The Works of John Hall-Stevenson :: :: University of Virginia Library

Bandello lived in the sixteenth century, in high reputation for his wit, and corresponded with all the great men of that age. He retired into France upon the taken of Milan by the Spaniards, at which time all his papers wer burnt. In 1551 he was made Bishop of Agen in France, where his Novels were first published.

Outcried against writings, composed with no worse intention than to promote good-humour and chearfulness, by fighting against the Tædium Vitæ, were reserved for an age of refined hypocrisy. There ought to be a great distinction between obscenity, evidently designed to inflame the passions, and a ludicruous liberty, which is frequently necessary to shew th etrue ridicule of hypocritical characters, which can give offence to none, but such as are afriad of every thing that has a tendency to unmasking.

The second part of this Tale is upon a different plan from Bandello's. Zachary has told the Bishop's Tale with more modestly than the Bishop, and I think the catastrophe is more natural. The best edition of Bandello is printed at Lucca in 1554; and reprinted in London, in three volumes, quarto, 1740.

How oft has Boccace been translated
And blunder'd,
And Jean Fontaine assassinated
And plunder'd!
Where is the land where Boccace and Fontaine
Have not in effigy been slain?
Fontaine they imitate and turn,
Boccace they represent and render,
Just as the figures, made to burn,
Are like the Pope and the Pretender.
Why mayn't Bandello have a rap?
Why mayn't I imitate Bandello?
There never was a Prelate's cap
Bestow'd upon a droller fellow.
Like Tristram, in mirth delighting;
Like Tristram, a pleasant Writer;

Like his, I hope that Tristram's writing
Will be rewarded with a mitre.
There was a Knight, says our Bishop,
A Knight from Aragon in Spain,
So jealous, that you cannot fish up
His like and paragon again:
He serv'd Alphonsus many years,
Both in the wars and in affairs of state,
And fell in love up to the ears,
And would not give it up at any rate.
By bribes and flattery he won
Father, mother, daughter, and son.
And yet he serenaded, sigh'd,
And was long doubtful of his doom,
Before he gain'd his lovely Bride,
With all the rights of a Bridegroom.
And after that, they also tell us,
That in less time than you would think,
He grew so timorous and jealous,
He could not sleep o'nights a wink.
He was not jealous, says the Tale,
All the time he was in training;

'Twas not till he began to fail,
And to fall off, by over-straining.
As soon as ever he train'd off,
The nights she pass'd can scarce be told;
All night he could do nought but cough,
Torment, and tantalize, and scold,
Bindocchia was lively and alert,
And had no notion of a bridle;
She requir'd one, not only more expert,
But one as active as her spouse was idle.
Now Angravalle knew all this,
As well as either you or I,
When he thought proper to dismiss
Those, on whose help she might rely.
He dismiss'd both the men and maids
All together;
Birds of a feather;
Rogues, and intriguing jades;
All but a fellow with a surly look,
Gard'ner, butler, groom, and cook:
And, to cut off all hopes to come,
From an intriguing maid at least,

He pick'd up one both deaf and dumb,
And neither fit for man nor beast—
Besides, he had such crotches in his pate,
And such strange notions,
She could not cross the room without her mate
To watch her motions.
Bindocchia was to be pity'd,
So watch'd, so scolded, so ill fitted.
Considering cuckoldom's a sentence,
That cannot be revers'd and null,
By commutation nor repentance,
Nor by his Holiness's Bull:
I cannot think he was to blame,
So much as many folks pretend,
To shut his doors, and to disclaim
All intercourse with every friend.
Those cuckolds, it can't be disputed,
That either heaven or earth can boast,
Have been, and always are, cornuted
By those in whom they trust the most.
However, all were not deny'd;
He had a friend he valu'd next his life;

A friend that he had often try'd;
One, by good luck, related to his wife.
He was admitted, night or day,
To dine or sup,
Or to step up,
If he was not inclin'd to stay.
Niceno had an equal share
In the affections of this pair.
After much thought and perturbation,
Bindocchia grew to have less care,
For the continual defalcation
In Angravalle's bills of fare.—
Though you may think her patience strange,
She thought, but not without some doubt,
The posture of affairs would change,
That things would turn, and come about.
Two months were gone, which was a shame,
Without receiving any news,
Though she had oft put in her claim,
And often stickled for her dues;
The longer he was in arrear,
Her case and his grew still more queer.

In short, there was no end of waiting;
Her husband grew so great a debtor,
There was no way of calculating
The chances of his growing better.—
Now, Ladies, I desire to know,
In such a situation,
Was it unnatural, or no,
To cast her eyes on her Relation?
Observe, I said, to cast her eyes;
With those 'twas natural to speak;
To mingle also a few sighs
With a few roses in each cheek:
Except a blush, a sigh, a soft regard,
All other forms of speech are barr'd.
Accordingly, within her lips
She had a tongue in due subjection;
Not apt to wander, and make slips,
Without her order and direction.
One day she went, upon leave granted,
To see her Cousin—pray, take notice, Sirs!
A female that she often haunted,
Niceno's Cousin too, as well as her's;

As usual, attended by the Mute,
And by the Gardener, her fellow-brute.—
Paulina was her Cousin's name,
A perfect Saint in her demeanour;
Though she was spotless in her fame,
Never was any thing uncleaner:
She could impose upon the Wise and Grave,
And could, with Titus, safely swear;
She never lost a day that she could save,
Nor sav'd a night that she could spare.
Bindocchia told her husband's case,
His former feats were not deny'd;
But then his subsequent disgrace
By rhetoric was amplify'd.
By what means, or by what discovery,
Her Friend reply'd, can you be sure,
That Angravalle's past recovery,
That he is even past your cure?
There's a disorder we call Fumbling,
Amongst the men call'd Fighting shy,
Teazing, tumbling, squeezing, mumbling,
Still worse and worse, the more they try.

Upon our skill in this disease
All our whole happiness depends;
All our importance, all our ease,
All our pow'r of obliging friends.
We must, when call'd to their assistance,
Chearfully undergo the Law:
'Tis death to them to shew resistance,
And worse than death to laugh, or pshaw.
With all their humours, all their fancies,
In every form, in every shape,
We must comply; nay, make advances,
To help them out of such a scrape.
'Tis by this single piece of skill
That I command and rule,
And make my headstrong mule
Submit entirely to my will.
Bindocchia, indeed, I fear,
That you, like many a haughty Beauty,
Think that your goods ought to come clear
Of every charge, and every duty:
And so they will, my dear, by smuggling;
But the foundation must be laid

By honest industry and struggling;
By credit in a lawful trade.
Have you, with both your mind and might,
Endeavour'd to set matters right?
Casting her eyes upon a crucifix,
That hung within her cousin's bed;
Bindocchia said, I have try'd all the tricks
That ever enter'd in a head.
I could as soon persuade those thieves
To steal away, and leave their crosses;
Or the fall'n tree with wither'd leaves
To rise and to repair its losses.
There never will be life within that lump,
Till the dead rise at the last trump.
Paulina, this is my decree,
My spouse must have a Coadjutor;
His Friend, all precedents agree,
Should be preferred to every suitor.
I need not tell you whom I mean,
Nor ask my Friend to go between:
He has had innuendos many:
But make Niceno understand,

That any scruples, if he has any,
Are just like letters wrote on sand;
Or like the fears of truant boys,
Which interrupt their brisk career,
And for a moment damp their joys,
But the next moment disappear;
Or like a boy in brief dispute,
Whether it is a sin to pull
A pocket full of tempting fruit,
And rob an orchard that's quite full:
Nature decides, and doubt no longer hampers;
He fills his pockets, and he scampers.
In fine,
Paulina relish'd her design;
Her friend, by the same guard escorted,
Return'd to her old station.
That night Paulina, 'tis reported,
Finish'd her negotiation:
Her arguments had so much weight,
Niceno gave up the debate.
Bindocchia, put upon her mettle,
Assembles and convenes

Her powers, and all her wits, to settle
And find out ways and means:
She had not been an hour acquainted
With her Friend's motion and success,
Till she was taken ill and fainted,
And carry'd off, and forc'd t'undress.
Her mouth was drawn aside and purs'd,
Her head turn'd like the flying chair
That children ride in at a fair;
Her stomach swell'd, and like to burst.
All night in bed she made a riot,
Her husband thought she was possess'd,
She never had a moment's quiet,
Nor he a single minute's rest.
Just at the time that the cock crew,
Out of the bed Bindocchia flew;
In the next chamber was a water-closet,
Where she began to grunt and moan,
As if she was making a deposit,
And was delivering a stone.
Her husband rose and follow'd near;
And, if she had been off her guard,

She could have heard with half an ear,
He puff'd, and fetch'd his breath so hard;
By smothering his cough he kept a wheezing,
Which for a list'ner is as bad as sneezing.
Hearing him wheeze, she blew a gale,
That seem'd to issue from behind,
And made her husband turn his sail,
And brush away before the wind.
So well did she perform her part,
Trumpeting with her mouth and hand;
He had no mistrust of any art,
Or any dealings contraband.
At every foul report and crack,
That she in agony let fly,
He mov'd, and slunk a little back,
Like a judicious able spy.
Scarce were they laid till he began to snore:
Bindocchia started out of bed once more,
And soon spoil'd Angravalle's snoring;
He thought it was a kettle-drum,
For never any mortal bum
Made such a rattling and roaring.

Again he was upon his feet,
Again she was all wind and griping;
Again he made a safe retreat,
The instant that he heard her wiping.
His jealous freaks were never so kept under,
But they would quickly shoot and flower,
To every one's astonishment and wonder,
Like mushrooms in a thunder-shower.
The moment he began to doze,
It was in vain to think of sleeping;
She started up, whipt on her cloaths,
Ran off, and he came after creeping.
Till broad day-light,
There was no sign at all of ending,
For she kept going all the night,
And he kept list'ning and attending.
The female cousins, with much laughter,
Concerted all the scenes hereafter.
Next day, the better to impose,
She kept her bed, fatigu'd with purging;
And yet Bindocchia often rose,
Her provocations were so urging.

The night was like the night before,
Hurrying, trumpeting, dispatching;
The same attendant at the door
For ever listening and catching,
Till he was weary'd out and spent,
And quite convinc'd no harm was meant.
At three o'clock that very morning
(An hour convenient for horning)
Niceno, punctual to his call,
In the next chamber was in waiting,
Convey'd thro' a window of the hall,
Without much doubting and debating.
There was no servant there to fear,
Except the Mute, and none slept sounder,
And she so deaf, she could not hear
Ev'n an eight-and-forty pounder.
The Gardener, by way of Groom,
The only one watchful and able,
Laid at a distance in a room
Over the stable.
And now Bindocchia went to reap
The fruits of all her labour;

Whilst Angravalle was asleep,
She entertain'd his neighbour,
He was so pleasant and engaging,
She stay'd with him three hours at least;
And, though he wak'd coughing and raging,
Her Husband could not spoil their feast.
They went on joyously, for nothing caring,
(So keen is hunger)
Regarding him no more than a cheese-paring,
Or a Cheesemonger.
She groan'd, she trumpeted, and crack'd,
And made a noise so diabolic,
You would have sworn she had been rack'd,
And torn to pieces with the cholic.
I may thank you for all I feel,
Cry'd she, to Angravalle, coughing;
If one was made of brass or steel,
You soon would wear one out to nothing.
Three months with cold have I been dying,
By your ingenious way of lying;
Such usage is not to be borne,
Tossing and kicking cloaths and sheets!

And never cover'd night nor morn!
I could lie better in the streets I
Thus things being come to a conclusion,
Niceno stole away, she shut up shop,
Jump'd into bed without the least confusion,
Scolded a while, and slept sound as a top.

END OF THE FIRST PART.

PART II.

At noon she rose, recover'd quite;
Her colour and her eyes confess'd,
They were so radiant and bright,
That natural physic is the best:
As Angravalle had foretold,
Natural physic carry'd off her cold.
What could not be foretold so well,
What he could only hope, at most,
That night she rais'd him, like a spell
Raising the devil or a ghost.
Her charms and efforts were so great,
His cure was completed;
Nay, 'twas so thoroughly complete,
That all the proofs were twice repeated.
But this, she knew, she could not long rely on,
Nor would it do by half;
Unless a lamb will satisfy a lion,
That can digest a calf.

That half is far more than the whole,
In former times, was Hesiod's thought;
She was persuaded from her soul,
That half is only more than nought;
And consequently less than half must stand,
Just like a cypher, plac'd on the left hand.
This very sudden revolution
Caus'd in her Husband a revulsion,
Which caus'd a sudden resolution
To yield, and follow its impulsion.
His country-house wanting repairing,
He thought to take a three-days airing.
Though he had vow'd a trust unshaken
For his Bindocchia's late merits;
For all the trouble she had taken,
To comfort him, and raise his spirits;
Yet when he bade his wife adieu,
His jealousy broke out anew,
He left the Gardener instructed;
He was to watch and lie perdu,
To see how matters were conducted,
And to report upon a view:

And after this the Knight departed,
Sadly foreboding and faint-hearted.
His Lady knew, that time, like riches,
Should be enjoy'd;
Which are but lumber in one's breeches,
When unemploy'd:
Her greatest happiness she ow'd
To time judiciously bestow'd.
Paulina was directed strait
The Coadjutor to secure;
He was that night to officiate
In Angravalle's vacant cure:
Three morns he serv'd the morning service,
Three afternoons, afternoon function,
Three nights, like any monk or dervise,
He labour'd with great zeal and unction.
After such business and hurry,
It ever was my confident belief,
That he was rather glad than sorry,
When Angravalle came to his relief;
Though the last night an accident fell out,
That might alarm a man less stout.

Returning through the garden late,
He spy'd, within the avery,
The Gardener lying in wait
To perpetrate some knavery.
Although betray'd,
He knew his Cousin's parts too well
To be afraid
Of aught the Gardener could tell;
Nor ventur'd, in affairs so nice,
To interpose his own advice.
As to all salutary measures,
He trusted to that native wit,
Abounding in inventive treasures,
And inexhaustible as Pitt.—
In State Affairs, if not in Letters,
Niceno may be an example,
When we give credit to our betters,
To make it generous and ample.
Bindocchia thus, upon the brink of ruin,
Smil'd at the mischief that was brewing.
She was peeping through her window-lattice
Just when she heard her Husband's rap;

Not as a rat is,
A rat that's peeping through a trap;
But as a cat is,
A cat with a considering cap.
Whilst he was knocking at the gate,
Bindocchia slily descended;
She knew the temper of her Mate,
Enough to guess what he intended;
Having, incog, upon occassions,
Assisted at his consultations.
The council-room was under-ground,
Where he repair'd when he alighted:
The bill against his Spouse was found—
And the poor soul to be indicted;
A trial was decreed,
Proceedings settled and agreed.
The Court broke up, all parties to their task
Till things should be reveal'd,
Bindocchia issu'd from an empty cask,
Where she had lain conceal'd.
Her Husband took a turn or two
To smooth the wrinkles on his brow—

Then smiling, like a mind at ease,
He march'd up to his Lady's chamber,
And found Bindocchia on her knees
Before a crucifix of amber:
A situation,
That he beheld with indignation.
But he kept down his swelling bile,
Inform'd by sober reason,
That his revenge, delay'd awhile,
Would not be less in season;
She neither mov'd her eye, nor her eye-brow,
Till she had sung the Litany quite through.
Then rising with a chearful air,
So modest, and so unaffected,
That Angravalle well might stare,
When he consider'd and reflected.
However, with some perturbation,
He stammer'd this Oration.
I must return—this afternoon,
On bus'ness, that I can't neglect;
To-morrow I will be here—soon;
Sooner, perhaps—than you expect.

I thought, if I did not appear,
Knowing how great your love and care is,
That you would certainly, my Dear,
Be full of fears and quandaries—
So I must instantly go back,
As soon as I have got a snack.
Whilst this same snack was getting ready,
Paulina call'd upon her scholar,
A circumstance that kept him steady—
And help'd him to digest his choler.
His meal dispatch'd, he set out in an amble,
Full of his great and wise intentions.
Bindocchia, in a short preamble,
Explain'd her doubts and apprehensions,
Laid open all her plans and schemes,
Her arguments and speculations,
Which were so far from being dreams,
Paulina thought them revelations;
Her schemes, like Harlequinery,
Were all dumb shew and scenery;
The whole so artfully invented,
So free from all affected airs;

It must succeed, if represented
By any tolerable players.
Paulina had a part assign'd,
In which her cousin knew she shin'd.
They were resolv'd to try the event,
And set about it with good-will,
Knowing, before the night was spent,
They might be forc'd to shew their skill—
Which made Paulina hasten home,
To be prepar'd against the time to come.
Paulina told the Gard'ner in the entry,
To mind her message, and take heed,
To leave his post where he was sentry,
And let his Lady know with speed,
That she had quite forgot to say,
The message he was to convey:—
That she had bus'ness in the town,
But she would send the fringe and lace,
Drawings and patterns for the gown,
By her own maid the Bolognoise.
Bindocchia might keep her slattern,
Keep her all night, if she requir'd,

Till she had drawn and done the pattern,
And the designs that she desir'd.
Though these were terms to him like Greek,
Yet he deliver'd his commission,
And did, as well as he could speak,
Deliver it with great precision.
And now as soon as it was night
He lock'd the gates of the great court,
And introduc'd the jealous Knight
By a back way, or sally-port.
Within the av'ry, in ambuscade,
His Lord and Master watch'd and pray'd.
Being inform'd how matters went,
That none had enter'd since his going,
Except a wench Paulina sent,
A wench to draw designs for sewing,
A Bolognoise with scarf and veil,
Twanging through the nose and snuffing,
As if she had been from head to tail
Loaded with a Naples stuffing.
The night was still, the moon was bright,
When he, in an ill-fated hour,

Discover'd plainly, by her light—
Niceno passing by his bow'r
On which, with might and resolution,
He put his wrath in execution.
Our jealous Knight, in the first place,
Summoned all his wife's relations,
As witnesses of her disgrace,
And of his sufferings and patience;
Dragging along, with many others,
His Lady's father, and her brothers.
How did her brothers storm, her father weep!
When, op'ning her room-door, upon the bed,
They all beheld the Lovers fast asleep,
Upon her bosom lay Niceno's head.
But when they saw the Lovers rise,
How great their wonder! what must they suppose!
They hardly could believe their eyes,
Seeing Paulina in Niceno's cloaths—
And here the injur'd wife began to hector,
Reading aloud the following lecture:—
His jealous fits were every hour,
Nay, every minute, growing stronger,
Till he had put it past my power

To bear his folly any longer.
Having observ'd the jealous fool
Following me when I was sick,
Every time I went to stool,
I own it touch'd me to the quick.
Paulina's goodness and devotion
Were shock'd at my determination,
Insisting it was a rash notion,
Although she own'd the provocation;
Advising me to club our wits,
To try to cure my husband's fits.
Whilst Angravalle was away,
Indeed, I blush whilst I am speaking,
I spy'd the Gard'ner, where he lay,
Watching like a thief, and sneaking.
So, having found the thing I sought,
A key that turn'd the garden-lock,
I was transported with the thought
Of punishing my stupid block.
Paulina, as she had often done,
Borrow'd her cousin's cloaths, and in the garden,
In order to complete our fun,
Appear'd before the Gardener, my warden.

My spouse, we did not doubt the least,
Would be inform'd, as we desir'd;
We knew that the suspicious beast
With rage and vengeance would be fir'd.
His second trip, we judged, was to deceive;
It happen'd just as we suppos'd:
And now I humbly do conceive,
He is sufficiently expos'd.—
This is the true and perfect history,
Of all this mystery:
And now I do insist, his temper such is,
To be deliver'd from his clutches.
Her husband, conscious of her merit,
Acknowledg'd his transgressions;
She spoke with so much force and spirit,
He promis'd before all the sessions,
If she would pardon what was past,
That this offence should be the last.
And, as a proof that his designs were good,
The Gard'ner should be discarded;
She should chuse servants, and go where she would Unguarded.

Bindocchia consented,
And never afterwards repented.
Paulina to her maid retir'd,
Which maid was not according to the letter,
But in this fashion was attir'd,
On purpose to conceal Niceno better.
So well he acted, I'll engage,
That this Niceno might have play'd,
On any theatre or stage,
The snuffling Bolognia maid.
Paulina dress'd herself before she went,
Her maid had brought her cloaths for that intent.
People that I suspect for scoffers
Pretend that, whilst Paulina was undressing,
Niceno made her handsome offers,
Which she could not refuse, he was so pressing.
They were together, 'tis confess'd,
Two hours before she could get dress'd.
However 'twas is undecided,
But as to him he was complete,

In every circumstance provided,
And fit to serve a pious cheat;
But, to be able to serve two,
Is more than I, perhaps, or you, can do.