Aretino's Dialogues 9781442670969

Table of contents :
CONTENTS
PREFACE
INTRODUCTION: 'A whore's vices are really virtues': The Erotics of Satire in Pietro Aretino's Ragionamenti
PART ONE
PIETRO ARETINO TO HIS DARLING MONKEY
1. This begins the first day of conversation in which Nanna, beneath a fig tree in Rome, tells Antonia the life of the nuns, composed by the Divine Aretinofor his amusement and to set forth correctly the three conditions of women
2. The second day of Aretino's capricious conversations, in which Nanna tells Antonia about the life of the wives
3. The last day of Aretino's capricious conversations, in which Nanna tells Antonia about the life of the whores
PART TWO
TO THE GENTLE AND HONORED MESSER BERNARDO VALDURA, ROYAL EXAMPLE OF COURTESY, PlETRO ARETINO
1. The first day of Messer Pietro Aretino's conversation, in which Nanna teaches her daughter Pippa the art of being a whore
2. The second day of the dialogue of Messer Pietro Aretino, in which Nanna tells Pippa all the vicious betrayals that men wreak on women
3. The third and last day of Messer Pietro Aretino's dialogue, in which the midwife explains to the wetnurse, with Nanna and Pippa listening, how to be a procuress
AFTERWORD
SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY
CHRONOLOGY

Citation preview

ARETINO'S DIALOGUES

Translated by Raymond Rosenthal Preface by Alberto Moravia Introduction by Margaret Rosenthal Pietro Aretino (1492-1556) was one of the most important figures in Italian Renaissance literature, and certainly the most controversial. Condemned by some as a pornographer, his infamy was due largely to the sexual explicitness and vulgar language that characterized much of his work. The Dialogues begins with a conversation between two frank, experienced, and sharp-tongued women on the topic of women's occupational choices in Renaissance Italy: namely those of wife, whore, and nun. Their discussion expands into a rollicking account of the advantages, perils, and pleasures each profession offers. Not only was this the first erotic book in the Christian world to be written in everyday language, it was one of the few to describe the earthier aspects of love and sex, and is thus a cornerstone of both Italian literature and Counter-Renaissance vigor. This edition contains Raymond Rosenthal1 s acclaimed 1971 English translation and original preface as well as a new introduction by Margaret Rosenthai. Also included is Alberto Moravia's review of the 1971 edition that appeared in the New York Times Book Review. (The Lorenzo Da Ponte Italian Library) The late Raymond Rosenthal (1915-1995) was a world-renowned translator of Italian literature. Margaret Rosenthal is an associate professor in the Department of French and Italian at the University of Southern California.

THE LORENZO DA PONTE ITALIAN LIBRARY General Editors Luigi Ballerini and Massimo Ciavolella, University of California at Los Angeles Honorary Chairs ^Professor Vittore Branca Honorable Dino De Poli Ambassador Gianfranco Facco Bonetti Honorable Anthony J. Scirica Advisory Board Remo Bodei, Universita di Pisa Lina Bolzoni, Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa Francesco Bruni, Universita di Venezia Giorgio Ficara, Universita di Torino Michael Heim, University of California at Los Angeles Amilcare A. lannucci, University of Toronto Rachel Jacoff, Wellesley College Giuseppe Mazzotta, Yale University Gilberto Pizzamiglio, Universita di Venezia Margaret Rosenthal, University of Southern California John Scott, University of Western Australia Elissa Weaver, University of Chicago

Pietro Aretino DIALOGUES

Translated by Raymond Rosenthal Preface by Alberto Moravia Introduction by Margaret E Rosenthal

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO PRESS Toronto Buffalo London

www.utppublishing.com University of Toronto Press 2005 Toronto Buffalo London Printed in Canada ISBN 0-8020-9004-4 (cloth) ISBN 0-8020-4890-0 (paper) This translation of Aretino's Dialogues was published by Marsilio Publishers in 1994.

Printed on acid-free paper Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication Aretino, Pietro, 1492-1556. Dialogues / Pietro Aretino ; translated by Raymond Rosenthal; preface by Alberto Moravia ; introduction by Margaret F. Rosenthal. (Lorenzo Da Ponte Italian Library) Translation of: I ragionamenti. Includes bibliographical references. ISBN 0-8020-9004-4 (bound). ISBN 0-8020-4890-0 (pbk.) 1. Women - Sexual behavior - Early works to 1800. I. Rosenthal, Raymond II. Title. III. Series. PQ4563.D53132006

855'.3

C2005-902192-6

This volume is published under the aegis and with the financial assistance of: Fondazione Cassamarca, Treviso; Ministero degli Affari Esteri, Direzione Generale per la Promozione e la Cooperazione Culturale; Ministero per i Beni e le Attivita Culturali, Direzione Generale per i Beni Librari e gli Istituti Culturali, Servizio per la promozione del libro e della lettura. Publication of this volume is assisted by the Istituto Italiano di Cultura, Toronto. University of Toronto Press acknowledges the financial assistance to its publishing program of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council. University of Toronto Press acknowledges the financial support for its publishing activities of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP).

CONTENTS

PREFACE by Alberto Moravia vii INTRODUCTION: 'A whore's vices are really virtues': The Erotics of Satire in Pietro Aretino's Ragionamenti by Margaret Rosenthal xi PART ONE PIETRO ARETINO TO HIS DARLING MONKEY 3 1. This begins the first day of conversation in which Nanna, beneath a fig tree in Rome, tells Antonia the life of the nuns, composed by the Divine Aretinofor his amusement and to set forth correctly the three conditions of women. 2. The second day of Aretino's capricious conversations, in which Nanna tells Antonia about the life of the wives. 3. The last day of Aretino's capricious conversations, in which Nanna tells Antonia about the life of the whores. PART Two To THE GENTLE AND HONORED MESSER BERNARDO VALDURA, ROYAL EXAMPLE OF COURTESY, PlETRO ARETINO

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1. The first day of Messer Pietro Aretino's conversation, in which Nanna teaches her daughter Pippa the art of being a whore. 2. The second day of the dialogue of Messer Pietro Aretino, in which Nanna tells Pippa all the vicious betrayals that men wreak on women. 3. The third and last day of Messer Pietro Aretino's dialogue, in which the midwife explains to the wetnurse, with Nanna and Pippa listening, how to be a procuress. AFTERWORD by Raymond Rosenthal 377 SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY CHRONOLOGY

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PREFACE Alberto Moravia

In Raymond Rosenthal's preface to his excellent translation of Aretino's Dialogues he observes that Aretino is a complicated writer.* I largely agree but should like to make an emendation. In my view, Aretino is a simple writer who lived in a complicated period. Or, if you prefer, Aretino is indeed a complicated writer but unconsciously so, the way a lake is unaware of the "complicated" mountains reflected in its waters. Thus there are two ways of reading Aretino: in terms of things he wanted to say and in terms of things he did not want to say but nonetheless said. To read Aretino in the first way is not difficult. When everything has been said about his acrimony, his licentiousness and his cynicism, we must finally agree that above all else Aretino is a literary man. Not, be it noted, a poet, not a creator, but a man of letters who shared an ancient and illustrious tradition. What's more, he was a highly refined literary man, enamored of his craft and indifferent to everything that is not literature. Thus Aretino's great originality—his literary originality, that is—seems to have been his preference for low, popular speech rather than the lofty and noble diction that was usual in writing of the period. "'Alberto Moravia's review of Aretino's Dialogues, trans. Raymond Rosenthal (New York: Stein and Day, 1971) originally appeared in The New York Times Book Review, April 30, 1972. Raymond Rosenthal's preface to that volume was subsequently enlarged for the edition of the Dialogues published by Marsilio (New York: Marsilio, 1994). The latter version of Rosenthal's preface is republished as an epilogue to this volume.

