the decameron(十日谈)-第89章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


more；　then　his　meanes　and　ability　could　maintaine；　and　no　supplies　any
way　redounding　to　him；　or　his　faculties　（as　very　easily　they　might）
diminished　in　such　sort；　that　became　so　poore；　as　he　had　nothing
left　him；　but　a　small　poore　Farme　to　live　upon；　the　silly　revenewes
whereof　were　so　meane；　as　scarcely　allowed　him　meat　and　drinke；　yet
had　he　a　faire　Hawke　or　Faulcon；　hardly　any　where　to　be　fellowed；　so
expeditious　and　sure　she　was　of　flight。　His　low　ebbe　and　poverty；　no
way　quailing　his　love　to　the　Lady；　but　rather　setting　a　keener　edge
thereon；　he　saw　the　City　life　could　no　longer　containe　him；　where　most
he　coveted　to　abide：　and　therefore；　betooke　himselfe　to　his　poore
Countrey　Farme；　to　let　his　Faulcon　get　him　his　dinner　and　supper；
patiently　supporting　his　penurious　estate；　without　suite　or　meanes
making　to　one；　for　helpe　or　reliefe　in　any　such　necessity。
　　While　thus　he　continued　in　this　extremity；　it　came　to　passe；　that
the　Husband　to　Madam　Giana　fell　sicke；　and　his　debility　of　body
being　such；　as　little；　or　no　hope　of　life　remained：　he　made　his　last
will　and　testament；　ordaining　thereby；　that　his　Sonne　（already
growne　to　indifferent　stature）　should　be　heire　to　all　his　Lands　and
riches；　wherein　he　abounded　very　greatly。　Next　unto　him；　if　he　chanced
to　die　without　a　lawfull　heire；　he　substituted　his　Wife；　whom　most
dearely　he　affected；　and　so　departed　out　of　this　life。　Madam　Giana
being　thus　left　a　widdow；　as　commonly　it　is　the　custome　of　our　City
Dames；　during　the　Summer　season；　she　went　to　a　house　of　her　owne　in
the　Countrey；　which　was　somewhat　neere　to　poore　Frederigoes　Farme；　and
where　he　lived　in　such　an　honest　kind　of　contented　poverty。
　　Hereupon；　the　young　Gentleman　her　Sonne；　taking　great　delight　in
Hounds　and　Hawkes；　grew　into　familiarity　with　poore　Frederigo；　and
having　seene　many　faire　flights　of　his　Faulcon；　they　pleased　him　so
extraordinarily；　that　he　earnestly　desired　to　enjoy　her　as　his　owne；
yet　durst　not　move　the　motion　for　her；　because　he　saw　how　choycely
Frederigo　esteemed　her。　Within　a　short　while　after；　the　young
Gentleman；　became　very　sicke；　whereat　his　Mother　greeved
exceedingly；　（as　having　no　more　but　he；　and　therefore　loved　him　the
more　entirely）　never　parting　from　him　night　or　day；　comforting　him
so　kindly　as　she　could；　and　demanding；　if　he　had　a　desire　to　any
thing；　willing　him　to　reveale　it；　and　assuring　him　withall；　that　（it
were　within　the　compasse　of　possibility）　he　should　have　it。　The
youth　hearing　how　many　times　she　had　made　him　these　offers；　and　with
such　vehement　protestations　of　performance；　at　last　thus　spake。
　　Mother　（quoth　he）　if　you　can　do　so　much　for　me；　as　that　I　may　have
Frederigoes　Faulcon；　I　am　perswaded；　that　my　sicknesse　soone　will
cease。　The　Lady　hearing　this；　sate　some　short　while　musing　to　her
selfe；　and　began　to　consider；　what　she　might　best　doe　to　compasse
her　Sonnes　desire：　for　well　she　knew；　how　long　a　time　Frederigo　had
most　lovingly　kept　it；　not　suffering　it　ever　to　be　out　of　his　sight。
Moreover；　shee　remembred；　how　earnest　in　affection　he　had　bene　to　her；
never　thinking　himselfe　happy；　but　onely　when　he　was　in　her　company；
wherefore；　shee　entred　into　this　private　consultation　with　her　owne
thoughts。　Shall　I　send；　or　goe　my　selfe　in　person；　to　request　the
Faulcon　of　him；　it　being　the　best　that　ever　flew？　It　is　his　onely
Jewell　of　delight；　and　that　taken　from　him；　no　longer　can　he　wish　to
live　in　this　World。　How　farre　then　voyde　of　understanding　shall　I　shew
my　selfe；　to　rob　a　Gentleman　of　his　sole　felicity；　having　no　other　joy
or　comfort　left　him？　These　and　the　like　considerations；　wheeled
about　her　troubled　braine；　onely　in　tender　care　and　love　to　her　Sonne；
perswading　her　selfe　assuredly；　that　the　Faulcon　were　her　owne；　if　she
would　but　request　it：　yet　not　knowing　whereon　it　were　best　to　resolve；
shee　returned　no　answer　to　her　Sonne；　but　sate　still　in　her　silent
meditations。　At　the　length；　love　to　the　youth；　so　prevailed　with
her；　that　she　concluded　on　his　contentation；　and　（come　of　it　what
could）　shee　would　not　send　for　it；　but　go　her　selfe　in　person　to
request　it；　and　then　returne　home　againe　with　it：　whereupon　thus　she
spake。　Sonne；　comfort　thy　selfe；　and　let　languishing　thoughts　no
longer　offend　thee：　for　here　I　promise　thee；　that　the　first　thing　I　do
to　morrow　morning；　shall　bee　my　journey　for　the　Faulcon；　and　assure
thy　selfe；　that　I　will　bring　it　with　me。　Whereat　the　youth　was　so
joyed；　that　he　imagined；　his　sicknesse　began　instantly　a　little　to
leave　him；　and　promised　him　a　speedy　recovery。
　　Somewhat　early　the　next　morning；　the　Lady；　in　care　of　her　sicke　Sons
health；　was　up　and　ready　betimes；　and　taking　another　Gentlewoman
with　her；　onely　as　a　morning　recreation；　shee　walked　to　Frederigoes
poore　Countrey　Farme；　knowing　that　it　would　not　a　little　glad　him　to
see　her。　At　the　time　of　her　arrivall　there；　he　was　（by　chance）　in　a
silly　Garden；　on　the　backe…side　of　the　a　si　House；　because　（as　yet）　it
was　no　convenient　time　for　flight：　but　when　he　heard；　that　Madam　Glana
was　come　thither；　and　desired　to　have　some　conference　with　him；　as　one
almost　confounded　with　admiration；　in　all　hast　he　ran　to　her；　and
saluted　her　with　most　humble　reverence。　She　in　all　modest　and　gracious
manner；　requited　him　with　the　like　salutations；　thus　speaking　to
him。　Signior　Frederigo；　your　owne　best　wishes　befriend　you；　I　am　now
come　hither；　to　recompence　some　part　of　your　passed　travailes；　which
heretofore　you　pretended　traval　I　to　suffer　for　my　sake；　when　your
love　was　more　to　me；　then　did　well　become　you　to　offer；　or　my　selfe　to
accept。　And　such　is　the　nature　of　my　recompence；　that　I　make　my
selfe　your　guest；　and　meane　this　day　to　dine　with　as　also　this
Gentlewoman；　making　no　doubt　of　our　welcome：　whereto；　with　lowly
reverence；　thus　he　replyed。
　　Madam；　I　doe　not　remember；　that　ever　I　sustained　any　losse　or
hinderance　by　you；　but　rather　so　much　good；　as　if　I　was　worth　any
thing；　it　proceeded　from　your　great　deservings；　and　by　the　service
in　which　I　did　stand　engaged　to　you。　But　my　present　happinesse　can
no　way　be　equalled；　derived　from　your　super…abounding　gracious　favour；
and　more　then　common　course　of　kindnesse；　vouchsafing　（of　your　owne
liberall　nature）　to　come　and　visit　so　poore　a　servant。　Oh　that　I　had
as　much　to　spend　againe；　as　heretofore　riotously　I　have　runne
thorow：　what　a　welcome　would　your　poore　Host　bestow　upon　you；　for
gracing；　this　homely　house　with　your　divine　presence？　With　these
wordes；　he　conducted　her　into　his　house；　and　then　into　his　simple
Garden；　where　having　no　convenient　company　for　her；　he　said。　Madam；
the　poverty　of　this　place　is　such；　that　it　affoordeth　none　fit　for
your　conversation：　this　poore　woman；　wife　to　an　honest　Husbandman　will
attend　on　you；　while　I　（with　some　speede）　shall　make　ready　dinner。
　　Poore　Frederigo；　although　his　necessity　was　extreame；　and　his　greefe
great；　remembring　his　former　inordinate　expences；　a　moity　whereof
would　now　have　stood　him　in　some　stead；　yet　he　had　a　heart　as　free　and
forward　as　ever；　not　a　jotte　dejected　in　his　minde；　though　utterly
overthrowne　by　Fortune。　Alas！　how　was　his　good　soule　afflicted；　that
he　had　nothing　wherewith　to　honour　his　Lady？　Up　and　downe　he　runnes；
one　while　this　way；　then　againe　another；　exclaiming　on　his
disastrous　Fate；　like　a　man　enraged；　or　bereft　of　senses：　for　he　had
not　one　peny　of　mony　neither　pawne　or　pledge；　wherewith　to　procure
