A / B / C / D / E /  F / G / H / I / J /  K / L / M / N / O /  P / R / S / T / UV / W / Z

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

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26






THE THIRTY-SIXTH NOUELL.

_Andreuccio of Perugia being come to Naples to buy horses, was in one
night surprised, with three marueilous accidentes. All which hauinge
escaped with one Rubie he retourned home to his house._


There was at Perugia a yong man, called Andreuccio di Pietro, a horse
corser, who vnderstanding of a horse faire at Naples, did put fiue
hundred Crownes in his pursse, and neuer traueling before from his owne
house, went thither with certaine other marchants, who arriued at Naples
vpon a Sonday at night. The next morninge, accordinge to the
instructions giuen him by his host, he went to the fayre, where he
viewed and saw many horses, whereof diuers did very well like him, and
demaunded their prises: but with none he could agree of price. And to
shew himselfe a right well able man to paye for that he boughte, many
times (like a dolte and foole as he was) hee drew out his pursse stuffed
with crownes, in the presence of them that passed to and fro. It
chaunced that a yonge woman of Scicilia (which was very fayre, but at
euery man's commaundement, and that for little hire) passed by as he was
shewinge his purse, not marked or perceiued by Andreuccio, who sodenlye
saide to her selfe: "What is she in all this towne, that should be like
vnto me, if all those crownes were mine?" And so passed forth. There was
with this yong peate, an old woman, a Scicilian also, who so sone as she
espied Andreuccio, forsoke her companion and ran affectuouslye to
imbrace him. Which the yong woman perceyuinge (not speaking a word) she
gaue good heede to that they said: Andreuccio tourninge himselfe to the
olde woman, immediatlye knew her, and reioysed muche that he had so
happely met her: whom after greate gratulacions and manye welcomes, she
promised to visite at his lodginge, which done, she departed from
Andreuccio, and hee retourned to buy his horsse, howbeit that morning he
bought none at all. The yonge dame, which had first seene this pursse,
and marked the acquaintaunce between the old woman and him, to assaie by
what meanes she might get that moneye, or at leaste some part thereof,
subtelly asked the old woman what man that was, of whence, what he did
there, and how he knew her. To whom the olde woman particularlye
recompted her whole acquaintaunce, how she dwelt of long time in
Scicilia with his father, and afterwards at Perugia. And likewise she
told her when he retourned, and for what cause hee was come to Naples.
This iollie wenche, wholy informed of Andreuccio his parentes, and of
their names, made a plat and foundation, by subtill and craftie meanes,
how to obtaine her purpose: and when she was come home to her house, she
sent the old woman about businesse for that day, because she might not
retourne to Andreuccio. She had dwelling with her a pretie girle, well
noseled and brought vp in doing of arrantes, whom about euening, she
sent to the lodging of Andreuccio to make inquirie for him: where by
fortune she chaunced to finde him standing alone at his hostes doore,
whom the girle did aske if he knew not an honest man of Perugia called
Andreuccio di Pietro, that hosted there: "Yes my girle (quoth he) I am
the same man." Then she toke him a side, and saide vnto him. "Sir, there
is a gentlewoman of this towne, that would gladly speake with you, if it
were your pleasure." Which when Andreuccio heard, by and by hee called
to minde, and seemed to himselfe that hee was a goodly yonge man of
person, and that withoute doubte the same woman was in loue with him,
because in all Naples he thought ther was none so proper a stripling as
himselfe: whom incontinently he aunsweared, that he would waite vpon
her, demaunding when he should come and to what place. To whom she made
answere. "Euen when it pleaseth you sir, for my maistresse attendeth at
home for you.{"} Andreuccio vpon that, withoute any word spoken to his
hoste, whither he was gone, said to the wench. "Go thou before, and I
will follow." And the girle did conduct him to her maistres house, which
dwelt in a streate called Marpertugio, a name shewing the honestie of
the streate, wher she dwelt. But he knowing and suspecting nothing,
thought the place to be right honest that he went vnto, and the wife
likewise honest and good, and boldlie entred the house, the wenche going
before: and mountinge vp the staiers, this yonge gristle called her
maistres, sayinge vnto her that maister Andreuccio was come. Who redie
at the vpper steppe, seemed as though she attended for him. This Ladie
was fine and had a good face, well apparelled and trimmed after the
beste maner. And seinge maister Andreuccio at hand, descended two