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Today we would call Aretino an esthete of proletarian language forms, a sensual fancier of plebeian speech. But in the 16th century, estheticism was still a thing of the future. There was, quite simply, literature, with its conventions of detachment and decorum. In adopting the vulgar language of the people, Aretino was the first to perform a literary feat that became quite commonplace in the following century. That is, he chose an "ignoble" reality that was to be described in ignoble language, all with a view to creating a "miracle" of virtuosity, a miracle endowed with unquestionable animal vitality. And so, for primarily literary motives Aretino seems to be a satirist, a realist, and even at times a moralist—and all without his wishing to be or realizing that he was. Yet the indolence of the literary man is to be seen precisely in the much extolled—and, for the matter, authentic—healthiness that is evident in Aretino's prose. Yes, healthiness, for it can happen that a man is healthy only because he doesn't know he is sick. Essentially, this is the case with Aretino, who was truly aware only of his literary gifts, which he demonstrated splendidly indeed in the Dialogues. By way of proof, take for example the most cynical of the dialogues—the one in which "Nanna teaches her daughter Pippa to be a whore." At first glance, the subject and the way in which it is treated might make one think of an acrid paradox on the order of De Sade's Malheurs de la Vertue. But more attentive examination obliges us to reformulate Aretino. Actually, his paradox is merely literary; he shows us a mother who gives lessons in prostitution to her daughter, and he does so with the same virtuoso nonchalance that, some decades later, 17th-centur\ writers exhibited in their use of Petrarchan meters to sing of their love for the beautiful hunchback or the beautiful cross-eyed woman. In a word, we confront here a kind of book of etiquette on prostitution, written with detachment, but with scrupulous craftsmanship, by someone who wished to win a bet—first of all with himself but also with others—that he could carry it off. Now if we read Aretino in terms of the things "he did not want" to say but unconsciously did say, we must grant Rosenthal his point. Aretino is indeed a very complicated writer. Without his knowing it, he is the perfect son of his century; therefore, we must read between the lines with the eye of the historian, the sociologist, and the moralist. In a word, Aretino is naked but believes he is clothed. He is a sleepwalker who strolls over the rooftops, eyes [ viii ]

closed, never falling, believing he is awake. Notice, for example, the absolutely correct solution he gives to the problem of how to deal with sex. Following the great Greek and Roman tradition, he makes sex an object of laughter. Here, in the absence of any creative consciousness of his own, it is literature that sets him on the right road. Sex is a venerable, supreme mystery. The sole way to respect this mystery is to laugh at it. In fact, only the pornographers take sex seriously and analyze and dramatize it. Instead of holding it at arm's length by dint of laughing at it, as Aretino does, they approach it with sentiment, which precisely because it has to do with sex cannot be lewd. But of all this Aretino knew nothing. He wanted only to win the bet that he could produce good literature using sex as the theme. Without intending to do so, he supplied us with a description—and perhaps with something more than a description—of what today we might term the permissiveness of the Italian Renaissance. The same must be said about his satirizing social customs. As painted by Aretino, the portrait of Italian society of the period is, without question, catastrophic. Was Aretino then, as some people contend, a scourger of Renaissance corruption, a moralistic judge of Italian decadence? Very likely he was neither. Robustly, sensationally impenitent, Aretino shared too much in that corruption and decadence to treat it as a satirist and moralist. One even suspects that the most important indication that the society and the Italy Aretino described were indeed corrupt and decadent is the painful but not pained self-assurance with which the writer tackled his tenebrous themes. If it were not arbitrary to apply today's formulas to the past, one could even speak of Aretino's alienation, of his neurosis. Aretino is an extraordinary storyteller, excelled in the 16th century only by Cellini. His realism is picaresque; the immensely lively anecdotes woven into the Dialogues all illustrate a vision of life that is motivated by necessity, as in the Spanish novels with rogues for heroes. Food, clothing, money, possessions—survival, in a word— are the important things. Here is where, in my opinion, one must look for Aretino's truth. There were two renaissances, one sumptuous and aristocratic, the other sordid and plebeian. Aretino left us unchallengeable testimony about the second. He was an involuntary witness, one who was incapable of passing judgment—for he himself was often compromised or actively conspiring—but he possessed an exceptionally quick, clear, sharp, and precise eye.

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INTRODUCTION "A whore's vices are really virtues": The Erotics of Satire in Pietro Aretino's Ragionamenti Margaret Rosenthal

Pietro Aretino gained notoriety throughout Europe in the early modern period as the author of erotic satiric dialogues and political squibs on the corruption of the Roman court and clergy.1 Although his literary works were not translated from Italian into other languages during his lifetime, they became known outside of Italy through word of mouth and reputation. As a result of the print revolution, Aretino's face was familiar to cultural elites through the reproduction of the many portraits artists created of him in paintings, sculpture, medals, woodcuts, and engravings.2 By turns feared, admired, envied, and ridiculed, Aretino sought to speak the truth about the injustices he experienced at the hands of power-hungry patrons. Although he abhorred and vehemently criticized the patronage system, once he was situated in the safe haven of the Venetian republic he nevertheless maintained close connections to those associated with this very system, in particular the printers Francesco Marcolini and Gabriel Giolito, who were wellsituated at the center of a burgeoning publishing industry in Venice. From them he received commissions and income that supported his life of luxury and intellectual freedom.3 His profession—his rule— was that of the pen. When Aretino began his career as a professional author in Venice, he did so not only as a disgruntled critic of the Roman court but also as a rebel in a general act of defiance. For all courts symbolized to him "the treachery ... cruelty of harlots ... the insolence of the effeminate." He declared in a letter to Doge Andrea Gritti that only in Venice was there no "theft, or violence or murder." Venice was [ xi ]

