Joy

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From The Decameron (1353)

  To this assertion nobody offered any reply, but they all waited to discover what he was going to say next. Niccoluccio, along with one or two others and the lady herself, dissolved into tears; but Messer Gentile rose to his feet, took the tiny infant in his arms, and, leading the lady by the hand, walked up to Niccoluccio, saying: ‘Stand up now, my friend: I shall not restore your wife to you, for she was cast out by your kinsfolk and her own; but I wish to present you with this lady, together with her little child, of whom you are assuredly the father, though I am his godfather, and when I held him at his christening I named him Gentile. Nor should you cherish her any the less for having spent the best part of three months under my roof; for I swear to you in the name of God (who possibly willed that I should fall in love with her so that my love would be the instrument of her deliverance) that she never led a more upright existence with her parents or with you yourself than the life she has lived here in this house under my mother’s care.’ He then turned to the lady and said: ‘I now release you, my lady, from every promise you gave me, and hereby deliver you to Niccoluccio.’ And having left the lady and the child with Niccoluccio, he returned to his place. Niccoluccio received his wife and son eagerly in his arms, his joy being all the greater for being so totally unexpected, and thanked Messer Gentile to the best of his power and ability. This touching scene moved all the other guests to tears, and they were full of praise for Messer Gentile, as indeed were all those who came to hear of his story. The lady was welcomed home amid scenes of great rejoicing, and for a long time afterwards the people of Bologna regarded her with awe as someone who had returned from the dead. And as for Messer Gentile, for the rest of his life he remained a close friend of Niccoluccio as well as of the families of both Niccoluccio and his wife.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  When he had eaten and warmed himself at the fire, having given them an account of his misfortunes and explained how it was that he came to be wandering alone through the forest, he asked them whether there was any village or township thereabouts to which he might go. The shepherds replied that some three miles away there was a castle belonging to Liello di Campo di Fiore, and that Liello’s wife was at present living there. Overjoyed, Pietro asked whether any of the shepherds would guide him as far as the castle, and two of them volunteered to do so. On reaching the castle, Pietro met various people he knew, and whilst he was trying to arrange for them to go out and search for the girl in the forest, he was told that Liello’s wife wanted to see him. He promptly answered her summons, and on finding that she had Agnolella with her, he was the happiest man that was ever born. He was positively longing to take her in his arms, but was too embarrassed to do so in the presence of the lady. And if his own joy knew no bounds, the girl was no less delighted on seeing him. The noble lady took him in and made him very welcome, and having heard the tale of his adventures from his own lips, she spoke to him severely for attempting to defy the wishes of his kinsfolk. But on seeing that he was quite unrepentant, and that the girl was eager to marry him, she said to herself: ‘Why should I go to all this trouble? They are in love, they understand one another, both are friends of my husband, and their intentions are honourable. Besides, it seems to me that they have God’s blessing, for one of them has been saved from being hanged, the other from being killed by a lance, and both of them from being devoured by wild beasts. So let them do as they wish.’ She therefore turned to them, and said: ‘If you have really set your hearts on becoming husband and wife, so be it; you shall have my blessing, the wedding can be celebrated here at Liello’s expense, and after you are married you can safely leave it to me to make peace between you and your kinsfolk.’ So there they were married, and Pietro’s enormous joy was only surpassed by that of Agnolella. The noble lady gave them as splendid a wedding as could possibly be arranged in her mountain retreat, and it was there that they tasted the first exquisite fruits of their love. Some days later, guarded by a powerful escort, they returned with the lady on horseback to Rome, where, on finding that Pietro’s kinsfolk were greatly angered by what he had done, she succeeded in restoring him to their good graces. And afterwards, he and Agnolella lived to a ripe old age in great peace and happiness.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  He then saw to it that the precious jewels were left in a safe place, after which he gave an account to the Abbot of all that had so far happened to him. The Abbot, delighted with Messer Torello’s good fortune, joined with him in giving thanks to God, after which Messer Torello asked the Abbot the name of his wife’s second husband; and the Abbot told him. Then Messer Torello said: ‘Before my return is made public, I mean to find out how my wife comports herself at these nuptials; so although it is not the custom for the religious to attend such a banquet as this, I want you to arrange, for my sake, that we should be present.’ The Abbot readily agreed; and soon after daybreak he sent a message to the bridegroom, saying that he wished to bring a friend to the nuptials, to which the gentleman replied that he would be very glad to see them. When the hour for the banquet arrived, Messer Torello went with the Abbot, in the clothes in which he was standing, to the bridegroom’s house, being stared at in amazement by everyone who saw him, but recognized by none. The Abbot told everyone that Torello was a Saracen whom the Sultan had dispatched to the King of France as his envoy. Messer Torello was accordingly placed at a table directly facing his lady, whom he gazed upon in rapturous delight, at the same time thinking that she wore a troubled look on account of these nuptials. Every so often, she returned his gaze, not because she had the slightest idea who he was (for his long beard, his strange attire, and her conviction that he was dead made this impossible), but by virtue of the extraordinary clothes he was wearing. But when he felt that the time had come to put her memory of him to the test, Messer Torello took hold of the ring which the lady had given him on the day of his departure, and, sending for a young man who was waiting upon her, he said to him: ‘Tell the bride, with my compliments, that in our country, whenever any stranger such as myself attends a bridal feast such as hers, it is the custom for her to send him the cup from which she is drinking, filled with wine, to signify her pleasure at his coming. When the stranger has consumed his fill, he