steppes of the staiers with her armes open to imbrace him, foldinge the
same aboute his necke, and paused a certaine space without speaking any
word, as thoughe great loue and earneste affection enforced her so to
doe. Then weeping, she kissed his face, and with a voice halfe vttered
betwene howling and speaking, she said vnto him: "O Andreuccio mine owne
deare hart, most hartely welcome." Andreuccio marueyling at those tender
words, all amazed aunsweared: "Gentlewoman, and you also well found
out." Afterwards she toke him by the hand and conueied him vp into a
parlour, and from thence (without further talke) into a chamber, which
was all perfumed with Roses, with flowers of Orenges, and other sweete
smelles: where he sawe a bedde well furnished, and diuers sortes of
apparell placed vppon presses (accordinge to the maner of that countrie)
and many other faire and riche ornaments. By reason whereof Andreuccio,
which was but a freshe water Souldiour, thought that shee had been a
great ladie. And they two sittinge together vppon a cheste, at her bed's
feete, she began thus to saye vnto him. "Andreuccio, I am assured you do
greatly wonder at these faire words, this curteous interteignement, and
at the teares which I let fall. And no marueile, although you do not
know mee, and peraduenture neuer heard tel of me before: but I wil
declare vnto you a thing more straunge and marueilous then that is: and
to tell you plaine, I am your owne sister, and I say vnto you, that sith
it hath pleased my Lord God, to shew me so much grace and fauour, that I
doe now see one of my brethren before I die (althoughe I desire to see
them all) I care not when hee do call mee from this wretched world: I am
so in minde comforted and releued. And where it may chaunce, that you
neuer vnderstoode so much before this time, I will tell you the whole
discourse. So it is, that Pietro my father and yours, dwelt of long time
(whereof it is possible, that you haue heard report) at Palermo, where
through the goodnesse and frendlye behauioure of him, there be yet some
remayninge that did beare him singular good wil and frendship. But
amonges other which loued him moste, my mother (which was a gentlewoman,
and then a widow) without doubt did loue him best: in such wise, that
shee forgetting the loue of her father, and of her brethren, and the
loue of her owne honour and reputation, they dealed so together as they
begat mee, and am here as you see. Afterwardes when your father and mine
had occasion to depart from Palermo, he retourned to Perugia, leauing my
mother behinde, and me his yong doughter, neuer after that (so farre as
I knowe) caringe neither for my mother or me: whereof if he were not my
father, I coulde blame him very much, consideringe his ingratitude
towards my mother. Albeit, he ought to vse towards mee so muche
affection and fatherlye loue as to his owne doughter, being come of no
kitchin maide, ne yet of anye base woman: for my mother otherwise not
knowinge what he was, did commit into his handes (moued of mere loue)
both herselfe and all that she had. But what? thinges ill done, and so
longe time past, are more easie to be reprehended then amended. Thus the
matter went, he left mee a litle infante at Palermo, where when I was
growen to yeares, my mother which was riche, gaue mee to wife, to one of
the house of Gergenti, a gentleman of great honesty and reputation, who
for the loue of my mother and me, retourned to dwell at Palermo, where
greatly fauouringe the faction of the Guelphi, hee began to practise a
certaine enterprise with oure king Charles, which being knowen to king
Frederick, before the same enterprise could take effect, we were forced
to flie out of Scicilia: at what time I had thought to haue been the
chiefest ladie, that euer dwelte in that Island. Wherfore taking with vs
such fewe things as wee were able to carie (fewe I maye well call them,
in respect of them we possessed) and leauinge our houses and Palaces, we
came vnto this citie: where we found kinge Charles so beningne towards
vs, that he hath recompenced part of our losses, which we sustened in
his seruice. For he hath giuen vs possessions and houses, with good
prouision of housholde to my husband and your brother in law, as you now
see and perceiue: and in this maner I do remaine here, where (sweete
brother) I thancke God (and not you) that at this present I see you:"
and therwithall she toke him about the necke, weeping tenderly, and then
kissed his face againe. Andreuccio hearing this tale spoken in order,
and digested from poinct to poinct with good vtterance, wherof no word
stucke betwene her teeth, or was impeached by default of tongue, and
remembring how it was true that his father dwelt at Palermo, knowing
also by himselfe the maner of yong men, which in their youth be prompte
