Various - "Georgian Poetry 1916 17"

G. A. Henty - "With Buller in Natal"

Joseph Coppinger - "The American Practical Brewer and Tanner"

Richard F. Burton - "The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, Volume 2"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

The Palace of Pleasure, Volume 1

W >> William Painter >> The Palace of Pleasure, Volume 1







THE THIRTY-FOURTH NOUELL.

_Three yonge men hauing fondlye consumed all that they had, became verie
poore, whose nephewe (as he retourned out of Englande into Italie,) by
the waye fell into acquaintaunce with an abbote, whome (vpon further
familiaritie) he knewe to be the king of Englandes doughter, whiche
toke him to husbande. Afterwardes she restored his vncles to all their
losses, and sent them home in good state and reputation._


There was sometyme in the citie of Florence, a knight called Sir
Tebaldo, who as some saie, was of the house of Lamberti: and as other
affirme, of Agolanti. But leauing the variaunce of whether house he was,
true it is, that hee was in that time a notable riche and wealthy
knight, and had three sonnes. The firste called Lamberto, the seconde
Tebaldo, and the thirde Agolante, all faire and goodly yonge men: and
the eldest of whiche was not XVIII. yeares of age. When the sayde Sir
Tebaldo died, to them (as his lawefull heires) he lefte all his landes
and goodes. Who being verie ryche in readie money and possessions,
continued their life without gouernement at their owne pleasures, and
without brydle or stay they began to consume their goodes. They kepte a
greate and franke house, and many Horses of great value, with Dogges and
Haukes of sundrie kyndes, giuing liberall giftes, and obseruing diuerse
gestes at Tilte and Torney: doing also that whiche not onely did
appertayne and belonge to Gentlemen, but also that whiche was incident
to the trade and course of youthe. They continued not long in this
order, but their substaunce lefte them by their father, was very muche
consumed. And their reuenues (not able to mainteine their expences)
began to decrease, whereupon they were fayne to morgage and sell their
inheritaunce, in suche wyse as in the ende they grewe to extreme
pouertie. And then penurie did open their eyes, in like sorte as before
riches had closed them vp. For whiche cause, Lamberto vpon a daye did
cal his other twoo brethren vnto him, and tolde them of what honour
their father was, to what value his rychesse did amounte, and nowe to
what pouertie they were come through their disordinate expences: giuing
them counsaile (so well as he could) that before miserie did growe any
further vpon them, by selling that whiche was lefte, they shoulde goe
their waye: whiche they did. And without leaue taken of any man, or
other solempnitie, they departed from Florence, and taried in no place
before they were arriued in Englande. Where taking a litle house in the
citie of London, they liued with litle expences, and began to lende out
their money to vsurie: and Fortune was so fauourable vnto them by that
trade, that in few yeares they had gayned a verie notable somme of
money, whiche made them one after an other, to retire agayne to Florence
with their substaunce: where they redemed a great part of their
inheritaunce, and bought other lande, and so gaue them selues to
mariage: continuing neuerthelesse in Englande, their money at interest.
They sent thither to be their factour, a yonge man their nephewe, called
Alexandro. And they three dwelling still at Florence, began agayne to
forget to what miserie their inordinate expences hadde brought them
before. And albeit they were charged with housholde, yet they spent out
of order, and without respect, and were of great credite with euery
Marchaunt: whose expences, the money that Alexandro many times did send
home, did helpe to supporte for certaine yeares, which was lent out to
diuers gentlemen and Barons of the countrey, vpon their Castelles,
Manours, and other reuenues, wherof was receiued an incredible profite.
In the meane time the three brethren spent so largely, as they borowed
money of other, fixing all their hope from Englande. It chaunced that
warres happened betwene the king of England, and one of his sonnes,
whiche bredde muche diuision in that lande, some holding of one parte,
and some of an other. By meanes whereof, all the Manours and morgaged
landes, were taken awaye from Alexandro, hauing nothing wher vpon any
profite did ryse. Howebeit he dailye trusted that peace shoulde bee
concluded betweene the father and the sonne, and that all thinges should
be surrendred, as well the principall as the interest: determining vppon
that hope not to departe the Countrie. The three brethren whiche were at
