from his comrade that it was given by way of price,
the lady made answer:—“That will
I gladly; but I must first see whether the amount is
right;” whereupon she told the florins out upon
a table, and when she found that the two hundred were
there, she put them away in high glee, and turning
to Gulfardo, took him into her chamber, where, not
on that night only but on many another night, while
her husband was away, he had of her all that he craved.
On Guasparruolo’s return Gulfardo presently paid
him a visit, having first made sure that the lady
would be with him, and so in her presence:—“Guasparruolo,”
quoth he, “I had after all no occasion for the
money, to wit, the two hundred florins of gold that
thou didst lend me the other day, being unable to
carry through the transaction for which I borrowed
them, and so I took an early opportunity of bringing
them to thy wife, and gave them to her: thou
wilt therefore cancel the account.” Whereupon
Guasparruolo turned to the lady, and asked her if she
had had them. She, not daring to deny the fact
in presence of the witness, answered:—“Why,
yes, I had them, and quite forgot to tell thee.”
“Good,” quoth then Guasparruolo, “we
are quits, Gulfardo; make thy mind easy; I will see
that thy account is set right.” Gulfardo
then withdrew, leaving the flouted lady to hand over
her ill-gotten gains to her husband; and so the astute
lover had his pleasure of his greedy mistress for nothing.
(1) Cf. Sixth Day, Novel VII.
— The priest of Varlungo lies with Monna
Belcolore: he leaves with her his cloak by way
of pledge, and receives from her a mortar. He
returns the mortar, and demands of her the cloak that
he had left in pledge, which the good lady returns
him with a gibe. —
Ladies and men alike commended Gulfardo for the check
that he gave to the greed of the Milanese lady; but
before they had done, the queen turned to Pamfilo,
and with a smile bade him follow suit: wherefore
thus Pamfilo began:—Fair my ladies, it
occurs to me to tell you a short story, which reflects
no credit on those by whom we are continually wronged
without being able to retaliate, to wit, the priests,
who have instituted a crusade against our wives, and
deem that, when they have made conquest of one of
them, they have done a work every whit as worthy of
recompense by remission of sin and punishment as if
they had brought the Soldan in chains to Avignon:
in which respect ’tis not possible for the hapless
laity to be even with them: howbeit they are as
hot to make reprisals on the priests’ mothers,
sisters, mistresses, and daughters as the priests
to attack their wives. Wherefore I am minded to
give you, as I may do in few words, the history of
a rustic amour, the conclusion whereof was not a little
laughable, nor barren of moral, for you may also gather
therefrom, that ’tis not always well to believe
everything that a priest says.
