Part 44

42.—Messer Cesare said:

“I have never known these men who are wooed by women; but very many who, on finding that they have tried in vain and spent time foolishly, resort to this noble revenge, and say they have had an abundance of that which they have only imagined, and think it a kind of courtiership to speak evil and invent tales to the end that slanderous stories of some noble lady may spring up among the rabble. But such as these, who make vile boast (whether true or false) of conquering a gentle lady, deserve punishment or torture most severe; and if they sometimes meet it, we cannot measure the praise due to those who perform the office. For if they are telling lies, what villainy can be greater than to steal from a worthy lady that which she values more than life? And for no other reason than that which ought to win endless praise for her? Again, if they are telling the truth, what punishment could suffice for a man who is so vile as to reward with such ingratitude a woman, who,—vanquished by false flatteries, by feigned tears, by continual wooing, by laments, by arts, tricks and perjuries,—has suffered herself to be led into too great love, and then without reserve has fondly given herself a prey to such a malign spirit?

“But to answer you further touching that unheard-of continence of Alexander and Scipio which you have cited, I say I am unwilling to deny that both performed an act worthy of much praise; yet to the end that you may not be able to say that in rehearsing ancient matters I tell you fables, I wish to cite a woman of low degree in our own times, who showed far more continence than these two great men.

43.—“I say, then, that I once knew a beautiful and gentle girl, whose name I do not tell you lest you give food for slander to many fools, who conceive a bad opinion of a woman as soon as they hear of her being in love. Well, this girl having been long loved by a noble and well-conditioned youth, began to love him with all her mind and heart; and of this not only I (to whom she voluntarily confided everything as if I had been, I will not say her brother, but her dearest sister), but all those who saw her in the presence of the beloved youth, were very certain of her passion. Loving thus as fervently as a very loving soul can love, she maintained such continence for two years that she never gave this youth any token of loving him, except such as she could not hide; neither would she ever speak to him or receive letters from him or gifts, although a day never passed but she was besought to do both. And I well know how she longed for it, because if she was sometimes able to possess anything secretly that had been the youth’s, she held it so dear that it seemed to be the source of her life and all her weal; and never in all that time would she grant him other pleasure than to see him and let herself be seen, and to dance with him as with the others when she took part in public festivals.

“And since they were well suited to each other in condition, the girl and the youth desired that their great love might end happily, and that they might be man and wife together. The same was desired by all the other men and women of their city, except her cruel father, who out of perverse and strange caprice wished to marry her to another and richer man; and to this the unhappy girl opposed naught but very bitter tears. And the ill-starred marriage having been concluded, with much pity from the people and to the despair of the poor lovers, even this blow of fortune did not avail to destroy the love so deeply rooted in their hearts; which still endured for the space of three years, although she very prudently concealed it and sought in every way to stifle those desires that now were hopeless. And all this time she kept her stern resolve of continence; and as she could not honourably possess him whom alone in the world she adored, she chose not to wish for him in any wise, and to follow her custom of accepting neither messages nor gifts nor even glances from him; and in this fixed resolve, the poor girl, overcome by sharpest anguish and grown very wasted from long passion, died at the end of three years, preferring to renounce the joys and pleasures so eagerly desired, and at last her very life, rather than her honour. Nor was she without ways and means of satisfying herself quite secretly and without risk of disgrace or any other harm; and yet she abstained from that which she herself so greatly desired and towards which she was so urged continually by the person whom alone in the world she desired to please: nor was she moved therein by fear or any other motive than mere love of true virtue.

“What will you say of another, who for six months spent nearly every night with a dearly cherished lover; yet, in a garden full of sweetest fruits, invited by her own most ardent longing and by the prayers and tears of one dearer to her than life itself, she refrained from tasting them; and although she was caught and held in the fast bonds of those beloved arms, she never yielded herself vanquished, but preserved the flower of her chastity immaculate.