any。　The　time　hasted　on；　and　he　would　gladly　（though　in　meane　measure）
expresse　his　honourable　respect　of　the　Lady。　To　begge　of　any；　his
nature　denied　it；　and　to　borrow　he　could　not；　because　his　neighbours
were　all　as　needie　as　himselfe。
　　At　last；　looking　round　about；　and　seeing　his　Faulcon　standing　on　her
pearch；　which　he　felt　to　be　very　plumpe　and　fat；　being　voyde　of　all
other　helpes　in　his　neede；　and　thinking　her　to　be　a　Fowle　meete　for　so
Noble　a　Lady　to　feede　on：　without　any　further　demurring　or　delay；　he
pluckt　off　her　necke；　and　caused　the　poore　woman　presently　to　pull　her
Feathers：　which　being　done；　he　put　her　on　the　spit；　and　in　short
time　she　was　daintily　roasted。　Himselfe　covered　the　Table；　set　bread
and　salt　on　and　laid　the　Napkins；　whereof　he　had　but　a　few　left　him。
Going　then　with　chearfull　lookes　into　the　Garden；　telling　the　Lady
that　dinner　was　ready；　and　nothing　now　wanted；　but　her　presence。　Shee；
and　the　Gentlewoman　went　in；　and　being　sated　at　the　Table；　not　knowing
what　they　fed　on；　the　Faulcon　was　all　their　foode；　and　Frederigo　not　a
little　joyfull；　that　his　credite　was　so　well　saved。　When　they　were
risen　from　the　table；　and　had　spent　some　small　time　in　familiar
conference：　the　Lady　thought　it　fit；　to　acquaint　him　with　the　reason
of　her　comming　thither；　and　therefore　（in　very　kinde　manner）　thus
began。
　　Frederigo；　if　you　do　yet　remember　your　former　carriage　towards
mee；　as　also　my　many　modest　and　chaste　denials；　which　（perhaps）　you
thought　to　savour　of　a　harsh；　cruell；　and　un…womanly　nature；　I　make　no
doubt；　but　you　will　wonder　at　my　present　presumption；　when　you
understand　the　occasion；　which　expressely　mooved　me　to　come　hither。
But　if　you　were　possessed　of　children；　or　ever　had　any；　whereby　you
might　comprehend　what　love　（in　nature）　is　due　unto　them：　then　I
durst　assure　my　selfe；　that　you　would　partly　hold　me　excused。
　　Now；　in　regard　that　you　never　had　any；　and　my　selfe　（for　my　part）
have　but　onely　one；　I　stand　not　exempted　from　those　Lawes；　which　are
in　common　to　other　mothers。　And　being　compelled　to　obey　the　power　of
those　Lawes；　contrary　to　mine　owne　will；　and　those　duties　which　reason
owne　wi　ought　to　maintaine；　I　am　to　request　such　a　gift　of　you；
which　I　am　certaine；　that　you　do　make　most　precious　account　of；　as
in　manly　equity　you　can　do　no　lesse。　For　Fortune　hath　bin　so　extreamly
adverse　to　you；　that　she　hath　robbed　you　of　all　other　pleasures；
allowing　you　no　comfort　or　delight；　but　onely　that　poore　one；　which　is
your　faire　Faulcone。　Of　which　Bird；　my　Sonne　is　become　so　strangely
desirous；　as；　if　I　doe　not　bring　it　to　him　at　my　comming　home；　I　feare
so　much；　the　extreamity　of　his　sicknesse；　as　nothing　can　ensue
thereon；　but　his　losse　of　life。　Wherefore　I　beseech　you；　not　in　regard
of　the　love　you　have　borne　me；　for　therby　you　stand　no　way　obliged：
but　in　your　owne　true　gentle　nature　（the　which　hath　alwayes　declared
it　selfe　ready　in　you；　to　do　more　kinde　offices　generally；　then　any
other　Gentleman　that　I　know）　you　will　be　pleased　to　give　her　me；　or　at
the　least；　let　me　buy　her　of　you。
　　Which　if　you　do；　I　shall　freely　then　confesse；　that　onely　by　your
meanes；　my　Sonnes　life　is　saved；　and　we　both　shall　for　ever　remaine
engaged　to　you。
　　When　Frederigo　had　heard　the　Ladies　request；　which　was　now　quite　out
of　his　power　to　graunt；　because　it　had　bene　her　service　at　dinner：
he　stood　like　a　man　meerely　dulled　in　his　sences；　the　teares　trickling
amaine　downe　his　cheekes；　and　he　not　able　to　utter　one　word。　Which　she
perceiving；　began　to　conjecture　immediately；　that　these　teares　and
passions　proceeded　rather　from　greefe　of　minde；　as　being　loather　to
part　with　his　Faulcon；　then　any　other　kinde　of　manner：　which　made
her　ready　to　say；　that　she　would　not　have　it。　Neverthelesse　she　did
not　speak