This is the Seventh Story of the First Day.
It is a matter of very common knowledge throughout the greater part of the world that Can Grande della Scala, upon whom Fortune smiled in so many of his deeds was one of the most outstanding and magnificent princes that Italy has known since the Emperor Frederick the Second.
He once arranged to hold a splendid and marvelous festival at Verona to which many people would be coming from all over the place, in particular court-entertainers of various kinds. But for reasons of his own, he suddenly changed his mind about it, offered token presents to those who had come, and sent them all packing.
The only person to receive neither present nor other dispensation was a certain Bergamino, a conversationalist of quite extraordinary wit and brilliance, who lingered on in the hope that it would eventually turn out to his advantage. But Can Grande had the fixed idea that whatever he gave to this man would be more surely wasted than if he had thrown it into the fire. He did not, however, say anything personally to Bergamino about this, nor did he have him told by others.
Some few days being passed over, and Bergamino perceiving, that he was neither called, nor any account made of, notwithstanding many manly good parts in him; observing beside, that he found a shrewd consumption in his purse, his Inn, horses, and servants, being chargeable to him, he began to grow extremely melancholy, and yet he attended in expectation day by day, as thinking it far unfitting for him, to depart before he was bidden farewell.
Having brought with him there three goodly rich garments, which had been given him by sundry Lords, to improve his appearance at this great meeting; the importunate Host being greedy of payment, first he delivered him one of them, and yet not half the score being wiped off, the second must follow; and beside, except he meant to leave his lodging, he must live upon the third so long as it would last, till he saw what end his hopes would sort too.
It happened, during the time of living thus upon his last refuge, that he met with Master Can one day at dinner, where he presented himself before him, with a discontented countenance: which Master Can well observing, more to distaste him, then take delight in any thing that could come from him, he said. Bergamino, how do you fare? Thou art very melancholy, I pray tell us why? Bergamino suddenly, without any premeditation, yet seeming as if he had long considered thereon, reported this Tale.
Sir, I have heard of a certain man, named Primasso, one skillfully learned in the Grammar, and (beyond all other) a very witty and ready versifier: in regard whereof, he was so much admired, and far renowned, that such as never saw him, but only heard of him, could easily say, this is Primasso. It came to pass, that being once at Paris, in poor estate, as commonly he could light on no better fortune (because virtue is poorly rewarded, by such as have the greatest possessions) he heard much fame of the Abbot of Clugni, a man reputed (next to the Pope) to be the richest Prelate of the Church. Of him he heard wonderful and magnificent matters, that he always kept an open and hospitable Court, and never made refusal of any (from whence soever he came or went) but they did ate and drink freely there; provided, that they came when the Abbot was set at the Table. Primasso hearing this, and being an earnest desirer to see magnificent and virtuous men, he resolved to go see this rare bounty of the Abbot, demanding how far he dwelt from Paris? Being answered, about some three Leagues thence. Primasso made account, that if he went on betimes in the morning, he should easily reach thither before therefore dinner.
Being instructed in the way, and not finding any to walk along with him; fearing, if he went without some furnishment, and should stay long there for his dinner, he might (perhaps) complain of hunger: he therefore carried three loaves of bread with him, knowing that he could meet with water every where, albeit he used to drink but little. Having aptly conveyed his bread about him, he went on his journey, and arrived at the Lord Abbots Court, an indifferent while before dinner time: wherefore entering into the great Hall, and so from place to place, beholding the great multitude of Tables, bountiful preparation in the Kitchen, and what admirable provision there was for dinner, he said to himself; Truly this man is more magnificent then Fame has made him, because she speaks too sparingly of him.
While thus he went about, considering on all these things very respectively, he saw the Master of the Abbots Household (because then it was the hour of dinner) command water to be brought for washing hands, so every one sitting down at the table, it fell to the lot of Primasso, to sit directly against the door, whereat the Abbot must enter into the Hall. The custom in this Court was such, that no manner of Food should be served to any of the Table, until such time as the Lord Abbot was himself set: whereupon, every thing being fit and ready, the Master of the Household went to tell his Lord, that nothing now wanted but his only presence.
The Abbot coming from his Chamber to enter the Hall, looking about him, as he was wont to do; the first man he saw was Primasso, who being but in homely habitue, and he having not seen him before to his remembrance, a present bad conceit possessed his brain, that he never saw an unworthy person, saying within himself: See how I give my goods away to be devoured. So returning back to his Chamber again; commanded the door to be made fast, demanding of every man near about him, if they knew the base Knave that satebefore his entrance into the Hall, and all his servants answered no. Primasso being extremely hungry, with travailing on foot so far, and never used to fast so long; expecting still when meat would be served in, and that the Abbot came not at all: drew out one of his loaves which he brought with him, and very heartily fell to feeding.
My Lord Abbot, after he had stayed within an indifferent while, sent forth one of his men, to see if the poor fellow was gone, or no. The servant told him, that he stayed there, and fed upon dry bread, which it seemed he had brought thither with him. Let him feed on his one (replayed the Abbot) for he shall taste of none of mine this day. Gladly would the Abbot, that Primasso should have gone thence of himself, and yet held it scarcely honest in his Lordship, to dismiss him by his one command. Primasso having eaten one of his Loaves, and yet the Abbot was not come; began to feed upon the second: the Abbot still sending to expect his absence, and answered as he was before. At length, the Abbot not coming, and Primasso having eaten up his second loaf, hunger compiled him to begin with the third.
When these news were carried to the Abbot, suddenly he broke forth. What new kind of needy trice has my brain begot this day? Why do I grow disdainful against any man whatsoever? I have long time allowed my meat to be eaten by all commerce that did please to visit me, without exception against any person, Gentleman, Yeoman, poor or rich, Merchant or Minstrel, honest man or knave, never refraining my presence in the Hall, by basely contemning one poor man. Believe me, covetousness of one mans meat, does ill agree with my estate and calling. What though he appears a wretched fellow to me? He may be of greater merit then I can imagine, and deserve more honor then I am able to give him.
