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
When _Mithridanes_ heard him speake, and looked advisedly on his face,
he knew him immediatly to be the same man, that had entertained him
so lovingly, conversed with him so familiarly, and counselled him so
faithfully: all which overcomming his former fury, his harsh nature
became meerly confounded with shame: So throwing downe his drawne
sword, which he held readily prepared for the deede: he prostrated
himselfe at _Nathans_ feet, and in teares, spake in this manner. Now
do I manifestly know (most loving Father) your admired bounty and
liberalitie; considering, with what industrious providence, you made
the meanes for your comming hither, prodigally to bestow your life
on me, which I have no right unto, although you were so willing to
part with it. But those high and supreame powers, more carefull of my
dutie, then I my selfe: even at the very instant, and when it was most
needfull, opened the eyes of my better understanding, which infernall
envy had closed up before. And therefore, looke how much you have
bin forward to pleasure me; so much the more shame and punishment, I
confesse my heinous transgression hath justly deserved: take therefore
on me (if you please) such revenge, as you thinke (in justice)
answerable to my sin.
_Nathan_ lovingly raised _Mithridanes_ from the ground, then kissing
his cheeke, and tenderly embracing him, he said. Sonne, thou needed
not to aske, much lesse to obtaine pardon, for any enterprise of
thine, which thou canst not yet terme to be good or bad: because
thou soughtest not to bereave me of my life, for any hatred thou
barest me, but onely in coveting to be reputed the Woorthier man.
Take then this assurance of me, and beleeve it constantly, that there
is no man living, whom I love and honour, as I do thee: considering
the greatnesse of thy minde, which consisteth not in the heaping up
of money, as wretched and miserable Worldlings make it their onely
felicity; but, contending in bounty to spend what is thine, didst hold
it for no shame to kill me, thereby to make thy selfe so much the more
worthily famous.
Nor is it any matter to be wondred at, in regard that Emperors, and the
greatest Kings, hadde never made such extendure of their Dominions, and
consequently of their renowne, by any other Art, then killing; yet not
one man onely, as thou wouldst have done: but infinite numbers, burning
whole Countries, and making desolate huge Townes and Cities, onely to
enlarge their dominion, and further spreading of their fame. Wherefore,
if for the increasing of thine owne renowne, thou wast desirous of my
death: it is no matter of novelty, and therefore deserving the lesse
mervaile, seeing men are slaine daily, and all for one purpose or other.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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