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Hearing them talk in this fashion, Calandrino concluded that he must have picked up the stone without knowing it, and that because of its special powers they were unable to see him, even though he was standing just a few yards away. He therefore decided, being delighted with his good fortune, to go back home; and without saying anything to the others, he turned about and started to return by the way he had come. On seeing this, Buffalmacco turned to Bruno and said: ‘What’ll we do now? Why don’t we go home, the same as he did?’ ‘Come on then,’ Bruno replied. ‘But I swear to God that I won’t fall for any more of Calandrino’s tricks. If he were as close to me now as he’s been all morning, I’d give him such a rap on the heels with this pebble that he wouldn’t forget this little hoax of his for the best part of a month.’ No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he took aim and caught Calandrino squarely on the heel with the pebble, whereupon Calandrino, grimacing with pain, jerked his foot high in the air and began to puff and gasp for breath. But he none the less managed to hold his tongue, and continued on his way. Then Buffalmacco took between his fingers one of the stones he had collected earlier, and said to Bruno: ‘D’you see this nice sharp bit of flint? How I’d love to send it whizzing into Calandrino’s back!’ He then let it go, and it caught Calandrino a nasty blow in the small of the back. But to cut a long story short, they kept stoning Calandrino in this fashion, making various abusive remarks, all the way back along the Mugnone to the Porta San Gallo, where, having thrown away the rest of the stones they had collected, they paused to chat with the customs guards. These latter, having been let into the secret beforehand, had allowed Calandrino to pass unchallenged, and were splitting their sides with laughter. Calandrino walked on without stopping until he reached his house, which was situated near the Canto alla Macina, and Fortune favoured the hoax to such an extent that at no point along his route, either beside the river or in the city streets, did anyone address a single word to him, though as a matter of fact he encountered very few people because nearly everyone was at breakfast. Calandrino let himself into the house, staggering under his burden, but as luck would have it, his wife, a handsome-looking gentlewoman called Monna Tessa, was standing at the head of the stairs; and as she was somewhat annoyed with him for staying out so long, no sooner did she catch sight of him than she began to scold him, saying: ‘A fine fellow you are, I must say, coming home to breakfast when everyone else has finished eating. Where the devil have you been?’

• From The Decameron (1353)

  FIFTH STORY Messer Forese da Rabatta and Master Giotto, the painter, returning from Mugello, poke fun at one another’s disreputable appearance. The ladies were highly amused by Chichibio’s reply, and in deference to the queen’s wishes, as soon as Neifile had stopped, Panfilo began: Dearest ladies, whilst it is true that Fortune occasionally conceals abundant treasures of native wit in those who practise a humble trade, as was demonstrated just now by Pampinea, it is equally true that Nature has frequently planted astonishing genius in men of monstrously ugly appearance. This was plainly to be observed in two citizens of ours, about whom I now propose to say a few words. The first, who was called Messer Forese da Rabatta, 1 being deformed and dwarf-like in appearance, with a plain snub-nosed face that would have seemed loathsome alongside the ugliest Baronci 2 who ever lived, was a jurist of such great distinction that many scholars regarded him as a walking encyclopaedia of civil law. The second, whose name was Giotto, 3 was a man of such outstanding genius that there was nothing in the whole of creation that he could not depict with his stylus, pen, or brush. And so faithful did he remain to Nature (who is the mother and the motive force of all created things, via the constant rotation of the heavens), that whatever he depicted had the appearance, not of a reproduction, but of the thing itself, so that one very often finds, with the works of Giotto, that people’s eyes are deceived and they mistake the picture for the real thing. Hence, by virtue of the fact that he brought back to light an art which had been buried for centuries beneath the blunders of those who, in their paintings, aimed to bring visual delight to the ignorant rather than intellectual satisfaction to the wise, his work may justly be regarded as a shining monument to the glory of Florence. And all the more so, inasmuch as he set an example to others by wearing his celebrity with the utmost modesty, and always refused to be called a master, even though such a title befitted him all the more resplendently in proportion to the eagerness with which it was sought and usurped by those who knew less than himself or by his own pupils. But for all the greatness of his art, neither physically nor facially was he any more handsome than Messer Forese. Turning now to our story, I should first point out that both Messer Forese and Giotto owned properties in the region of Mug-ello. 4 And one summer, when the law courts were closed for the vacation, Messer Forese had gone to visit this property of his, and was returning to Florence astride an emaciated old hack, when whom should he meet up with along the road but the aforementioned Giotto, who was likewise returning from a visit to his property.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Without saying anything by way of reply, he began to look upon his wife as a model of intelligence and virtue. And just as he had worn the mantle of the jealous husband when it was unnecessary, he cast it off completely now that his need for it was paramount. So his clever little wife, having, as it were, acquired a licence to enjoy herself, no longer admitted her lover by way of the roof as though he were some kind of cat, but showed him in at the front door. And from that day forth, by proceeding with caution, she spent many an entertaining and delightful hour in his arms.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  When they saw the Count at his meal, they all gathered round and made a fuss of him, as though impelled by some mysterious instinct which told them that this was their grandfather. Knowing them to be his grandchildren, the old man began to show them his affection and fondle them, with the result that the children were unwilling to come away, however much their tutor cajoled and threatened them. Hearing the commotion, Jeannette left the room she was in, came to where the Count was sitting, and spoke sharply to the children, threatening to chastise them if they did not obey their tutor’s instructions. The children began to cry, protesting that they wanted to stay with this worthy fellow who loved them more than their tutor, whereupon the lady and the Count smiled broadly at one another. The Count had risen to his feet, not in the manner of a father greeting his daughter but rather in the role of a pauper paying his respects to a fine lady, and as soon as he set eyes upon her, his heart was filled with a marvellous joy. But she never suspected for a moment who he was, either then or later, for he was thin and elderly-looking, and what with his beard, his greying hair and his dark complexion, he no longer seemed the same person. But on seeing how reluctant the children were to be parted from the old man, and how dismally they wailed whenever any attempt was made to dislodge them, the lady told