44.—“Do you think, my lord Gaspar, that these acts of continence are equal to Alexander’s?—who (being most ardently enamoured, not of Darius’s women, but of that fame and greatness which incited him by thirst for glory to endure toils and dangers to make himself immortal) spurned not only other things, but his own life, in order to win renown above all other men. And do we marvel that with such thoughts at heart he abstained from something he did not much desire? For since he had never seen the women before, he could not possibly love them in a moment, but perhaps even loathed them because of his enemy Darius; and in that case every wanton act of his towards them would have been outrage and not love. Hence it is no great thing that Alexander, who conquered the world no less by magnanimity than by arms, abstained from doing outrage to women.

“Scipio’s continence also is much to be praised. Yet if you consider rightly, it is not to be compared with these two women’s; for he too likewise abstained from something not desired;—being in a hostile country, newly in command, at the beginning of a very important enterprise; having left great expectations of himself at home, and bound to render an account to very strict judges, who often punished very small mistakes as well as great, and among whom he knew he had enemies; conscious also that if he acted otherwise (the lady being very noble and married to a very noble lord), he might arouse so many enemies and in such fashion that they might long hinder and perhaps quite snatch away his success. Hence, for reasons thus many and important, he abstained from a light and harmful wish, displaying continence and generous uprightness; which, as it is written, gave him the entire good will of those nations, and was worth another army to him, wherewith by gentleness to conquer hearts that perhaps would have been unconquerable by force of arms.

. . . . . .

“Forgive me, my lord Gaspar, if I say the truth, for in short these are the miraculous continences that men write about themselves while accusing women of incontinence, in whom we every day see countless tokens of continence; for in truth, if you consider well, there is no fortress so impregnable and well defended that, if it were assailed with a thousandth part of the wiles and tricks that are employed to overcome the steadfast heart of woman, it would not surrender at the first assault.

“How many creatures of great lords,—enriched by them and placed in very high esteem, entrusted with their castles and fortresses, whereon depend their whole state, life and weal,—have basely and sordidly surrendered these to such as had no right thereto, without shame or fear of being called traitors? And would to God there were so great a dearth of such men in our days, that we might have no more trouble to find a man who had done his duty in this regard, than to name those who have failed in theirs. Do we not see many others who daily go about slaying men in the forest and scouring the sea solely to steal money?

“How many prelates sell the property of God’s church! How many lawyers forge wills! How many perjurers bear false witness only to get money! How many physicians poison the sick to the same end! Again, how many do the vilest things from fear of death! And yet a tender and delicate girl often resists all these sharp and hard encounters; for many have been found who preferred death rather than lose their chastity.”

47.—Then my lord Gaspar said:

“These, messer Cesare, I believe are not on earth to-day.”

Messer Cesare replied:

“I will not cite the ancients now; but I tell you this, that many would be and are to be found, who in such case do not fear to die. And now I remember that when Capua was sacked by the French (which was not so long ago that you cannot recall it very well), a beautiful young Capuan lady being led out of her house, where she had been captured by a company of Gascons, when she reached the river that flows through Capua, she pretended that she wished to tie her shoe, so that he who was leading her let her go a little, and she suddenly threw herself into the river.

“What will you say of a peasant girl, who not many months ago, at Gazuolo in the Mantuan territory, went with her sister to reap corn in the fields, and being overcome with thirst, entered a house for a drink of water; and the master of the house, who was a young man, seeing that she was very beautiful and alone, took her in his arms, and first with soft words, and then with threats, sought to persuade her to his wishes; and she resisting more and more stubbornly, he at last overcame her with many blows and with force. So, dishevelled and weeping, she went back to her sister in the field, nor would she for all her sister’s urgent questioning tell what outrage she had received in that house; but on the way home, feigning to grow calmer little by little and to speak quite without agitation, she gave her sister some directions. Then when she came to the Oglio, which is the river that flows by Gazuolo, she left her sister a little behind not knowing or imagining what she meant to do, and suddenly threw herself in. Wailing and weeping her sister ran after her as fast as possible along the bank of the river, which was bearing her down-stream very rapidly: and each time the poor creature rose to the surface, her sister threw her a cord which they had to bind the corn, and although the cord reached her hands several times (for she was still near the bank), the steadfast and determined girl always refused it and put it from her; and thus rejecting every aid that might save her life, she soon died: nor was she moved by nobility of birth, nor by fear of most cruel death or of infamy, but solely by grief for her lost virginity.