Having thus discoursed with himself, he would needs understand of whence, and what he was, and finding him to be Primasso, come only to see the magnificence which he had reported of him, knowing also (by the general fame noised every where of him) that he was reputed to be a learned, honest, and ingenious man: he grew greatly ashamed of his one folly, and being desirous to make him an amends, strove many ways how to do him honor. When dinner was ended, the Abbot bestowed honorable garments on him, such as seemed his degree and merit, and putting good store of money in his purse, as also giving him a good horse to ride on, left it at his own free election, whether he would stay there still with him, or depart at his pleasure.
Wherewith Primasso being highly contented, yielding him the heartiest thanks he could devise to do, returned to Paris on horse-back, albeit he came poorly thither on foot.
Master Can de la Scala, who was a man of good understanding, perceived immediately (without any further interpretation) what Bergamino meant by this moral, and smiling on him, aside: Bergamino, thou has honestly expressed thy virtue and necessities, and justly reproved mine avarice, niggardliness, and base folly. And trust me Bergamino, I never felt such a fit of covetousness come upon me, as this which I have dishonestly declared to thee: and which I will now banish from me, with the same correction as thou has taught em. So, having paid the Host all his charges, redeeming also his robes or garments, mounting him on a good Gelding, and putting plenty of Crowns in his purse, he referred it to his one choice to depart, or dwell there still with him.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Giovanni Boccaccio biography
Giovanni Boccaccio was born in 1313 in Florence. He was the illegitimate son of a well-to-do merchant, Boccaccino di Chellino. The identity of his mother is unknown today, probably because Boccaccio was formally recognized and adopted by his father, and went to live with him. In 1319, Boccaccio's father married a young bride, Margherita dei Mardoli. When Giovanni was fourteen, his father was sent to Naples by a large Florentine banking company. He went with his father, and did not return to Florence until he was twenty-eight.
Although it is now his best-known work, the Decameron was only one of many works that Boccaccio wrote. Many of his early books were written during his years in the aristocratic circles at the court in Naples, including Caccia di Diana, Filocolo, Filostrato, and Teseida. His works earned him respect as a writer and an intellectual. As well, Boccaccio was familiar with a wide range of styles of writing, and did not limit himself to the classics, as many scholars of the time period did, including his friend Petrarch.
Bocaccio was as "familiar with historical tales, chivalric romances, certain types of sermons and the bawdy French fabliaux, as he was with Ovid and Homer". He also drew from literary tradition, and popular and oral literature. With such a vast knowledge of all types of storytelling, it is no wonder that Boccaccio managed to write a collection of tales which still entertains people today. The number of influences that he drew upon in his writing must have helped to increase the enjoyment of his readers, for there would be something for all to enjoy, even taking differing tastes into account.
Considering all of Boccaccio's prestige as a writer, he is often seen today as one of the early master storytellers. Indeed, the role of storyteller is one that Boccaccio consciously immersed himself in, even going so far as to change his name in order to enhance this role. His last name, Boccaccio, is slightly different from his father's, Boccaccino, and with purpose. The word "boccaccia" means "ugly mouth" and this can be seen as a metaphor for the many masks that a storyteller must wear.
As well, Boccaccio's stories in the Decameron are not always kind, sometimes quite the opposite; yet he tells the story nonetheless, no matter how unflattering it may be. We cannot know to what degree Boccaccio interpreted his assumed name, but it is likely that he would have included another of his name's connotations, "one who puts on masks".
It appears that Boccaccio was creative, determined, and personable. Although his father intended his son to become a merchant, Boccaccio had other ideas, and at age eighteen, managed to convince his father to let him leave the business. Boccaccino agreed on the condition that Giovanni agree to study canon law. The study of law required a strong knowledge of Latin, a language which Boccaccio was already fairly proficient. He spent much time at the royal library in Naples, and his charming personality must have enabled him to make useful connections, for he was befriended by the royal librarian, and became a regular visitor at the Angevin court. He was probably first introduced to the court by his friend Niccolò Acciaiuoli, who eventually became the seneschal for Catherine de Valois Courtenay.
Giovanni Boccaccio must have been comfortable consorting with the wealthy, privileged class, even with people with royal titles. However, as a bastard son with humble roots on his mother's side, Boccaccio may have been accepted by the lower ranks of society. This gave him an interesting place in society, for he was probably able to interact with people of all levels of income and education. His vast knowledge of the ways of life for people of all levels of society accounts for the wide range of characters in his masterpiece, the Decameron.
Although it is now his best-known work, the Decameron was only one of many works that Boccaccio wrote. Many of his early books were written during his years in the aristocratic circles at the court in Naples, including Caccia di Diana, Filocolo, Filostrato, and Teseida. His works earned him respect as a writer and an intellectual. As well, Boccaccio was familiar with a wide range of styles of writing, and did not limit himself to the classics, as many scholars of the time period did, including his friend Petrarch.
Bocaccio was as "familiar with historical tales, chivalric romances, certain types of sermons and the bawdy French fabliaux, as he was with Ovid and Homer". He also drew from literary tradition, and popular and oral literature. With such a vast knowledge of all types of storytelling, it is no wonder that Boccaccio managed to write a collection of tales which still entertains people today. The number of influences that he drew upon in his writing must have helped to increase the enjoyment of his readers, for there would be something for all to enjoy, even taking differing tastes into account.