Florence, not limitting any order to their disordinate expences, grewe
daylye worse and worse. But in processe of tyme, when all hope was paste
of their recouerye, they loste not onely their credite, but the
creditours desirous to be payde, were fayne to sende them to pryson. And
because their inheritaunce was not sufficient to paye the whole debte,
they remayned in pryson for the reste, and their wiues and children wer
dispersed, some into the countrie, and some hether and thether, out of
order, not knowing how to do, but to abide a poore and miserable life
for euer. Alexandro which of long time taried for a peace in Englande,
and seing that it came not to passe, considering also with him selfe
(ouer and besides his vaine abode, for recouerie of his debtes) that he
was in daunger of his life, he purposed to retourne into Italie. And as
he trauailed by the waye alone, and departed from Bruges, by fortune he
perceiued an abbot clothed in white, in like maner about to take his
iourney, accompanied with many Monkes, and a great traine: hauing much
cariage and diuers baggages before. After whome rode twoo olde knightes,
the kinsmen of the king, with whom Alexandro entred acquaintance by
reason of former knowledge, and was receiued into their companie.
Alexandro then riding with them frendlye, demaunded what Monkes they
were that rode before with so great a trayne, and whether they went. To
whome one of the knightes aunswered, that he which rode before, was a
yonge gentleman their kinsman, which was newly chosen Abbot of one of
the best Abbaies in England. And because he was verie yonge, and not
capable by the decrees, of suche a dignitie, they went with him to Rome,
to obteine of the holy father a dispensation for his age, and for a
confirmation of that office. But they willed him to disclose the same to
no man. And so this newe Abbot, riding sometimes before and sometimes
after, as wee see ordinarelie that Lordes doe when they trauell in the
countrie, it chaunced that the Abbot espying Alexandro riding besides
him, which was a faire yonge man, honest, curteous, and familier, who at
the first meting did so marueilously delight him, as any thing that euer
he sawe in his life, and calling him vnto him, he began familiarly to
talke, and asked what he was, from whence he came, and whether he went.
To whom Alexandro declared liberally all his state, and satisfied his
demaunde, offering vnto him (although his power was litle) al the
seruice he was able to do. The Abbot hearing his courteous offer and
comely talke, placed in good order, considering more particulerly the
state of his affaires, and waying with him selfe, that albeit his traine
was small yet neuerthelesse he semed to be a gentleman, and then pitying
his mishappes, he recomforted him familiarly, and saide vnto him: That
hee ought dailye to liue in good hope, for if he were an honest man, God
would aduaunce him againe not only to that place from whence fortune had
throwen him downe, but also to greater estimation: praying him that
sithens he was going into Thuscane, whether he likewyse went, that it
would please him to remaine in his companie. Alexandro thanked him
humblie of his comfort, and said vnto him that he was redie to imploy
him selfe where it should please him to commaunde. The Abbot thus
riding, (into whose minde newe thoughts entred vpon the sight of
Alexandro) it chaunced, after manie daies iournies, they arriued at a
village that was but meanly furnished with lodging. The Abbot desirous
to lodge there, Alexandro intreated him to light at the Inne of an hoste
which was familiarly knowen vnto him, and caused a chamber to be made
redie for him selfe in the worste place of the house. And the Marshall
of the Abbot's lodgings, being alreadie come to the towne, (which was a
man very skilfull in those affaires) he lodged al the traine in that
village, one here, an other there, so well as he could. And by that time
the Abbot had supped, night was farre spente, and euerie man repaired to
his lodging. Alexandro demaunded the hoste wher he should lie? To whom
the hoste made aunswere "Of a trouthe Maister Alexandro I knowe not, for
you see that all my house is so full, as I and my housholde are faine to
lie vpon the benches: howe be it, I haue certaine garrettes, harde
adioyning to the lorde Abbottes chamber, where I may place you very
well, and I wyll cause my folkes to beare thither a pallet, where if you
please, you may lodge this night." To whome Alexandro said. "But how
shall I passe through the Abbot's chamber, the rowme being so streight
as not one of his Monkes is able to lie there. But if I had knowen it
before, the Curteins had bene drawen, I would haue caused his Monkes to