• From The Decameron (1353)

  After cavorting with her lover till the early hours of the morning, the lady said: ‘What do you think of this scholar, my darling? Which would you say was the greater: his wisdom, or my love for him? Will the cold I am causing him to suffer dispel the coldness that entered your heart when I spoke of him in jest to you the other day?’ ‘But of course, my precious,’ replied the lover. ‘Now I can see quite clearly that you care for me as deeply as I care for you, who are the true source of my well-being, my repose and my delight, and the haven of all my desires.’ ‘Then give me a thousand kisses at least,’ said the lady, ‘so that I may see whether you are telling me the truth.’ Whereupon, clasping her firmly to his bosom, her lover kissed her, not a thousand times, but more than a hundred thousand. But after they had billed and cooed in this fashion for a while, the lady said: ‘Come, let’s get up and see whether those flames, in which this weird lover of mine was always claiming to be consumed, show any sign of abating.’ They accordingly got up and returned once more to the window and on looking down into the yard, they saw the scholar performing a sort of eightsome reel in the snow, for which the sound of his chattering teeth provided the backing. And because of the extreme cold, he was moving his feet at such a furious pace that they had never seen a dance to compare with it. ‘What do you say to that, my sweetheart?’ said the lady. ‘Don’t you think it clever of me to make men dance without the aid of trumpets or bagpipes?’ ‘I do indeed, my darling,’ replied her lover, shaking with laughter. Then the lady said: ‘Let’s go down to the door leading into the courtyard. You keep quiet while I talk to him, and we’ll hear what he has to say. Perhaps it will be just as funny as it is to stand here and watch him.’ And so, having tiptoed out of the bedroom, they crept downstairs to the countryard-door, and without opening it by so much as a fraction of an inch, the lady called out to the scholar in a low voice, through a tiny crack in die door. On hearing her summons, the scholar gave thanks to God, wrongly concluding that she was about to let him in. And walking across to the door, he said: ‘Here I am, my lady. Open up for the love of God, for I’m freezing to death.’ ‘Ah yes, you must be very cold,’ said the lady. ‘But can it really be so chilly as all that out there, simply because it’s been snowing a little? It snows a great deal harder in Paris, or so I’ve been told.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  For they found that the garden was liberally stocked with as many as a hundred different varieties of perfectly charming animals, to which they all started drawing each other’s attention. Here were some rabbits emerging from a warren, over there hares were running, elsewhere they could observe some deer lying on the ground, whilst in yet another place young fawns were grazing. And apart from these, they saw numerous harmless creatures of many other kinds, roaming about at leisure as though they were quite tame, all of which added greatly to their already considerable delight. When, however, they had wandered about the garden for some little time, sampling its various attractions, they instructed the servants to arrange the tables round the fountain, and then they sang half-a-dozen canzonets and danced several dances, after which, at the queen’s command, they all sat down to breakfast. Choice and dainty dishes, exquisitely prepared, were set before them in unhurried succession, and when they rose from table, merrier than when they had started, they turned once more to music, songs and dancing. Eventually, however, as the hottest part of the day was approaching, the queen decided that those who felt so inclined should take their siesta. Some of them accordingly retired, but the rest were so overwhelmed by the beauty of their surroundings that they remained where they were and whiled away their time in reading romances or playing chess or throwing dice whilst the others slept. But a little after nones, they all went and refreshed their faces in cool water before assembling, at the queen’s request, on the lawn near the fountain, where, having seated themselves in the customary manner, they began to await their turn to tell a story on the topic the queen had proposed. The first of their number to whom she entrusted this office was Filostrato, who began as follows:

• From The Decameron (1353)

  But as I have never known you to oppose my wishes, I now intend, being persuaded that you can offer me all the happiness I desired, to restore to you in a single instant that which I took from you little by little, and delectably assuage the pains I have inflicted upon you. Receive with gladsome heart, then, this girl whom you believe to be my bride, and also her brother. These are our children, whom you and many others have long supposed that I caused to be cruelly murdered; and I am your husband, who loves you above all else, for I think I can boast 9 that there is no other man on earth whose contentment in his wife exceeds my own.’ Having spoken these words, he embraced and kissed Griselda, who by now was weeping with joy; then they both got up from table and made their way to the place where their daughter sat listening in utter amazement to these tidings. And after they had fondly embraced the girl and her brother, the mystery was unravelled to her, as well as to many of the others who were present. The ladies rose from table in transports of joy, and escorted Griselda to a chamber, where, with greater assurance of her future happiness, they divested her of her tattered garments and clothed her anew in one of her stately robes. And as their lady and their mistress, a rôle which even in her rags had seemed to be hers, they led her back to the hall, where she and Gualtieri rejoiced with the children in a manner marvellous to behold. Everyone being delighted with the turn that events had taken, the feasting and the merrymaking were redoubled, and continued unabated for the next few days. Gualtieri was acknowledged to be very wise, though the trials to which he had subjected his lady were regarded as harsh and intolerable, whilst Griselda was accounted the wisest of all. The Count of Panago returned a few days later to Bologna, and Gualtieri, having removed Giannùcole from his drudgery, set him up in a style befitting his father-in-law, so that he lived in great comfort and honour for the rest of his days. As for Gualtieri himself, having married off his daughter to a gentleman of renown, he lived long and contentedly with Griselda, never failing to honour her to the best of his ability. What more needs to be said, except that celestial spirits may sometimes descend even into the houses of the poor, whilst there are those in royal palaces who would be better employed as swineherds than as rulers of men? Who else but Griselda could have endured so cheerfully the cruel and unheard of trials that Gualtieri imposed upon her without shedding a tear?

• From The Decameron (1353)

  ‘Tell my lady that she is not to worry on my account until it is convenient for her to come. But tell her to come as soon as she can.’ The maid closed the window and retired to bed, whereupon the lady said to her lover: ‘What do you say to that, my dearest? Do you think I’d keep him out there freezing to death if I cared for him, as you suspect?’ Her lover’s doubts were by now almost totally dispelled, and she got into bed with him, where they disported themselves merrily and rapturously for hours on end, laughing and making fun of the hapless scholar. The scholar was walking up and down the courtyard to keep himself warm, and since there was nowhere for him to sit down or take shelter, he kept cursing the lady’s brother for tarrying so long with her. Whenever he heard a sound, he thought it must be the lady opening a door to let him in, but his hopes were dashed every time. After cavorting with her lover till the early hours of the morning, the lady said: ‘What do you think of this scholar, my darling? Which would you say was the greater: his wisdom, or my love for him? Will the cold I am causing him to suffer dispel the coldness that entered your heart when I spoke of him in jest to you the other day?’ ‘But of course, my precious,’ replied the lover. ‘Now I can see quite clearly that you care for me as deeply as I care for you, who are the true source of my well-being, my repose and my delight, and the haven of all my desires.’ ‘Then give me a thousand kisses at least,’ said the lady, ‘so that I may see whether you are telling me the truth.’ Whereupon, clasping her firmly to his bosom, her lover kissed her, not a thousand times, but more than a hundred thousand. But after they had billed and cooed in this fashion for a while, the lady said: ‘Come, let’s get up and see whether those flames, in which this weird lover of mine was always claiming to be consumed, show any sign of abating.’ They accordingly got up and returned once more to the window and on looking down into the yard, they saw the scholar performing a sort of eightsome reel in the snow, for which the sound of his chattering teeth provided the backing. And because of the extreme cold, he was moving his feet at such a furious pace that they had never seen a dance to compare with it. ‘What do you say to that, my sweetheart?’ said the lady. ‘Don’t you think it clever of me to make men dance without the aid of trumpets or bagpipes?’ ‘I do indeed, my darling,’ replied her lover, shaking with laughter. Then the lady said:

• From The Decameron (1353)

