_.

Because Masuccio--so far as the general public is concerned--may be counted among the lesser-known of the Novellieri of the Cinquecento, it may not be inappropriate to give a few details of his life and work. To this purpose we cannot do better than quote from the admirable introduction to Mr. W. G. Waters’ translation of the _Novellino_, whence is taken our story of _The Damsel and the Prince_.

Masuccio, says Mr. Waters, “was probably born about 1420.... Seeing that he was Sanseverino’s secretary, and that the great majority of his novels are dedicated to prominent Neapolitans, it may be assumed that his life was chiefly spent in Naples and the neighbourhood.... After 1474 Masuccio fades entirely from view....

“Masuccio seems to have rated himself as one with a message to deliver ... his phraseology gives one the impression that he wrote with his feelings at white heat.... In the very Prologue to the work he announces his primary theme, by proclaiming himself the scourger of priestly vices.... If the words which a man speaks or writes are ever to be taken as evidence of the mind that is in him, then assuredly Masuccio may be credited with ardent hatred of the offences he denounces.[38] Putting aside occasional lapses into licentiousness of expression as accidents inseparable from the age in which he wrote, it is almost impossible to doubt his sincerity as a would-be reformer of manners....

[38] Masuccio, of course, cannot claim any peculiar virtue in this respect, lust in the guise or under the cloak of religion being a favourite theme of mediæval and even later novelists. We shall deal at length with the subject in the second volume of _Anthologica Rarissima: The Way of a Priest_.

“ ... Masuccio’s canvas is a limited one. A few of his stories are in the vein of genuine buffo, a few more are tragedies pure and simple, but the majority of the residue will be found to treat of one or other of his two particular themes, the castigation of profligate clerics and unchaste women. He devotes one part of the work to each of these specially; but in the other parts he never lets a friar or a woman escape the lash if he finds the chance of laying it on.

“The most scathing passages ... are those which occur here and there in the ‘Masuccio’ at the end of his stories.... As an instance may be quoted the conclusion to Novel XXIII., in which, after screaming himself hoarse over the crimes of women, he finishes with these words:--

“‘Would that it had been God’s pleasure and Nature’s to have suffered us to be brought forth from the oak-trees, or indeed to have been engendered from water and mire like the frogs in the humid rains of summer, rather than to have taken our origin from so base, so corrupt, and so vilely fashioned a sex as womankind.’”

As a further example of Masuccio’s hatred of women, Mr. Waters cites “the frightful indictment at the end of Novel VI. which he prefers against women who put on the habit of religious houses.” We might do worse than quote it:--

“ ... I keep silence, likewise, concerning all that might be said on the subject of the marriage of these women with friars ... how they make sumptuous marriage feasts, inviting thereto from this convent and that their friends, who present themselves with equipages laden with all manner of rich goods.... With the consent of the abbess and of their prelate they execute marriage contracts, duly written and sealed; and then, having supped off all manner of sumptuous meats, and performed every other ceremony pertaining to the rite of marriage, they go to bed one with another without showing any fear or shame, just as if their union had been contracted with the full sanction of their own fathers, and by the laws of marriage....”[39]

[39] _C.f._ _The New Metamorphosis, or The Golden Ass of Apuleius altered and improved to Modern Times_, by Carlo Socio: London, 1822, extracts from which, exactly germane to Masuccio’s denunciation, will be found in vol. 2 of _Anthologica Rarissima: The Way of a Priest_.

Space will not permit us, however, to deal _in extenso_ with Masuccio’s hatred of priest and woman. We can best refer the reader to his _Novellino_, or to such extracts as we shall make from them in subsequent volumes of _Anthologica Rarissima_. Our purpose, in the foregoing sketch, was to give some slight impression of the aims and mentality of the author of the two stories reproduced in this particular volume.

THE PENITENT NUN.[40]

[40] J. S. Farmer: _Merry Songs and Ballads_: vol. 5: by John Lockman: from _Musical Miscellany_, (1731). Farmer, of course, is the editor and compiler of _Slang and its Analogues_, to which we make constant reference.

Dame _Jane_ a sprightly Nun, and gay, And formed of very yielding Clay, Had long with resolution strove To guard against the Shafts of Love. Fond _Cupid_ smiling, spies the Fair, And soon he baffles all her Care, In vain she tries her Pain to smother, The Nymph too frail, the Nymph too frail, becomes a Mother.

But no, these little Follies o’er, She firmly vows she’ll sin no more; No more to Vice will fall a Prey, But spend in Prayer each fleeting Day. Close in her Cell immur’d she lies, Nor from the Cross removes her Eyes; Whilst Sisters crouding at the Crate, Spend all their Time, spend all their Time in Worldly Prate.

The Abbess, overjoy’d to find This happy Change in Jenny’s Mind, The rest, with Air compos’d, addressing, “Daughters, if you expect a Blessing, “From pious _Jane_, Example take, “The World and all its Joys forsake.” “We will (they all replied as One) “But first let’s do as _Jane_ has done.”

BEYOND THE MARK.[41]

[41] _Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_: “now first done into the English tongue by Robert B. Douglas, (_One Hundred Merrie and Delightsome Stories_)”: Paris, Charles Carrington, 1899 (?): 82nd story. The editors of _Anthologica Rarissima_ have taken slight liberties with Mr. Douglas’ translation, deeming archaic phraseology more fitting to the atmosphere of the narrative.