LUDOVICO GONZAGA BISHOP OF MANTUA 1458-1511 ]

From a photograph, specially made by Signor Lanzoni, of a part of the fresco, “The Return of Cardinal Francesco Gonzaga,” in the Sala degli Sposi of the Gonzaga Palace at Mantua, painted not later than 1474 by Andrea Mantegna (1431-1506). See Woltmann’s Geschichte der Malerei, ii, 268.

“Now from this you can understand how many other women, who are not known, perform acts most worthy of praise; for although this one gave such proof of her virtue only three days since, as one may say, there is no talk of her and even her name is unknown. But if the death of our lady Duchess’s uncle, the Bishop of Mantua, had not occurred at that time, the bank of the Oglio, at the place where she threw herself in, would have been graced by a very beautiful monument to the memory of that glorious soul, which deserved so much the brighter fame after death, because in life it dwelt in a less noble body.”

48.—Here messer Cesare made a little pause; then he continued:

“At Rome, in my day, there happened another like case; and it was that a beautiful and noble Roman girl, being long pursued by one who seemed to love her much, was never willing to favour him at all, even with a single look. So, by means of money he corrupted one of her women; who, desirous of satisfying him in order to get more money from him, persuaded her mistress to visit the church of San Sebastiano on a certain day of small solemnity; and having made everything known to the lover and shown him what he must do, she led the girl to one of those dark caves which nearly all who go to San Sebastiano are wont to visit; and in this the young man was already hidden secretly.

“Finding himself alone with her whom he loved so much, he began in all ways to beg her as gently as he could to have pity on him and change her former hardness to love. But after he saw all his prayers to be in vain, he had resort to threats, which failing too, he began to beat her cruelly; at last, although firmly resolved to attain his end, by force if necessary, and therein employing the help of the infamous woman who had led her thither, he was never able to bring her to consent. Nay, with both word and deed (although she had little strength), the poor girl defended herself to the last: so that partly from anger at seeing that he could not obtain what he desired, partly from fear lest her relatives might make him suffer for it when they learned the thing, this wretch, with the help of the servant (who feared the like), strangled the unhappy girl and left her there; and having fled, he took means not to be discovered. Blinded by her very crime, the servant could not flee, and being taken into custody on suspicion, confessed everything and so was punished as she deserved.

“The body of the steadfast and noble girl was taken from that cave with the greatest honour and brought to Rome for burial, with a laurel crown upon her head, and accompanied by a countless host of men and women; among whom there was no one who went home without tears in his eyes; and thus was this rare soul universally mourned as well as praised by all the people.

49.—“But to speak to you of those whom you yourselves know, do you not remember having heard that when my lady Felice della Rovere was journeying to Savona, and feared that some sails that were sighted were vessels of Pope Alexander in pursuit of her, she made ready with fixed resolve to cast herself into the sea, in case they should come up and there was no remedy by flight: and it is in no wise to be believed that she acted in this from lightness, for you know as well as any other with what intelligence and wisdom this lady’s singular beauty was accompanied.

“Nor can I refrain from saying a word of our lady Duchess, who having for fifteen years lived like a widow in company with her husband, not only was steadfast in never revealing this to anyone in the world, but when urged by her own people to lay aside her widowhood, she chose rather to endure exile, poverty and every other sort of hardship, than to accept that which seemed to all others great favour and blessing of fortune;” and as messer Cesare was going on to speak of this, my lady Duchess said:

“Speak of something else, and go no further with this subject, for you have many other things to say.”

Messer Cesare continued: