Sadness

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)

  Eventually he arrived in Wales, where there was another of the King’s marshals, a man who lived in great style and kept a large number of servants, and to this man’s castle the Count, either by himself or with his son, would frequently go in order to obtain something to eat. There were several children at the castle, of whom some belonged to the Marshal himself and others were the sons of the local gentry, and whilst they were competing with each other in children’s sports, like running and jumping, Perrot began to mix with them, performing equally as well or better than any of the others in every game they played. His prowess attracted the attention of the Marshal, who, taking a great liking to the child’s manner and general behaviour, demanded to know who he was. On being told that he was the son of a pauper who sometimes came into the castle begging for alms, the Marshal sent someone to ask whether he could keep him; and although it distressed him to part with the child, the Count, who was praying that such a thing might happen, willingly handed him over. Now that both his son and his daughter were well bestowed, the Count decided to tarry no longer in England. So he crossed the sea to Ireland as best he could and eventually arrived at Strangford, 3 where he entered the service of one of the feudatories of a rural baron, performing all the usual tasks of a groom or a servant. And there he remained for many years, unrecognized by anyone, and compelled to endure great hardship and discomfort. Meanwhile, Violante, who was now called Jeannette, was being brought up by the gentlewoman in London, becoming a great favourite, not only of the lady and her husband, but of everyone else in the house and indeed of all those who knew her, and as she grew up she became so beautiful that she was a marvel to behold. Nor could anyone deny, on observing how impeccably she comported herself, that she deserved all the honour and blessings that her future might bring. Since receiving the girl from her father, the gentlewoman had never succeeded in discovering anything about him apart from what he had told her, and she now decided that the time had come for her to estimate the girl’s rank as best she could, and find her a suitable husband. But knowing her to be a woman of gentle birth, doing penance for another’s sin through no fault of her own, the Lord above, who rewards all according to their deserts, arranged matters otherwise. One must in fact conclude that He alone, out of His loving kindness, made possible the train of events which followed, in order to prevent this nobly-born maiden from falling into the hands of a commoner.

• From The Pisces (2018)

  Seeing Claire’s insanity made me realize I was probably doing the right thing by being back in group. She could have a harem of a thousand studs, but the truth was there would never be enough to fill her need for attention—for devotion. That hole was bottomless. It was never-ending. She wanted their devotion, but should one of them—even one of the ones she liked most, like David—want her to commit, it would be over instantly. If he became obsessed with her, really fell in love, asked her to move in, she would grow tired of him in about a month. Maybe even less than a month. When I looked at Claire I saw that there was no human who could do that for us. Fill the hole. That was the sad part of Sappho’s spaces. Where there had been something beautiful there before, now they were blank. Time erased all. That was the part nobody could handle. Some people tried to shove things in them: their own narratives, biographical crap. I was pretending that nothing had ever been there in the first place, so that I wouldn’t feel the hurt of its absence. I wanted to be immune to time, the pain of it. But pretending didn’t make it so. Everything dissolved. No one really wanted satiety. It was the prospect of satiety—the excitement around the notion that we could ever be satisfied—that kept us going. But if you were ever actually satisfied it wouldn’t be satisfaction. You would just get hungry for something else. The only way to maybe have satisfaction would be to accept the nothingness and not try to put anyone else in it. When I left Claire, I blocked Garrett in my phone. I also deleted the Tinder app. Then I went to Whole Foods and bought myself an expensive array of ingredients: a cod fillet, little clams, good olive oil, a bottle of white wine, black truffles, shallots, chanterelles. I finally bought Dominic the ingredients for his turkey, pea, and zucchini dish. Even though I’m not a great cook, we were going to have a little feast. First I stewed up his mess. I loved watching him eat, how absorbed in it and unselfconscious he was, gobbling quickly and getting right to the point. I loved the sounds he made with his black lips and pink tongue, all sloppy and smacking, totally engrossed in his meal. Occasionally he would stop midbowl, still chewing, and glance at me sideways for a moment as if to say, What are you looking at? I’m just eating. We all do it, you know. Then I cooked the fillet and clams in the wine and oil, browning the mushrooms and shallots to a crisp. It was delicious. I drank the rest of the wine and sat down with my Sappho.

• From A History of Christianity (1976)

