University of Virginia Library

A NOTABLE Historye of Nastagio and Trauersari, no lesse pitiefull then pleasaunt.

In Rauenna sometime renowmde
for place of worthie fame:
(Which bare in all Romagna,
the chiefest praise and name.)
Were many noble gentlemen,
and youthes of sundrye sortes:
to mainteine warlike feates of Armes,
or practise pleasaunte sportes.
Amongst the which, a youthfull squier,
whose name Nastagio highte:
By fathers deathe, and Uncles too,
was lefte, (by reason righte)
Aboundinge farre in wordlye welth,
and had of richesse store:
Besides, his name did florishe there
with Sacred wisdomes lore.
Who beinge fre from Hymeus lawes,
did chaunce to viewe a dame:
Of Trauersary howse, whose face,
to loue, his heart did frame.
And for this damsell, daughter was
to Paolo Trauersaro:
She was more noble moche of bloude
then was Nastagio.
But well he hopde with earnest suitt,
to drawe her to his loue:
And thought his good demeanor should,
this gentill Ladye moue,
To recompence his courtesie,
with graunt of her good will:
But his endeuors toke no place,
his sute succeded ill.
For though he labourd painefullie,
his Ladies minde to please,
yet booted not his diligence,
but did his griefe encrease.
His semelie shape of natures worke,
was darkned in her eye:
And all his noble qualities
her blindnesse could not spie.
So cruell, harde, and sauage eke
this loued dame did showe,
Her selfe, to him, in whom, for loue
muche griefe of minde did growe.
Perhaps her passing beautie, els,
nobilitie of bloude:
Did so extoll her hautie heart,
and made this dame so proude.
That neither he, nor ought he could
with wittie skill deuise:
Could please her mind or comlie come
vnto her dazeled eyes.
Which thinge was to Nastagio,
so great a corsies baine:
That ofte through griefe, he was resolude.
with deathe, his limmes to paine.
But after wisedome staide his hand,
this thought did pearce his heart:
That he should liue in rest, if that
from her he did depart.
And vtterly renounce his sute,
or els if he could hate
Her, as she hated him, and brought,
him, in that wofull state.
This purpose all in vaine he toke,
for that it did appeare:
The more his hope did faile, the more,
his loue eflnamde the fire.
Muche time in sute, he daylie spent,
but yet he could not spede:
To gaine her loue, was all he craude,
he askde no other mede.
But dayes and yeares were passde in vaine.
his sute could take no place:
To moue that ladies stonie heart
to graunt her louer grace.
And, for he had consumed some part
of lande, and liuely hood:
And still in water to the chinne,
like Tantalus he stode.
And might in court, his ladie viewe,
but could no grace attaine:
Still wasting labour, tyme, and goodes,
and soking sighes in vaine.
His frindes, and kinsemen counsellde him
to leaue the courtly traine?
And liue in countrey soyle, where he,
againe should fredome gaine.
And sone shake of the seruyle yocke,
that makes him thrall to loue:
So shall he finde, great ease of heart
and corsyes great remoue.
So shall he there, forgett the face
that caught him, in a snare:
And slake his loue, and great expence,
so shall he easelie spare.
Nastagio, ofte did make a Scoffe,
at this aduertisement?
And first, this counsell graue, might not
once alter his entent.
But after moued ofte, of them
could not there hest gainsaye:
But said, he wold in suche a cause,
there frindlie will obey.
Therefore this sober, sage aduice,
he then did put in vre:
And was resolude to leaue the court,
and her, that did allure.
His heart to loue, and be her thrall,
whose minde before was free:
And neuer earst, had cause to waile
the losse, of libertie.
To compasse this deuise, he causde
great preparation:
For to be made, of nedefull thinges,
as though he would haue gonne.
To Fraunce, or Spaine, or other place,
farre from Rauenna:
And mounting on his flinging stede,
from thence, he tokethe waye.