haue lien in the Garret, and I my self would haue lodged where they do."
Wherunto the hoste saide, "It is doen nowe, but (me thinke) you may if
you liste lie there so well, as in any place of the house. The Abbot
being asleepe, and the Courteins drawen, I wyll softly and without noyse
conueye a pallette thyther." Alexandro perceiuing that the same might be
done, without any anoiaunce to the Abbot, agreed and conueyed him selfe,
so secretlye as hee coulde, through the chamber. The abbot whiche was
not a sleepe (but gaue him selfe to thinke and imagine vpon his newe
desires) heard the wordes that were spoken, betweene the hoste and
Alexandro, and likewise vnderstanding where Alexandro lay, was verie
well contente in him selfe, and began to saye: "The Lorde hath sent me a
tyme fauourable to satisfie my desyres, whiche if I doe not nowe
receiue, peraduenture the like will neuer be offred againe." Wherfore
perswading with him selfe to take that present occasion, and supposing
likewyse, that euery man was a sleepe, he called Alexandro so softlie as
he could, and willed him to come and lie beside him: who after many
excuses, when his clothes were of came vnto him. The Abbot laying his
arme ouer him, began to attempte suche amorous toyes, as be accustomed
betweene twoo louers: whereof Alexandro meruayled muche, and doubted
that the Abbot being surprysed with dishonest loue, had called him to
his bedde of purpose to proue him. Whiche doubt the Abbot (either by
presumption, or some other acte done by Alexandro) vnderstanding:
incontinently began to smyle, and to putte of his shyrte whiche he ware,
and toke Alexandro's hande, and laide it ouer his stomacke, saying vnto
him: "Alexandro, cast out of thy mynde thy vnhonest thought, and fele
here the thing which I haue secrete." Alexandro laying his hande ouer
the Abbottes stomacke, perceiued that he had twoo breastes, rounde and
harde, the skinne whereof was verie fine and tender, whereby he
perceiued that hee was a woman, whom incontinently hee embraced, and
without looking for any other inuitation, he would haue kissed her, but
she saide vnto him: "Before thou approche any nearer, marke what I shall
saye vnto thee. I am a woman and not a man, as thou maiest perceiue, but
being departed a maid from my house, I am going to the Pope, to praye
him to place me in mariage. But when I first viewed thee, the other
daye, whether it was through thy good fortune, or my mishap, loue
attached me in suche wyse as neuer woman loued man, as I do thee, and
therefore I do purpose to take thee to husbande before all other: but if
thou wilt not take me to wife get the hence and retourne to thyne owne
bedde." Alexandro although hee knewe her not, yet hauing regarde vnto
the companie and traine that folowed her, iudged her to be some noble
and riche Ladie: on the other parte, he sawe that she was a personage
right beautifull and faire, therefore without any further consideration,
he answered. "That for so muche as her pleasure was such, he was verie
well contented." Shee then sitting vp in her bedde, hauing a litle table
(wherin the picture of Christe was painted) indowed him with a ringe,
doing the order of espousalles, and afterwards embracing one an other,
to their great contentation and pleasure, they ioyfully continued
together that night. And after they had deuised and concluded the order
and meanes to order their affaires from that time foorth, Alexandro, so
sone as it was daye, rose vp and went out of the chamber that waye he
came in, without knowledge to any man where he lay that night. Then
right ioyfull and glad, he proceaded in his iourney with the abbot and
his companye, and within fewe daies arriued at Rome. And when they had
remained there a certain time, the Abbot taking with him but the twoo
knightes and Alexandro, went to the Pope: where doing to him their due
reuerence, the Abbot began to speake in this wyse. "Holie father (as
your holinesse doth better knowe then any other) euery man that
purposeth to liue an honest life, ought to auoyde (so muche as lieth in
him) all occasions that may drawe him to the contrary. Which to
th'intent I that am desirous to leade an honest life, may fully
performe, am secretly fled and arriued here, in the habite wherin you
see, with a good porcion of the king of Englandes treasure, who is my
father: that your holines may bestow me in mariage, for so muche as my
father woulde giue me to wife (which am a yonge gentlewoman as you see)
to the Scottishe king, a very riche and welthy Prince, but yet very olde
and decrepite. And his olde age was not so much the occasion of my
departure, as the feare which I conceiued (through the frailtie of my