  later nearly all of them were dead. They left very few children. There is some evidence that childbirth was less risky in Outremer than in western Europe. But Frankish children did not live long, and the death-rate among males was particularly heavy. Many Frankish couples seem to have proved completely sterile. Thus Frankish settler- families tended to die out after a generation or two. In the twelfth century there was a second, then a third, wave of settlers. These, too, were decimated. There was no continuous process of reinforcing emigration, as the West learned to develop in the seventeenth century when populating America. Most of the intending emigrants were too poor. They could just about afford the land-route, where they could live off charity, but it was never made secure. The sea-route, run by Venice, Genoa and other Italian city-states, was too expensive for most. Those going by sea had to sleep on their chests, which also served as their coffins if they died. Each had a space six feet by two, marked in chalk. The conditions were horrific; even so, few could afford the fare. Why did not the maritime states develop cheaper forms of mass-transport? The answer is that they preferred to engage in highly lucrative trading, thus adumbrating the colonial merchant adventurer companies which developed in the late sixteenth century. They made huge profits shipping arms to the Moslems: in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries weapons were the Christians’s chief exports to their ideological enemies. They also ran the Egyptian slave-trade on behalf of the Moslems. By comparison, ferrying Christian emigrants to make the colonies viable brought a poor yield. Of course the Church itself, out of its huge resources, should have financed emigration. But the idea does not seem to have occurred to it, any more than the idea of creating missionary orders, to achieve by the word what the knights were manifestly failing to achieve by the sword. The whole crusading movement was dogged by intellectual bankruptcy. Among the Outremer barons and their docile clergy there was nothing which could conceivably be called an intellectual élite. Nor had they any economic contribution to make. They made no attempt to introduce a Cistercian-style pioneer farming order. Most of the land continued to be farmed by Moslems, whose surpluses were then milked by the Latin baronage. Thus Outremer was chronically short of cash; it ran at a huge deficit, which had to be supplied by the West. This evoked growing criticism. Matthew Paris, for instance, claimed that the Hospitallers alone possessed 19,000 manors in Europe. This was untrue, but it is clear that it took a large landed investment in the West to keep even one knight in action in the Holy Land. Despite their wealth, the two main military orders could never

• From Available: The unfiltered and empowering new memoir for women about sex, dating and divorce after 40 (2021)

  It has been cathartic, allowing me to sort out my feelings as I put them into words on my computer screen or into the Wonder Woman Moleskine notebook #6 bought me, and my friends who work in publishing have told me they think it could be a book. I want nothing more than to take my heap of messy emotions and even messier dating stories and smooth them out, craft them together into a cohesive narrative, but the thought of revealing myself so publicly and outing Michael’s indiscretion are roadblocks I can’t get past. When they come back a few minutes later, Georgia holds up her coconut for me victoriously and puts the straw into my mouth so I can take a sip. “Look at Mama with her bunny hairdo and big sunglasses and tropical bikini,” Michael says. Georgia eyes me, then shrugs her shoulders. “She looks fine, I guess.” “What do you mean, she looks fine?” he continues. “You should feel proud that you have such a pretty mommy!” Georgia eyes me skeptically and then hands me her coconut so she can jump in the pool. I am perplexed by Michael, unable to decide if he simply forgets that we aren’t a couple anymore, or if he remembers but doesn’t feel that should stop him from doling out compliments. I remember when I first met him, how I found his tendency to blurt out unsolicited opinions to be refreshing at times, disconcerting at others. It’s not that I don’t appreciate any and all compliments, but the way he says this now, so adoringly, is a painful reminder of how I once felt so cherished by him. It had seemed to me from our very beginning together that he was smitten with me; I cannot for the life of me figure out when that stopped being the case. “I’m worried about Blaze,” he says as he plops himself down on the double-wide chaise longue I am sprawled across. “He wasn’t himself this morning, he was kind of subdued.” I am mid-swallow when he says this and I start coughing, the thin coconut milk coming back up my throat. He looks at me quizzically and when I catch my breath, I suggest that maybe Blaze was just tired. “It was weird. You know how he always has so much energy and gets excited to do his whole coconut machete show for Georgia? He looked sad, kind of sedated,” he says. “I wouldn’t worry. It may turn out he’s simply human like the rest of us and is having an off day,” I say, trying to play it cool as questions race through my mind. Could I have worn him out? Could he be feeling guilty? Does he wish last night hadn’t happened? Hudson jumps in the pool to join Georgia and they play their usual games, which involve a combination of shrieking, laughter and, eventually, tears.

• From Available: The unfiltered and empowering new memoir for women about sex, dating and divorce after 40 (2021)

  One night as we lounge in my friend Alexandra’s living room with a bottle of Prosecco after putting the kids to sleep, I ask her 80-year-old mom how she first met her husband fifty years earlier. He has recently passed away after a long illness, and I think it might be cathartic for her to talk about him in his younger and healthier years. “I lived in a decrepit walk-up on St. Mark’s Place and one day I bumped into this guy who had just spilled groceries all over the hallway. He had brought them for a friend but it was pouring out and the bag had gotten wet and ripped and his friend wasn’t home, but he couldn’t just leave the food in the hallway, so he gave it to me. We started talking and he invited me to a party that was being thrown by his friend, an artist named Stephen who lived uptown with his girlfriend. I went and there was this interesting group of artists and writers who threw parties all the time. I became close with them over the next few months. One day, I heard loud banging on my door and when I opened it, Stephen was there, looking wretched. He rushed in and said he couldn’t wait another minute to tell me that he was in love with me. Well, I was in love with him too but he lived with his girlfriend, who had become my friend. He said he had to be with me and was going home to get his things and would come back to stay with me.” I think sadly of the unnamed girlfriend, knowing well what it feels like when the love you rely on is redirected to another woman. “To spend the night or to move in with you?” I asked. “To move in, because he couldn’t stay with the girlfriend once he told her about me. So he left to go back uptown,” she continues. “Wait, so he comes, declares his love for you, you say yes same and then he just leaves?” I ask. “Yes, I guess so,” she says. “You didn’t sleep with him first? This man appears at your door, you admit your feelings for each other and then nothing else?” I ask dubiously. “I guess I slept with him,” she says contemplatively. Alexandra and I howl with laughter. I ask if she’s being coy or if she really can’t recall. “OK fine, I slept with him. But then he left and was supposed to come right back and he didn’t. He was gone for hours. I was crushed but of course I had no way to reach him because I couldn’t call his apartment. I assumed he had decided to stay with his girlfriend. Well, he finally appeared and do you know where he had been?” she asks. “Outside on the street collecting his things after his girlfriend threw them out the window?”

