Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
Giovanni Boccaccio & John Payne
The First Story
A Gentleman Engageth To Madam Oretta To Carry Her A-Horseback With A Story, But, Telling It Disorderly, Is Prayed By Her To Set Her Down Again
"Young ladies, like as stars, in the clear nights, are the ornaments of the heavens and the flowers and the leaf-clad shrubs, in the Spring, of the green fields and the hillsides, even so are praiseworthy manners and goodly discourse adorned by sprightly sallies, the which, for that they are brief, beseem women yet better than men, inasmuch as much speaking is more forbidden to the former than to the latter. Yet, true it is, whatever the cause, whether it be the meanness of our[298] understanding or some particular grudge borne by heaven to our times, that there be nowadays few or no women left who know how to say a witty word in due season or who, an it be said to them, know how to apprehend it as it behoveth; the which is a general reproach to our whole sex. However, for that enough hath been said aforetime on the subject by Pampinea,[299] I purpose to say no more thereof; but, to give you to understand how much goodliness there is in witty sayings, when spoken in due season, it pleaseth me to recount to you the courteous fashion in which a lady imposed silence upon a gentleman.
As many of you ladies may either know by sight or have heard tell, there was not long since in our city a noble and well-bred and well-spoken gentlewoman, whose worth merited not that her name be left unsaid. She was called, then, Madam Oretta and was the wife of Messer Geri Spina. She chanced to be, as we are, in the country, going from place to place, by way of diversion, with a company of ladies and gentlemen, whom she had that day entertained to dinner at her house, and the way being belike somewhat long from the place whence they set out to that whither they were all purposed to go afoot, one of the gentlemen said to her, 'Madam Oretta, an you will, I will carry you a-horseback great part of the way we have to go with one of the finest stories in the world.' 'Nay, sir,' answered the lady, 'I pray you instantly thereof; indeed, it will be most agreeable to me.' Master cavalier, who maybe fared no better, sword at side than tale on tongue, hearing this, began a story of his, which of itself was in truth very goodly; but he, now thrice or four or even half a dozen times repeating one same word, anon turning back and whiles saying, 'I said not aright,' and often erring in the names and putting one for another, marred it cruelly, more by token that he delivered himself exceedingly ill, having regard to the quality of the persons and the nature of the incidents of his tale. By reason whereof, Madam Oretta, hearkening to him, was many a time taken with a sweat and failing of the heart, as she were sick and near her end, and at last, being unable to brook the thing any more and seeing the gentleman engaged in an imbroglio from which he was not like to extricate himself, she said to him pleasantly, 'Sir, this horse of yours hath too hard a trot; wherefore I pray you be pleased to set me down.' The gentleman, who, as it chanced, understood a hint better than he told a story, took the jest in good part and turning it off with a laugh, fell to discoursing of other matters and left unfinished the story that he had begun and conducted so ill."
Footnotes
[298] i.e. women's.
[299] See ante, p. 43, Introduction to the last story of the First Day.