youth to be maried vnto him,) to commit a thing that should be contrarie
to the lawe of God, and the honour of the bloud roiall of my father. And
in coming hitherwardes, being in this deepe deliberation with myself,
almighty God, who only knoweth assuredly, what is nedeful and necessary
for vs al, did place before mine eies (through his gracious mercy as I
trust,) him that he thinketh mete to be my husband, which is this yonge
gentleman (pointing to Alexandro) whom you see standing besides me. The
honestie and worthinesse of whome is well able to matche with any great
lady, how honorable so euer she be, although per aduenture, the
nobilitie of his bloud is not so excellent as that which procedeth from
the roiall and Princely stock. Him then haue I chosen to be my husband,
him I will haue and none other, whatsoeuer my father shall say, or any
other to the contrarie. Wherefore the principall occasion that moued me
to come hither, is now dispatched. But I will accomplishe and performe
the rest of my voyage, as well to visite the holy and reuerent places
(wherof this citie is ful) and your holinesse: as also that the contract
of mariage (hitherto only made in the presence of God, betwene Alexandro
and me,) may be consumate openly in the presence of you, and
consequently in the sight of all men: Wherfore I humbly beseche your
fatherhode, to be agreable vnto that whiche it hath pleased God and mee
to bring to passe, and that you would giue vs your benediction, to the
intent we may liue together in the honour of God, to the perfection and
ende of our life." Alexandro greatly marueiled, when he vnderstoode that
his wife was the doughter of the king of Englande, and was rapte with an
vnspeakeable ioye. But much more marueiled the two knightes, which were
so troubled and appalled, that if they had bene in any place els, sauing
in the presence of the Pope, they woulde haue killed Alexandro, and
peraduenture the lady her self. On the other part the Pope was verie
much astonned, both at the habite and apparell of the Lady, and also of
her choise. But knowing that the same could not be vndone, he was
content to satisfie her request. And first of all he comforted the two
knightes, whom he knewe to be moued at the matter, and reduced them in
amitie, with the lady and Alexandro: then he gaue order what was beste
to be done. And when the mariage daie, by him appointed, was come, hee
caused the Ladie to issue forth, clothed in roiall vestures, before al
the Cardinalles, and many other great personages that were repayred to
the great feaste, of purpose by hym prepared. Whiche Ladie appeared to
be so fayre and comelie that not without deserte shee was praysed and
commended of all the assemblie. In like maner Alexandro, gorgeouslie
apparelled, both in outwarde apparaunce and condicions, was not like one
that had lent monie to Vsurie, but of a more Princelie grace and was
greatelye honoured of those twoo knightes, where the Pope solempnely
celebrated (againe) the espousalles. And after that ryche and royall
mariage was ended, he gaue them leaue to departe. It seemed good to
Alexandro, and likewise to the Lady, to goe from Rome to Florence, in
whiche citie, the brute of that accidente was alreadie noysed, where
being receiued of the citizens with great honour, the Ladie deliuered
the three brethren out of prison, and hauing firste payde euerie man
their debte, they with their wiues, were repossessed in their former
inheritaunce. Then Alexandro and his wife, with the good will and
ioyfull gratulations of all men departed from Florence, and taking with
them Agolante, one of their vncles, arriued at Paris, where they were
honourably interteigned of the Frenche king. From thence the twoo
knightes went into England, and so perswaded the king, that they
recouered his good will towardes his doughter: and sending for his sonne
in lawe, hee receiued them both with great ioy and triumphe. And within
a whyle after, he inuested his saide sonne with the order of knight
hode, and made him Earle of Cornewale, whose wisedome proued so great,
as hee pacified the father, and the sonne whereof insued, surpassing
profite and commoditie for the whole Realme, whereby also he gained and
got the loue and good will of all the people; and Agolante his vncle,
fully recouered all debtes, due vnto him in Englande. And the Earle when
he had made his vncle knightes suffered him to retourne in riche estate
to Florence. The Earle afterwardes liued with his wife in great
prosperitie (and as some do affirme) both by his own pollicie and
valiaunce, and with the aide of his father in lawe, he recouered and
ouercame the Realme of Scotlande, and was there crowned Kyng.




THE THIRTY-FIFTH NOUELL.

_Landolpho Ruffolo being impooerished, became a pirate and taken by
the Geneuois, was in daunger of drowning, who sauing himselfe vpon a
litle coafer full of rich iewels, was receiued at Corfu, and beinge
cherished by a woman, retourned home very riche._


It is supposed, that the sea coast of Reggium (in Calabria) in the most
delectable part in all Italy, wherin (hard by Salerno) there is a
countrye by the Sea Side, which the inhabitauntes doe terme the coast of
Malfy, so full of litle cities, gardeines, fountaines, riche men and
marchauntes, as any other people and countrie. Among which said cities,
there was one called Rauello, where in time past (althoughe in these
dayes there be very rich men), there dwelte a notable man of substaunce,
called Landolpho Ruffolo: who being not contented with his riches, but
desirous to multiplye them double, was in hazarde to lose himselfe, and
all that he had. This man, (as all other marchauntes be accustomed)
after he had considered with himselfe what to doe, boughte a very greate
shippe, and sraughted the same with sondrye kindes of marchaundize of
his owne aduenture, and made a voyage to the Isle of Cypri, where he
found (besides the commodities which he brought) many other shippes
arriued there, laden with such like wares: by which occasion it
happened, that hee was forced not onelye to sell the same good cheape,
but also was constrained (if hee woulde dispatch his goodes) to giue
them almost for nought, whereby he thoughte that he was vtterly vndone.
And being greatly troubled for that losse, not knowing what to doe, and
seing how in so litle a time, of a rich man he was come to begger state,
he thoughte either to die, or els by piracie to recouer his losses, to
the intent he might not returne to the place poore, from whence he was
departed riche. And hauing founde a copeseman for his great barque, with
the money thereof, and with other which hee receiued for his
marchandise, he boughte a small pinnas, meete for the vse of a pirate,
which he armed and furnished with al thinges necessary for that purpose:
and determined to make himselfe riche with the goodes of other men, and
chiefelye hee ment to set vppon the Turkes: whereunto fortune was more
fauourable then to his former trade: and by chaunce, by the space of one
yeare, he robbed and toke so many Foistes and galleis of the Turkes, as
he had recouered not onely that which he loste by marchaundise, but also
more then twise so muche as whereunto those losses did amounte.