• From Anxious: Using the Brain to Understand and Treat Fear and Anxiety (2015)

  98 Seldom do both considerations go into discussions of animal consciousness. Signs of cognition and intelligent behavior are often simply interpreted as evidence that animals are conscious and have feelings similar to our own. For example, in the introduction to The Inner World of Farm Animals 99 by Amy Hatkoff, the esteemed primatologist Jane Goodall writes: “Farm animals feel pleasure and sadness, excitement and resentment, depression, fear, and pain. They are far more aware and intelligent than we ever imagined . . . they are individuals in their own right.” 100 And in a 2013 interview, Goodall said she had seen many examples of compassion, altruism, calculation, communication, and even some form of conscious thought; she concluded that animals “show emotions similar to those we describe in ourselves.” 101 She speaks with authority when she generalizes from behavior to conscious thought and feelings, but how does she really know what animals experience? Animals certainly act in ways that show they can solve complex problems inside their heads (they behave intelligently), and it goes without saying that each animal is, as Goodall noted, an individual. But scientific practice, at least in my view, cautions us, in the absence of rigorous and compelling evidence, to avoid the attribution of conscious feelings to animals on the basis of our intuition, no matter how strong, that animals should have such feelings. 102 It also goes without saying that the lack of compelling scientific evidence that animals have the kinds of states that we experience as fear, love, joy, sadness, and so forth does not in any way justify their callous or abusive treatment, whether for research, recreational, cosmetic, or nutritional purposes. The treatment of animals in research and in society at large is today held to a high standard by the laws of the United States and many other countries. The assumption underlying these laws, that animals do have feelings, is based on a particular ethical position adopted by our society rather than on scientific data. So long as philosophers, scientists, and the public recognize the difference (that different considerations underlie ethical and scientific conclusions), the integrity of both societal values and science can be preserved. 103 Whether animals are conscious ultimately depends on how consciousness is defined. I will discuss this in more detail in later chapters, but animals are obviously conscious in the sense that, when awake, they are alert and behaviorally responsive to meaningful stimuli. The key issue is whether they are conscious in a mental state way. One problem is that in animals it is very difficult to distinguish a behavioral response controlled by a nonconscious cognitive (mental) process from one that depends upon conscious awareness.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  The grave, comely house would not know her any more, nor the garden where she had heard the cuckoo with the dawning understanding of a child, nor the lakes where she had kissed Angela Crossby for the first time—full on the lips as a lover. The good, sweet-smelling meadows with their placid cattle, she was going to leave them; and the hills that protected poor, unhappy lovers—the merciful hills; and the lanes with their sleepy dog-roses at evening; and the little, old township of Upton-on-Severn with its battle-scarred church and its yellowish river; that was where she had first seen Angela Crossby. . . . The spring would come sweeping across Castle Morton, bringing strong, clean winds to the open common. The spring would come sweeping across the whole valley, from the Cotswold Hills right up to the Malverns; bringing daffodils by their hundreds and thousands, bringing bluebells to the beech wood down by the lakes, bringing cygnets for Peter the swan to protect; bringing sunshine to warm the old bricks of the house—but she would not be there any more in the spring. In summer the roses would not be her roses, nor the luminous carpet of leaves in the autumn, nor the beautiful winter forms of the beech trees: ‘And on evenings in winter these lakes are quite frozen, and the ice looks like slabs of gold in the sunset, when you and I come and stand here in the winter. . . .’ No, no, not that memory, it was too much—‘when you and I come and stand here in the winter. . . .’ Getting up, she wandered about the room, touching its kind and familiar objects; stroking the desk, examining a pen, grown rusty from long disuse as it lay there; then she opened a little drawer in the desk and took out the key of her father’s locked bookcase. Her mother had told her to take what she pleased—she would take one or two of her father’s books. She had never examined this special bookcase, and she could not have told why she suddenly did so. As she slipped the key into the lock and turned it, the action seemed curiously automatic. She began to take out the volumes slowly and with listless fingers, scarcely glancing at their titles. It gave her something to do, that was all—she thought that she was trying to distract her attention.