Accompanyed with many frindes,
and went vnto a place:
Chiassi namde: that distant was
From thence, thre myles, in space.
And thither causde for to be brought,
his riche Pauilions:
His beddes, and curteines, with great store,
of suche prouisions.
And tould his frindes, that went with him.
that he would there remaine:
And that vnto Rauenna, they
should home returne againe.
Nastagio now well settled there,
beganne to kepe a porte:
More sumptuous farre, then euer earste,
and in more noble sort.
And making many royall feastes,
his freindes he did enuite:
Now these to dine, now those somtime,
to suppe with him, at night.
And there he dailye spent the time
in chase of grieslye beastes:
Sometime in Hawking, and somtime,
at wittie playe of chestes.
Sometime he toke delight, to walke
(as louers do) alone:
To desert dales, to mountaines hie
and places eke vnknowne.
There to vnlode his carefull minde,
of thousand corsies past:
To tell the trees, and knaggie rockes.
howe loue his heart agast.
And loe, it chauncde, one Friday once,
at entraunce in of Maye:
Being then a pleasaunt time, when trees,
and flowers be freshe, and gaye.
It came vnto his thought, to muse,
and haue somewhat in minde:
His cruell mistris tirannie,
and how she was vnkinde.
And then he warnde his familie
to leaue him there alone:
That at his pleasure, he might sighe,
and make a solom mone.
And foote by foote, with easie pace,
he went, with musing heade:
Till to Pigneta woode, his feete,
His wandring steppes had ledde.
And being pasde the houre of nine,
as clocke agreed with sunne:
And in Pigneta he alone,
well halfe a myle, had gonne.
Not thinking of his meate, and drinke,
nor yet of other thinge:
At sodein, Loe, he seemde to heare,
a greuous lamenting.
And dolefull skrikes, and groning cries,
sent forth from carefull brest:
Of wofull damsell, vexde with griefe.
and voide of quiet rest.
This noise, did breake his pleasaunt thought,
and casting vp his head:
To see him, in that hugie woode,
he greatlye marueiled.
And lifting vp his eyes, behold,
(through thicket full of shrubbes,
A quechie plot, and place forlorne,
with growthe, of thornie stubbes.)
He sawe, approche with swiftie foote,
the place, where he did staye:
A dame, with scattred heares, vntrussde,
bereft of her araye.
A comlie ladie, to behold
as naked, as my nayle:
And all bescratchde, with shrubs and thornes,
most pitifully wayle.
And crying loude, with shrillye voyce,
as bushes prickde her side:
She wepte and sighde, and earnestlie,
for mercye, oft she cride.
The goding prickes, had rent her pappes,
The brembles, tare her skinne:
So that the gushing streames of bloud,
from tender breast, did spinne.
Besides all this, two mastifes great,
both fierce, and fell, he sawe:
That fiercely pinchde her, by the flanke
with gredie, rauening iawe.
She posts for lyfe, to scape the rage,
of gnawing bandogges force:
And they with spede, pursue there pray,
to snappe her trembling corse.
And ouer taking her in chase,
they fastened on her fleshe:
And bitte her sore, that blond gushde out,
her wounds they were so freshe.
And eke a knight, of colour swarthe,
he sawe behinde her backe:
Came priking after, flinging forthe,
vpon a corser blacke.
With gastlye, thretning countenaunce
with armynge sworde in hande:
His loke wold make one feare, his eyes,
were like a fiery brande.
And still with cruell, thundring wordes,
pronouncde with ranckling breath:
Incessauntlie, vnto this dame
he sharpelie thretneth deathe.
This sight, did at one instant, bring
bothe wonder great, and dreade:
Unto Nastagioes minde, and muche
amazde, his troubled heade.
And lastlie, moude his gentle harte,
to take compassion:
Upon this haplesse ladie, that
Did make suche dolefull mone.
And grande desire, he had to ridde
her, from those tormentes great:
And saue her life, from present deathe,
If he could worke that feate.
But (for he wanted armor there)
He ranne vnto a tree:
And toke a boughe, in steede of staffe,
his weapon for to bee.
And there begonne, with angrie loke,
to make with maine, and might.
A forwarde pace, against the dogges,
and eke against the knight.
But then the knight, that sawe all this,
cryde oute to him, a farre:
Nastagio, busie not thy selfe,
thou canst not make or marre.
But let these dogges, and me alone,
to do the punishment:
Upon this wicked dame the which,
the goddes haue iustly sent.
And saying so, the furious dogges,
Then snapping violentlye:
Toke perfecte holde vpon her flankes,
and fastned egerlye.
The knight, then comming in with all,
alighted from his horse:
And countnance sterne, did show, of her
he woulde not haue remorse.
To whom Nastagio, drawing nere,
I knowe not the, he saide:
Nor what thou art, that knowst me so:
and hast my name bewraide.
But this I am enforcde, to saye,
that tis greate villanie:
An armed knight, a naked femme,
to kill with crueltie.
And hauing set two mastifes fell,
to pinche her hippes I prest:
As if she were, a mountaine Beare,
or other sauage beast.
I tell the plaine for certaine trouthe:
I will defende her corse:
Against thy rage, and cancred spite,
If god will geue me force.
To whom the knight replying, said:
I was (Nastagio:)
Of that same citie, of the which,
thou wert not longe ago.
And then thou wast a litle boye,
when I, who had to name:
Messer Guido, that was that time,
enamoured of this dame.
A great deale more, then thou art bene,
now at this present time:
To her, of Trauersari stocke:
and by her cruell crime.
And ruthelesse, stonie, hardned heart,
full of ferocitie:
(Such was my fatall, lucklesse lot,
and suche my miserie.)
That with this sworde, here in my hand,
one day in desperate wise:
I killde my selfe, and of my heart
I made a sacrifice.
And for that acte, I am condemnde,
to lasting paines of hell:
There at the pleasure of the godes,
for euermore to dwell.
It was not longe time after, but
this dame (who greatlie ioyde,
Beyonde all measure, at my deathe)
with panges of death, was noyde.
And yelded vp, her vitall breathe,
Unto the powres diuine:
Whose wretched dayes, most shamefully,
In tormentes great, did fyne.
And not repenting of her sinne,
of cruell Tirannie:
And of the pleasure great, conceyude,
at my calamitye.
As she that was resolude, in that,
Not to haue done offence:
But merite rather had deserude,
(suche was her blinded sence)
Both was, and is condemnde, for aye,
likewise, to during paine:
Where merites, due to her desertes,
she might (by iustice) gaine.
And once descended downe to hell,
then was by godds decre:
This punishment, for heynous crime
assignde to her and me.
To her, to flie before my face,
thus naked as you see,
To me that loude her once, so well,
to chase her mortallie.
And folowe her, as deadlye foe,
not as a loued dame:
Whose beautie great, with burning loue,
my heartstringes did enflame.
As ofte too, as I ioyne to her,
and fasten on her corse:
I kill her with this sworde, that did
my life from limmes deuorce.
And through her backe, with sword I pearce,
that colde, and flintye heart:
That neuer leande to louing lore,
but still was ouerthwart,
And neuer suffered pietie,
to enter in the same:
But still to peruerse frowardnesse,
her breast did euer frame.
That heart, I say, with entrayles too,
out of her corpse I teare:
And geue it, to these dogges, to eate,
as thou shalt see me, here,
She stayes not longe time after, but
as if she had not dyed,
She (as the mightie power of godds,
the fates doe iustlye guide.)
Reuiues againe, and then of newe,
beginnes her dolefull flight,
These dogges, and I, pursuing her,
With maine, and mortall might.
And euery friday, so it happes,
That at this present houre:
I mete her here, and at this place,
I execute my power.
And vse that torment to her, then,
As thou thy selfe shalt see:
And other dayes, thinke not we rest,
Or lyue, at libertie.
But in some other place, we mete,
In which, she lewdly thought:
Against me, or where cruelly,
By any meanes she wrought.
And being of a louer now,
Become a deadly foo:
I must (as god by sentence iuste,
Haue causde the fates to goo.)
Thus in this sort, pursue her corps,
So many yeares, as she:
Was monethes, a cruell enemie,
And hatefull hagge, to me.
Let me therfore, the dome diuine,
By practise, put in vre:
And do not staye the thinge, to which
Thy strength will faile, be sure.
Nastagio harkning to these wordes,
Was mazde, with dredfull feare:
And euery heare about him, then,
For horror gan to stare.
And stand vpright, vpon his head,
And backe he quicklie stept:
Then loking, on the wofull dame,
That lamentablie wept.
He staide a while, to se the ende,
And what this knight wold doo:
And marke, and note the circumstance,
Ere he from thence, wold goo.
The knight, no soner made an end,
Of this his fyled tale:
But like a raginge, furious dogge,
With visage grimme, and pale.
(His arming sworde, in lethall hand)
Upon this dame, he ranne:
Much like a fominge, tusked boare,
Or sencelesse, sauage man.
Then downe she fell, vpon her knees,
The mastyfes helde her fast,
And to the knight, for mercie ofte,
She cryde, ere life was past.
But he with all his force, did strike
Her, through the breste, and heart:
So that the glauncing blowe, did glyde,
And passe, through thother parte:
The tender wenche, of percing stroke,
No soner felte the smart:
But groueling fell, vpon her face,
and wept, with panting heart.
The kinght then drewe, a caruing knife,
and opened therwith all,
Her reynes: and pluckde out garsed heart,
her bowelles, and her gall.
And cast them, to the mastyfes fell,
the which vnsatiablye:
Like famishde, hungrie, pined curres,
deuowrde them presently.
And by and by, without delaye,
Upon this finishde facte:
The damsell (as if neuer had
bene done, that cruell acte.)
Rose vpp againe, vpon her feete,
and fast began to runne.
With hedlong flight, towardes swelling seas,
Like pellet shott from gonne.
The dogges still after, tearing her,
And scratching tender skinne:
That goored bloude, from mangled sides,
to issue, doth not linne.
And eke the knight, remounted to,
vpon his winged stede:
And taking in his hand againe,
his armed sworde, with spede,
Began, as earst he did, to chase,
this hunted, trembling dame,
And sodenly, Nastagio,
lost sight, of dolefull game.
For in a moment, they were passde,
so farre, the sighte of eye:
That neither her, the hounds, or knight,
he after could espie.
And he now hauing sene this thing,
a great while doubtfull stoode,
Twixte pitifull, and dreadfull, soo
amazed he aboode.
But after hauing pawsde a while,
It came vnto his minde:
That through the sight of this mishappe,
he great reliefe might finde.
And that it should preuayle him muche,
To gaine that he did seke:
The rather to, because it happes,
on frydaye erie weke.
He therfore marking well, the place,
retournde vnto his men:
And after, when it pleasde him best,
He straitly chargde them, then.
Unto Rauenna to repayre,
and praye his kinsmen come:
And frinds, to him, and of his talke
to them, this was the somme.
You. oft times, haue requested me,
that I would cease, to loue:
Her, who (as all you knowe full well,
my mortall foo did proue:
And oft, you haue aduisde me well,
to make a finall ende:
Of wasting patrimonie, and
My thrift, in vaine to spend.
Loo. I am prest, to do the thinge,
That you of me require:
So that in one thinge, you will seke
To further my desyre.
And take some paynes, to compasse tha[OMITTED]
That muche may pleasure me:
Which if you do atchieue, you shall
Shewe me, great courtesye,
And that is this, on friday next,
To cause, to come to me:
Messer Paolo Trauersaro,
And all his famylye.
His wife, his daughter too, and all,
The ladies, of there race:
To dyne with me, if at there handes,
I may attaine such grace.
And whom besides, that you thinke good,
That daye with me to dyne:
And bring (I pray) this companye,
About the houre of nyne.
And then, the cause of this request,
you shall more plainely knowe:
Where it shalbe, vnto your eyes,
reueylde, with open showe.
To them, this semde a small request,
and easye to be donne:
For that they thought, to suche a feast,
they might be easilye wonne.
Then to Rauenna, they retournde,
and when the time was come,
Those whom Nastagio wishde, they did
inuite, both all, and some.
And though at first twas somwhat hard,
Nastagioes dame to bring:
For whom, he had bene often pearcde,
with Cupides launcing stinge,
Through great entreatie, yet at last,
she was content to goo:
With other of her kinsfolke, that
that daye went thither too.
Nastagio made a sumptuous feast,
and spared not for cost:
Of meate, he had great plentie, both
of boyled, bakde, and rost.
Of other Iuncketts, he had store,
for suche a dynner, mete:
And when the bidden guests were come,
He frindly did them grete,
And welcomde them, in order all,
eche one, in his degre:
And to his cruell mistris, shewde,
a face, of frindly glee.
Then causde he tables to be set,
about a tre of Pyne,
In Pigneta woode, for there,
he purposde then, to dyne.
And placde the tables, nere the place,
where he before had sene
The tormentes done, to cruell dame,
vpon a bushie grene.
Within the woode, and there he causde,
the men, and women too:
To sitte at table closelye, and
the matter ordred soo:
That then the ladie, whom he loude,
he marshallde, there to sitt:
Right ore against the place, where ought,
to happ, that dolefull fitt.
Of that afrighted ladie, whom
the dogges, and knight pursue,
with endlesse race, and after death,
her course againe renue.
And now when all these guests, at borde
were placde, in order due:
And many daintie cates, were serude,
Unto this noble crewe.
Behold when latest seruice came.
and was to table brought:
That desperate noyse, of martyrde dame,
was heard of all this route.
Wherof, eche greatly marueiling,
and asking what it ment:
Were all amazde, to heare the noyse,
that through there eares, was sent,
And, for that no man knew the cause,
They all then stoode vpright:
And lokde about them, here and there,
as farre forth, as they might.
To se, what that mighe signifie,
and loo, they sawe full well,
The lamentable ladie, chasde,
with knight, and bandogges fell.
And presently, as thus they musde,
the dame, the dogges, and knight:
Were all arryude, amongst these guests,
In place before there sight.
Who seing suche great tyrranny,
so fiercely ministred:
By ruthelesse knight, and bloudy dogges,
with ladyes entrayles, fedd.
Began to blame, the cruell knight,
for traitrous villanie:
And all at ones, against him made,
a lowde, resounding crie,
And rated ragingly, the dogges,
Wherby the rumor spredd
Somwhat before: was doubled then,
and range in eche mans heade.
And diuers of the companie,
set forthe, with forward pace,
against this Knight, to aide the dame,
whom dogges, and he, did chase.
The Knight, then speakinge so to them,
as earst before he spake,
vnto Nastagio: made them all,
not onlie to tourne backe:
But fearde them muche, with quakinge dreade
and horrour pitifull:
And fyllde eche part, of liuely sense,
with merueyle wonderfull.
And doinge that, which other tymes,
he ofte before had done:
So many Ladies, as were there,
(as there was manie one,
which had bene kinsfolke, nere of bloud,
bothe of this dolefull dame:
And of the frettinge, angrie knight,
whom Guidò men did name.
And that as yet, had not lett slippe,
out of ther memorie:
his ardent loue, nor yet the deathe,
he for hir sake, did die)
did all bedewe there chekes with teare
and all so sorie were:
as they had sene, this torment done,
vpon them selues I fere.
With watrie eyes they viewde the rage,
and beastlyke tirrannye:
Of that extreme, and frentyke knight,
that vsde suche crueltie.
To slice her heart, with pearcinge blade,
and cast it forthe to dogges:
to be deuowrde: more villanie,
might not be done to hogges,
which matter throughlye finished,
and ceremonies donne:
with circunstances ended, and
the Ladie beinge gonne,
And ginninge freshlie wonted race,
the dogges, and thretninge knighte,
pursuinge still her restelesse corpse,
that tooke an endlesse flighte.
This straunge, and dolefull spectacle,
the minds of those did mate.
That markde, and viewde with fixed eye,
this Ladies wofull state.
And put them all, in diuers thoughtes,
and cogitacions:
which wroughte in eche one seuerallie,
greate operations.
But throughe this fearfull companie,
amongst the rest: of all
whom chillinge horrour mazed most,
and chiefely rubde on gall,
Was this younge, cruell lady, whom
Nastagio loude with heart:
For whom, he oft exiled ioye,
and suffered scorching smart.
The which, distinctly hauing sene,
and heard eche thinge, with eare:
And knowing, that this touchde her more,
Then any person there.
Amongst the rest: remembring too,
she was a cruell foo:
And alwayes vsde great tirannie,
vnto Nastagio.
Wherby, euen then she semde to flie,
before him, moude with rage:
And haue the mastyfes, at her flankes.
Her malice then dyd swage.
And then the feare she toke of that,
encreasde, and was so great:
That to the ende, vnto those dogges,
Her heart, should not be meate.
And that the cruell torment, might
not so be done, to her:
As earst, vnto the other dame,
in place, she sawe it there.
She spide no soner time, and space,
to do her purpose fitte:
(And that did happ the selfsame euen)
she so appoynted it.
That presently, vpon this thought,
she did not longer staye:
But (tourning hatred into loue)
she sent without delaye.
One of her faithfull chamber maids,
Unto Nastagio:
On earnest message, secretlie,
Where he abode, to goo.
Which prayde him, in her mistris name,
if so his pleasure were:
To come to her: and tould him, that
such tidinges he should heare.
As well might please his fantaisie,
for that she was content,
To do his pleasure, and to be,
at his commaundement.
To whom Nastagio aunswered,
that that to him, should be:
Most gratefull: and of all thinges els,
his chiefe felicitie.
He made no tariaunce then. but went,
together with the maide:
And comming thither, where, to talke
with him, his ladie staide.
He saide. if it might please your mind,
with honour of your race:
That I may take you to my wife,
so shall I then embrace
My pleasure: and obteine my will,
and gaine my sole request:
And vnto you, I will be iust,
while life remaine in brest.
The ladie, which did knowe full well.
that none but onlye she:
Was cause of staye, and obstacle,
of due solempnitie.
Of mariage rightes, for to be done,
Betwixt Nastagio:
And her: made aunswere, that it pleasde,
her well it should be soo.
Wherfore then being she her selfe,
the onelie messenger:
And Spokeswoman, both to her syre,
and eke to her mother.
Saide vnto them, she was content,
to be Nastagioes wife:
Wherof they both were pleasde, that she,
should leade a wedded lyfe.
And be conioynde, in Iunoes lawes,
With her Nastagio:
And on the sonday folowing,
To chirche they bothe did goo,
Together: with a noble traine,
In honor of there stocke:
About that time of day, when sonne,
foreshewe, eleuen of clocke.
There were the solemne mariage word
pronounced openlie.
And nuptials celebrated there,
Before that companie.
And after that longe time they liude,
together ioyouslye:
Till natures course had made an ende,
of that felicitie.
And that great feare was not the cause,
alone of this good deede:
But all Rauennian dames, thencefor
became so full of dreade.
That alwayes after that, they were,
More conformable then:
And tractable then euer earst,
to do the will of men.