Wherfore, well punished with the first sorow of his losses, knowing his
gaines to multiplie, as he needed not returne the seconde time, he
thoughte with himselfe that the same which he had gotten was
sufficiente: and therefore determined presently to returne to his owne
house with his gotten goods. And fearing the hinderance which he
susteined in traffique of Marchaundise, hee purposed to imploie his
moneye no longer that wayes, but in that barque wherewith hee had gained
the same, with his ores hee tooke his course homeward: and being vppon
the maine Sea, in the night the wind rose at the Southeast, which was
not onely contrary to his course, but also raised such a tempest, as his
smal barque was not able to indure the Seas. Wheruppon he toke
harborough in a Creke of the Sea, whiche compassed a litle Ilande, there
expecting for better wind. Into which creke within a while after, with
much a do for auoyding of that tempest, arriued two great Argoseis of
Genoa, that were come from Constantinople: the mariners of which greate
shippes, when they sawe the litle barque, they closed vp the waye, that
the pinnas could not goe out. And then vnderstanding of whence he was,
and knowinge by report, that he was very riche, determined (being men
naturally giuen to spoile and loue of money,) to take her. And setting a
shore part of their men, well armed and furnished with crossebowes, they
conueied themselues to keepe and defende that none within the Pinnas
(except they woulde be shot through) was able to escape: then retiring
into their skiftes, with helpe of the Tide they approched Landolpho his
barque, which without any great difficultie, in a small space they toke
with all the company, not loosing so much as one man. And carying
Landolpho aborde one of their cockes, and all within borde his little
Pinnas, they soncke the same and al the Mariners, and kept Landolpho,
suffering him not to haue about him any kind of armure, not so much as
an haberion. The next day the winde chaunged, and the shippes hoisted vp
sailes toward Leuant, and all that day prosperouslie sailed on their
voyage. But vpon the closing of the night, a storme rose againe, and
separated the two ships, one from another, and by force of the wind, it
chaunced the ship wherein poore Landolpho was, strake with great
violence vpon a sande, in the Iland of Cephalonia: and as one would
throw a glasse against a wall, euen so the shippe opened, and fell in
peeces, whereby the sorowfull Mariners that stoode aboue, (the seas
being couered with goodes, coaffers and plancks of the ship that swam
aboue water, which chaunceth many times in such like accidents, the
night being darke and the billowes going high and streinable,{)} such as
were able to swim, began to take holde of those thinges which Fortune
gaue vnto them. Amonges whom wretched Landolpho, seinge death before his
face (which he so greatly desired, and so many times craued the day
before, rather then to retourne home in that poore estate) was afraied,
and caught hold of a borde amonges the rest, trusting it might chaunce
that God woulde pardon him of drowninge, and sende him some refuge for
his escape. And as hee was a horseback, and fletinge vpon a plancke, so
wel as he could, (driuen here and there with the Sea and winde) he helde
faste the same till it was day lighte: which when he perceiued, he
looked about him and saw nothing but the cloudes, the Seas, and a
coaffer, swimminge aboue water, which was driuen so nere him, that it
made him manye times to feare that it would be his ouerthrow. And the
nerer it came, the more hee laboured to put it backe (so well as he
could) with his hande, although his force and power was gone: but how
soeuer it chaunced, a gale of winde blew out of the skies, and strake
the coaffer against the borde whereuppon Landolpho was, who by that
meanes driuen backe, was forced to giue ouer the plancke, and with a
billow was beaten vnder the water, and afterwardes, remounting aloft
againe, hee swam more through feare then force. And seing the borde
caried a farre of from him, fearinge lest he should not be able to
fasten the same againe, he drewe toward the coafer which was nere ynough
vnto him, and laying his breaste vpon the couer thereof, he made it go
(so right as he could) with his armes. And in this maner driuen by the
Sea, now here now there, without eating (as hauing not wherwithall) and
drinking more then he would, he continued al that day and night
following not knowing wher he was, for he sawe nothing but sea. The next
morning, eyther by the will of God, or throughe the windes force,
Landolpho (which was then transfformed into a sponge) holding faste with
both his handes the brimme of the coafer, (like as we see them that
feare to be drowned, do take hold of the next thinge that commeth to
hande,) arriued at the shore of the Isle of Corfu, wher by fortune,
a poore woman was scowring her vessell with Sand and salt water, who
seing him draw nere, and perceyuing in him no forme or fashion of a man,
was afraid, and crying out ranne backe. He not able to speake, and see
but very litle, could say nothinge, but as the Sea droue him nere the
shore, the woman discryed the likenes of a coafer, and beholding the
same more aduisedlye, saw at length his armes vpon the same and
therewithal his face, marueiling with her selfe who it should be:
wherfore moued with compassion, she wente into the Sea a litle waye,
which then was calme, and catching him by the heare, she pluckte him and
the coafer to lande: and with much a doe vnfolded his armes that were
about the coafer, causing her maide that was with her to carrie the
coafer vpon her head: and she bare him to lande, (like a litle childe,)
which done, she put him into a hotte house, and with warme water, by
frotting and robbing him, his naturall heate, and other his sences lost,
began to come againe into their former course. And when he saw time she
toke him out, cherishing and comfortinge him with wynes and brothes, and
so well as shee could, made him at length to recouer his force in such
wise as he knew wher he was. Then the woman deliuered him his coafer,
which he had saued, and badde him to seeke his aduenture. And thus this
good wife delt with Landolpho, who litle esteemed the coafer, but yet he
considered that it coulde not be of so small value, but that it was able
to beare his charges for certaine dayes. Howbeit, feelinge it to be
lighte, he was cleare voyde of hope to haue anye succour and reliefe
thereof. Neuerthelesse (when the good wyfe was out of the doores) he
brake open the same to see what was within, where he found many precious
Jewels, some bound together and some loose, wherein he had pretie skill:
and knowing them to be of great value, giuing thanckes to God, which had
not yet forsaken him, was wholy recomforted. Howbeit, for so much as in
a litle space he had bin twise cruellye distressed and tormented by
Fortune, fearing the third time, he thought that it was needeful for him
to take heede how to dispose his things in safetie till he came home to
his owne house. Wherefore hauing bestowed those precious Jewels in
certaine ragges and cloutes so well as he could, he said to the good
wife that he had no neede of the coafer, but if shee woulde giue him a
bagge, he would bestow the same vppon her: which the good wife willingly
did. And Landolpho geuing her so great thanckes as he coulde, for the
kindnes which he had found at her hands, toke his leaue, and imbarking
himselfe, he passed to Branditio, and from thence from place to place
till hee came to Trani, where findinge diuers of the Citie wherein he
dwelt, that were Drapers, he was apparelled of them (in a maner for Gods
sake) to whom he told the discourse of all his fortune, except the
coafer, who lent him a horse, and sente diuers in his company to bring
him home to Rauello. And when he was in safety arriued, he thanked God
that had brought him thither, where he searched his bouget with more
leasure then he did at the first, and founde that he had manye stones of
so greate value, that sellinge them at price reasonable, for lesse then
they were worth, his substaunce did amount to so much more then it was
when he departed from his house. And when he had founde the meanes to
dispatch and sell his Jewels, he sent to Corfu a good peece of money, to
the woman that toke him oute of the Sea, to recompence the kindnes, that
he had found at her handes: and the like to them of Trani, that had
giuen him apparell, the rest he toke to himselfe and would be no more a
Marchaunte, but liued at home in honest estate to the ende of his life.

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