the "friend of strangers, the sustainer of religion, the defender of the faith, the executor of justice, the dispenser of charity and author of clemency."4 As a mercantile center in the sixteenth century, Venice was free to extend its bounty by involving many merchants of Europe and the East in its trade. Aretino found his most fruitful years as a writer, then, in an economically prosperous and hospitable city. Venice, in contrast to other Italian republics, represented to him the harmonious union of "masculine independence" and female nurturing, all bound up in the figure of its benevolent doge.5 There, nobles, merchants, courtesans, and streetwalkers alike contributed to and were involved in lucrative commercial exchanges. Aretino argued that only in Venice could authors sell their wares at a price that was commensurate with their real worth, because the Venetian writer, not his patrons, controlled the market. Aretino's contempt for the many abuses wrought against writers by Renaissance patrons did not discourage him, however, from seeking the protection of highly placed individuals in Venice who maintained close connections with the doge. Shortly after moving to Venice, Aretino worked quickly to build a firm foundation of artistic support among the Venetian patriciate and expatriate authors, such as Nicolo Franco and Anton Francesco Doni, which stood him in good stead until his death in 1556. Having joined ranks with the Venetian poligrafi—professional writers for the vernacular press— Aretino took advantage of the rapid production of his literary works in order to create a powerful literary identity.6 In a letter to his architect friend Sansovino, he wrote, "Here the good foreigner equals not only a citizen but is comparable to a gentleman."7 In this and many other letters he stressed how the island republic favored pursuit of material and economic fortune that allowed all of its inhabitants to prosper equally. Even though Venice prided itself on a broad-based system of rule and patronage, it also displayed an uneasy attraction to the traditions of the court, which were based on exclusivity, absolutism, and homogeneity. The internal structure of the Venetian government in fact was not unlike that of the court.8 It is in this social and political context that Aretino erected his platform as self-appointed prophet and critic, following the dictates of "nature" rather than the strictures of literary conventions. However, Aretino's posture of sprezzatura, or unaffected nonchalance, and his penchant for plain and direct speech eventually led to the ban of all his literary works in [ xii ]

1558, only two years after his death, when they were placed on the Index of Forbidden Books.9 This list was established in its most comprehensive form in 1559 by Pope Paul IV and was designed to prevent heretical works and the writings of Protestants from infecting the Catholic world. Parodoxically the Index and the Roman Inquisition ensured for many centuries to come Aretino's mythic stature as a transgressor who fearlessly spoke the truth and reveled in the erotic. Born on 20 April 1492 in Arezzo to Margherita (Tita) Bonci and Luca Del Tura, a lowly cobbler, Aretino was of humble origins.10 His father abandoned the family when his wife became the mistress of a local noble, Luigi Bacci. At the age of 14, Aretino left Arezzo for Perugia, where he worked in a painter's studio and later in a bookseller's shop. He recorded his memories of Perugia in a letter to a friend written on 26 January 1536 in which he says that this is the place "where my youth came to flower." In 1512, he published in Venice his first book of poetry, Opera nova di Strambotti, Sonetti, Capitoli, Epistole, Barzelletti e una Desperata (New Work of Folk Lyrics, Sonnets, Capitoli, Epistles, Comic Songs, and a Lament). After a brief stay in Siena with relatives, he went to Rome, where he was taken in by a banker and merchant, Agostino Chigi. Later he joined the entourage of a cardinal, which gave him the opportunity to make important, powerful friends, some of whom rallied to his defense in moments of need. When Aretino left Rome the first time in search of commissions, he wandered about the north of Italy until the election of Pope Leo X in 1513, whereupon he returned. He became a central figure in the cultural and artistic world of Rome, enjoying the friendships of Raphael and Sebastiano del Piombo, two of the most respected painters of the early sixteenth century. When Leo X died in 1521 troubles began for Aretino. He had actively participated in support of the candidacy of a Medicean pope, while writing attacks on the very man who was eventually elected, a Flemish candidate who took the name Hadrian VI. These lively and clever squibs made Aretino famous all over Europe but unwelcome in Rome, which he was forced to leave in 1523. He then joined Giovanni de' Medici of the Black Bands and became his secretary. During the same year Aretino was in Florence with Cardinal Giulio de' Medici, he closely aligned himself to the Mantua court of Federico Gonzaga. When Hadrian VI died and Giulio de' Medici was elected pope, taking the name of Clement VII, Aretino decided [ xiii ]

to return to Rome. After a bitter dispute with the papal datary, Giovanni Giberti, over the imprisonment of Marcantonio Raimondi, the producer of etchings of sixteen erotic drawings by Giulio Romano, Aretino appealed to the pope to secure Raimondi's release. Aretino later wrote sixteen Sonetti lussuriosi to accompany the engravings, which he circulated in manuscript.11 A serious scandal ensued, which compelled Aretino to leave Rome again. He found refuge in the camp of Giovanni of the Black Bands and remained his close friend and confidant until Giovanni's death in 1526. In 1525 he wrote the first draft of his play La cortigiana (The Courtesan).12 That year, on the night of 28 July, an attempt was made on Aretino's life by Achille della Volta, allegedly with the support of the papal datary Giberti. Aretino escaped with serious dagger wounds on his hands and face. In 1526 he accompanied Giovanni on the military campaign of the League of Cognac against the imperial troops until Giovanni's death in combat in November. Aretino was deeply affected by his friend's death. When Aretino predicted the fall and sack of Rome at the hands of the imperial troops in 1527—which in fact occurred that year— his authority as a political seer, already evident in his Roman compositions, was immensely enhanced. But Aretino had left Rome for good in 1525, and was safe from harm, protected first by the Gonzagas in Mantua and then in his new abode on the Grand Canal in Venice. During the years between 1516 and 1527, Aretino composed the epic poem Marfisaand the play //Marescalco (The Stablemaster), the latter dedicated to the Gonzaga rulers of Mantua. In May of 1527 Aretino settled in Venice, where he stayed for the remainder of his life. His house on the Grand Canal became a center of social life for the city's elite, his artist friends, courtesans, and writers. From 1532 to 1546, in amazingly quick succession, Aretino wrote his most famous works, starting with a new version of // Marescalco and a second draft of the play La Cortigiana (The Courtesan), followed soon after by satiric dialogues, the Ragionamenti, Part One (1534) and Part Two (1536), the Passione di Gesu (Jesus' Passion); the plays La Talanta (The Tantalus), Lo Ipocrito (The Hypocrite), II Filosofo (The Philosopher), and a tragedy, L'Orazio (Horace). He also published many polemical and religious works (such as Le Carte parlanti and Sette Salmi) and, most important, six volumes of letters in the vernacular—a genre which he proudly invented. The complete run of letters was an immediate bestseller and was reprinted seven times in 1538, once by Marcolini [ xiv ]

and subsequently by five other printers. There were five more reprints in 1539.13 In 1536 Emperor Charles V, who had been attacked by Aretino in one of his publications in 1534, awarded him an annual pension of 200 scudi to ensure that he remained an ally in the ongoing war between France and the Holy Roman Empire. By the 1530s Aretino's success as a writer was established. Although he continued to write poems, his preferred literary vehicles were satiric dialogues, prognostications, plays, biblical paraphrases, and, above all, letters. Despite the ban on his books and the erotic subject matter of his dialogues, his works were not intended only for tightly knit groups of male intellectuals, as was the case for other erotic satires of the same period.14 Aretino's dialogues were intended for everyone who desired an inside glimpse of the workings of Renaissance cultural, political, and religious institutions. In the dialogues, this complex machinery was examined from the vantage point, not of the male elite, but rather of lower-class women, women who were deeply mistrustful and scornful of pretentious, misogynist, and vindictive male intellectuals. Invectives and satiric dialogues were Aretino's favored mode of literary expression. His Ragionamenti, also titled Sei giornate, appeared in two distinct parts, the first in 1534, the second in 1536. Part One consists of a dialogue between two prostitutes who are longtime friends, the young and less experienced Antonia and the older, more cynical Nanna. Together they lead the first three days of the dialogue, while Nanna, a wetnurse, and a midwife host the next three days in Part Two.15 Nanna's youngest daughter, Pippa, is presented with choices about which life she should choose in her adulthood—nun, wife, or whore. She provides her listeners and readers with the tantalizing opportunity to spy on two prostitutes, and to eavesdrop on a mother and daughter's conversations about sex. Taking his reader into his confidence, Aretino, through the voice of Nanna, exposes the commercial techniques a successful prostitute employs to win over her "victims": she swindles them through fake offers, she feigns illness to win their sympathy, and she assumes specific roles (married woman, maiden, young man) in order to satisfy their desires. Nanna reviews her own life as a nun, wife, and prostitute so that [ xv ]

