NOVEL IV.
A Monk having committed an offence, for which he ought to have been punished, saves himself by wittily proving his Abbot guilty of the very same fault.
Thus ended Filomena, when Dioneo, who sat next to her (without waiting the queen’s order, as knowing that he was to follow in course), spoke as follows:
If I understand you right, ladies, we are assembled here to amuse ourselves by telling stories: whilst nothing, then, is done contrary to this intention, I suppose every one has liberty to relate what he thinks will be most entertaining: therefore, having heard how, by the pious admonitions of Jeannot de Chivigni, Abraham the Jew was advised to his soul’s salvation; and also how Melchizedeck, by his good sense, saved his wealth from the designs of Saladin; I shall without fear of reproof, show, in a few words, how cunningly a monk saved his bones from the punishment intended him.
There was once, in the territories of Lunigiana, a monastery, better stored both with monks and religion than many are now-a-days; and among its inmates was a young monk, whose lusty vigour neither fasting nor praying could mortify. Now it chanced one day, about noon, whilst his brethren were all asleep, that taking a walk about their church, which stood in a lonesome place, he cast his eye upon a good looking wench, some labourer’s daughter apparently, who was gathering herbs in the fields. Assailed at the first glance by carnal concupiscence, he went up and accosted her, and talked to such purpose that she agreed to go to his cell with him, before anybody was stirring abroad to see them. But whilst they were diverting themselves together, with more eagerness than caution, it happened that the abbot woke up, and hearing, as he passed the cell, the noise made by the pair within, he laid his ear to the door to listen, and plainly distinguished a woman’s voice. At first he was inclined to command that the door should be opened; but on second thoughts he returned to his chamber to wait till the monk should come out.
The latter, meanwhile, though highly delighted with his companion, could not help being a little suspicious of a discovery; and fancying that he heard footsteps at the door, he peeped through a crevice, saw the abbot standing to listen, and knew that he was detected, and should be soundly punished. This caused him extreme uneasiness; yet, without showing anything of it to the girl, he set his wits to work to contrive how he might get clear of the affair, and at last hit on a stratagem which succeeded to his heart’s desire. Pretending that he could stay no longer – “I must go,” he said to the girl, “and will contrive a way to get you off without being seen; lie still, then, till I return.” –
He then locked the door after him, carried the key to the abbot, as is usual with the brethren when they go out of doors; and, putting a good face on the matter, – “My Lord,” he said, “I could not get all my wood home this morning, and if you please, I will go now and fetch the remainder.” The abbot, readily inferring that the young monk was unconscious of having been detected, was glad to have such an opportunity to make a more perfect discovery; accordingly he took the key, and gave the required leave.
No sooner was the other departed, than he began to consider what he had best do in this case; whether to open the door in presence of all the monks, that so, the offence being known to all, they could have no room to murmur when he proceeded to punishment: or, whether he should not rather inquire of the damsel herself, how she had been brought thither. Supposing, also, that she might be the wife or daughter of some one whom he would not have disgraced in that public manner, he thought it best to see first who she was, and then come to some resolution. So stepping very softly to the cell, he went in, and locked the door after him. The girl, on seeing him, was in great confusion, and fell a weeping; whilst our abbot, finding her to be young and handsome, was seized (old as he was) with the same desires as the young monk had been, and began to reason thus with himself: “Why should I not take a little pleasure when I may have it? for of plague and trouble I know enough every day. She is handsome, and nobody can ever know it. If I can persuade her, I see no reason why I should not.
Who will ever be the wiser? nobody; and a sin concealed is half forgiven. Such another chance may never fall in my way, and I hold it best to take what heaven sends whilst I can have it.” Upon this, his original purpose being quite changed, he drew nearer to the girl, and began to comfort her, desiring her not to weep. Making some farther advances, he acquainted her, at last, with his intention; and she, who was made neither of flint nor steel, readily allowed the abbot to have his will. So after hugging and kissing her, his lordship lay down first on the monk’s bed – by way of encouraging her no doubt, and in tender consideration for her youth, lest she should be overwhelmed by the weight of his dignity – and then he gently drew her down over him.
The monk, meanwhile, who under pretence of going to the wood, had concealed himself in the dormitory, on seeing the abbot go alone to his chamber, began to have great hopes of the success of his scheme; but felt certain of it when he saw his lordship lock the door behind him. Then coming out cautiously from his hiding place, he heard and saw through a chink in the door all that passed between them.
At last, the abbot, after he had stayed as long as he thought fit, came out, locked the door again, and returned to his chamber; and supposing the monk to be now come from the wood, he resolved to reprimand and imprison him, so that his lordship might have the girl all to himself. He sent, therefore, for the culprit, gave him a severe rebuke, and ordered him to prison. The monk answered, very readily, – “My lord abbot, I have not been so long of the Benedictine order, as to be yet acquainted with its rules in every particular: your lordship instructed me well in the observance of fasts and vigils; but never told me that monks ought to yield the pre-eminence to women, and humble themselves beneath them. However, as you have so lately set me an example, I promise, if you will forgive me, to follow it, and always to do in future as I have seen you do.” The abbot being quick of apprehension, found the monk knew more than he expected; and being ashamed to punish him for a crime of which himself was known to be guilty, he pardoned him on condition of his silence. They then had the girl conveyed privately out of the monastery, and the story goes that they afterwards found means many a time to have her in again.