the decameron(十日谈)-第74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！


likewise　her　daughters；　to　whom　her　husband　was　now　so
affectionately　devoted；　she　made　choise　of　a　fit　and　convenient
time；　when　（in　her　Pilgrimes　habit）　secretly　she　went　to　the　house。
There　she　found　the　mother　and　daughter　in　poore　condition；　and　with
as　poore　a　family：　whom　after　she　had　ceremoniously　saluted；　she
told　the　old　Lady；　that　she　requested　but　a　little　conference　with
her。　The　Lady　arose；　and　giving　her　kinde　entertainement；　they　went
together　into　a　withdrawing　Chamber；　where　being　both　set　downe；　the
Countesse　began　in　this　manner。
　　Madame；　in　my　poore　opinion；　you　are　not　free　from　the　frownes　of
Fortune；　no　more　then　I　my　selfe　am：　but　if　you　were　so　well
pleased；　there　is　no　one　that　can　comfort　both　our　calamities　in
such　manner；　as　you　are　able　to　do。　And　beleeve　me　answered　the
Lady；　there　is　nothing　in　the　world　that　can　be　so　welcome　to　me；　as
honest　comfort。　The　Countesse　proceeding　on　in　her　former　speeches
said：　I　have　now　need　（good　Madame）　both　of　your　trust　and　fidelity；
whereon　if　I　should　rely；　and　you　faile　me；　it　will　be　your　owne
undoing　as　well　as　mine。　Speake　then　boldly；　replied　the　old　Lady；　and
remaine　constantly　assured；　that　you　shall　no　way　be　deceived　by　me。
Hereupon；　the　Countesse　declared　the　whole　course　of　her　love；　from
the　very　originall　to　the　instant；　revealing　also　what　she　was；　and
the　occasion　of　her　comming　thither；　relating　every　thing　so
perfectly；　that　the　Lady　verily　beleeved　her；　by　some　reports　which
she　had　formerly　heard；　and　which　mooved　her　the　more　to　compassion。
Now；　when　all　circumstances　were　at　full　discovered；　thus　spake　the
Countesse。
　　Among　my　other　miseries　and　misfortunes；　which　hath　halfe　broken
my　heart　in　the　meere　repetition；　beside　the　sad　and　afflicting
sufferance；　two　things　there　are；　which　if　I　cannot　compasse　to
have；　all　hope　is　quite　frustrate　for　ever；　of　gaining　the　grace　of　my
Lord　and　Husband。　Yet　these　two　things　may　I　obtaine　by　your　helpe；　if
all　be　true　which　I　have　heard；　and　you　can　therein　best　resolve
mee。　Since　my　comming　to　this　City；　it　hath　credibly　bene　told　me；
that　the　Count　my　husband；　is　deeply　in　love　with　your　daughter。　If
the　Count　（quoth　the　Ladie）　love　my　daughter；　and　have　a　wife　of　his
owne；　he　must　thinke；　and　so　shall　surely　finde　it；　that　his
greatnesse　is　no　priviledge　for　him；　whereby　to　worke　dishonour　upon
her　poverty。　But　indeede；　some　apparances　there　are；　and　such　a　matter
as　you　speake　of；　may　be　so　presumed；　yet　so　farre　from　a　very　thought
of　entertaining　in　her　or　me；　as　whatsoever　I　am　able　to　doe；　to　yeeld
you　any　comfort　and　content；　you　shall　find　me　therein　both　willing
and　ready：　for　I　prize　my　daughters　spotlesse　poverty　at　as　high　a
rate；　as　he　can　doe　the　pride　of　his　honour。
　　Madame；　quoth　the　Countesse；　most　heartily　I　thanke　you。　But
before　I　presume　any　further　on　your　kindnesse；　let　me　first　tell　you；
what　faithfully　I　intend　to　do　for　you；　if　I　can　bring　my　purpose　to
effect。　I　see　that　your　daughter　is　beautifull；　and　of　sufficient
yeeres　for　marriage；　and　is　debarred　thereof　（as　I　have　heard）　onely
by　lack　of　a　competent　dowry。　Wherefore　Madame；　in　recompence　of　the
favour　I　expect　from　you；　I　will　enrich　her　with　so　much　ready　money
as　you　shall　thinke　sufficient　to　match　her　in　the　degree　of　honour。
Poverty　made　the　poore　Lady；　very　well　to　like　of　such　a　bountifull
offer；　and　having　a　noble　heart　shee　said：　Great　Countesse　say；
wherein　am　I　able　to　do　you　any　service；　as　can　deserve　such　a
gracious　offer？　If　the　action　be　honest；　without　blame　or　scandall
to　my　poore；　yet　undetected　reputation；　gladly　I　will　do　it；　and　it
being　accomplished；　let　the　requitall　rest　in　your　owne　noble　nature。
　　Observe　me　then　Madame；　replied　the　Countesse。　It　is　most　convenient
for　my　purpose；　that　by　some　trusty　and　faithfull　messenger；　you
should　advertise　the　Count　my　husband；　that　your　daughter　is；　and
shall　be　at　his　command：　but　that　she　may　remaine　absolutely
assured；　that　his　love　is　constant　to　her；　and　above　all　other：　shee
must　entreat　him；　to　send　her　（as　a　testimony　thereof）　the　Ring
which　he　weareth　upon　his　little　finger；　albeit　shee　hath　heard；
that　he　loveth　it　deerly。　If　he　send　the　Ring；　you　shall　give　it　me；
and　afterward　send　him　word；　that　your　daughter　is　ready　to　accomplish
his　pleasure；　but；　for　the　more　safety　and　secrecie；　he　must　repaire
hither　to　your　house；　where　I　being　in　bed　insteed　of　your　daughter；
faire　Fortune　may　so　favour　mee；　that　（unknowne　to　him）　I　may　conceive
with　childe。　Upon　which　good　successe；　when　time　shall　serve；　having
the　Ring　on　my　finger；　and　a　childe　in　my　armes　begotten　by　him；　his
love　and　liking　may　be　recovered；　and　（by　your　meanes）　I　continue　with
my　Husband；　as　every　vertuous　Wife　ought　to　doe。
　　The　good　old　Lady　imagined；　that　this　was　a　matter　somewhat
difficult；　and　might　lay　a　blamefull　imputation　on　her　daughter。
Neverthelesse；　considering；　what　an　honest　office　it　was　in　her；　to
bee　the　meanes；　whereby　so　worthy　a　Countesse　should　recover　an
unkinde　husband；　led　altogether　by　lust；　and　not　a　jot　of　cordiall
love；　she　knew　the　intent　to　be　honest；　the　Countesse　vertuous；　and
her　promise　religious；　and　therefore　undertooke　to　effect　it。　Within
few　dayes　after；　verie　ingeniously；　and　according　to　the　instructed
order；　the　Ring　was　obtayned；　albeit　much　against　the　Counts　will；　and
the　Countesse；　in　sted　of　the　Ladies　vertuous　daughter；　was　embraced
by　him　in　bed：　the　houre　proving　so　auspicious；　and　juno　being　Lady　of
the　ascendent；　conjoyned　with　the　witty　Mercury；　shee　conceived　of　two
goodly　Sonnes；　and　her　deliverance　agreed　correspondently　with　the
just　time。
　Thus　the　old　Lady；　not　at　this　time　onely；　but　at　many　other　meetings
besides；　gave　the　Countesse　free　possession　of　her　husbands　pleasures；
yet　alwayes　in　such　darke　and　concealed　secrecie；　as　it　was　never
suspected；　nor　knowne　by　any　but　themselves；　the　Count　lying　with
his　owne　wife；　and　disappointed　of　her　whom　he　more　deerely　loved。
Alwayes　at　his　uprising　in　the　mornings　（which　usually　was　before
the　break　of　day；　for　preventing　the　least　scruple　of　suspicion）
many　familiar　conferences　passed　betweene　them；　with　the　gifts　of
divers　faire：　and　costly　jewels；　all　which　the　Countesse　carefully
kept；　and　perceiving　assuredly；　that　shee　was　conceived　with　childe；
shee　would　no　longer　bee　troublesome　to　the　good　old　Lady；　but　calling
her　aside；　spake　thus　to　her。　Madame；　I　must　needes　give　thankes　to
heaven　and　you；　because　my　desires　are　amply　accomplished；　and　both
time　and　your　deserts　doe　justly　challenge；　that　I　should
accordingly　quite　you　before　my　departure。　It　remaineth　now　in　your
owne　power；　to　make　what　demand　you　please　of　me；　which　yet　I　will　not
give　you　by　way　of　reward；　because　that　would　seeme　to　bee　base　and
mercenary：　but　onely　whatsoever　you　shall　receive　of　me；　is　in
honourable　recompence　of　faire　and　vertuous　deservings；　such　as　any
honest　and　well…minded　Lady　in　the　like　distresse；　may　with　good
credit　allow；　and　yet　no　prejudice　to　her　reputation。
　　Although　poverty　might　well　have　tutored　the　Ladies　tongue；
to…demand　a　liberall　recompence　for　her　paines；　yet　shee　requested　but
an　100　pounds；　as　a　friendly　helpe　towards　her　daughters　marriage；　and
that　with　a　bashfull　blushing　was　uttered　too；　yet　the　Countesse
gave　her　five　hundred　pounds；　besides　so　many　rich　and　costly
jewels；　as　amounted　to　a　farre　greater　summe。　So　shee　returned　to
her　wonted　lodging；　at　the　aged　widdowes　house；　where　first　shee　was
entertained　at　her　comming　to　Florence；　and　the　good　old　Lady；　to
avoyde　the　Counts　repairing　to　her　house　any　more；　departed　thence
sodainly　with　her　daughter；　to　divers　friends　of　hers　that　dwelt　in
the　Country；　whereat　the　Count　was　much　discontented；　albeit
afterward；　he　did　never　heare　any　more　tidings　of　hir　or　her　daughter；
who　was　worthily　married；　to　her　Mothers　great　comfort。
　　Not　long　after；　Count　Bertrand　was　recalled　home　by　his　people：
and　he　having　heard　of　his　wives　absence；　went　to　Roussillion　so
much　the　more　willingly。　And　the　Countesse　knowing　her　husbands
departure　from　Florence；　as　also　his　safe　arrivall