Antonia can arrive at a final decision about the direction Pippa should choose. On the fifth day in Part Two of the dialogues, Nanna warns her daughter about male aggressiveness and vindictiveness, while on the final day, a midwife explains to a wetnurse, with Nanna and Pippa present, how to be a procuress. She begins with an account of her entrance into the convent as a young girl who naively believes that she has found a refuge of religious devotion and fervor. She learns very quickly that the only fervor in this convent is in connection with the sexual capers of her new "sisters" with their religious mentors, which she is able to observe through several cracks in her room. Indeed, once accepted into the folds of the church, Nanna dines sumptuously, topping off her dinner with glass dildos offered as dessert. The unseemliness of these first scenes allows Aretino to wage a calculated attack on the papal court of Rome of the 1520s, which had subjected him to humiliation, expulsion, and attempted murder. In the first days of the dialogues in Part One, erotic discourse is utilized to denounce such diverse things as clerical piety, court life, humanist educational programs, and a Neoplatonic philosophy of love. In this respect, Aretino's discourse differs from that of modern pornography, which concentrates strictly on sexual exploits between individuals. His detailed description of sexual behavior combines with many areas of human experience—political, social, and economic. Aretino achieves his comedic effect by interweaving scathing attacks on the Roman church, which he now characterizes as no longer the head of the world but rather its whorish and sodomitic "tail," with mocking assaults on Platonic literary dialogues.16 But this humor quickly dissolves when the two women interlocutors descend into the sordid realities of sexual bondage. Nanna relates how her mother was compelled to remove her from the convent because Nanna had been attacked and savagely beaten by a man of the clergy. The following day, she warns Pippa that a courtier's evil slander against a whore can ruin her life forever: "I don't know where we get this evil reputation of swindling and slandering men; and I am amazed that nobody ever describes how they in turn treat whores. But if you set on one side all the men ruined by whores, and on the other side all the whores shattered by men, you will see who bears the greater blame, we or they." Nanna goes on to say: "And they aren't even aware of their disgrace, for they made us into whores and taught us all those filthy stunts; and all of our whoring [ xvi ]

abilities and charms have come to us from the caprices of this or that whoremaster ... And it's clear that accursed cold cash enchanted the whore who first turned her ass for it." After Aretino condemns the hypocritical acts of a diseased church, he turns to the affected speech of the courtier. In the second part of the Ragionamenti, Nanna claims to speak plainly, that is, without the absurd affectations of the courtier, who she says resembles a magpie: "But I, who am myself, speak as I please and not with my cheeks puffed out, spitting forth brine; I walk on my own feet and not those of a crane; I say the words as they trip to my tongue; I don't lift them out of my mouth with a fork, because they are words, not confectionaries; when I speak I resemble a woman and not a magpie." A whoremaster's jargon is merely verbal pretension. Through the union of artifice and improvised and invented speech, the prostitute destabilizes all boundaries between herself and her client because she is the architect of an ever-changing yet credible facade that mystifies her victim. In addition, the whore's commercial outlook and emotional makeup free her from obligation and privilege, allowing her to focus on financial gain rather than lust or romantic love: She who becomes a whore in order to satisfy her lust and not her hunger runs the risk of swimming in the open, dangerous sea. Any woman who wants to leave rags behind, who wants, I say, to throw off her tatters, must be shrewd and clever, and she should not go buzzing away like a mosquito either in her deeds or her words. Now here's a fine comparison hot from the oven; for I make it all up as I go, I improvise and don't drag things out by the hair, I say them right off in a single breath and not in a hundred years, as do certain wornout style-doctors who teach us to write books taking a lifetime on their "so-to-speaks," "as-it-weres," and "as-to-shits."

By accumulating sexually explicit descriptions and by proliferating metaphors until they explode on the page in an excess of invention and neologism, Aretino takes aim at a host of Renaissance writers and conventions. He is aware of the power of language to arouse visceral responses. At one point Antonia cries: "Yes, I tell you, your stories are so natural and vivid you make me piss, though I have eaten neither truffles nor cardoons." When relating the lot of the subjugated wife, Nanna recounts to Antonia how her own mother "began to let it be known that she [ xvii ]

wanted to arrange a marriage for me, giving out now one story, now another, about me leaving the convent." So Nanna escapes from the convent in order to seek the honest life of the wife but finds very quickly that this life is no more virtuous than that of the nun. When her mother chooses an old man as her future mate, Nanna realizes that her only chance for sexual fulfillment now and in the future will involve duping this husband and finding pleasure elsewhere. She understands that this arranged marriage served only the needs of her impoverished mother and that it was, therefore, a bundle of lies from the start. Nanna's mother sells her into marital bondage; the honest life of the married woman turns out to be a sham. Nanna's women friends help to distance her from the tedium and slavery of this marriage by introducing her to the world of adultery. Nanna reminds Antonia that the fault of sexual transgression lies not with the prostitute who sells "that which she has to sell" but with a society that forces a young woman to work or live in a place that is not of her own making or choosing. In a Boccaccian comic spirit, Aretino focuses on the cleverness of women in deceiving their jealous husbands. The marriage ends only when Nanna is caught in bed with a lover. Her husband assaults her on the spot; she then pulls out a dagger and drives it into his left breast until his pulse stops beating. During the third day of Part One, Nanna places herself at the center of the actions she describes. She calls her listeners' and readers' attention to her ability to create fictions, and to mold herself according to the whims of her clients, using all the tricks of her trade. But when she finally instructs Pippa about her future profession as prostitute, she emphasizes not the web of lies she weaves to win over her clients, but her uncanny ability to secure financially lucrative transactions. "A whore turns everything to her advantage," she exclaims. Nanna reminds Pippa that a woman's only social lever is her ability to go beyond romantic notions of love and to resist or overturn any subjugation visited upon her by men. In fact, Antonia concludes, after hearing all the sordid details of Nanna's encounters with men of the church and her experiences of married life, that it is best to make Pippa a whore. Aretino's readers would have understood fully Antonia's conclusion; it was tantamount to a moral condemnation of dishonesty, sexual hypocrisy, clerical corruption, and male arrogance in the treatment of women. Only the whore is capable of honesty: "the nun is a traitor to her sacred vows, the wife an assassin of holy matrimony; but the whore [ xvin ]