  But she was weeping bitterly, and so he poured out a stream of endearments in an attempt to console her, and when night descended, having come to the conclusion that he had been wasting his time all day with words, he turned to comforting her with deeds, for he was not the sort of man to pay any heed to calendars, and he had long since forgotten about feasts and holy days. So effective were the consolations he provided, that before they had reached Monaco, 6 the judge and his laws had faded from the lady’s memory, and life with Paganino was a positive joy. And after he had brought her to Monaco, in addition to consoling her continuously night and day, Paganino treated her with all the respect due to a wife. When, some time afterwards, information reached Messer Ricciardo of his lady’s whereabouts, he was passionately resolved to go and fetch her in person, being convinced that he alone could handle the affair with the necessary tact. He was quite prepared to pay whatever ransom was demanded, and took ship for Monaco, where he caught sight of her soon after his arrival. But she had seen him, too, and that same evening she warned Paganino and informed him of her husband’s intentions. Next morning, Messer Ricciardo saw Paganino and engaged him in conversation, losing no time in getting on friendly and familiar terms with him, while Paganino, pretending not to know who he was, waited to see what he was proposing to do. At the earliest opportunity, Messer Ricciardo disclosed the purpose of his visit as concisely and politely as he could, then asked Paganino to hand the lady over, naming whatever sum he required by way of ransom. ‘Welcome to Monaco, sir,’ replied Paganino, smiling broadly. ‘And as to your request, I will answer you briefly, as follows. It is true that I have a young lady in my house, but I couldn’t say whether she is your wife or some other man’s wife, for I do not know you, and all I know about the lady is that she has been living with me for some time. I have taken a liking to you, however, and since you appear to be honest, I will take you to see her, and if you are indeed her husband, as you claim to be, she will no doubt recognize you. If she confirms your story and wants to go with you, you are such an amiable sort of fellow that I am content to leave the amount of the ransom to your own good judgement. But if your story isn’t true, it would be dishonest of you to try and deprive me of her, for I am a young man and no less entitled than anyone else to keep a woman, especially this one, for she is the nicest I ever saw.’ ‘Of course she is my wife,’ said Messer Ricciardo.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  unable to bestow higher praise upon the place than that which they had already accorded to it, feeling that it was time to make their way back again, they set forth at a gentle pace, talking all the while of its beauty. It was as yet quite early when they arrived at the palace, where they found the young men still playing dice in the place where they had left them, and Pampinea greeted them with a laugh, saying: ‘We have stolen a march upon you today.’ ‘What?’ said Dioneo. ‘Do you mean to say you have begun to do these things even before you talk about them?’ ‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ said Pampinea. And she gave him a lengthy description of the place from which they had come, telling him how far away it was, and what they had been doing there. On hearing her account of the place’s beauty, the king was anxious to see it for himself, and he straightway ordered supper to be served. This they all proceeded to eat with a great deal of relish, and when it was over, the three young men and their servants deserted the ladies and made their way to the Valley. None of them had been there before, and all things considered, they concluded admiringly that it was one of the loveliest sights in the world. And when they had bathed and dressed, since the hour was very late they went straight back home, where they found the ladies dancing a carole 3 to an air being sung by Fiammetta. They joined them in the dance, and when it was finished, having taken up the subject of the Valley of the Ladies, they talked at length in praise of its beauty. And so the king sent for the steward, and ordered him to see that things were set out for them next morning in that very place, and that beds were carried there in case anyone should want to sleep or lie down in the middle part of the day. Then he called for lights to be brought, together with wine and sweetmeats, and when they had taken a little refreshment, he ordered everyone to join in the dancing. At his request, Panfilo began the first dance, whereupon the king turned to Elissa and in pleasing tones he said: ‘Fair lady, just as you honoured me today with the crown, so I wish to honour you this evening with the privilege of singing to us. Sing to us therefore, and let your song be about the one you prefer to all the rest.’ Elissa, with a smile, readily consented and began to sing in dulcet tones as follows: ‘Love, if I ever from thy claws break free I think no other hook will tangle me. ‘I entered in thy war, a fair young maid, Believing it was perfect peace benign, And all my arms upon the ground I laid, Thinking to find thy honour like to mine. But thou, disloyal tyrant, Leapt’st out at me instead In armour fiercely girded With talons cruel outspread. ‘And now, all bound around with chains of thine, To him who for my very death was born Thou gav’st me prisoner; and now I pine Within his grasp, and in distraction mourn. His lordship is so cruel That all my tears and cries Go unregarded, while, alas, I waste away with sighs. ‘The wind has swept away my every prayer; E’en now, when my cruel torment grows so high, None listens to them, none will give them ear; My life is hateful, yet how may I die? Since I lie in thy bondage Have pity, Lord, on me, Do for me what I cannot And set my spirit free. ‘But if thou canst not grant me this, alas, Cut all those bonds of hope that bind me fast. I pray thee, Lord, at least to grant me this, For if thou dost, my faith is that at last I may regain that beauty That once I had by right And, sorrow banished, deck me With flowers of red and white.’ 4 When Elissa, fetching a most pathetic sigh, had brought her song to a close, albeit everyone puzzled over the words no one was able to say who it was that had caused her to sing such a song. The king, however, who was in good mettle, sent for Tindaro and ordered him to bring out his cornemuse, 5 to the strains of which he caused several reels to be danced. But when a goodly portion of the night was spent, he told them, one and all, to retire to bed. Here ends the Sixth Day of the Decameron

• From The Decameron (1353)

  replaces the lid of the wine-cup, and the bride drinks up the remainder.’ The youth conveyed this message to the lady, who, displaying her wonted tact and courtesy, supposing him to be some great panjandrum, hastened to show him that she held his presence dear. And she ordered that a large golden cup, which stood on the table before her, should be rinsed and filled with wine and taken to the gentleman. Messer Torello, having meanwhile placed her ring in his mouth, drank in such a way as to let it fall into the cup without anyone having noticed. Leaving no more than a modicum of wine in the cup, he replaced the lid and returned it to the lady. Then the lady took hold of the cup, removed the lid, raised it to her lips to complete the ritual, and caught sight of the ring, which she inspected closely for a while without saying a word. Identifying the ring as the one she had given to Messer Torello at his departure, she picked it up and fixed her gaze upon the so-called stranger. And now that she could see who it was, she overturned the table at which she was sitting, as though she had gone berserk, and cried out: ‘This is my lord; this truly is Messer Torello!’ She then ran over to the table where Messer Torello was sitting, and, heedless of the drapery and the other things lying upon it, she flung herself bodily forward and clasped him firmly in her embrace; nor could she be detached from around his neck, no matter what anyone present said or did, until she was told by Messer Torello to curb her feelings a little as she would have all the time in the world to embrace him afterwards. She accordingly stood up straight, and although by now the wedding-feast was in total disarray, the return of so valiant a knight gave rise to greater rejoicing than ever. But then, at Messer Torello’s request, everyone was silent as he narrated the story of all his adventures from the day of his departure, ending up by saying that the gentleman who, believing him to be dead, had married his wife, could hardly take it amiss, since he was really alive, if he claimed her as his own. The bridegroom, though somewhat embarrassed, freely and amiably replied that Messer Torello was at liberty to dispose in whatever way he pleased of that which was rightfully his own. So the lady restored to the bridegroom the ring and the crown he had given her, and in their place she wore the ring she had taken from the wine-cup, and the crown sent to her by the Sultan. They then went forth from the bridegroom’s house, and made their way, with all the pomp of a nuptial procession, to the house of Messer Torello, where there was no end to the rejoicing of his sorrowing friends and relatives and of the townspeople in general, who looked upon his return as nothing short of a miracle. After giving away some of his precious gems to the gentleman who had borne the expense of the wedding-feast, as well as to the Abbot and to various other people, Messer Torello informed Sala-din, through more than a single messenger, of his felicitous return to Pavia, declaring himself to be his friend and servant. And for many years thereafter, he lived with his admirable lady, comporting himself more courteously than ever. This, then, was how the trials of Messer Torello and his beloved wife were brought to an end, and how they were rewarded for their prompt and cheerful acts of courtesy. Many are those who attempt to perform such deeds, who, though they possess the wherewithal, are so inept in carrying them out that before they are finished they cost the recipient more than they are worth. So that if their deeds do not redound to their credit, neither they nor others should have any reason to marvel.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  The Sultan next commanded that Ambrogiuolo should instantly be taken to some upper part of the city, tied to a pole in the sun, smeared with honey, and left there until he fell of his own accord; and this was done. He then decreed that all of Ambrogiuolo’s possessions, which amounted in value to more than ten thousand doubloons, should be handed over to the lady. And for his own part, he put on a splendid feast, at which Bernabò, being Lady Zinevra’s husband, and the most excellent Lady Zinevra herself were the guests of honour. And in addition he presented her with jewels, gold and silver plate, and money, all of which came to a further ten thousand doubloons in value. He meanwhile commissioned a ship to be specially fitted out for their use, and once the feast held in their honour was concluded, he gave them leave to return to Genoa whenever it suited their purpose. And when they sailed into Genoa, weak with joy and laden with riches, a magnificent welcome awaited them, especially Lady Zinevra, whom everyone had thought to be dead. And thereafter, for as long as she lived, she was held in high esteem and regarded as a paragon of virtue. As for Ambrogiuolo, on the very day that he was tied to the pole and smeared with honey, he was subjected to excruciating torments by the mosquitoes, wasps and horseflies which abound in that country, and not only was he slain, but every morsel of his flesh was devoured. Hanging by their sinews, his whitened bones remained there for ages without being moved, an eloquent testimony of his wickedness to all who beheld them. And thus it was that the dupe outwitted his deceiver.