• From Adam, Eve, and the Serpent (1988)

  Augustine, in his debate with Julian, contrasts actual human experience with an imaginative reconstruction of our lost Paradise—human life as he believes it “ought to be,” a condition in which women experience painless childbearing and enjoy marriage without oppression or coercion.15 But now Eve is under punishment, for God had said to her, “I will greatly multiply your pains in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children, yet your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you” (Genesis 3:16). As a result, Augustine says, women suffer the nausea, illness, and pains of pregnancy as well as the painful contractions of parturition that accompany normal labor. Many women experience the greater agonies of miscarriage, or “tortures inflicted by doctors, or the shock and loss of giving birth to an infant stillborn or moribund.”16 According to Augustine, these sufferings are not natural, but prove that nature itself, as we now experience it, is diseased: Nature, which the first human being harmed, is miserable.… What passed to women was not the burden of Eve’s fertility, but of her transgression. Now fertility operates under this burden, having fallen away from God’s blessing.17 As woman’s fertility brings involuntary suffering, so also does sexual desire: the blight of male domination has fallen upon the whole structure of sexual relationships.18 In their dealings with men, as in the pains they suffer with their children, women experience the consequences of the fall. Augustine catalogues these sufferings like a man who has felt and witnessed them: some babies, he says, are born blind, deaf, deformed, or without the use of their limbs; and others are born into such other forms of human suffering as demonic insanity or chronic and fatal disease. Even the fortunate ones, the children born normal and healthy, Augustine says, evince the terrifying vulnerability that pervades nature: every infant is born ignorant, wholly subject to passions and sensations, bereft of reason or articulate speech, entirely helpless.19 As Eve’s sin brought suffering upon women, Adam’s sin brought suffering upon men, according to Genesis 3:17–19: Cursed is the ground because of you; in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life; thorns and thistles it shall bring forth to you; and you shall eat the plants of the field. In the sweat of your face you shall eat bread till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

• From A History of Christianity (1976)

  and greed, redeemed by occasional flashes of imagination and charity. We have a copy of the first address by the original twelve Franciscans: ‘We do not seek gold, silver or precious stones: we seek only your health.’ Some Indians were baptized immediately after submission. Papal efforts to restrict defective ceremonies of baptism were failures. The catechism process was rudimentary. Moreover, we have an episcopal edict of 1539 forbidding missionaries to beat Indians with rods, or imprison them with irons, ‘to teach them the Christian doctrine’. In Mexico there were six main languages and many minor ones, none of which the missionaries spoke at first. One witness, Munoz Camargo, says they pointed to the earth, fire, toads and snakes to suggest Hell, raised their eyes to Heaven, then spoke of a single God. More systematic conversion was attempted by seizing children, teaching them at missionary schools, and then using them as interpreters and proselytes. The Aztecs were polytheists, practising human sacrifice and, in some areas, ritual cannibalism; but there were also points of comparison with Christianity – their chief god was born of a virgin, they ate pastry images of him twice a year, they had forms of baptism and confession, and a compass-point cross. Yet there was no attempt to build on these foundations, contrary to early Christian practice and, indeed, to the instructions of Gregory the Great. From the time of Juan de Zumarraga, first Bishop of Mexico, a great destroyer of religious antiquities, a systematic attempt was made to erase all trace of pre-Christian cults. Writing in 1531, he claimed that he personally had smashed over 500 temples and 20,000 idols. (It is true, of course, that temples were sometimes used as fortresses.) Little resistance is recorded. Some idols were taken away and hidden, and Indians refused to reveal them even under torture. But there is only one case in which they seem to have argued with the missionaries on theological grounds, defending their own religion. Usually they retreated to more remote areas, and only when this was impossible did they stage revolts. In settled areas, they were liable to prosecution by the Holy Office for concubinage, bigamy or heresy. Thus a chief was accused in 1539 of concubinage and idolatry; arms and idols were found in his house; and his ten-year-old son, as often happened in Inquisition trials, gave evidence against him. The chief, Ometochtzin, known as ‘Don Carlos Mendoza’, said in his deposition that the various orders of friars and seculars had different dress and rules; that everyone had his own way of life; so had the Indians, and they should not be obliged to give it up; he also argued that many Spaniards were drunkards and scoffed at religion. He was condemned to death.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  Staupitz held fast to the unity of the Catholic Church and was intimidated and repelled by the excesses of the Reformation. In a letter of April 1, 1524,131 he begs Luther’s pardon for his long silence and significantly says in conclusion: "May Christ help us to live according to his gospel which now resounds in our ears and which many carry on their lips; for I see that countless persons abuse the gospel for the freedom of the flesh.132 Having been the precursor of the holy evangelical doctrine, I trust that my entreaties may have some effect upon thee." The sermons which he preached at Salzburg since 1522 breathe the same spirit and urge Catholic orthodoxy and obedience.133 His last book, published after his death (1525) under the title, "Of the holy true Christian Faith," is a virtual protest against Luther’s doctrine of justification by faith alone and a plea for a practical Christianity which shows itself in good works. He contrasts the two doctrines in these words: "The fools say, he who believes in Christ., needs no works; the Truth says, whosoever will be my disciple, let him follow Me; and whosoever will follow Me, let him deny himself and carry my cross day by day; and whosoever loves Me, keeps my commandments .... The evil spirit suggests to carnal Christians the doctrine that man is justified without works, and appeals to Paul. But Paul only excluded works of the law which proceed from fear and selfishness, while in all his epistles he commends as necessary to salvation such works as are done in obedience to God’s commandments, in faith and love. Christ fulfilled the taw, the fools would abolish the law; Paul praises the law as holy and good, the fools scold and abuse it as evil because they walk according to the flesh and have not the mind of the Spirit."134 Staupitz withdrew from the conflict, resigned his position, 1520, left his order by papal dispensation, became abbot of the Benedictine Convent of St. Peter in Salzburg and died Dec. 28, 1524) in the bosom of the Catholic church which he never intended to leave.135 He was evangelical, without being a Protestant.136 He cared little for Romanism, less for Lutheranism, all for practical Christianity. His relation to the Reformation resembles that of Erasmus with this difference, that he helped to prepare the way for it in the sphere of discipline and piety, Erasmus in the sphere of scholarship and illumination. Both were men of mediation and transition; they beheld from afar the land of promise, but did not enter it. § 23. The Victory of Justifying Faith. (Comp. § 7.) The secret of Luther’s power and influence lies in his heroic faith. It delivered him from the chaos and torment of ascetic self-mortification and self- condemnation, gave him rest and peace, and made him a lordly freeman in Christ, and yet an obedient servant of Christ.