attacks neither the convent nor the husband. In fact. .. her shop sells that which she has to sell... So be open-handed with Pippa and make her a whore from the start." Nanna and Antonia's rejection of marriage for Pippa and their endorsement of the illicit world of the prostitute, concubine, or courtesan are manifestations of the kind of professional freedom that Aretino claimed was available to him in Venice. Just as professional writers fashion a public persona of their own choosing, prostitutes and other marginalized individuals manipulate their public identity to serve their own designs. Prostitutes, like writers who are released from the shackles of corrupt patrons, can rework the parameters of their profession because they carry out their lives honestly, free from hypocrisy. Indeed, Aretino will go so far as to argue that "whores are not women, they are whores." Their power comes from an ability to create a new symbolic order that is different from that of other women. And yet that order still causes the women who practice this profession to feel much bitterness and anguish. Nanna wails: "can the woman I described be happy, since if she stays, goes, sleeps, or eats, she must whether she likes it or not, sit with someone else's buttocks, walk with someone else's feet, sleep with someone else's eyes, and eat with someone else's mouth? How can she be content when all people point her out as a slut and a public woman? . . . ever since money came into existence, a whore must open her legs as well for a lackey as for a king." This denunciation of a whore's sexual and emotional servility is echoed almost fifty years later in one of Veronica Franco's letters to a friend, a mother considering making her daughter into a courtesan.17 A famous Venetian courtesan and poet of the latter half of the sixteenth century, Franco comments on the horrors of female servitude by focusing on the grim realities of the life of a courtesan forced to offer sex to a man for a price. Franco vehemently decries the hypocrisy of a political system that assures freedom for some citizens while depriving others of crucial personal liberties. She writes from personal experience, exposing the difficulties that an impoverished Venetian woman faces when deciding the future for her young daughter. A woman, Franco implies, lacks the necessary social freedom to make a wise choice. She warns her friend that many women are placed against their will in morally precarious positions that compromise their human dignity and individual beliefs. For this reason Franco dissuades her friend from introducing her daughter to the profession of courtesan. What's more, [ xix ]

few women possess the necessary skills and cunning to even survive under these conditions: It's a most wretched thing, contrary to human reason, to subject one's body and labor to a slavery terrifying even to think of. To make oneself prey to so many men, at the risk of being stripped, robbed, even killed, so that one man, one day, may snatch away from you everything you've acquired from many over such a long time, along with so many other dangers of injury and dreadful contagious diseases; to eat with another's mouth, sleep with another's eyes, move according to another's will, obviously rushing toward the shipwreck of your mind and body—what greater misery? What wealth, what luxuries can outweigh all this ?

Franco's letters echo Aretino's satiric portraits of the whore's profession and their attack on the social and political structures of Venice that allowed prostitution to flourish, and poignantly demonstrate an affinity with Aretino's characterization of the whore's predicament. Ian Moulton persuasively writes that Aretino's dialogues reveal both ambivalence to and an indictment of the social and political inequalities women experienced in early modern Italy: And while they were often read as an attack on female corruption, they also sympathize with the cunning, cleverness, and energy of their female protagonists to a greater degree than almost any other text of the period ... On the one hand, Nanna and Antonia can be read as monstrous—as whores they are not even women; they are subhuman predators. On the other, as the ultimate decision to make Pippa a whore suggests, being a courtesan offers a woman a way to transcend some of the social limitations placed on her by her gender.18

In the second part of the Ragionamenti, Pippa is placed in the role of the student while Nanna expounds on the respectability of the whore, parodying the humanist pedagogical impulse to hold forth on ideal moral behavior. Nanna points out the practical and sometimes cruel economics of the marketplace whereby prostitutes exchange sexual favors for financial profit. She cautions Pippa that the most successful prostitute is one who operates like a "dry goods dealer who sells his goods at a stiff price." Nanna explains, "one can compare the lewd tricks, the sly twists, squeezes, and titillations of [ xx ]

an adept and crafty whore to the goods that come out of a dry goods dealer's shop ... in her shop a whore has sweet little words, laughs, kisses, and killing looks; but all this is nothing, for she has in her hands, cunt, and ass all the rubies, pearls, diamonds, and emeralds, the very melody of this world." When recounting stories of men's sexual abuse of women, Nanna also points out writers' penchant for cruelty, which often leads to women's tragic ruin. She concludes that prostitutes and courtiers share a common vulnerability: they are expendable once used by their patrons. They can be discarded when no longer worth anything to the possessor. Nanna says, "Master Andrea used to say that whores and courtiers can be put in the same scales; in fact, you see most of them looking like defaced silver coins rather than bright gold pieces." Nanna warns Pippa that "the sweet smell of money prevents the stench of rotten breath or filthy feet from reaching your nose." Aretino's satiric dialogues address a host of subjects and a broad range of activities and, in this sense, depart from modern notions of the pornographic. Sexuality in the early modern period was not confined to a separate, private sphere but rather was intricately connected to commerce, friendship, patronage, and a wide array of endeavors. Aretino's erotic discourse grew out of advances in creating reproducible images, the radically changed nature of authorship and print, and growth in the size of the reading public. The print industry allowed for the first time in history wide circulation of popular printed goods and private manuscript erotica, and swift reproduction of texts and images. As a result of these developments, Aretino had greater means at his disposal with which to attack everything from Renaissance humanism and clerical piety to the vicissitudes of court life.19 By the end of the fifteenth century, Europe had only recently acquired the tools for the development of an explicit erotic culture. The print industry capitalized on an urban reading public and the power of reproducible images, generating materials that came to be considered distinctly pornographic. In an expanded commodity market, what had previously been viewed as erotic became illicit, leading to policing of texts and images, the inspection of bookstores, and the creation of an index of prohibited books. What is kept separate in the modern world was fused in early modern Italy: the private worlds of sexual acts and the public arenas of friendship, patronage, and relations of service and commerce. Aretino clearly understood that these spheres of interest are shaped [ xxi ]

by print culture, as are many aspects of human endeavor. From this insight he profited handsomely. Despite his claims to the contrary, Aretino sold what the market required and at the price set by the market, even in Venice. He was technically just as "unfree" a worker as the woman prostitute whom he satirized in such lavish and sordid detail. The prostitute functions, in this sense, as the ventriloquized double of his authorial self. He hated what he had been forced to do as a writer and intellectual, especially before he settled in Venice; at the same time, he admired prostitutes' and courtesans' inventiveness and honesty. When he asserts that a prostitute's vices are really her virtues we can see how he rejects the humanist's image of the author as a free agent, which he knows all too well is a lie. In essence, he denounces the courtier's abjection, likening himself to a venal prostitute.20 Aretino, perhaps better than any other Italian satirist, saw behind social and literary pretensions and the counterfeit world they share. Both courtiers and prostitutes attach themselves to a marketplace where goods are exchanged but never produced. But a whore, to his mind, is more honest than a courtier because a whore reveals her need to make a profit even if it requires cunning and deceit to achieve her goal. As Nanna tells Pippa, a whore's merchandise when up for sale "resembles a grocery shop which has secretly gone into bankruptcy" even though "all its cases are in order and its little pots and vases are in rows neatly labeled with letters . . . yet open this vase or that, and what do you find: a big zero." NOTES

