[Voice: filomena]
[001] Lisabetta's brothers slay her lover: he appears to her in a dream, and
shews her where he is buried: she privily disinters the head, and sets it in a
pot of basil, whereon she daily weeps a great while. The pot being taken from
her by her brothers, she dies not long after.
[Voice: author]
[002] Elisa's story ended, the king bestowed a few words of praise upon it,
and then laid the burden of discourse upon Filomena, who, full of compassion for
the woes of Gerbino and his lady, heaved a piteous sigh, and thus began:
[Voice: filomena]
[003] My story, gracious ladies, will not be of folk of so high a rank as
those of whom Elisa has told us, but perchance 'twill not be less touching. 'Tis
brought to my mind by the recent mention of Messina, where the matter befell.
[Voice: filomena]
[004] Know then that there were at Messina three young men, that were
brothers and merchants, who were left very rich on the death of their father,
who was of San Gimignano; and they had a sister, Lisabetta by name, a girl fair
enough, and no less debonair, but whom, for some reason or another, they had not
as yet bestowed in marriage.
[005] The three brothers had also in their shop a young Pisan, Lorenzo by
name, who managed all their affairs, and who was so goodly of person and
gallant, that Lisabetta bestowed many a glance upon him, and began to regard him
with extraordinary favour; which Lorenzo marking from time to time, gave up all
his other amours, and in like manner began to affect her, and so, their loves
being equal, 'twas not long before they took heart of grace, and did that which
each most desired.
[006] Wherein continuing to their no small mutual solace and delight, they
neglected to order it with due secrecy, whereby one night as Lisabetta was going
to Lorenzo's room, she, all unwitting, was observed by the eldest of the
brothers, who, albeit much distressed by what he had learnt, yet, being a young
man of discretion, was swayed by considerations more seemly, and, allowing no
word to escape him, spent the night in turning the affair over in his mind in
divers ways.
[007] On the morrow he told his brothers that which, touching Lisabetta and
Lorenzo, he had observed in the night, which, that no shame might thence ensue
either to them or to their sister, they after long consultation determined to
pass over in silence, making as if they had seen or heard nought thereof, until
such time as they in a safe and convenient manner might banish this disgrace
from their sight before it could go further.
[008] Adhering to which purpose, they jested and laughed with Lorenzo as
they had been wont; and after a while pretending that they were all three going
forth of the city on pleasure, they took Lorenzo with them; and being come to a
remote and very lonely spot, seeing that 'twas apt for their design, they took
Lorenzo, who was completely off his guard, and slew him, and buried him on such
wise that none was ware of it.
[009] On their return to
Messina
they gave out that they had sent him away on business; which was readily
believed, because 'twas what they had been frequently used to do.
[010] But as Lorenzo did not return, and Lisabetta questioned the brothers
about him with great frequency and urgency, being sorely grieved by his long
absence, it so befell that one day, when she was very pressing in her enquiries,
one of the brothers said: "What means this? What hast thou to do with Lorenzo,
that thou shouldst ask about him so often? Ask us no more, or we will give thee
such answer as thou deservest."[011]
So the girl, sick at heart and sorrowful, fearing she knew not what, asked
no questions; but many a time at night she called piteously to him, and besought
him to come to her, and bewailed his long tarrying with many a tear, and ever
yearning for his return, languished in total dejection.
[Voice: filomena]
[012] But so it was that one night, when, after long weeping that her
Lorenzo came not back, she had at last fallen asleep, Lorenzo appeared to her in
a dream, wan and in utter disarray, his clothes torn to shreds and sodden; and
thus, as she thought, he spoke:
[013] "Lisabetta, thou dost nought but call me, and vex thyself for my long
tarrying, and bitterly upbraid me with thy tears; wherefore be it known to thee
that return to thee I may not, because the last day that thou didst see me thy
brothers slew me." After which, he described the place where they had buried
him, told her to call and expect him no more, and vanished.
[014] The girl then awoke, and doubting not that the vision was true, wept
bitterly. And when morning came, and she was risen, not daring to say aught to
her brothers, she resolved to go to the place indicated in the vision, and see
if what she had dreamed were even as it had appeared to her.
[015] So, having leave to go a little way out of the city for recreation in
company with a maid that had at one time lived with them and knew all that she
did, she hied her thither with all speed; and having removed the dry leaves that
were strewn about the place, she began to dig where the earth seemed least hard.
Nor had she dug long, before she found the body of her hapless lover, whereon as
yet there was no trace of corruption or decay; and thus she saw without any
manner of doubt that her vision was true.
[016] And so, saddest of women, knowing that she might not bewail him there,
she would gladly, if she could, have carried away the body and given it more
honourable sepulture elsewhere; but as she might not so do, she took a knife,
and, as best she could, severed the head from the trunk, and wrapped it in a
napkin and laid it in the lap of her maid; and having covered the rest of the
corpse with earth, she left the spot, having been seen by none, and went home.
[017] There she shut herself up in her room with the head, and kissed it a
thousand times in every part, and wept long and bitterly over it, till she had
bathed it in her tears. She then wrapped it in a piece of fine cloth, and set it
in a large and beautiful pot of the sort in which marjoram or basil is planted,
and covered it with earth, and therein planted some roots of the goodliest basil
of Salerno, and drenched them only with her tears, or water perfumed with roses
or orange-blossoms.
[018] And 'twas her wont ever to sit beside this pot, and, all her soul one
yearning, to pore upon it, as that which enshrined her Lorenzo,
[019] and when long time she had so done, she would bend over it, and weep a
great while, until the basil was quite bathed in her tears.
[Voice: filomena]
[020] Fostered with such constant, unremitting care, and nourished by the
richness given to the soil by the decaying head that lay therein, the basil
burgeoned out in exceeding great beauty and fragrance. And, the girl persevering
ever in this way of life, the neighbours from time to time took note of it, and
when her brothers marvelled to see her beauty ruined, and her eyes as it were
evanished from her head, they told them of it, saying: "We have observed that
such is her daily wont." Whereupon the brothers, marking her behaviour, chid her
therefore once or twice, and as she heeded them not, caused the pot to be taken
privily from her. Which, so soon as she missed it, she demanded with the utmost
instance and insistence, and, as they gave it not back to her, ceased not to
wail and weep, insomuch that she fell sick; nor in her sickness craved she aught
but the pot of basil.
[021] Whereat the young men, marvelling mightily, resolved to see what the
pot might contain; and having removed the earth they espied the cloth, and
therein the head, which was not yet so decayed, but that by the curled locks
they knew it for Lorenzo's head.
[022] Passing strange they found it, and fearing lest it should be bruited
abroad, they buried the head, and, with as little said as might be, took order
for their privy departure from Messina, and hied them thence to Naples.
[023] The girl ceased not to weep and crave her pot, and, so weeping, died.
Such was the end of her disastrous love; but not a few in course of time coming
to know the truth of the affair, there was one that made the song that is still
sung: to wit:
[024] A thief he was, I swear,A sorry Christian he,That took my basil of Salerno fair, etc.