and willinge to loue, and seinge her tender teares, her imbracinges and
honeste kisses, thoughte all that shee had spoken to be moste certaine
and true. And after shee had done her tale, he answered in this wise:
"Madame you may not thincke vnkindnesse, if I doe marueile at this, for
that in verye deede, I haue no acquaintaunce of you, no more then if you
had neuer beene borne: but whether my father hath spoken of you or of
your mother at any time, truly I do not now remember: but so much the
more I do reioyce that I haue founde a sister here (as I truste) because
I am here alone: and certainely I knowe none so honourable, but you may
seeme agreeable vnto him so well as to mee, which am but a poore
marchaunt: howbeit, I do beseeche you to tell me how you did know that I
was in the City." To whom she aunsweared: "This morning a poore woman
which oftentimes repaireth to my house, gaue mee knowledge thereof,
because of long time (as she told me) she did dwell with your father at
Palermo and at Perugia: and because I thought it more conuenient and
meete, to bidde you home to mine owne house then to seke you in another
man's, I thought good to send for you." After these words, she began in
order to inquire of the state of his parents, calling them by their
proper names: whereunto Andreuccio made aunswere, that now he perceiued
he had better cause to giue credite vnto her words then before. Their
discourse and talke of thinges being long and the weather hot, shee
called for Greke wine and comfits, and made Andreuccio to drinke. Who
after the banquet, desirous to depart to his lodging (for it was about
supper time) shee by no meanes woulde suffer him, but making as though
she were angrie, said vnto him: "Oh God! I see now most euidently, that
you do make little accompte of mee, being your owne sister whom you
neuer sawe before, and in her house: whereunto you ought to resorte when
so euer you come to towne: and will you nowe forsake the same to suppe
in an Inne? But of trouth you shall not chose but take part of my
supper: and althoughe my husbande be not at home (whereof I am righte
sorie,) yet you shall knowe that his wife is able to make you some good
chere." To whom Andreuccio, not knowing wel what to say els, made this
aunsweare: "I do loue you as I oughte to loue a sister: but if I goe not
to mine Inne, I know they will tarie for mee all this night before they
go to supper, to my great reproch and shame." "Praised be God (quoth she
then) I haue seruauntes to aduertise your host that you be here with me,
to the intente hee shall not tarrie for you. But pleaseth you sir, to do
me this great curtesie, that I may sende for your companions hither to
beare you company, that afterwardes, if you will needes depart, ye may
goe all together." Andreuccio aunsweared, that he would send for none of
his company that night: but for so much as she was so importunate, he
himselfe was righte well content to satisfie her request. Then she made
as thoughe shee had sent to his Inne to giue word that they should not
tarie for him: and after much communication supper was placed vppon the
table, serued in with manye deuises and sondrie delicates abundantly,
and she with like sleights continued the supper till it was darke night.
And when they rose from the table, Andreuccio made hast to departe, but
shee would not suffer him, tellinge him that Naples was a towne so
straight of orders that none might walke abrode in the night, and
specially straungers; and that like as she had sent word how they should
not tary for him at supper, euen so she had done for his bedde. All
which Andreuccio beleeuing, and taking pleasure that he was with his
sister, (deceiued though he were of his false beliefe) was wel contented
to tarie. Their talke and communication after supper was of purpose
dilated and protracted, and one part of the night being spent, she left
Andreuccio in his chamber going to bedde, and a litle boye to waite vpon
him to see that he lacked nothinge, and shee with her women went into
another chamber. The time of the yeare was very hotte, wherefore
Andreuccio being alone, striped himselfe and laid his hose and doublette
vnder his beddes head, and desirous to go to the priuie, he asked the
boie where it was, who pointing to the doore in a corner of the chamber,
said vnto him: "Goe in there." Andreuccio safely wente in, and chaunced
by Fortune to set his foote vpon a borde, which at both endes was loose
from the ioyst whereuppon it lay, by reason whereof the bord and he
tombled downe into the Iakes: and God so loued him, that in the fall he
receiued no hurt although it were of a good height, sauing he was
imbroined and arraied with the dunge of the place, wherof the Iakes was
full. Which place (to the intent you may the better vnderstand what is
said, and what shall follow) euen as it was I wil describe vnto you.
There was in a litle straighte entrie (as manye times we see betweene
two houses) certaine bordes laied vppon two Ioistes, betwene the one
house and the other: vpon which was placed the seate of the priuie, one
of which bordes was the same that fill downe with Andreuccio, who now
being in the bottome of the Iakes, sorowfull for that sodaine chaunce,
cried oute to the boie for helpe. But the boie so soone as hee hearde,
that hee was fallen, wente in to tell his maistres, whoe by and by ranne
into his chamber to seeke for his clothes: and when she had founde them,
and in the same his money, which Andreuccio like a foole, without
mistruste, still caried about him: she now possessed the thing for which
she had before laied the snare, in fayning her selfe to be of Palermo
and the doughter of one of Perugia. And caring no longer for him, she
straight way shut fast the priuy doore whereat he went forth when he
fell. Andreuccio seing that the boie would not aunswere, began to cry
out a loude, but all was in vaine: wherfore suspecting the cause, and
beginning somewhat to late to vnderstande the deceipt, he lept ouer a
litle wall which closed the place from the sight of the streat. And when
he was in the open streate he went to the dore of the house, which he
knew well ynough, makinge a noise, rapping hard and long at the doore,
but it was in vaine: for which cause he began to complaine and lamente,
like vnto one that manifestly saw his misfortune, saying: "Alas, in howe
litle time haue I lost fiue hundred crownes and a sister." And after
many other words, he began againe to bounse at the doore, and to crie
out. He rapped so long and cryed so loude, as he waked manye of the
neighbours there aboutes, who not able to suffer that noyse, rose out of
their beds, and amonges others one of the maides of the house (fayning
her selfe to be slepie) looked out at the window and said in great rage:
"What noise is beneath?" "Oh" saide Andreuccio, "do yee not know me?
I am Andreuccio, the brother of madame Floredelice?" "Thou hast droncke
to much me thinketh, (quoth the maide) go sleepe and come againe to
morow: I know none called Andreuccio, nor yet do vnderstand what thou
meanest by those foolish words, get thee hence good man and let vs
sleepe I pray thee." "Why (quoth Andreuccio) doest thou not heare me
what I say? thou knowest me well ynough if thou wilt, but if the
Scicilian kinred be so sone forgotten, giue me my clothes which I haue
left behinde me, and I will go hence with al my hart." Whereat the maide
laughed and saide: "I thincke the man is in a dreame:" and with that she
tourned her selfe and shut fast the window. Andreuccio now sure and
certaine of his losses, attached with incredible sorow, conuerted his
anger into rage, thoughte to recouer by anoiaunce that which he could
not get with fayre wordes. Wherefore takinge vp a bigge stone, he began
againe with greater blowes to beate at the doore. Which when manye of
the neighbours (that before were waked oute of their sleepe and risen)
did heare, thinking that it was some troublesome felow that
counterfeited those words to anoye the good wife of the house, and all
they likewise troubled with the noyse: loking out of the windowes, began
to rate him with one voice (like a sorte of Curres of one streate, which
doe baule and barke at a straunge Dogge that passeth by) sayinge: "This
is to much shame and villanie, to come to the houses of honest women at
that time of the night, and to speake such fonde wordes. Wherefore (good
man) gette thee hence for God's sake, and let vs sleepe: if thou haue
any thing to do with the good wife, come againe to morrow and disquiet
vs no more to night." With which woordes, as poore Andreuccio was
somewhat appeased, one that was within the house, a ruffian (that kept
the good wife) whom Andreuccio neuer saw, nor heard before: looked out
of the windowe, and with a bigge and horrible voice, demaunded who was
beneath? Whereat Andreuccio lifting vp his head, saw one, that so far as
he could perceiue, seemed to be a long lubber and a large, with a blacke
beard, and a sterne visage, looking as though he were newly rysen from
bedde, ful of sleepe, gaping and rubbing his eyes. Whom Andreuccio
aunsweared in fearefull wise, saying: "I am the good wiue's brother of
the house." But the Ruffian interrupting his answeare, speaking more
fiercely then at the first, said: "I know not who thou arte, but if I
come downe, I will so codgel and bombaste thee, as thou shalte not be
able to sturre thy selfe, like an asse and dronken beast as thou art,
which all this night wilt not suffer vs to slepe." And with these wordes
turning himselfe aboute, he shutte the windowe. Diuers of the neighbours
(which knewe better the conditions of that terrible Ruffian) speakinge
faire to Andreuccio, saide vnto him: "For God's sake good man, depart
hence in time, and suffer not thy selfe to be slaine:" "Gette thee hence
(quoth an other) and saye not but thou haddest warning." Whereat
Andreuccio being appalled, and with the Ruffians woordes and sight
amazed, moued likewise by the counsaile of the neighbours that spake to
him as he thoughte, in charitable wyse, toke his waye to retourne to his
Inne, the sorowfulles man that euer liued, and in greatest despaire, for
losse of his money. Turninge that way, wherein he was guided by a litle
girle the day afore, and anoyed with the stenche that he felt about him:
desirous to goe to the sea side to washe him, hee declined to muche on
the left hande, taking the waye vp to the streat called La Ruga
Catellana, and as hee was marching vp the highest parte of the citie, by
chaunce he sawe twoo men before him, with a lanthorne light in one of
their handes, coming towardes him, for auoyding of whom (because he
feared that it was the watche, or some other ill disposed persones) he
hidde him selfe in an olde house harde by. But they (as of purpose) went
to the very same place: where one of them discharging hym selfe of
certain instrumentes of yron, whiche he bare vpon his backe, both of
them did vewe and surueie those yrons, debating of diuers thinges
touching the same, and as they were talking togethers, one of them
sayde: "What meaneth this? I smel the foulest stenche, that euer I felte
in all my life." And when he had sayd so, he lifted vp the Lanthorne and
espied miserable Andreuccio couching behinde the wall, and being
afrayde, asked who it was, Andreuccio helde his peace. But they
approching neare him with their lighte, demaunded what hee made there,
so filthely araied. To whom Andreuccio rehersed the whole aduenture as
it chaunceth. Who considering the cause of that misfortune, sayd one to
an other: this no doubt was done in the house of Scarabone Butta Fuoco:
and tourning towardes Andreuccio, one of them sayde vnto him. "Good man,
although thou hast lost thy money, yet thou hast great cause to prayse
God that it was thy chaunce to falle, and not to enter againe into the
house: for if thou haddest not fallen, assure thy selfe that when thou
haddest bene a slepe, thy throte had bene cutte, and so with thy money
shouldest haue loste thy life. But what auaileth it nowe to wepe and
lament: for thou shalt so sone plucke the starres out of the Skye, as
euer recouer one peny of thy losse: and without doubt he will kill thee,
if hee vnderstande that thou make any wordes thereof." When they had
sayde so, and had giuen him that admonition, they comforted him in this
wyse. "Good felowe, we doe lament thy state: And therefore, if thou wilt
ioyne thy self with vs, about an enterprise, which we haue in hande: we
warraunt thee, thou shalt get a great deale more than thou hast loste."
Andreuccio like one in extreame dispaire, was content. The daie before
was buried one Messer Philippo Minutulo, an Archebishop of Naples, in
riche pontificalles and ornamentes, with a Rubie vpon his finger, that
was worth fiue hundred Ducates of golde, whome they purposed to robbe
and dispoile, telling Andreuccio the whole order of their intent: who
more couetous, then well aduised, went with them. And going towardes the
great church: Andreuccio his perfume began to sente very strong,
whereupon one of them sayde. "Is it not possible to deuise a waye, that
this shitten beaste may washe him selfe in some place, that he stinke no
more thus filthelie?" "Yes, (quod the other) there is a pitte here harde
by, ouer whiche there hangeth a pulley, and a great bucket, where we may
presently washe him." When they were come to the pitte, they founde the
rope hanging still vpon the pulley, but the bucket was taken away:
wherefore they thought beste to tie him to the rope, and to let him
downe the pitte to washe him selfe: and that when he was washed, he
should wagge the rope, and they woulde hoiste him vp againe. Whiche they
did. But it chaunced that whiles he was thus clensing him selfe in the
pitte: the watche of the citie (because they swette and the night was
very hot), being drie and thirstie came to the pitte to drinke. The
other twoo perceiuing the watche at hande, left Andreuccio in the pitte
and ranne awaye. The watche whiche was come thether to drinke, perceiued
not those two that were fledde; and Andreuccio being still in the
bottome, when he had clensed him selfe, began to wagge the rope. The
watche sitting downe by the pittes syde caste of their clokes and layde
downe their halbardes and other weapons, and began to drawe vp the rope,
thinking that the bucket full of water was tied to the same. When
Andreuccio was haled vp, to the brincke of the pitte, hee forsoke the
rope, and cast him selfe with one of his handes vpon the syde of the
same. When the watche sawe that, they for feare ranne away so faste as
they could without speaking any worde. Wherof Andreuccio did marueile
very much: and if he had not taken good holde, he had fallen agayne
downe to the bottome, to his great hurt, and peraduenture not without
peril of his life. Notwithstanding being out of the pitte, and finding
halberdes and other weapons there, which he knew wel his fellowes
brought not with them: he then began muche more to wonder. But betwene
feare and ignoraunce of that which happened, complaining him self of his
harde fortune, without touching of any thing, he determined to go from
thence, and wandred he could not tell whether. But as he was departing
from that place, he met his fellowes, retiring backe to drawe him vp.
And when they perceiued him alredie haled out of the pitte, they wer
wonderfully abashed, and asked who drewe him out? Andreuccio made
aunswere, that he coulde not tell, rehearsing to them in order, what had
chaunced, and of the things he founde without. They vnderstanding the
matter, laughed and tolde him againe the cause, wherefore they ran
awaye, and what they were that drewe him vp. And without further talke
(being then about midnight, they repaired to the great churche: into the
whiche they easely entred: and wente to the Tombe, whiche was of Marble,
verie huge and weightie: the couer whereof being verye great, with their
crowes of yron, and other tooles, they lifted vp so farre, as one man
was able to enter, which doen, one asked an other, who should goe in?
"Not I" quod one: "And not I" (quod the other) "No, nor I" quod
Andreuccio. The other twoo hearing Andreuccio saye so, stepped vnto hym,
saying: "Wilte thou not goe in? by the faythe wee owe to God: if thou
goe not in, we will so beate thee, with one of these yron barres, as
thou shalt neuer sturre againe out of this place." Andreuccio being made
their common riding foole, greately fearing when he heard them saye so,
went in: and when he was in the graue, he sayde vnto him selfe. "These
good felowes do make me goe in, because they would deceiue me: for when
I haue geuen them all that is here, and I readie to come out, they meane
to runne awaie to saue them selues, and to leaue me behinde without any
parte thereof." Wherfore he purposed first, to take his owne porcion to
him selfe: and remembring the Ring of great valour, whereof they tolde
him: so sone as he was in the graue, he pulled it of from the
Archebishop's finger, and put it vpon his own: and afterwardes taking
the Crosse, the Miter and the Gloues, dispoyling him euen to his shyrt,
he gaue them all saying. "That there was nothing els." But they pressing
vpon him that there was a ring behinde, willed him throughly to make
searche for it: howebeit he still aunswered that he could not finde it.
And because he would make them to tarie a litle longer, he fained as
though he had made a further searche. The other so subtile and malicious
as he, bad him to seke stil: and when they saw time, they toke away the
proppes that staied vp the Tombe, and ran awaye, leauing poore
Andreuccio fast shutte in the graue. Whiche when Andreuccio perceiued,
what chaunced to him then, eche man may consider: then he assaied some
times with his shoulders, sometimes with his head, to remoue the couer,
but all was in vaine. Wherefore euen for verie sorowe, he fell in a
sownde vpon the dead bodie of the Bishop. And if a man had seene them
both at that instant, it coulde not well haue bene discerned, whether
was the dead corps, the Archebishhope dead, or poore Andreuccio dying:
but after he was come to him self, he began piteously to complaine,
seing hee was arriued to one of these twoo endes, either in the Tombe to
die for hunger, and with the stenche of the dead bodie, putrifying with
wormes, if no man came to open it: or els to be hanged as a thiefe, if
hee were founde within: and as he was in these considerations tormented
with sorowe: he heard a noyse in the church of diuers men, who as he
thought came to the like facte, that he and his felowes had done before,
wherewith his feare began much more to augmente. But after they had
opened the graue and stayed it vp, it came in question amongs them who
should go in. And when they had contended a good space about the same,
a priest that was in the companie sayde. "Why are ye afrayde? doe ye
thinke that hee will eate you? the dead neuer eate men: I will go in my
selfe." And when he had sayde so, he laied him downe vpon his breste at
the side of the graue, and thrusting his feete in before, he went downe.
Andreuccio seeing that, erected him selfe vpright and caught the Priest
by one of the legges, making as though he would haue drawen him in:
which when the priest perceiued, he cried out a loude, speeding him self
out so fast as he could. Wherewithal the reste dismaied almoste out of
their wittes, leauing the graue open, toke their legges and ran, as
though a hundred thousand deuels had bene at their tailes: whiche seing,
Andreuccio (more ioyful then he looked for) lepte out of the graue, and
ran as faste as he could out of the Churche, at the place where he came
in. At what time dayelight began to appeare, and he with the ringe on
his finger, wandred he wiste not whether, tyll he came to the Seaside,
and at length recouered his Inne, where he founde his companie and his
hoste al that night, taking greate care for him. To whome recompting
that whiche chaunced, his hoste gaue him aduise incontinently, to get
him out of Naples, whiche presently he did: and retourned to Perugia,
hauing bestowed his v. C. crownes vpon a rynge, whiche he thought to
haue imploied vpon horses: for whiche cause he made that iourney.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26
Copyright (c) 2007. topboookz.com. All rights reserved.