Considering all of Boccaccio's prestige as a writer, he is often seen today as one of the early master storytellers. Indeed, the role of storyteller is one that Boccaccio consciously immersed himself in, even going so far as to change his name in order to enhance this role. His last name, Boccaccio, is slightly different from his father's, Boccaccino, and with purpose. The word "boccaccia" means "ugly mouth" and this can be seen as a metaphor for the many masks that a storyteller must wear.
As well, Boccaccio's stories in the Decameron are not always kind, sometimes quite the opposite; yet he tells the story nonetheless, no matter how unflattering it may be. We cannot know to what degree Boccaccio interpreted his assumed name, but it is likely that he would have included another of his name's connotations, "one who puts on masks".
It appears that Boccaccio was creative, determined, and personable. Although his father intended his son to become a merchant, Boccaccio had other ideas, and at age eighteen, managed to convince his father to let him leave the business. Boccaccino agreed on the condition that Giovanni agree to study canon law. The study of law required a strong knowledge of Latin, a language which Boccaccio was already fairly proficient. He spent much time at the royal library in Naples, and his charming personality must have enabled him to make useful connections, for he was befriended by the royal librarian, and became a regular visitor at the Angevin court. He was probably first introduced to the court by his friend Niccolò Acciaiuoli, who eventually became the seneschal for Catherine de Valois Courtenay.
Giovanni Boccaccio must have been comfortable consorting with the wealthy, privileged class, even with people with royal titles. However, as a bastard son with humble roots on his mother's side, Boccaccio may have been accepted by the lower ranks of society. This gave him an interesting place in society, for he was probably able to interact with people of all levels of income and education. His vast knowledge of the ways of life for people of all levels of society accounts for the wide range of characters in his masterpiece, the Decameron.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Stories from the Decameron
Here is a story from the Decameron.
Please note that this story should be rated R18!!!
From Giovanni Boccaccio's
"The Decameron"
Day 3 - Tenth Story
Dioneo had listened closely to the queen's story, and, when it was over and only he remained to tell a story, he did not wait to be commanded, but smilingly began as follows.
Most gracious ladies, perhaps you have never heard how the devil is put into hell; and so, without departing far from the theme upon which you have all spoken today, I shall tell you about it. Perhaps when you have learned it, you also will be able to save your souls, and you may also discover that although love prefers to dwell in gay places and lovely rooms rather than in poor huts, yet he sometimes makes his power felt among thick woods and rugged mountains and desert caves. Whereby we may well perceive that all of us are subject to his power.
Now, to come to my story--in the city of Capsa in Barbary there lived a pretty and charming daughter, named Alivech. She was not a Christian, but she heard many Christians in her native town crying up the Christian Faith and service to God, and one day she asked one of them how a person could most effectively serve God. THe reply was that those best serve God who fly furthest from the things of this world, like the hermits who had departed to the solitudes of the Thebaid Desert.
The girl was about fourteen and very simple minded. Urged by a mere childish entusiasm and not by a well ordered desire, she secretly set out next morning quite alone, without saying a word to anyone, to find the Thebaid Desert. Her enthusiasm lasted several days and enabled her with great fatigue to reach those solitudes. In the distance she saw a little hut with a holy man standing at its entrance. He was amazed to see her there, and asked her what she was seeking. She replied that by God's inspiration she was seeking to serve Him, and begged the hermit to show her the right way to do so. But the holy man saw she was young and pretty, and feared that if he kept her with him he might be tempted of the devil. So he praised her good intentions, gave her some roots and wild apples to eat and some water to drink, and said:
"Daughter, not far from here dwells a holy man who is a far greater master of what you are seeking than i am; go to him."
And so he put her on the way. When she reached him, she was received with much the same words, and passing further on came to the cell of a young hermit named Rustico, to whom she made the same request as to the others. To test his spiritual strength, Rustico did not send her away, but took her into his cell. And when night came, he made her a bed of palm leaves and told her to sleep there.
Almost immediately after this, temptation began the struggle with his spiritual strength, and the hermit found that he had greatly over-estimated his powers of resistance. After a few assaults of the demon he shrugged his shoulders and surrendered. Putting aside holy thoughts and prayers and macerations, he began to think of her beauty and youth, and then pondered how he should proceed with her so that she should not perceive that he obtained what he wanted from her like a dissolute man. First of all he sounded her by certain questions, and discovered that she had never lain with a man and appeared to be very simple minded. He then saw how he could bring her to his desire under pretext of serving God. He began by eloquently showing how the devil is the enemy of the Lord God, and then gave her to understand that the service most pleasing to God is to put the devil back into hell, to which the Lord God has condemned him.
The girl asked how this was done, and Rustico replied:
"You shall soon know. Do what you see me do."
He then threw off the clothes he had and remained stark naked, and the girl imitated him. He kneeled down as if to pray and made her kneel exactly opposite him. As he gazed at her beauty, Rustico's desire became so great that the resurrection of the flesh occured. Alibech looked at it with amazement, and said:
"Rustico, what is that thing I see sticking out in front of you which I haven't got?"
"My daughter," said Rustico, "That is the devil i spoke of. Do you see? He gives me so much trouble at this moment that I can scarcely endure him."
Said the girl:
"Praised be God!" I see I am better off than you are, since I haven't such a devil."
"You speak truly." said Rustico, "but instead of this devil you have something else which I haven't."
"What's that?" said Alibech.
"You've got hell," replied Rustico, "and I believe God sent you here for the salvation of my soul, because this devil gives me great trouble, and if you will take pity upon me and let me put him into hell, you will give me the greatest comfort and at the same time will serve God and please him, since, as you say, you came here for that purpose."
In all good faith the girl replied: "Father, since I have hell in me, let it be whenever you please."
Said rustico: "Blessings upon you my daughter. Let us put him in now so that he will afterwards depart from me."
So saying, he took the girl to one of their beds, and showed her how to lie so as to imprison the thing accursed of God. The girl had never put any devil into her hell and at first felt a little pain, and exclaimed to Rustico:
'O father! This devil must certainly be wicked and the enemy of god, for even when he is put back into hell he hurts it."
"Daughter," said Rustico, "it will not always be so."
To prevent this from happening, Tustico put it into hell six times, before he got off the bed, and so purged the devil's pride that he was glad to rest a little. Thereafter he returned often and the obedient girl was always glad to take him in; and then the game began to give her pleasure, and she said to Rustico:
"I see that the good men of Capsa spoke the truth when they told me how sweet a thing is the service of God. I certainly do not remember that I ever did anything which gave me so much delight and pleasure as I get from putting the devil into hell. I think that everyone is a fool who does anything but serve God."
Thus it happened that she would often go to Rustico, and say:
"Father, I came here to serve God and not to remain in idleness. Let us put the devil in hell."
And once as they were doing it, she said:
"Rustico, I don't know why the devil ever goes out of hell. If he liked to remain there as much as hell likes to recieve and hold him, he would never leave it."
The girl's frequent invitations to Rustico and their mutual pleasures in the service for God so took the stuffing out of his doublet that he he now felt chilly where another man would have been in a sweat. So he told the girl that the devil must not be chastened or put into hell except when pride made him lift his head. "And we," he said, "have so quelled his rage that he prays God to be left in peace." And in this way he silenced the girl for a time. But when she found that Rustico no longer asked her to put the devil in hell, she said one day:
"Rustico, your devil may be chastened and give you no more trouble, but my hell is not. You should therefor quench the raging of my hell with your devil, as I helped you quell the pride of your devil with my hell."
Rustico, who lived on nothing but roots and water, made a poor response to this invitation. He told her that many devils would be needed to soothe her hell, but that he would do what he could. In this way he satisfied her hell a few times, but so seldom that it was like throwing a bean in a lion's mouth. And the girl, who thought they were not serving God as much as she wanted, kept murmuring.
Now, while there was this debate between the excess of desire in Alibech's hell and the lack of potency in Rustico's devil, a fire broke out in Capsa, and burned Alivech's father with all his children and servants. So Alivech became heir to all his property. A young man named Neerbale, who had spent all his money in riotous living, heard that she was still alive and set out to find her, which he succeeded in doing before the Court took over her father's property as that of a man who died without heirs. To Rustico's great relief, but against her will, Neerbale brought her back to Capsa and married her, and together they inherited her large patriomny.
But before Neerbale had lain with her, certain ladies one day asked her how she had served God in the desert. She replied that her service was to put the devil in hell, and that Neerbale had committed a great sin by taking her away from such service. The ladies asked:
"And how do you put the devil in hell?"
Partly in words and partly by gestures, the girl told them. At this they laughed so much that they are still laughing, and said:
"Be not cast down, my child, they know how to do that here, and neerbale will serve the Lord God with you in that way."
As they told it up and down the city, it passed into a proverb that the service most pleasing to god is to put the devil into hell. And this proverb crossed the seas and remains until this day.
Therefore, young ladies, when you seek god's favour, learn to put the devil in hell, because this is most pleasing to god and to all parties concerned, and much good may come of it.
Please note that this story should be rated R18!!!
From Giovanni Boccaccio's
"The Decameron"
Day 3 - Tenth Story
Dioneo had listened closely to the queen's story, and, when it was over and only he remained to tell a story, he did not wait to be commanded, but smilingly began as follows.
Most gracious ladies, perhaps you have never heard how the devil is put into hell; and so, without departing far from the theme upon which you have all spoken today, I shall tell you about it. Perhaps when you have learned it, you also will be able to save your souls, and you may also discover that although love prefers to dwell in gay places and lovely rooms rather than in poor huts, yet he sometimes makes his power felt among thick woods and rugged mountains and desert caves. Whereby we may well perceive that all of us are subject to his power.
Now, to come to my story--in the city of Capsa in Barbary there lived a pretty and charming daughter, named Alivech. She was not a Christian, but she heard many Christians in her native town crying up the Christian Faith and service to God, and one day she asked one of them how a person could most effectively serve God. THe reply was that those best serve God who fly furthest from the things of this world, like the hermits who had departed to the solitudes of the Thebaid Desert.
The girl was about fourteen and very simple minded. Urged by a mere childish entusiasm and not by a well ordered desire, she secretly set out next morning quite alone, without saying a word to anyone, to find the Thebaid Desert. Her enthusiasm lasted several days and enabled her with great fatigue to reach those solitudes. In the distance she saw a little hut with a holy man standing at its entrance. He was amazed to see her there, and asked her what she was seeking. She replied that by God's inspiration she was seeking to serve Him, and begged the hermit to show her the right way to do so. But the holy man saw she was young and pretty, and feared that if he kept her with him he might be tempted of the devil. So he praised her good intentions, gave her some roots and wild apples to eat and some water to drink, and said:
"Daughter, not far from here dwells a holy man who is a far greater master of what you are seeking than i am; go to him."
And so he put her on the way. When she reached him, she was received with much the same words, and passing further on came to the cell of a young hermit named Rustico, to whom she made the same request as to the others. To test his spiritual strength, Rustico did not send her away, but took her into his cell. And when night came, he made her a bed of palm leaves and told her to sleep there.
Almost immediately after this, temptation began the struggle with his spiritual strength, and the hermit found that he had greatly over-estimated his powers of resistance. After a few assaults of the demon he shrugged his shoulders and surrendered. Putting aside holy thoughts and prayers and macerations, he began to think of her beauty and youth, and then pondered how he should proceed with her so that she should not perceive that he obtained what he wanted from her like a dissolute man. First of all he sounded her by certain questions, and discovered that she had never lain with a man and appeared to be very simple minded. He then saw how he could bring her to his desire under pretext of serving God. He began by eloquently showing how the devil is the enemy of the Lord God, and then gave her to understand that the service most pleasing to God is to put the devil back into hell, to which the Lord God has condemned him.