_Of a shepherd who made an agreement with a shepherdess that he should mount upon her “in order that he might see farther,” but was not to penetrate beyond a mark which she herself made with her hand upon the instrument of the said shepherd--as will more plainly appear hereafter._

Listen, an it please ye, to what happened, near Lille, to a shepherd and a young shepherdess who tended their flocks together, or near together.

Nature had already stirred in them, and they were of an age to know “the way of the world,” so one day an agreement was made between them that the shepherd should mount on the shepherdess “in order to see farther,”[42]--provided, however, that he should not penetrate beyond a mark which she made with her hand upon the natural instrument of the shepherd, and which was about two fingers’ breadth below the head; and the mark was made with a blackberry taken from the hedge.

[42] The phrase has passed into use as an accepted slang term for the sexual act.

That being done, they began God’s work, and the shepherd pushed in as though it had cost him no trouble, and without thinking about any mark or sign, or the promise he had made to the shepherdess, for all that he had it buried up to the hilt, and if he had had more he would have found a place to put it.

The pretty shepherdess, who had never had such a wedding, enjoyed herself so much that she would willingly have done nothing else all her life. The battle being ended, both went to look after their sheep, which had meanwhile strayed some distance. They being brought together again, the shepherd, who was called Hacquin, to pass the time, sat in a swing set up between two hedges, and there he swung, as happy as a king.

The shepherdess sat by the side of a ditch, and made a wreath of flowers. She sang a little song, hoping that it would attract the shepherd, and he would begin the game over again; but that was very far from his thoughts. When she found he did not come, she began to call: “Hacquin! Hacquin!”

And he replied: “What wantest thou?”

“Come hither! Come hither! Wilt thou?” said she.

But Hacquin had had a surfeit of pleasure and made answer:

“In God’s name, leave me alone. I do naught. I enjoy myself.”

Then the shepherdess cried:

“Come hither, Hacquin; I will let thee go in further, without making any mark.”

“By St. John,” said Hacquin, “I went far beyond the mark, and I do not want any more.”

He would not go to the shepherdess, who was much vexed to have to remain idle.[43]

[43] _Songs of the Groves: Records of the Ancient World_, (The Vine Press: Steyning, Sussex: 1921), has a singularly charming account of a rustic courtship. _The Wooing_, the poem to which we refer, is a rendering from the Greek of Theocritus, and is remarkable for the vivid picture conjured up before our eyes in a few lines of verse. Daphnis, a young shepherd, and a maiden, discourse of love and marriage; eventually she yields to his passion:--

“_Remove your hand, you satyr; do not seek my blossoms so!_” “_Just a first glance! Oh! I must see those snowy flowers of mine!_” “_O Pan! O Pan! I’m fainting! Take away that hand of thine!_” “_Darling, look up! Don’t tremble so! Why fear your Lycidas?_” “_Oh, Daphnis! I shall spoil my robe; it’s filthy on this grass._” “_But--just see here!--the softest fleece over your robe I’ve thrown._” “_Ah me! Oh! Don’t undo my belt! Why do you loose my zone?_” “_Because the Paphian Queen must have it for an offering._” “_Some one will come! I hear a noise! Leave off, you cruel thing!_” “_A noise? My cypresses: they murmur how my darling weds._” “_Oh, I am bare! You’ve torn my robe into a string of shreds!_” “_A better robe I’ll give you soon; a larger robe I’ll buy._” “_Oh, yes! You’ll give me all, when soon salt even you’ll deny._” “_Oh, I could pour my soul into you for your dear delight!_” “_Forgive, O Artemis, forgive your faithless acolyte._” “_Venus shall have an ox; a calf for Cupid I will burn._” “_A virgin came I hither, but a woman shall return._” “_The nurse, the mother, of my babes, now never more a maid._” _So with young limbs entwined in love all joyously they played, Soft-murmuring each to each; then from their secret couch they leap: She, when she had arisen, went away to feed her sheep; Shame was in her eyes, but her heart beat high above: Joyous, he went to feed his flocks, glad from the bed of love._

THE DEVIL IN HELL.[44]

[44] _The Decameron_ of Giovanni Boccaccio, translated by John Payne, Villon Society, 1884. See _Excursus_ to this story.

In the city of Capsa in Barbary there was aforetime a very rich man, who, among his other children, had a fair and winsome young daughter, by name Alibech. She, not being a Christian and hearing many Christians who abode in the town mightily extol the Christian faith and the service of God, one day questioned one of them in what manner one might avail to serve God with the least hindrance. The other answered that they best served God who most strictly eschewed the things of the world, as those did who had betaken them into the solitudes of the deserts of Thebaïs.

The girl, who was maybe fourteen years old and very simple, moved by no ordered desire, but by some childish fancy, set off next morning by stealth and all alone, to go to the desert of Thebaïs without letting any know her intent.

After some days, her desire persisting, she won, with no little toil, to the deserts in question and seeing a hut afar off, went thither and found at the door a holy man, who marvelled to see her there and asked her what she sought. She replied that, being inspired of God, she went seeking to enter into His service and was now in quest of one who should teach her how it behoved to serve Him.

The worthy man, seeing her young and very fair and fearing lest, an he entertained her, the devil should beguile him, commended her pious intent and giving her somewhat to eat of roots and herbs and wild apples and dates and to drink of water, said to her: