Allegories; Frame stories; Plague -- Europe -- History -- Fiction; Storytelling -- Fiction
Day by day Pericone's passion waxed more ardent, being fomented by the
proximity and contrariety of its object. Wherefore seeing that blandishment
availed nothing, he was minded to have recourse to wiles and stratagems, and
in the last resort to force. The lady, debarred by her law from the use of
wine, found it, perhaps, on that account all the more palatable, which
Pericone observing determined to enlist Bacchus in the service of Venus. So,
ignoring her coyness, he provided one evening a supper, which was ordered
with all possible pomp and beauty, and graced by the presence of the lady.
No lack was there of incentives to hilarity; and Pericone directed the
servant who waited on Alatiel to ply her with divers sorts of blended wines;
which command the man faithfully executed. She, suspecting nothing, and
seduced by the delicious flavour of the liquor, drank somewhat more freely
than was seemly, and forgetting her past woes, became frolicsome, and
incited by some women who trod some measures in the Majorcan style, she
shewed the company how they footed it in Alexandria. This novel demeanour
was by no means lost on Pericone, who saw in it a good omen of his speedy
success; so, with profuse relays of food and wine he prolonged the supper
far into the night.
When the guests were at length gone, he attended the lady alone to her
chamber, where, the heat of the wine overpowering the cold counsels of
modesty, she made no more account of Pericone's presence than if he had been
one of her women, and forthwith undressed and went to bed. Pericone was not
slow to follow her, and as soon as the light was out lay down by her side,
and taking her in his arms, without the least demur on her part, began, to
solace himself with her after the manner of lovers; which experience--she
knew not till then with what horn men butt--caused her to repent that she
had not yielded to his blandishments; nor did she thereafter wait to be
invited to such nights of delight, but many a time declared her readiness,
not by words, for she had none to convey her meaning, but by gestures.
But this great felicity which she now shared with Pericone was not to last:
for not content with making her, instead of the consort of a king, the
mistress of a castellan, Fortune had now in store for her a harsher
experience, though of an amorous character. Pericone had a brother,
twenty-five years of age, fair and fresh as a rose, his name Marato. On
sight of Alatiel Marato had been mightily taken with her; he inferred from
her bearing that he stood high in her good graces; he believed that nothing
stood between him and the gratification of his passion but the jealous
vigilance with which Pericone guarded her. So musing, he hit upon a ruthless
expedient, which had effect in action as hasty as heinous.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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