The girl asked how this was done, and Rustico replied:
"You shall soon know. Do what you see me do."
He then threw off the clothes he had and remained stark naked, and the girl imitated him. He kneeled down as if to pray and made her kneel exactly opposite him. As he gazed at her beauty, Rustico's desire became so great that the resurrection of the flesh occured. Alibech looked at it with amazement, and said:
"Rustico, what is that thing I see sticking out in front of you which I haven't got?"
"My daughter," said Rustico, "That is the devil i spoke of. Do you see? He gives me so much trouble at this moment that I can scarcely endure him."
Said the girl:
"Praised be God!" I see I am better off than you are, since I haven't such a devil."
"You speak truly." said Rustico, "but instead of this devil you have something else which I haven't."
"What's that?" said Alibech.
"You've got hell," replied Rustico, "and I believe God sent you here for the salvation of my soul, because this devil gives me great trouble, and if you will take pity upon me and let me put him into hell, you will give me the greatest comfort and at the same time will serve God and please him, since, as you say, you came here for that purpose."
In all good faith the girl replied: "Father, since I have hell in me, let it be whenever you please."
Said rustico: "Blessings upon you my daughter. Let us put him in now so that he will afterwards depart from me."
So saying, he took the girl to one of their beds, and showed her how to lie so as to imprison the thing accursed of God. The girl had never put any devil into her hell and at first felt a little pain, and exclaimed to Rustico:
'O father! This devil must certainly be wicked and the enemy of god, for even when he is put back into hell he hurts it."
"Daughter," said Rustico, "it will not always be so."
To prevent this from happening, Tustico put it into hell six times, before he got off the bed, and so purged the devil's pride that he was glad to rest a little. Thereafter he returned often and the obedient girl was always glad to take him in; and then the game began to give her pleasure, and she said to Rustico:
"I see that the good men of Capsa spoke the truth when they told me how sweet a thing is the service of God. I certainly do not remember that I ever did anything which gave me so much delight and pleasure as I get from putting the devil into hell. I think that everyone is a fool who does anything but serve God."
Thus it happened that she would often go to Rustico, and say:
"Father, I came here to serve God and not to remain in idleness. Let us put the devil in hell."
And once as they were doing it, she said:
"Rustico, I don't know why the devil ever goes out of hell. If he liked to remain there as much as hell likes to recieve and hold him, he would never leave it."
The girl's frequent invitations to Rustico and their mutual pleasures in the service for God so took the stuffing out of his doublet that he he now felt chilly where another man would have been in a sweat. So he told the girl that the devil must not be chastened or put into hell except when pride made him lift his head. "And we," he said, "have so quelled his rage that he prays God to be left in peace." And in this way he silenced the girl for a time. But when she found that Rustico no longer asked her to put the devil in hell, she said one day:
"Rustico, your devil may be chastened and give you no more trouble, but my hell is not. You should therefor quench the raging of my hell with your devil, as I helped you quell the pride of your devil with my hell."
Rustico, who lived on nothing but roots and water, made a poor response to this invitation. He told her that many devils would be needed to soothe her hell, but that he would do what he could. In this way he satisfied her hell a few times, but so seldom that it was like throwing a bean in a lion's mouth. And the girl, who thought they were not serving God as much as she wanted, kept murmuring.
Now, while there was this debate between the excess of desire in Alibech's hell and the lack of potency in Rustico's devil, a fire broke out in Capsa, and burned Alivech's father with all his children and servants. So Alivech became heir to all his property. A young man named Neerbale, who had spent all his money in riotous living, heard that she was still alive and set out to find her, which he succeeded in doing before the Court took over her father's property as that of a man who died without heirs. To Rustico's great relief, but against her will, Neerbale brought her back to Capsa and married her, and together they inherited her large patriomny.
But before Neerbale had lain with her, certain ladies one day asked her how she had served God in the desert. She replied that her service was to put the devil in hell, and that Neerbale had committed a great sin by taking her away from such service. The ladies asked:
"And how do you put the devil in hell?"
Partly in words and partly by gestures, the girl told them. At this they laughed so much that they are still laughing, and said:
"Be not cast down, my child, they know how to do that here, and neerbale will serve the Lord God with you in that way."
As they told it up and down the city, it passed into a proverb that the service most pleasing to god is to put the devil into hell. And this proverb crossed the seas and remains until this day.
Therefore, young ladies, when you seek god's favour, learn to put the devil in hell, because this is most pleasing to god and to all parties concerned, and much good may come of it.
Pictures of the Decameron
These are some interesting images of various translations of the Decameron that have been created over the last 600 years.
You can now read or listen to The Decameron on your I-Pod as of 2009
The Decameron as a movie - made in Italy in 1971
The Decameron 1955
The Decameron 1921
A French edition of the Decameron dated 1757
The Decameron dated 1573
More pages from the 1414 edition of the Decameron
Some pages from The Decameron dated 1414
You can now read or listen to The Decameron on your I-Pod as of 2009
The Decameron as a movie - made in Italy in 1971
The Decameron 1955
The Decameron 1921 
A French edition of the Decameron dated 1757
The Decameron dated 1573
More pages from the 1414 edition of the Decameron
Some pages from The Decameron dated 1414
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
The Stories of the Decameron
The Decameron begins with the flight of 10 young people (7 women and 3 men) from plague-stricken Florence in 1348. They retire to a rich, well-watered countryside, where, in the course of a fortnight, each member of the party has a turn as king or queen over the others, deciding in detail how their day shall be spent and directing their leisurely walks, their outdoor conversations, their dances and songs, and, above all, their alternate storytelling.
This storytelling occupies 10 days of the fortnight (the rest being set aside for personal adornment or for religious devotions); hence the title of the book itself, Decameron, or "Ten Days' Work." The stories thus amount to 100 in all. Each of the days, moreover, ends with a canzone (song) for dancing sung by one of the storytellers, and these canzoni include some of Boccaccio's finest lyric poetry.
Between 1348 and 1353, Boccaccio wrote this famous work: The Decameron. The title itself is Greek and means "10 Days" (Deca-hemeron), but the book is written in Italian. The Decameron is a collection of 100 stories, told by ten storytellers over a ten day period of time. Unlike Dante's Divine Comedy and Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, which were written as poetry, Boccaccio's Decameron is a work in prose.
Although the Decameron is primarily known as a humorous work, the frametale and background is very gloomy! In order to explain why 10 people would get together and tell stories to each other every day, Boccaccio invents a frametale about the Black Death (bubonic plague) which was ravaging Florence at the time that he began writing the Decameron.
Boccaccio borrowed the plots of almost all of his stories. Although he had access to just French, Italian, and Latin sources, some of the tales have their ultimate origin in such far-off lands as India, Persia, Spain, and other places. Moreover, some were already centuries old.
For example, part of the tale of Andreuccio of Perugia (Day II, Story 5) originated in second century Ephesus (in the Ephesian Tale). The frame narrative structure (though not the characters or plot) originates from the Panchatantra, which was written in Sanskrit before 500 AD and came to Boccaccio through a chain of translations that includes Old Persian, Arabic, Hebrew, and Latin.
Even the description of the central current event of the narrative, the Black Plague (which Boccaccio surely witnessed), is not original, but based on the Historia Gentis Langobardorum of Paul the Deacon, who lived in the eighth century.
Because of the horrible devastation caused by this epidemic, Boccaccio tells us that seven noble young women and three noble young men decided to escape to the countryside. They would be safe from the plague there and could spend their time in amusing one another with stories and games and dances.
Many of the stories in the Decameron are extremely humorous, often involving the illicit sexual escapades of monks and their lady lovers. There are also some tragic love stories in the Decameron.
So there are 10 storytellers and each person tells one story each day over 10 days, making 100 stories altogether.
Every story is identified with 2 numbers - the story number and the day number. The stories are always in the same order - the order they were written by Boccaccio.
THE FIRST DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE SECOND DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE THIRD DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE FOURTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE FIFTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE SIXTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE SEVENTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE EIGHTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE NINTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE TENTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
This storytelling occupies 10 days of the fortnight (the rest being set aside for personal adornment or for religious devotions); hence the title of the book itself, Decameron, or "Ten Days' Work." The stories thus amount to 100 in all. Each of the days, moreover, ends with a canzone (song) for dancing sung by one of the storytellers, and these canzoni include some of Boccaccio's finest lyric poetry.
Between 1348 and 1353, Boccaccio wrote this famous work: The Decameron. The title itself is Greek and means "10 Days" (Deca-hemeron), but the book is written in Italian. The Decameron is a collection of 100 stories, told by ten storytellers over a ten day period of time. Unlike Dante's Divine Comedy and Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, which were written as poetry, Boccaccio's Decameron is a work in prose.
Although the Decameron is primarily known as a humorous work, the frametale and background is very gloomy! In order to explain why 10 people would get together and tell stories to each other every day, Boccaccio invents a frametale about the Black Death (bubonic plague) which was ravaging Florence at the time that he began writing the Decameron.
Boccaccio borrowed the plots of almost all of his stories. Although he had access to just French, Italian, and Latin sources, some of the tales have their ultimate origin in such far-off lands as India, Persia, Spain, and other places. Moreover, some were already centuries old.
For example, part of the tale of Andreuccio of Perugia (Day II, Story 5) originated in second century Ephesus (in the Ephesian Tale). The frame narrative structure (though not the characters or plot) originates from the Panchatantra, which was written in Sanskrit before 500 AD and came to Boccaccio through a chain of translations that includes Old Persian, Arabic, Hebrew, and Latin.
Even the description of the central current event of the narrative, the Black Plague (which Boccaccio surely witnessed), is not original, but based on the Historia Gentis Langobardorum of Paul the Deacon, who lived in the eighth century.
Because of the horrible devastation caused by this epidemic, Boccaccio tells us that seven noble young women and three noble young men decided to escape to the countryside. They would be safe from the plague there and could spend their time in amusing one another with stories and games and dances.
Many of the stories in the Decameron are extremely humorous, often involving the illicit sexual escapades of monks and their lady lovers. There are also some tragic love stories in the Decameron.
So there are 10 storytellers and each person tells one story each day over 10 days, making 100 stories altogether.
Every story is identified with 2 numbers - the story number and the day number. The stories are always in the same order - the order they were written by Boccaccio.
THE FIRST DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE SECOND DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE THIRD DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE FOURTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE FIFTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE SIXTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE SEVENTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE EIGHTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE NINTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
THE TENTH DAY
The First Story.
The Second Story.
The Third Story.
The Fourth Story.
The Fifth Story.
The Sixth Story.
The Seventh Story.
The Eighth Story.
The Ninth Story.
The Tenth Story.
The Black Plague
This is what Boccaccio wrote about the Black Plague in the year 1348.
The following excerpt is taken from Boccaccio's The Decameron. It is a detailed description of life in the middle ages, specifically the effects of the Black Death or Bubonic Plague.
I say, then, that the years of the beatific incarnation of the Son of God had reached the tale of one thousand three hundred and forty-eight when in the illustrious city of Florence, the fairest of all the cities of Italy, there made its appearance that deadly pestilence, which, whether disseminated by the influence of the celestial bodies, or sent upon us mortals by God in His just wrath by way of retribution for our iniquities, had had its origin some years before in the East, whence, after destroying an innumerable multitude of living beings, it had propagated itself without respite from place to place, and so, calamitously, had spread into the West.
In Florence, despite all that human wisdom and forethought could devise to avert it, as the cleansing of the city from many impurities by officials appointed for the purpose, the refusal of entrance to all sick folk, and the adoption of many precautions for the preservation of health; despite also humble supplications addressed to God, and often repeated both in public procession and otherwise, by the devout; towards the beginning of the spring of the said year the doleful effects of the pestilence began to be horribly apparent by symptoms that shewed as if miraculous.
Not such were they as in the East, where an issue of blood from the nose was a manifest sign of inevitable death; but in men and women alike it first betrayed itself by the emergence of certain tumours in the groin or the armpits, some of which grew as large as a common apple, others as an egg, some more, some less, which the common folk called gavoccioli. From the two said parts of the body this deadly gavocciolo soon began to propagate and spread itself in all directions indifferently; after which the form of the malady began to change, black spots or livid making their appearance in many cases on the arm or the thigh or elsewhere, now few and large, now minute and numerous. And as the gavocciolo had been and still was an infallible token of approaching death, such also were these spots on whomsoever they shewed themselves. Which maladies seemed to set entirely at naught both the art of the physician and the virtues of physic; indeed, whether it was that the disorder was of a nature to defy such treatment, or that the physicians were at fault--besides the qualified there was now a multitude both of men and of women who practised without having received the slightest tincture of medical science--and, being in ignorance of its source, failed to apply the proper remedies; in either case, not merely were those that recovered few, but almost all within three days from the appearance of the said symptoms, sooner or later, died, and in most cases without any fever or other attendant malady.
Moreover, the virulence of the pest was the greater by reason that intercourse was apt to convey it from the sick to the whole, just as fire devours things dry or greasy when they are brought close to it. Nay, the evil went yet further, for not merely by speech or association with the sick was the malady communicated to the healthy with consequent peril of common death; but any that touched the cloth of the sick or aught else that had been touched or used by them, seemed thereby to contract the disease.
So marvellous sounds that which I have now to relate, that, had not many, and I among them, observed it with their own eyes, I had hardly dared to credit it, much less to set it down in writing, though I had had it from the lips of a credible witness.
(There is more at the link above, but I think that's enough detail for now)
The following excerpt is taken from Boccaccio's The Decameron. It is a detailed description of life in the middle ages, specifically the effects of the Black Death or Bubonic Plague.
I say, then, that the years of the beatific incarnation of the Son of God had reached the tale of one thousand three hundred and forty-eight when in the illustrious city of Florence, the fairest of all the cities of Italy, there made its appearance that deadly pestilence, which, whether disseminated by the influence of the celestial bodies, or sent upon us mortals by God in His just wrath by way of retribution for our iniquities, had had its origin some years before in the East, whence, after destroying an innumerable multitude of living beings, it had propagated itself without respite from place to place, and so, calamitously, had spread into the West.
In Florence, despite all that human wisdom and forethought could devise to avert it, as the cleansing of the city from many impurities by officials appointed for the purpose, the refusal of entrance to all sick folk, and the adoption of many precautions for the preservation of health; despite also humble supplications addressed to God, and often repeated both in public procession and otherwise, by the devout; towards the beginning of the spring of the said year the doleful effects of the pestilence began to be horribly apparent by symptoms that shewed as if miraculous.
Not such were they as in the East, where an issue of blood from the nose was a manifest sign of inevitable death; but in men and women alike it first betrayed itself by the emergence of certain tumours in the groin or the armpits, some of which grew as large as a common apple, others as an egg, some more, some less, which the common folk called gavoccioli. From the two said parts of the body this deadly gavocciolo soon began to propagate and spread itself in all directions indifferently; after which the form of the malady began to change, black spots or livid making their appearance in many cases on the arm or the thigh or elsewhere, now few and large, now minute and numerous. And as the gavocciolo had been and still was an infallible token of approaching death, such also were these spots on whomsoever they shewed themselves. Which maladies seemed to set entirely at naught both the art of the physician and the virtues of physic; indeed, whether it was that the disorder was of a nature to defy such treatment, or that the physicians were at fault--besides the qualified there was now a multitude both of men and of women who practised without having received the slightest tincture of medical science--and, being in ignorance of its source, failed to apply the proper remedies; in either case, not merely were those that recovered few, but almost all within three days from the appearance of the said symptoms, sooner or later, died, and in most cases without any fever or other attendant malady.
Moreover, the virulence of the pest was the greater by reason that intercourse was apt to convey it from the sick to the whole, just as fire devours things dry or greasy when they are brought close to it. Nay, the evil went yet further, for not merely by speech or association with the sick was the malady communicated to the healthy with consequent peril of common death; but any that touched the cloth of the sick or aught else that had been touched or used by them, seemed thereby to contract the disease.
So marvellous sounds that which I have now to relate, that, had not many, and I among them, observed it with their own eyes, I had hardly dared to credit it, much less to set it down in writing, though I had had it from the lips of a credible witness.
(There is more at the link above, but I think that's enough detail for now)
Who was in the Decameron
Tales from the DecameronPainted by John William Waterhouse
Year - 1916
The Decameron begins with the flight of 10 young people (7 women and 3 men) from plague-stricken Florence in 1348. They retire to a rich, well-watered countryside, where, in the course of a fortnight, each member of the party has a turn as king or queen over the others, deciding in detail how their day shall be spent and directing their leisurely walks, their outdoor conversations, their dances and songs, and, above all, their alternate storytelling.
This storytelling occupies 10 days of the fortnight (the rest being set aside for personal adornment or for religious devotions); hence the title of the book itself, Decameron, or "Ten Days' Work." The stories thus amount to 100 in all. Each of the days, moreover, ends with a canzone (song) for dancing sung by one of the storytellers, and these canzoni include some of Boccaccio's finest lyric poetry.
In addition to the 100 stories, Boccaccio has a master theme, namely, the way of life of the refined bourgeoisie, who combined respect for conventions with an open-minded attitude to personal behaviour.
The Brigata from the Decameron Web
There has been much discussion concerning the significance of the names Boccaccio has given to his narrators - allegorical representations of the seven virtues, symbols of other moral qualities, or just characters that have populated Boccaccio's earlier works.
Pampinea
Pampinea, the eldest of the seven lady narrators at twenty-seven years of age, is the natural leader among them. In Italian her name means "la rigogliosa" which could be translated as "the flourishing one." It was her suggestion for the group to move to the countryside and her initiative that brought the three men into their plans. In return, she was made Queen of the first day.
Filomena
Neifile
Neifile seems to represent a certain Ghibelline sensibility within the brigata, regularly favoring authority figures (fathers, guardians, masters, podestà, kings and so on). This attitude is reflected as well in her perspective on the duty to respect one's ruler or superior (sons, daughters, servants, wives, knights, et al.) in particular and to revere the ordered and established societal institutions and traditions (hierarchy of power in family, clan and country) in general.
Fiammetta
Several scholars of Boccaccio like to believe that the Fiammetta of the brigata was based upon a real woman, Maria d'Aquino, with whom Boccaccio fell in love. "Fiammetta" is a recurring character in a number of Boccaccio's works (e.g., The Filocolo and L'elegia di Madonna Fiammetta ) and is generally described in consistent terms: "[her hair] is so blonde that the world holds nothing like it; it shades a white forehead of noble width, beneath which are the curves of two black and most slender eyebrows ... and under these two roguish eyes ... cheeks of no other colour than milk."
In the Decameron, Fiammetta is one of the most assertive women. She often engages Filostrato and others in competitive storytelling about the nature of love. She is a clever, independent and resourceful woman who admires these same qualities in others. Fiammetta often tells stories about tricksters and delights in tales about strong female characters.
Elissa
The first glimpse of Elissa's character comes in the Introduction of the First Day in which Pampinea has suggested to the other women her plan for fleeing the city in order in an attempt to save their own lives and to return to a somewhat ordered and rational existence. Filomena agrees that this is a good idea but she believes since they are all women and, by nature, "fickle, quarrelsome, suspicious, cowardly, and easily frightened," they will never succeed in their venture.
It is here that Elissa speaks up: she agrees that women are unsuited and unable to act without male guidance but, she wonders, where will they find suitable male companions. She fears for the safety of the group and is concerned about any possible scandal related to traveling with a group of men.
It has been said that Elissa represents either "hope" (Kirkham) or "justice" (Ferrante) and also that she is very young and dominated by a violent passion. Paden suggests that she is the sole recognizable Ghibelline of the group
Lauretta
Lauretta, the name given by Boccaccio to one of the female narrators, implies Justice. The defining characteristic of Lauretta is the way in which that Justice is meted out. In her world view, women should obey men.
Lauretta serves as a vocal reminder of the male dominance of medieval society. She counters the novellas of the "empowered" members of the brigata with tales grounded in the brutal realities of their society. On her day as Queen, she responds to Dioneo's transgressive theme. As ruler of the Seventh day, Dioneo requested stories regarding the tricks which women play on their husbands. These stories clash directly with conventional gender roles and social orders, which dictate that women never should cross their husbands. Having listened to the tales, Dioneo then presents the crown to Lauretta, practically taunting her to respond to his theme's attack upon the traditional power structure.
Emilia
On the first day, Queen Pampinea, granting Dioneo's request to tell whatever story he pleases and, in exchange, to be the last storyteller of each day, reflects that "if the company should grow weary of hearing people talk, he could enliven the proceedings with some story that would move them to laughter" (First Day, Conclusion).
Similarly, on the Ninth Day, Queen Emilia reinforces the micro-society's laws by suggesting that storytellers rest from the restraints of a proposed topic. She compares the storytellers to "oxen" and comments: "I consider that it would be both appropriate and useful for us to wander at large for a while, and in so doing recover the strength for returning once again beneath the yoke" (Eighth Day, Conclusion). As in the case of Dioneo, Emilia's "transgression" ultimately encourages a strengthening of the micro-society's structure.
Filostrato
Dioneo
In his introduction to I.4, the first story he tells, Dioneo expresses the opinion "that each must be allowed [...] to tell whatever story we think most likely to amuse." Consequently he will be granted the privilege not to follow the theme of the day and to tell instead the story that most pleases him, regardless of its consonance or dissonance with the others told in that day. In exchange, he will be the last of the ten narrators to tell a story. This positioning is significant because it is meant not to interfere with the pattern developed in a given day; on the contrary, Dioneo's privilege grants him a role of transgressor while at the same time, as an exception, reinforces the (narrative) rule that governs the Decameron.
Panfilo
Panfilo is in love with love, in love with joy. Though it would at first appear that Panfilo is in the brigata simply to fulfill the slap-happy-fool-in-love role, a second look at his novelle reveals another side of Panfilo. Panfilo repeatedly emphasizes the need to look deeper into the stories of the brigata by presenting characters and situations which hide their true nature. Indeed, Panfilo acts as an almost direct voice of Boccaccio, in that he reminds us that the Decameron is not simply a collection of entertaining stories. It is Boccaccio's intention that we look deeper into the stories of the Decameron, so that it becomes a vehicle from which "useful advice" can be gleaned.
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