• From A History of Christianity (1976)

  evolved from Livingstone’s trading organization – and through the projected railway, was the power most closely involved, the Protestants felt the obligation to protest against royal depravity fell on them; at any rate, that is what they did. Thus the royal house came to fear the Protestants, and to align itself with the Catholics (and, on occasion, with the Moslems). Both Christian groups built up parties, which armed themselves. The climax came under Mutesa’s heir, Mwanga. In 1885 he had James Hannington, an Anglican bishop, speared to death; and when Christian boys refused to submit to his sodomitic practices – learnt from the Arabs, so the missionaries claimed – he murdered thirty-two of them, three being roasted alive. From the coast, Captain Lugard and a detachment of Askaris were summoned; and in 1892 they fought, and won, the so-called Battle of Mengo against the royalists and their Catholic allies. The event took place perhaps appropriately on a Sunday, and was decided by Lugard’s new Maxim gun. He did not blame the missionaries, but the Africans (probably rightly): ‘My own belief was that the Baganda were par excellence the greatest liars of any nation or tribe I had met or heard of, and that it appeared to be a point of honour that each side should out-lie the others, especially to their missionaries.’ In the House of Commons, Sir Charles Dilke said that the only person who had benefited from the British presence in East Africa was Mr Hiram Maxim; and Sir William Lawson claimed that Uganda was being ‘turned into the Belfast of Africa’. Two years later, Anglican pressure led Britain to take Uganda into protective custody. The Mengo affair caused great scandal at the time, but largely among agnostics and professional anti-Christians. It does not seem to have damaged the image of any of the Christian sects among the Africans; on the contrary, Catholics and Protestants alike reported an increase in converts; and it was a Baganda, Canon Apolo Kivebulaya of Kampala Cathedral, who translated the Gospel of St Mark into pidgin. Indeed, it is a curious and perhaps melancholy fact that violence seems nearly always to have stimulated Christian evangelism. Thus, from 1835 in Madagascar, the native Christians were ferociously persecuted by Queen Ranavalona for more than a quarter of a century. At least two hundred were killed, by being thrown over a cliff, burned alive or scalded to death in pits. But during this time the Christians increased four-fold, and eventually reached forty per cent of the population. It was, with variations, the same story all over the world. Despite difficulties, Christianity appeared to have made advances everywhere during the second half of