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  She had already heard about the rebellion in Sicily, and on learning that Arrighetto was alive, she abandoned her former fear and told him the whole story, explaining her reasons for the action she had taken. On finding that the nurse’s account corresponded exactly with that of Currado’s emissary, Messer Guasparrino began to take her story seriously. Being a very astute man, he took various steps to have it thoroughly checked, becoming more and more convinced of its veracity with every scrap of new evidence he discovered. Ashamed at having treated the boy so contemptuously, he made amends by bestowing a wife on him in the person of his pretty little eleven-year-old daughter, together with a huge dowry, for he was well aware of Arrighetto’s past and present fame. After celebrating the event in great style, he embarked, along with the youth, his daughter, Currado’s emissary, and the nurse, on a well-armed galliot, and sailed for Lerici, 10 where he was met by Currado. Then, with the whole of his company, he proceeded to one of Currado’s castles, not very far from there, where the great wedding-feast was about to be held. The general rejoicing, whether that of the mother on seeing her son again, or that of the two brothers, or that with which all three greeted the faithful nurse, or that displayed by everyone towards Messer Guasparrino and his daughter and vice versa, or that of the whole company in the presence of Currado, his lady, his children and his friends, would be impossible to describe in words. And thus I leave it, ladies, to your imagination. But to crown it all, the Lord God, whose generosity knows no bounds once it is set in motion, arranged things so that news should arrive that Arrighetto was alive and in good health. For amid the great rejoicing, when the guests, men and women, were still seated round the tables, having proceeded no further than the first course, Currado’s other emissary returned from Sicily. Amongst other things, he narrated how Arrighetto had been held prisoner in Catania on the orders of King Charles, and how, after the country’s insurrection against the King, the people had stormed the prison, killing his gaolers and setting him free. Since he was King Charles’s bitterest opponent, they had then elected him their leader and joined him in pursuing and killing the French. For this reason, he had achieved a high reputation in the eyes of King Peter, who had reinstated him in all his possessions and titles. And so he now enjoyed a position of great honour and authority. The messenger added that Arrighetto had welcomed him very warmly, being overjoyed beyond description to hear about his wife and son, of whom he had received no news since the time of his capture. He was in fact sending a brigantine with some gentlemen aboard, to come and fetch them, and they were due to arrive at any moment.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  So he wrapped them up as carefully as he could in some old rags, told the woman that if she liked, she could keep the chest, since he no longer had any use for it, and asked her to let him have a sack in exchange. The good woman gladly complied with his request, and after he had thanked her profusely for the assistance she had rendered, he slung his sack over his shoulder and went on his way, first taking a boat to Brindisi and then making his way gradually up the coast as far as Trani, where he met some cloth-merchants who hailed from his native town. Without mentioning the chest, he gave them an account of all his adventures, and they felt so sorry for him that they fitted him out with new clothes, lent him a horse, and sent him back with company to Ravello, whither he was intent on returning at all costs. Secure at last in Ravello, he gave thanks to God for leading him safely home, untied his little sack, and made what was virtually his first real inspection of its contents. The stones he possessed were, he discovered, so valuable and numerous, that even if he sold them at less than their market value, he would be twice as rich as when he had set out. So that, having taken steps to dispose of his gems, he sent, by way of payment for services received, a tidy sum of money to the good woman of Corfu who had fished him out of the sea. And likewise, he sent a further sum to the people at Trani who had given him the new clothes. He was no longer interested in commerce, so he kept the remainder of the money and lived in splendour for the rest of his days.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  I have been teased so many times, and by so many of you, for obliging you to tell cruel stories and making you weep, that I feel obliged to make some slight amends for the sorrow I caused, and tell you something that will make you laugh a little. Hence I propose to tell you a very brief tale about a love which, apart from one or two sighs and a moment of fear not unmixed with embarrassment, ran a smooth course to its happy conclusion. Not long ago then, excellent ladies, there lived in Romagna a most reputable and virtuous gentleman called Messer Lizio da Valbona,1 who, on the threshold of old age, had the good fortune to be presented by his wife, Madonna Giacomina, with a baby daughter. When she grew up, she outshone all the other girls in those parts for her charm and beauty, and since she was the only daughter left to her father and mother, they loved and cherished her with all their heart, and guarded her with extraordinary care, for they had high hopes of bestowing her in marriage on the son of some great nobleman. Now, to the house of Messer Lizio there regularly came a handsome and sprightly youth called Ricciardo de’ Manardi da Brettinoro, with whom Messer Lizio spent a good deal of his time; and he and his wife would no more have thought of keeping him under surveillance than if he were their own son. Whenever he set eyes on the girl, Ricciardo was struck by her great beauty, her graceful bearing, her charming ways and impeccable manners, and, seeing that she was of marriageable age, he fell passionately in love with her. He took great pains to conceal his feelings, but the girl divined that he was in love with her, and far from being offended, to Ricciardo’s great delight she began to love him with equal fervour. Though frequently seized with the longing to speak to her, he was always too timid to do so until one day, having chosen a suitable moment, he plucked up courage and said to her: ‘Caterina, I implore you not to let me die of love for you.’ ‘Heaven grant,’ she promptly replied, ‘that you do not allow me to die first for love of you.’ Ricciardo was overjoyed by the girl’s answer, and, feeling greatly encouraged, he said to her: ‘Demand of me anything you please, and I shall do it. But you alone can devise the means of saving us both.’ Whereupon the girl said: ‘Ricciardo, as you see, I am watched very closely, and for this reason I cannot think how you are to come to me. But if you are able to suggest anything I might do without bringing shame upon myself, tell me what it is, and I shall do it.’ Ricciardo turned over various schemes in his mind, then suddenly he said:

• From The Decameron (1353)

  When, therefore, he had recited a hundred of his paternosters, he came to a stop, and without leaving his post, he called out to his wife and demanded to know what she was doing. His wife, who had a talent for repartee, and who at that moment was possibly riding bareback astride the nag of Saint Benedict or Saint John Gualbert, 4 replied: ‘Heaven help me, dear husband, I am shaking like mad.’ ‘Shaking?’ said Friar Puccio. ‘What is the meaning of all this shaking?’ His wife shrieked with laughter, for she was a lively, energetic sort of woman, and besides, she was probably laughing for a good reason. ‘What?’ she replied. ‘You don’t know its meaning? Haven’t I heard you saying, hundreds of times: “He that supper doth not take, in his bed all night will shake”?’ Since she had already given him the impression that she was fasting, Friar Puccio readily assumed this to be the cause of her sleeplessness, which in turn accounted for the way she was tossing and turning in bed. ‘Wife,’ he replied, in all innocence, ‘I told you not to fast, but you would insist. Try not to think about it. Try and go to sleep. You’re tossing about so violently in the bed that you’re shaking the whole building.’ ‘Don’t worry about me,’ said his wife. ‘I know what I’m doing. Just you keep up the good work, and I’ll try and do the same.’ So Friar Puccio said no more, but turned his attention once again to his paternosters. From that night onward, Master Monk and the lady made up a bed in another part of the house, in which they cavorted to their hearts’ content until the time came for the monk to leave, when the lady would return to her usual bed, being joined there shortly afterwards by Friar Puccio as he staggered in from his penance. Thus, while the Friar carried on with his penance, his wife carried on with the monk, pausing now and then to deliver the same merry quip: ‘You make Friar Puccio do penance, but we are the ones who go to Paradise.’ The lady was of the opinion that she had never felt better in her life, and having been compelled to diet by her husband for so long, she acquired such a taste for the monk’s victuals that when Friar Puccio reached the end of his long penance, she found a way of banqueting with the monk elsewhere. And for a long time thereafter, she continued discreetly to enjoy such repasts. To return to my opening remarks then, this was how it came about that Friar Puccio did penance with the intention of reaching Paradise, to which on the contrary he sent both the monk, who had shown him how to get there quickly, and his wife, who shared his house but lived in dire need of something which Master Monk, being a charitable soul, supplied her with in great abundance.

• From Apprenticed to Venus: My Secret Life with Anaïs Nin (2017)

  “No,” I said weakly. He stopped and, sitting on the edge of the cot, leaned down to kiss me. I responded, lost in his musk of exertion, Gitanes, and French cologne. His fingers traced my arms and his lips softly brushed mine. I’d expected, because he was French, that he would put his tongue in my mouth, which I didn’t like when the boys my age tried it. But Jean-Jacques just kept touching his lips to mine tenderly, and I responded with the same light touch. When, after a long, dreamy time his tongue entered my mouth, it wasn’t slobbery or pushy at all. Unwrapping himself from me gently, he stood up, looked at me, bent to place a finger to my lips, then quickly removed his slacks. He was wearing gray satin shorts, sort of like a prizefighter’s, but smaller, and in the dim light I saw a horizontal tent protruding in the front of them. Only then did I realize his intentions. “I’m a virgin,” I said, my voice so faint I wondered if he’d heard. He must have, for after a moment’s pause, he said, “I respect that. Don’t worry.” He carefully folded his slacks and laid them on one of Lenore’s worktables. He unbuttoned his shirt so it fell open but he did not remove it. He stood over me, shorts still on, and lowered himself so he was sitting next to me on the rollaway bed. He attempted to raise my slip again, and this time I helped him by lifting my weightless arms, inhaling my own bouquet of sweat and deodorant. He deftly unfastened and removed my bra, watching me in the light of the streetlamp shining through the high loft windows. He touched my breasts with a kind of reverence, then kissed them. I was floating, enjoying, without the fear I’d always felt when boys I made out with wanted to go farther. The nuns had indoctrinated me so well that I was terrified of sex, yet that night I could not find my fear and didn’t want to.