The Decameron (Day 6 to Day 10): Containing an hundred pleasant NovelsBoccaccio, Giovanni
History
The Decameron (Day 6 to Day 10): Containing an hundred pleasant Novels
Boccaccio, Giovanni
Allegories; Frame stories; Plague -- Europe -- History -- Fiction; Storytelling -- Fiction
_Reniero_, when some three houres of the afternoone were overpast,
awaked from sleeping: and remembring Madame _Helena_, he went to see
in what estate she was; as also to send his servant unto dinner,
because he had fasted all that day. She perceyving his arrivall, being
altogether weake, faint, and wonderously over-wearied, she crept on
her knees to a corner of the Turret, and calling to him, spake in this
manner. _Reniero_, thy revenge exceedeth al manhoode and respect: For,
if thou wast almost frozen in my Court, thou hast roasted me all day
long on this Tower, yea, meerly broyled my poore naked bodie, beside
starving mee thorough want of Food and drinke. Be now then so mercifull
(for manhoods sake) as to come uppe hither, and inflict that on me,
which mine owne hands are not strong enough to do, I meane the ending
of my loathed and wearisome life, for I desire it beyond all comfort
else, and I shall honour thee in the performance of it. If thou deny me
this gracious favour; at least send me uppe a glasse of Water, onely to
moisten my mouth, which my teares (being all meerly dried up) are not
able to doe, so extreame is the violence of the Sunnes burning heate.
Well perceived the Scholler, by the weaknesse of her voyce, and
scorching of her body by the Suns parching beames, that shee was
brought now to great extremity: which sight, as also her humble
intercession, began to touch him with some compassion, nevertheles,
thus he replied. Wicked woman, my hands shall be no means of thy death,
but make use of thine owne, if thou be so desirous to have it: and as
much water shalt thou get of me to asswage thy thirst, as thou gavest
me fire to comfort my freezing, when thou wast in the luxurious heat of
thy immodest desires, and I wel-neere frozen to death with extremity of
cold. Pray that the Evening may raine downe Rose-water on thee, because
that in the River of _Arno_ is not good enough for thee: for as little
pitty doe I take on thee now, as thou didst extend compassion to me
then.
Miserable Woman that I am, answered _Helena_; Why did the heavens
bestow beautie on mee, which others have admired and honoured, and yet
(by thee) is utterly despised? More cruell art thou then any savage
Beast; thus to vexe and torment mee in such mercilesse manner. What
greater extreamity couldst thou inflict on me, if I had bin the
destruction of all thy Kindred, and lefte no one man living of thy
race? I am verily perswaded, that more cruelty cannot be used against
a Traitor, who was the subversion of a whole Cittie, then this tyranny
of thine, roasting me thus in the beames of the Sun, and suffering my
body to be devoured with Flies, without so small a mercie; as to give
mee a little coole water, which murtherers are permitted to have, being
condemned by Justice, and led to execution: yea Wine also, if they
request it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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