Every other member of the party had now told a tale, and Dioneo
knew it was his turn. So, without waiting for a formal command, he
began as soon as silence had been imposed on those who were praising
Guido's retort. "Charming ladies, although I have the privilege of
speaking on any subject I like, today I do not intend to depart from
the subject on which you have all spoken so admirably. Following in
your footsteps I mean to show you how skilfully one of the friars of
Saint Antonio escaped with quick resource from the trap which two
young men had prepared for him. You will not mind if I take some time
in telling the tale, for if you will look at the sun you will see it
is still in mid-heaven. As you may have heard, Certaldo is a small town in the Val d'Elsa,
and although it is small, it was in the past inhabited by noblemen
and wealthy families. Now, one of the friars of Saint Antonio was for
a long time accustomed to go there once a year for the excellent
pasture he found, gathering alms which fools give such people. His
name was Friar Cipolla (Onion); and perhaps was welcomed as much for
his name as his devotion, for that country produces onions famous
throughout Tuscany. This Friar Cipolla was a little, red-haired, merry-faced fellow,
and the biggest rogue in the world. He was quite uneducated, and yet
was such a prompt and able speaker that anyone who did not know him
would have thought him not only a great scholar but another Cicero or
perhaps Quintilian. He was gossip or friend or acquaintance to nearly
everyone in the district. Now one day in the month of August he went there, as was his
custom, and on Sunday morning when all the good men and women of the
surrounding villages had gathered there for Mass at the canonical
hour, he turned to them and said: "Ladies and gentlemen, as you know you are every year accustomed
to send some of your wheat and oats to the poor of my lord Messer
Saint Antonio, some little and some more, according to their ability
and devotion, so that the blessed Saint Antonio will protect your
cows and asses and pigs and flocks. In addition you -- and especially
those of you who are written down as members of our confraternity --
are wont to pay the little debt which is paid once a year. Now I am
sent by Messer Abbot to collect these things to the best of my
ability. And so, with God's blessing, when you hear the bells ring
after Nones, you will gather outside the Church and I will preach to
you as usual and you shall kiss the cross. Moreover, since I know you
are all most devoted to my lord Messer Saint Antonio, as a special
favour I shall show you a beautiful and most holy relic, which I
myself have brought overseas from the Holy Land. This is nothing less
than one of the feathers of the Angel Gabriel, which he dropped in
the bedroom of the Virgin Mary when he came to make the Annunciation
to her in Nazareth." So saying, he ended his speech, and returned to the Mass. When
Friar Cipolla was saying this there happened to be along with many
others in the church two smart young fellows, named Giovanni del
Bragoniera and Biagio Pizzini. After they had laughed heartily
together over Friar Cipolla's relic, they determined to play a trick
on him over this feather, although they were close friends of his.
They knew that Friar Cipolla was going to dine in the town that day,
and when they thought he was at table they went into the street and
made their way to the inn where the Friar was staying. Their plan was
that Biagio should hold the Friar's servant in talk, while Giovanni
searched through his traps for the feather and took it away, to see
what he would say to the people when he found it out. Friar Cipolla had a servant, called by some Guccio Whale, by
others Guccio Dauber, and by others Guccio Pig. He was such an artful
fellow that Lippo Topo himself never did as much, while Friar Cipolla
often joked about him with his friends, saying: "My servant has nine qualities, and if one of them had existed in
Solomon or Aristotle or Seneca, it would have been sufficient to ruin
all their virtue, wisdom and holiness. Think what sort of a fellow he
must be then, when he has nine such qualities, and neither virtue,
wisdom nor holiness." And when he was asked what these nine qualities were, he would
reply as follows: "I'll tell you. He's lazy, lying and lousy; negligent, disobedient
and evil speaking; reckless, heedless and bad-mannered. In addition
he has several other little faults not worth mentioning. But the most
amusing thing about him is that wherever he goes he wants to have a
wife and set up house. Since he has a large, black, greasy beard, he
thinks himself so handsome and charming that all the women who see
him must fall in love with him. If he were allowed, he would be after
them and think of nothing else. True, he is a great help to me, for
however secretly anyone wants to speak to me, he must hear his share
of it; and if I am asked a question he's so much afraid that I shall
not know what to answer that he immediately replies 'Yes' or 'No,' as
he thinks fitting." Friar Cipolla had left this servant behind at the inn, and had
ordered him to take great care that nobody touched his possessions,
especially his knapsacks which contained the sacred matters. But
Guccio Dauber liked to be in a kitchen more than a nightingale among
green boughs, especially when he knew there was a servant girl there.
He had seen the host's servant, a fat, round, stumpy, ugly girl with
a pair of breasts like two baskets of dung, and a face like one of
the Baronci all sweaty, greasy and smoky. Leaving Friar Cipolla's
room and abandoning all his traps, Guccio slipped into the kitchen
like a vulture after carrion; and although it was August he sat down
by the fire and began to talk to the girl, whose name was Nuta. He told her he was a gentleman by procuration, that he had an
incredible number of florins, apart from those he had to give other
people which were considerable, and that he could do and say so many
things that it was abracadabra marvellous. Without considering his
hood which had enough grease on it to suffice the great cauldron of
Altopascio, or his torn and patched doublet all sweat-stained round
the collar and armpits, with more spots and colours in it than ever
were in a Tartar or Indian garment, or his burst-out shoes, or his
rent hose, he talked to her as if he had been the Lord of Castiglione
and said he meant to set her up with new clothes and take her out of
her wretched service to be with someone else, and that in addition to
having his great possessions she might hope for even better fortune.
These and a great many other things which he most amorously told her
came to nothing, like most of his undertakings of this sort. Meanwhile the two young men discovered that Guccio Pig was
occupied with Nuta, which delighted them, for half their errand was
thus already accomplished. With no one to stop them they walked into
Friar Cipolla's open room, and the first thing they took up to search
was the knapsack containing the feather. Opening the knapsack they
found a little casket wrapped up in a large piece of silk; and,
opening the casket, they found it contained a feather from a parrot's
tail, which they guessed at once was the feather he had promised to
show the people of Certaldo. Certainly in those times it was easy for
him to impose on their credulity, for the luxuries of Egypt had not
then entered Tuscany, except to a very small extent, as they have
since done so widely to the grave harm of all Italy. But even if
these feathers had been known to a few people, they were not known at
all to the inhabitants of Certaldo. Thus, while the rough virtues of
our ancestors endured, not only had they never seen a parrot, but had
never even heard one mentioned. The young men were delighted to find the feather, and took it out.
In order not to leave the casket empty, they picked up some charcoal
they saw in a corner of the room, and filled the casket with that.
They then shut it, and replaced everything as they had found it. They
then went off merrily with the feather, without anyone seeing them,
and waited to hear what Friar Cipolla would say when he found the
charcoal in place of the feather. The simple-minded men and women who were at church returned home
from Mass, after hearing that they were to see a feather of the Angel
Gabriel after Nones. One neighbour told another, one gossip another,
and when every-one had had dinner, so many men and women flocked to
the town to see the feather that the place could scarcely hold them.
After a good dinner and a little nap Friar Cipolla got up a little
after Nones. Hearing that a great multitude of peasants had come to
see the feather he ordered Guccio Dauber to come along at once to the
bells and to bring the knapsacks with him. Although it was hard to
tear Guccio away from the kitchen and Nuta, he went along with the
required things. Drinking water had inflated his body so much that
Friar Cipolla at once sent him inside the church door, where he began
to ring the bells loudly. When all the people were assembled, Friar Cipolla began his sermon
without noticing that his effects had been tampered with; he said a
great deal about his own deeds, and when he came to the point of
showing the Angel Gabriel's feather, he first made them recite the
general confession, then had two candles lighted, and having first
put back his cowl he unwrapped the silk and brought out the casket.
After saying a few words in praise of the Angel Gabriel and his
relic, he opened the casket. When he saw it full of charcoal, he did
not at all suspect that it had been done by Guccio Whale (whom he
knew to be incapable of such an effort of imagination) nor did he
even blame him for not having prevented others from doing it; but he
silently cursed himself for having allowed his property to be looked
after by Guccio whom he knew to be negligent, disobedient, reckless
and heedless. But yet he did not change colour, but lifted up his
hands and face to Heaven, and said in a voice heard by all: "O Lord, for ever let Thy power be praised!" He then closed the casket and, turning to the people, said: "Ladies and gentlemen, you must know that when I was still very
young I was sent by my superior to the lands of the rising sun, with
the express charge to find out the secrets of Porcelain, which
although they cost nothing to mark, are more profitable to others
than to us. "So I set out from Venice and went along Greek Street, and thence
by road through the kingdom of Garbo and through Baldacca, thence
reaching Parione, and afterwards at some expense of thirst, --
Sardinia. But why do I name all these countries I passed through?
Passing the inlet of St. George I came to Truffia and Buffia, lands
thickly inhabited with many people. From thence I came to the land of
Falsehood where I found a great many friars and other religious, who
all scorned poverty for the love of God, took little account of
others' troubles, followed their own interests and spent none but
uncoined money in those lands. I then came to the country of the
Abruzzi, where the men and women walk over the mountains in clogs and
dress up pigs in their own guts. A little further on I found people
who carry bread in sticks and wine in bags. And thence I came to the
mountains of the Bacchi where all the water runs backwards. "In short, I travelled so far that I came to Turnip India, and I
swear to you by my sacred gown that I saw pens fly, a thing
incredible to those who have not seen it. Witness will be borne to
this by the great merchant, Maso del Saggio, whom I found there
cracking nuts and selling the husks retail. "But since I could not find what I sought there, and since I
should have had to proceed by water thereafter, I turned back to the
Holy Land where in summer a cold loaf is worth four cents and a hot
one nothing. There I found the Reverend Father Nonmiblasmete
Sevoipiace, the most worthy patriarch of Jerusalem. He, from
reverence to the habit of my lord Messer Saint Antonio which I wore,
showed me all the relics he had about him. And there were so many of
them that if I told you everything I should never get to the end. But
not to disappoint you, I shall tell you of some of them. "First of all he showed me the finger of the Holy Ghost, as entire
and sound as it ever was, and the forelock of the Seraph which
appeared to Saint Francesco, and a nail of one of the Cherubim, and a
rib of the Verbum Caro made at the factory, and clothes of the Holy
Catholic Faith, and some of the rays of the Star which appeared to
the wise men in the East, and a phial of Saint Michael's sweat when
he fought with the Devil, and the jaw-bones of Saint Lazarus, and
many others. "Now, since I freely gave him some of the eminences of Monte
Morello in the vulgar tongue and certain chapters of the Caprezio
which he had long been seeking, he also shared his holy relics with
me, and gave a tooth of the Holy Cross, and a little bottle
containing some of the noise of the bells in Solomon's Temple, and
the feather of the Angel Gabriel which I spoke of to you, and one of
the clogs of Saint Gherardo da Villamagna which not long ago in
Florence I gave to Gherardo di Bonsi who holds it in extreme
reverence; and he also gave me some of the coals over which the most
blessed martyr Saint Lorenzo was roasted. Which things I most
devoutly brought back with me, and have them all. "My superior indeed would never allow me to exhibit them until
they proved to be genuine. But now that certain miracles have been
performed by them and letters received from the Patriarch, which both
make them certain, I am permitted to show them. But I always carry
them with me, for I am afraid to trust them to anyone else. "I carry the Angel Gabriel's feather in a small casket to prevent
it from being harmed, and the charcoal of roasted Saint Lorenzo in
another. These caskets are so much alike that I often mistake one for
the other, and that is what has happened to me today. For, while I
thought I had brought the casket containing the feather, I find I
have brought the casket with the charcoal. And I cannot consider this
an error but rather the will of God, Who Himself placed that casket
in my hand, thereby reminding me that the anniversary of Saint
Lorenzo occurs a couple of days hence. "Thus God, desirous that I should show you the charcoal, to
reawaken in your minds the devotion you ought to feel for Saint
Lorenzo, caused me to take up, not the feather I meant to show you,
but the blessed charcoal sprinkled with the sweat of that most holy
body. And, my blessed children, remove your hoods and come forward
devoutly to behold them. "But first of all I wish you to know that whosoever has the sign
made on him with this charcoal may live for a whole year secure from
fire, and may touch it without feeling it." After saying this he sang the lauds of Saint Lorenzo, opened the
casket, and displayed the charcoal. When the foolish multitude had
gazed at the charcoal for a time, they pressed round Friar Cipolla in
crowds, giving him larger offerings than usual and begging him to
touch them with the charcoal. So Friar Cipolla took the charcoal in
his hand and made huge crosses on their white shirts and doublets and
on the women's veils, vowing that, as he had often proved, the
charcoal miraculously recovered in the casket the weight it lost in
forming the crosses. Thus, having made crusaders of all the people of Certaldo, to his
own benefit, Friar Cipolla turned the tables on those who thought
they had put him in a quandry by stealing his feather. The two young
men were present at his preaching, and when they heard his new trick
and how far-fetched it was and what he said, they laughed until their
jaws ached. After the mob had departed, they went up to him and told
him what they had done with the utmost merriment, and then gave him
back his feather, which next year brought him in as much as the
charcoal had done that year. This tale pleased and amused the whole party, and there was much
laughter at Friar Cipolla, and especially at his pilgrimage and the
relics he saw and brought back with him.
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