The Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio (best classic books of all time txt) π
Description
In the time of a devastating pandemic, seven women and three men withdraw to a country estate outside Florence to give themselves a diversion from the death around them. Once there, they decide to spend some time each day telling stories, each of the ten to tell one story each day. They do this for ten days, with a few other days of rest in between, resulting in the 100 stories of the Decameron.
The Decameron was written after the Black Plague spread through Italy in 1348. Most of the tales did not originate with Boccaccio; some of them were centuries old already in his time, but Boccaccio imbued them all with his distinctive style. The stories run the gamut from tragedy to comedy, from lewd to inspiring, and sometimes all of those at once. They also provide a detailed picture of daily life in fourteenth-century Italy.
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- Author: Giovanni Boccaccio
Read book online Β«The Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio (best classic books of all time txt) πΒ». Author - Giovanni Boccaccio
The rector could get of her no other answer for that time, but, nowise daunted or disheartened by the first rebuff, solicited her again and again with the most overweening importunity, both by letter and message, nay, even by word of mouth, whenas he saw her come into the church. Wherefor, herseeming that this was too great and too grievous an annoy, she cast about to rid herself of him after such a fashion as he deserved, since she could no otherwise, but would do nought ere she had taken counsel with her brothers. Accordingly, she acquainted them with the rectorβs behaviour towards her and that which she purposed to do, and having therein full license from them, went a few days after to the church, as was her wont. As soon as the rector saw her, he came up to her and with his usual assurance, accosted her familiarly. The lady received him with a cheerful countenance and withdrawing apart with him, after he had said many words to her in his wonted style, she heaved a great sigh and said, βSir, I have heard that there is no fortalice so strong but that, being every day assaulted, it cometh at last to be taken, and this I can very well see to have happened to myself; for that you have so closely beset me with soft words and with one complaisance and another, that you have made me break my resolve, and I am now disposed, since I please you thus, to consent to be yours.β βGramercy, madam,β answered the rector, overjoyed, βto tell you the truth, I have often wondered how you could hold out so long, considering that never did the like betide me with any woman; nay, I have said whiles, βWere women of silver, they would not be worth a farthing, for that not one of them would stand the hammer.β But let that pass for the present. When and where can we be together?β Whereto quoth the lady, βSweet my lord, as for the when, it may be what time soever most pleaseth us, for that I have no husband to whom it behoveth me render an account of my nights; but for the where I know not how to contrive.β βHow?β cried the priest. βWhy, in your house to be sure.β βSir,β answered the lady, βyou know I have two young brothers, who come and go about the house with their companions day and night, and my house is not overbig; wherefore it may not be there, except one chose to abide there mute-fashion, without saying a word or making the least sound, and be in the dark, after the manner of the blind. An you be content to do this, it might be, for they meddle not with my bedchamber; but their own is so close to mine that one cannot whisper the least word, without its being heard.β βMadam,β answered the rector, βthis shall not hinder us for a night or two, against I bethink me where we may foregather more at ease.β Quoth she, βSir, let that rest with you; but of one thing I pray you, that this abide secret, so no word be ever known thereof.β βMadam,β replied he, βhave no fear for that; but, an it may be, make shift that we shall foregather this evening.β βWith all my heart,β said the lady; and appointing him how and when he should come, she took leave of him and returned home.
Now she had a serving-wench, who was not overyoung, but had the foulest and worst-favoured visnomy was ever seen; for she had a nose flattened sore, a mouth all awry, thick lips and great ill-set teeth; moreover, she inclined to squint, nor was ever without sore eyes, and had a green and yellow complexion, which gave her the air of having passed the summer not at Fiesole, but at Sinigaglia.380 Besides all this, she was hipshot and a thought crooked on the right side. Her name was Ciuta, but, for that she had such a dogβs visnomy of her own, she was called of everyone Ciutazza;381 and for all she was misshapen of her person, she was not without a spice of roguishness. The lady called her and said to her, βHarkye, Ciutazza, an thou wilt do me a service this night. I will give
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