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Being determined that the affair should leave no stain upon the reputation either of themselves or of their sister, he decided that they must pass it over in silence and pretend to have neither seen nor heard anything until such time as it was safe and convenient for them to rid themselves of this ignominy before it got out of hand. Abiding by this decision, the three brothers jested and chatted with Lorenzo in their usual manner, until one day they pretended they were all going off on a pleasure-trip to the country, and took Lorenzo with them. They bided their time, and on reaching a very remote and lonely spot, they took Lorenzo off his guard, murdered him, and buried his corpse. No one had witnessed the deed, and on their return to Messina they put it about that they had sent Lorenzo away on a trading assignment, being all the more readily believed as they had done this so often before. Lorenzo’s continued absence weighed heavily upon Lisabetta, who kept asking her brothers, in anxious tones, what had become of him, and eventually her questioning became so persistent that one of her brothers rounded on her, and said: ‘What is the meaning of this? What business do you have with Lorenzo, that you should be asking so many questions about him? If you go on pestering us, we shall give you the answer you deserve.’ From then on, the young woman, who was sad and miserable and full of strange forebodings, refrained from asking questions. But at night she would repeatedly utter his name in a heart-rending voice and beseech him to come to her, and from time to time she would burst into tears because of his failure to return. Nothing would restore her spirits, and meanwhile she simply went on waiting. One night, however, after crying so much over Lorenzo’s absence that she eventually cried herself off to sleep, he appeared to her in a dream, pallid- looking and all dishevelled, his clothes tattered and decaying, and it seemed to her that he said: ‘Ah, Lisabetta, you do nothing but call to me and bemoan my long absence, and you cruelly reprove me with your tears. Hence I must tell you that I can never return, because on the day that you saw me for the last time, I was murdered by your brothers.’ He then described the place where they had buried him, told her not to call to him or wait for him any longer, and disappeared. Having woken up, believing that what she had seen was true, the young woman wept bitterly. And when she arose next morning, she resolved to go to the place and seek confirmation of what she had seen in her sleep.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  But in return for my virginity, which I brought to you and cannot retrieve, I trust you will at least allow me, in addition to my dowry, to take one shift away with me.’ Gualtieri wanted above all else to burst into tears, but maintaining a stern expression he said: ‘Very well, you may take a shift.’ All the people present implored Gualtieri to let her have a dress, so that she who had been his wife for thirteen years and more would not have to suffer the indignity of leaving his house in a shift, like a pauper; but their pleas were unavailing. And so Griselda, wearing a shift, barefoot, and with nothing to cover her head, having bidden them farewell, set forth from Gualtieri’s house and returned to her father amid the weeping and the wailing of all who set eyes upon her. Giannùcole, who had never thought it possible that Gualtieri would keep his daughter as his wife, and was daily expecting this to happen, had preserved the clothes she discarded on the morning Gualtieri had married her. So he brought them to her, and Griselda, having put them on, applied herself as before to the menial chores in her father’s house, bravely enduring the cruel assault of hostile Fortune. No sooner did Gualtieri drive Griselda away, than he gave his subjects to understand that he was betrothed to a daughter of one of the Counts of Panago. 7 And having ordered that grandiose preparations were to be made for the nuptials, he sent for Griselda and said to her:

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Like them, I too intend to command that a song should be sung, and since I am sure that your songs will be no less gloomy than your stories, I desire that you should choose one and sing it to us now, so that no day other than this will be blighted by your woes.’ Filostrato replied that he would be only too willing to obey, and launched immediately into a song, the words of which ran as follows: ‘With fitting tears, I show The mourning heart bereaved, Its faith in Love deceived. ‘Love, who first fixed into my heart She for whom now I sigh in vain, You showed me her so full of grace That I held light each bitter pain Which came to torment me So everlastingly. I know my error now; Not without grief, I vow. ‘I comprehend that false deceit And see how, while I thought that she Seemed to allow my love, she’d found Another servant, spurning me. Ah, then I could not see My future misery! But she the other took And me for him forsook. ‘A mournful song swelled through my heart When I perceived that I was spurned, That dwells there still; and oft I curse Faith, hope, love and the hour I learned Her noble beauteousness Whose radiance doth oppress My dying soul, which yet Cannot those charms forget.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Even if Paganino leaves me (and he seems to have no such intention, provided I want to stay), I would never come back to you in any case, because if you were to be squeezed from head to toe there wouldn’t be a thimbleful of sauce to show for it. Life with you was all loss and no gain as far as I was concerned, so if there were to be a next time, I would be trying my luck elsewhere. Once and for all, then, I repeat that I intend to stay here, where there are no holy days and no vigils. And if you don’t clear off quickly I shall scream for help and claim you were trying to molest me.’ On seeing that the situation was hopeless, and realizing for the first time how foolish he had been to take a young wife when he was so impotent, Messer Ricciardo walked out of the room, feeling all sad and forlorn, and although he had a long talk with Paganino, it made no difference whatever. And so finally, having achieved precisely nothing, he left the lady there and returned to Pisa, where his grief threw him into such a state of lunacy that whenever people met him in the street and put any question to him, the only answer they got was: ‘There’s never any rest for the bar.’ 8 Shortly afterwards he died, and when the news reached Paganino, knowing how deeply the lady loved him, he made her his legitimate wife. And without paying any heed to holy days or vigils or observing Lent, they worked their fingers to the bone and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. So it seems to me, dear ladies, that our friend Bernabò, by taking the course he pursued with Ambrogiuolo, was riding on the edge of a precipice. * * * This story threw the whole company into such fits of laughter that there was none of them whose jaws were not aching, and the ladies unanimously agreed that Dioneo was right and that Bernabò had been an ass. But now that the tale was ended, the queen waited for the laughter to subside, and then, seeing that it was late and everyone had told a story, and realizing that her reign had come to an end, she removed the garland from her own head in the usual way, and, placing it on Neifile’s, she said to her with a laugh: ‘Dear sister, I do hereby pronounce you sovereign of our tiny nation.’ And then she returned to her place. Neifile blushed a little on receiving this honour, so that her face was like the rose that blooms at dawn in early summer, whilst her eyes, which she had lowered slightly, glittered and shone like the morning star.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  All the ladies wondered to which of them it would be given, and eventually he set it down with a flourish upon the fine blonde head of Fiammetta, saying: ‘I now bequeath you this crown, knowing that you are better able than any other to restore the spirits of our fair companions tomorrow after the rigours of the present day’s proceedings.’ Fiammetta, who had long, golden curls that cascaded down over delicate, pure white shoulders, a softly rounded face that glowed with the authentic hues of white lilies and crimson roses, a pair of eyes in her head that gleamed like a falcon’s, and a sweet little mouth with lips like rubies, answered Filostrato with a smile, saying: ‘I accept it with pleasure, Filostrato; and so that you may the more keenly appreciate the error of your ways, I desire and decree forthwith that each of us should be ready on the morrow to recount the adventures of lovers who survived calamities or misfortunes and attained a state of happiness.’ Fiammetta’s proposal met with general approval, and after summoning the steward and making appropriate arrangements, she rose to her feet and gaily dismissed the whole company till supper-time. So they all wandered off to amuse themselves until supper in whatever way they pleased, some of them remaining in the garden, of whose beauties one did not easily tire, whilst others ventured beyond its confines and made for the windmills, whose sails were turning in the evening breeze. When it was time for supper, they forgathered as usual beside the beautiful fountain, and partook of a most delicious meal, excellently served. Then, having risen from table, they devoted themselves to singing and dancing in their customary fashion, with Filomena leading the revels, and the queen said: ‘Filostrato, it is not my intention to depart from the ways of my predecessors. Like them, I too intend to command that a song should be sung, and since I am sure that your songs will be no less gloomy than your stories, I desire that you should choose one and sing it to us now, so that no day other than this will be blighted by your woes.’ Filostrato replied that he would be only too willing to obey, and launched immediately into a song, the words of which ran as follows: ‘With fitting tears, I show The mourning heart bereaved, Its faith in Love deceived. ‘Love, who first fixed into my heart She for whom now I sigh in vain, You showed me her so full of grace That I held light each bitter pain Which came to torment me So everlastingly. I know my error now; Not without grief, I vow. ‘I comprehend that false deceit And see how, while I thought that she Seemed to allow my love, she’d found Another servant, spurning me. Ah, then I could not see My future misery! But she the other took And me for him forsook.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  In the end she decided to put the case to her husband without saying who was involved, and ask his opinion about what the people concerned ought to do about it; and having woken him up, she described her own recent experience as though it had happened to someone else, then asked him what advice he would give supposing it had happened to her. To this, the worthy soul replied that in his view, the fellow who was dead would have to be taken quietly back to his own house and left there, and that no resentment should be harboured against the woman, who did not appear to him to have done any wrong. ‘In that case,’ said the girl, ‘we shall have to do likewise.’ And taking his hand, she brought it into contact with the young man’s body, whereupon he leapt to his feet in utter consternation, lighted a lamp, and, without entering into further discussion with his wife, dressed the body in its own clothes. And without further ado, he lifted it on to his shoulders and carried it, confident in his own innocence, to the door of Girolamo’s house, where he put it down and left it. Next morning, when the young man’s corpse was discovered lying on the doorstep, a great commotion was raised, in particular by the mother. The body was carefully examined all over, but no trace of a wound or a blow could be found, and it was the general opinion of the physicians that he had died of grief, as indeed he had. His remains were taken into a church, to which the sorrowing mother came with numerous kinswomen and neighbours, and they all began to weep and keen over his body, as is customary in our part of the world. Whilst the tears and lamentations were at their height, the worthy man in whose house Girolamo had died turned to Salvestra and said: ‘Just cover your head in a mantle and go over to the church where Girolamo was taken. Mingle with the women, and listen to what they are saying about this business, and I will do the same among the men, so that we may find out whether anything is being said against us.’ The girl readily assented, for she was stirred to pity now that it was too late and was eager to gaze upon the dead features of the man who had been unable to persuade her, whilst he was still alive, to grant him so much as a single kiss. And so off she went to the church.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Moreover I can assure you that this visit which you have been generous enough to pay me is worth more to me than all the money I ever possessed, though I fear that my hospitality will not amount to very much.’ So saying, he led her unassumingly into the house, and thence into his garden, where, since there was no one else he could call upon to chaperon her, he said: ‘My lady, as there is nobody else available, this good woman, who is the wife of the farmer here, will keep you company whilst I go and see about setting the table.’ Though his poverty was acute, the extent to which he had squandered his wealth had not yet been fully borne home to Federigo; but on this particular morning, finding that he had nothing to set before the lady for whose love he had entertained so lavishly in the past, his eyes were well and truly opened to the fact. Distressed beyond all measure, he silently cursed his bad luck and rushed all over the house like one possessed, but could find no trace of either money or valuables. By now the morning was well advanced, he was still determined to entertain the gentlewoman to some sort of meal, and, not wishing to beg assistance from his own farmer (or from anyone else, for that matter), his gaze alighted on his precious falcon, which was sitting on its perch in the little room where it was kept. And having discovered, on picking it up, that it was nice and plump, he decided that since he had nowhere else to turn, it would make a worthy dish for such a lady as this. So without thinking twice about it he wrung the bird’s neck and promptly handed it over to his housekeeper to be plucked, dressed, and roasted carefully on a spit. Then he covered the table with spotless linen, of which he still had a certain amount in his possession, and returned in high spirits to the garden, where he announced to his lady that the meal, such as he had been able to prepare, was now ready. The lady and her companion rose from where they were sitting and made their way to the table. And together with Federigo, who waited on them with the utmost deference, they made a meal of the prize falcon without knowing what they were eating. On leaving the table they engaged their host in pleasant conversation for a while, and when the lady thought it time to broach the subject she had gone there to discuss, she turned to Federigo and addressed him affably as follows: ‘I do not doubt for a moment, Federigo, that you will be astonished at my impertinence when you discover my principal reason for coming here, especially when you recall your former mode of living and my virtue, which you possibly mistook for harshness and cruelty.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  But he waited just the same, thinking it would be unwise of him to leave. In his luggage he had three fine rich robes, which had been given to him by other noble lords, so that he would cut a graceful figure at the festivities. And since the innkeeper was demanding payment, he first gave him one of these, and then, after staying a while longer, he was compelled to give him the second, since otherwise he would have had to leave the inn altogether. Then he began to live off the third, having decided to stay until he had seen how long it would last, and then go away. Now while he was living off this third robe, he happened one day to be standing with a very gloomy expression on his face, in front of the table where Can Grande was dining. More out of a desire to tease him than to be entertained by any of his witticisms, Can Grande looked towards him and said: ‘Bergamino, what is the matter? You are looking so sad! Say something to us.’ Without a moment’s reflection, yet with all the fluency of a speech prepared long in advance, Bergamino suddenly came out with a story relevant to his own case, which ran as follows: ‘My lord, I must begin by telling you that Primas 3 was a very great grammarian and had no equal as a quick and gifted versifier. These two qualities made him so famous and respected, that even though he was not known everywhere by sight, his name and reputation were such that there was hardly anybody who did not know who Primas was. ‘Now it happened that once, while living in Paris in a state of poverty (which was the way he mostly lived, for his abilities were little appreciated by those who were rich enough to help him), he heard mention of a certain abbot of Cluny, 4 who was believed to have a higher revenue from his estates than any other prelate in God’s Church, with the exception of the Pope. He heard people saying wonderful and magnificent things about this Abbot, for instance that he always held open court and that nobody who called upon him was ever refused food and drink, provided only that he asked for it while the Abbot was at table. When Primas heard this, he decided, being a man who enjoyed seeing gentlemen and princes, that he would go and discover for himself how splendidly the Abbot lived, and he inquired how far it was from Paris to his residence. On being told it was a distance of about six miles, Primas calculated that by setting out early in the morning he could reach the place in time for breakfast.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  And that’s all there is to it, father.’ She was still sobbing uncontrollably when, having come to the end of her speech, she extracted a very splendid, expensive-looking purse from beneath her cloak together with a gorgeous little belt, and hurled them into the lap of the friar, who, being fully taken in by her story, was feeling exceedingly distressed and accepted them without any question. ‘Daughter,’ he said, ‘I am not surprised that you are so upset by what has happened, and I certainly cannot blame you. On the contrary, I am full of admiration for the way you have followed my advice in this affair. He has obviously failed to keep the promise he gave me the other day, when I first took him to task. Nevertheless, I believe that this latest outrage of his, following in the wake of his earlier misdemeanours, will enable me to give him such a severe scolding that he will not trouble you any further. In the meantime, you must with God’s blessing contain your anger and refrain from informing any of your relatives, because that could bring him altogether too heavy a punishment. Never fear that this will harm your good name, for I shall always be here to bear unwavering witness, whether before God or before men, to your virtuous nature.’ The lady gave the appearance of being somewhat mollified, and then, knowing how covetous he and his fellow friars were, she moved on to another subject. ‘Father,’ she said, ‘for the past few nights I have been dreaming about various departed relatives of mine, and they all appear to be suffering dreadful torments and continually asking for alms, especially my mother, who seems to be in such a state of affliction and misery that it would break your heart to see her. I think she is suffering abominably at seeing me persecuted like this by that enemy of God, and hence I should like you to pray for their souls and say the forty masses of Saint Gregory, 1 so that God may release them from this scourging fire.’ And so saying, she slipped a florin into his hand. The reverend friar gleefully pocketed the money, and having poured out a torrent of fine words and pious tales to reinforce her godliness, he gave her his blessing and let her go. Unaware that he had been hoodwinked, the friar watched her depart and then summoned his friend, who realized as soon as he arrived, from the friar’s agitated appearance, that he was about to receive some news from the lady, and waited to hear what the friar had to say. The latter repeated all that he had said to him previously, and for the second time, angrily and without mincing his words, gave him a severe scolding for what the lady alleged he had done.