1 For a discussion of Aretino's reputation throughout Europe, see Raymond B. Waddington, Aretino's Satyr: Sexuality, Satire, and Self-Promotion in Sixteenth-Century Literature and Art (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2004), especially 3-55. See also James Grantham Turner, Schooling Sex: Libertine Literature and Erotic Education in Italy, France, and England, 1534-1685 (Oxford University Press, 2003), especially the chapters on Aretine literary influences in England; and Ian F. Moulton, Before Pornography: Erotic Writing in Early Modern England (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 129-39. 2 On the power of the print revolution and the production of images in relation to Aretino's works, see Giovanni Falaschi, Progetto corporative e autonomia dell'arte in Pietro Aretino (Florence: Sansoni, 1977); Wad-

[ xxii ]

3

4

5

6

7 8

9

10

11

12

dington, Aretino's Satyr, Bette Talvacchia, Taking Positions: On the Erotic in Renaissance Culture (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999), 56-64. On the powerful publishing houses of Marcolini and Gioliti, see Brian Richardson, Printing, Writers and Readers in Renaissance Italy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 91-95; Amedeo Quondam, "Mercanzia d'onore/Mercanzia d'utile. Produzione libraria e lavoro intellettuale a Venezia nel Cinquecento," in Libri, editori e pubblico nell'Europa moderna, ed. A. Petrucci (Bari: Laterza, 1976), 53-104, and "Nel giardino del Marcolini. Un editore veneziano tra Aretino e Doni," Giornale storico della letteratura italiana 157 (1980): 75-125. For the English translation of Aretino's first book of letters, see Aretino: Selected Letters, trans. George Bull (New York: Penguin Books, 1976), and for this reference, see Book One, 65-66. For a discussion of Aretino's conflation of genders in the figure of the doge, Andrea Gritti, see Margaret F. Rosenthal, "Epilogue," in Aretino's Dialogues (New York: Marsilio, 1994), 390-91. On Venetian poligrafi, see Paul F. Grendler, Critics of the Italian World, 1530-1560: Anton Francesco Doni, Nicolo Franco and Ortensio Lando (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1969); Claudia Di Filippo Bareggi, // Mestiere di scrivere: Lavoro intellettuale e mercato librario a Venezia nel Cinquecento (Rome: Bulzoni, 1988). Aretino's Letters, as cited in Ilprimo libro delle lettere di M. Pietro Aretino (Paris: Matteo il Maestro, 1609), vol. 1: 190-91. On this point, see Martha Feldman, City Culture and the Madrigal at Venice (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995), 3-13, especially 13. With regard to Aretino's work, Venetian publishers, and the Index, see Paul F. Grendler, The Roman Inquisition and the Venetian Press, 15401605 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1977). For a reliable modern biography, see Giuliano Innamorati's entry in Dizionario biografico degli italiani (Rome: Istituto della enciclopedia italiana, I960-), vol. 4: 89-104. On these poems and engravings, see Talvacchia, Taking Positions, 3-47; see also the introduction to I Modi: The Sixteen Pleasures. An Erotic Album of the Italian Renaissance, ed. Lynn Lawner (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1988). For an excellent analysis of Aretino's erotic language, see Massimo Ciavolella, "La produzione erotica di Pietro Aretino," in Pietro Aretino nel cinquecentenario della nascita (Rome: Salerno, 1995), vol. 1: 49-66. For an excellent modern edition, translation, and introduction to this

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13 14

15

16

17

18 19

20

play, see Cortigiana, trans. J. Douglas Campbell and Leonard G. Sbrocchi, introduction by Raymond B. Waddington (Ottawa: Dovehouse Editions, 2003). On the publishing history of Aretino's letters, see Waddington, Aretino's Satyr, 57-58. On this subject, see Ian F. Moulton's excellent introduction to his edition of Antonio Vignali, La Cazzaria: The Book of the Prick (London: Routledge, 2003). On the different professions available to women in the early modern period in Italy, see Guido Ruggiero, "Marriage, Love, Sex, and Renaissance Civic Morality," in Sexuality and Gender in Early Modern Europe, ed. James G. Turner (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 10-30. On Aretino's critiques of Neoplatonic dialogues on love, see Giovanni Aquilecchia, "Pietro Aretino e altri poligrafi a Venezia," in Storia della Cttltura veneta 3.2 (Vicenza: Neri Pozza, 1982): 72-80. See Ann Rosalind Jones and Margaret F. Rosenthal, eds. and trans., Veronica Franco: Poems and Selected Letters (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), 37-40 for the letter itself, and 11-13 for an analysis. Moulton, Before Pornography, 131 and 132. For an incisive examination of the multipronged attack on Aretino's satire in the dialogues, see Paula Findlen, "Humanism, Politics and Pornography in Renaissance Italy" in The Invention of Pornography, ed. Lynn Hunt (New York: Zone Books, 1993), 49-108. I am indebted to Constance Jordan for her helpful comments on this subject which were presented at the UCLA meeting commemorating Aretino in 1992.

[ xxiv ]

Aretino's Dialogues, comprising The Discourse (1534) exchanged in Rome beneath a fig tree by Nanna and Antonia, composed on a whim by the Divine Aretino to chastise three forms of womanhood; and The Dialogues (1536), in which, on the first day, Nanna teaches her daughter, Pippa, how to become a whore, and on the second, how men betray the wretched women who trust them, while on the third day, in the garden, they listen both to their Godmother and to their Wetnurse who debate the art of pandering.

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PART ONE PIETRO ARETINO TO HIS DARLING MONKEY

HAIL, dear monkey! Hail, I say, for Fortune still guides beasts by the hand and so has brought you from where you were born to me who, after realizing that you are a great lord in the form of a beast, just as Pythagoras was a philosopher in the form of a rooster, dedicate to you these labors or, rather, these pastimes of eighteen consecutive mornings—not as to an ape, monkey, or baboon but as to a great lord. Had I not learned from Nature's intimate that you were indeed a lord, I would have dedicated the Dialogues of Nanna and Antonia as to a beast. Why even the Romans, after having inflicted capital punishment on a man who killed a crow—whose only virtue was that it saluted Caesar—not only had the bird carried on a litter by two Ethiopians preceded by bagpipes but even named the place where it was buried "Ridicule." So the absurdity of many wise ancients may excuse that of one foolish modern. Now to prove that it is true that you are a lord we shall begin by telling you that you have a man's shape and are who you are, while they have the renown of great lords and are what they are. You, because of your greed, gulp down everything, while they, because of theirs, devour so flagrantly that gluttony can no longer be found among the seven mortal sins. You would steal even a needle; and they steal even with murder, looking upon the place where they commit their robberies just as you do. They are generous, as their servants and underlings will cry to whoever asks, whereas you are

[ 3]

courteous, as those who try to take anything out of your claws can swear. You are so lewd that you corrupt even yourself, while they, without the slightest shame, enjoy themselves on their own flesh. Your presumption outdoes the most brazen, and theirs surpasses that of the most famished. You are always covered with filth, and they are always smeared with ointments. Your restlessness turns and turns without ever finding peace; and their brains are as stable as a lathe; your pranks are the entertainment of the people, and their stupidity makes them the world's laughing stock; you are troublesome, and they are importunate. You are afraid of everyone and make each person afraid of you; and they frighten everyone and are afraid of everyone. Your vices are incomparable, and theirs inestimable; you make strange faces at each person who brings you food, and they do not look with esteem at anyone, save those who purvey to their pleasures. They do not mind the insults that are said about them, and you the slights that you receive. So let me not forget that if great lords resemble monkeys, monkeys also resemble great lords. But you must realize, wise satraps, that among the great lords similar to Bagattino (for that's what I call my pet) the King of France is not included, for he makes us divine by taking the same name as us and makes the gods human by not letting us call him a god. But to return to you, Bagattino, I say that if you were without taste, as princes are, I would try to excuse the licentious speech in this work which I publish under your protection (which you will enjoy as much as those great personages enjoy the works which every day are unworthily dedicated to them by mentioning in its behalf Virgil's Prispea and all those salacious works which were written by Ovid, Juvenal, and Martial. But since you are as learned as they are, I shall say no more, expecting as a reward for making you immortal a bite, which you will give me as soon as you can, for even lofty prelates pay with such coin the authors of the praises they receive, and for no other reason than the fact that they understand knowledge just as you understand it. I should also say, if it were nice to say, that they have souls that greatly resemble yours. What I can certainly declare is that great men conceal their faults behind books, which are written for them, just as you conceal your ugliness beneath the suit I had made for you. Now, my Supreme Highness Bagattino (for that is how one [4 ]

addresses great lords who are worthy of such dignity as you), take these pages of mine and tear them up, for great lords not only tear up the pages dedicated to them but even wipe themselves with them, as I almost didn't tell you. And they do it for the praise and glory of the idiotic Muses who, running with lifted skirts after the great lords, are appreciated by them as you appreciate them. Perhaps you would have liked, when it comes to what Nanna says of the nuns, that I hadn't been as malicious as she is. Nanna is a chatterbox, and she says anything that comes to her lips, and it is right to say as much evil as possible about the nuns, since they exhibit themselves to the vulgar in a way that is worse than streetwalkers. And having by the stench of their corruption already filled the world with AntiChrists, they prevent us from knowing the true brides of virginity and hand-maidens of God, who do exist. And while I still remember it, I must say that I feel completely comforted by something holy and saintly which passes through one's soul as soon as one reaches their dwelling places, just as the sweet suavity of roses reaches one's nose as soon as one comes to the place where they grow. Who would care to hear angels after hearing those girls chant the holy office by which they hold off the wrath of God, moving him to forgive our sins ? Indeed Nanna does not speak of the observers of sworn chastity, as she herself will say in her conversation with Antonia, but about those nuns whose stench is the Devil's perfume. And certainly just as I would never dare to adore, obey, or praise any other than the very Christian King, Francis I, nor sing of any other than the great Antonio da Leva, nor exalt any other Duke than that of Florence, nor serve any other Marquis than the Marquis of Vasto, nor revere any other prince than the Prince of Salerno, nor mention any other count than Counts Guide Rangone and Massimiano Stampa, so I should never have dared to think, much less write, what I set on paper about the nuns if I did not believe that the flame of my fiery pen would clean away the shameful stains which their lewd behavior has left on their lives. Those who should live in their monasteries as lilies do in their gardens have covered themselves with the muck of the world, so that not only heaven but the very abyss is revolted by them. Therefore I hope that my book will be like the scalpel, at once cruel and merciful, with which the good doctor cuts off the sick limb so that the others will remain healthy. [ 5 ]

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1 THIS BEGINS THE FIRST DAY OF CONVERSATIONS IN WHICH NANNA, BENEATH A FIG TREE IN ROME, TELLS ANTONIA THE LIFE OF THE NUNS, COMPOSED BY THE DIVINE ARETINO FOR HIS AMUSEMENT AND TO SET FORTH CORRECTLY THE THREE CONDITIONS OF WOMEN. ANTONIAgfnhkcnvgknngnbkdgjnkcgkfcgkgkdj,nknk,nkhndgcdg woebesmeared face befits a woman who rules the world? NANNAkfhjhjdgjjdgkdgkgjdgjk ANTOljlmbfljhnljkjkbkdnjbkfgkfcvckjknmcnvkgfmcnvkfjgfngfkj for the greetings of the French pox, can't even get a bark from a dog. I'm poor and proud, and if I were also to call myself depraved I would hardly be sinning against the Holy Ghost. NANNAfkdghdcfkjghkghdkfhgkdhgfgdkhvcvmnvxdnbgxnvxhfdk and so many of them, just where you'd imagine there would be joys, that you'd be astonished. Take my word for it, this world is a filthy place. ANTOkdtgcjfnvkjcjfgldxfhgkdfjghkdfjghkdfjhkdfjhkdjfghkdfjlvgj for you. Why, you can afford the most fantastic delicacies, and everywhere, in all the piazzas and taverns, one hears nothing but "Nanna this" and "Nanna that." Your house is always packed like an egg, and all Rome dances around you, the way Hungarians foot it at the Jubilee. NANNdfsdjfbgsjfbmbbvxmbvjdfjdsfhgvxncbjsmxdbhfsmdhjxdjb who, though famished and sitting at the head of a table laden with all sorts of food, doesn't dare eat because of a certain shyness. Yes, yes, sister, my heart is not where it should be. ... Ah, what's the use! [ 7]

ANTONIASo you sigh, eh? NANNAAh .. . ANTONIA You do wrong to sigh. Watch out, or the Lord God may give you a good reason for sighing. NANNAHow can I help it? Now that my Pippa has turned sixteen and I must decide her future, they're all on my neck. One person tells me: "Make her a nun. Just think, besides saving the threefourths of her dowry, you'll be adding another saint to the calendar." Another says: "Marry her off. After all, you're so rich you won't even miss what she takes away with her." And others urge me to set her up right off as a courtesan. "This world is rotten anyway," they say, "and even if it becomes a proper one, by making her a courtesan you'll also be making her a lady. And with what you own and she will soon be earning, she will become a veritable queen." And all their advice has driven me out of my wits. So you see, Nanna has her troubles, too. ANTONIA For a great woman like you such troubles are sweeter than a light rash to a man who, in the evening, standing before the fire, drops his pants and feels his mouth fill with water at the pleasurable thought of a good scratch ahead. No, real troubles are to see the grain go up in price; real torments, to watch the wine get scarce; real torture, to have to pay the rent; and real death, to dose yourself with quaiacum two or three times a year and still not deboil and depustule yourself or get rid of the pain. I'm really surprised at you, bothering your head over such trifles. NANNAWhy surprised? ANTONIABecause you who were born and raised in Rome should be able to dispatch your doubts about Pippa with your eyes closed.. Tell me, weren't you a nun ? NANNAYes. ANTONIADidn't you have a husband? NANNAI did. ANTONIAAnd weren't you a courtesan? NANNAI was and I am. ANTONIA Well then, don't you have the strength of spirit to choose the best of the three ? NANNAMother of God, I don't. [ 8]

ANTONIAWhy not? NANNABecause nowadays nuns, wives, and whores live different lives from what they used to. ANTONIAHa! Life has always been lived in the same way: people have always eaten, have always drunk, have always slept, have always looked, have always lain awake, have always gone and always stayed, and women have always pissed through the crack. Now I would dearly love you to tell me about the lives of the nuns, wives, and whores of your day, and I swear by the seven churches that I have vowed to visit this coming Lent that I shall settle in a jiffy what you must do with your girl. Now, look here, you—who are what you are because you are so wise—must first tell me why making her a nun has you so worried. NANNAAgreed. ANTONIA Tell me, I beg you, since in any case this is the feast day of Magdalene, our patroness, when our particular work is not done, and even if it were, I have enough bread, wine, and cured meat to last us for three days. NANNAOh, you do? ANTONIAYes. NANNAWell, today I shall tell you the life of the nuns, tomorrow the life of the wives, and the day after that the life of the whores. Sit down here beside me, and make yourself comfortable. ANTONIAI am ready. Begin. NANNATo start with, I feel like cursing the soul of Monsignor Won't-Say-Who, who relieved this body of a girlish inconvenience. ANTONIA Oh, don't let that upset you now. NANNAMy dear Antonia, becoming a nun, a wife, or a whore is like a crossroads—when you reach it, you stop for a long while and reflect on which road to take. But often the devil drags you down the worst, as he dragged my father's blessed soul the day he made me a nun even against my mother's wishes, holy be her memory! . . . Ah, now there was a woman! You must have known her. ANTONIAI knew her almost in a dream. I know—because I heard it said—that she performed miracles in a house behind Via dei Banchi. I also heard that your father, who was a friend and informer of the police, married her for love. [ 9 ]

NANNAOh, please, don't remind me of my sorrow, for Rome was no longer Rome when it was robbed of so perfect a couple. But to return to my story . . . On the first of May, Monna Marietta (that was my mother's name, although, due to her charms, people called her "beautiful Tina") and Ser Barbieraccio, my father, after having gathered all their kinfolk, uncles and aunts, grandparents and cousins, nephews and brothers, together with a crowd of male and female friends, led me to the monastery's church. I was dressed all in silk, my waist girt with gray amber baubles, and on my head a golden coif over which rested the crown of virginity, woven out of roses and violets. I wore perfumed gloves and velvet slippers, and if I remember rightly, the pearls round my neck and the gown on my back belonged to Pagnina, who had just entered the Order of the Converted. ANTONIAThey couldn't have been anyone else's. NANNASo, richly adorned like a new bride, I entered the church, which was thronged with thousands of people. As soon as I appeared, they all turned to look at me, and one man cried: "What a lovely bride the Lord Almighty is getting!" and another man said: "What a pity to make a nun of such a beautiful young girl!" Some blessed me, others drank me in with their eyes, and still another man said: "Well, anyway, she'll make a fine New Year's feast for some monk." But I didn't think his words were meant to be malicious. Just then I heard some ardent sighs, which I could recognize by their pitch as coming from the heart of my lover, who never stopped wailing all through the ceremony. ANTONIA What! You had lovers before becoming a nun? NANNAOnly a fool wouldn't have had them, but there was no sex. Now I was seated before the other women, and after I had sat there for a while they began to sing the Mass. When this was over, I knelt between my mother Tina and my aunt Ciampolina and a clerk played a brief Laude on the organ. After the Mass and the blessing of my nun's robes, which lay on the altar, the priest who had read the Epistle and the other priest who had sung the Gospel both lifted me to my feet and made me kneel again on the predella of the main altar. Then the priest who had said Mass sprinkled me with holy water, and after having chanted with the other priests the Te Deum Laudemus and perhaps a hundred other psalms, they removed my [ 10 ]

•worldly clothes and clad me in spiritual garb. All the people began jostling and pushing, making a noise that sounded just like the noise one hears in St. Peter's or St. John's when some woman, out of insanity, despair, or cunning, gets herself walled in, as I did once myself. ANTONIAfkljgnfgklgjgfvhjd,cfmvgndfjklgkklfjgglfdgjnghkljfgjk NANNAfkhgvbhjkcgkchfgkdfgkgkdfjkdfjhkfjkdjfkfdjkdjfkdfjdkff given me the incense together with the Bendicamus and the Oremus and the Alleluia, a door swung open with the grating groan a poor box makes when you lift the lid. I was brought to my feet and led to the door, where twenty nuns and the Abbess were waiting for me. When I saw the Abbess, I dropped a pretty curtsey, and she kissed me on the forehead and mumbled something to my father, mother, and relatives, who were all weeping like fountains. Then suddenly that door slammed behind me and I heard a loud "Alas!" ANTONIAkgdfkdfgkdfjgngkdfgkdfhgkdfvgnjkdh NANNAfgjdfhdgkfgdfjkhfkhgjjkdkdfjjjkkjhkjkjhkhkhkhhdkfjkhdf turned Observant monk or Franciscan friar, if they told me the truth. ANTOfdjghdjsfhsdkjskfhdkhgjdf NANNAkdfhgdkdfgkfdkdgkdfjkhjndfkjhdfkldfkjgfdkjkdklkfjdkdkk have time to say good-bye to my family, I was sure that I was stepping alive and breathing into the grave, and imagined that I would see women half-dead from austerity and fasting. So now I no longer wept for my parents but for myself. Walking with my eyes glued to the floor and my thoughts on what fate had in store for me, I reached the refectory, where a bevy of nuns ran to embrace me, each of them calling me their dear little sister, which induced me to lift my head a bit. And when I saw those fresh, gleaming, rosy faces I took heart and, gazing at them with more assurance, said to myself: "Surely, the devils are not as ugly as they're painted." At that moment in came a troop of monks, friars, and a few laymen—the most handsome, well-groomed, gay young men I have ever laid eyes on, and each man seized his darling by the hand, and all of them together looked like the angels who lead the dances in heaven. ANTONIjdfghjdfgdfdjkbxjbxfdhjksdhj NAdjfghdfjkghdkhgkdfhgdigkdfhgdkfhkfhghgkfdhghkxdhgksdhf their nymphs. ANTONjgtghkjghjjgjkggkjhjhgkhgjhgjghjgjgjhgjhgjhg [ 11 ]

NANNfjghkdfjgkhfdgkhkhfxgfjgdkjghhfdgdhskhjgmfhgdkdjfhgfk the loveliest kisses on this earth, even vying with each other to see who could give the most honeyed ones. ANTONIAkjdghdfhkjdgjfjdgfjfdghjdfjdfgjdfg NANNAThe monks, without a doubt. ANTONIAAnd why? NANNAYou can find the reason in the poem "The Wandering Whore of Venice." * ANTONIAAnd then? NANNAThen they all sat down to one of the most delicate feasts I believe I have ever come across. My lady the Abbess sat in the place of honor, with the Abbot on her left, and behind the Abbess sat the Treasurer-Nun and alongside her the Bachelor. Opposite them sat the Nun-Sacristan and next to her the Master of Novices. Then there followed in a row a sister, a monk, a layman, and at the foot of the table, cpuntless clerks and little friars. I myself was placed between the convent's preacher and confessor. So then the food arrived, the sort of food that, I assure you, the Pope in person has never tasted. At the first assault on it all talk was laid aside, so much so that you would have said that the word "silence," posted wherever monks take their meals, had mastered all mouths, or better, all tongues. Indeed their mouths were making the mumbling noise silkworms make when, fully grown and after a long fast, they devour the leaves of the tree in whose shade poor Pyramus and Thisbe played their little games, may God be with them in the next world as he was in this one! ANTONIAYou mean the leaves of the white mulberry tree? NANNAHa ha ha! ANTONIAWhat are you laughing at now? NANNAI'm laughing at a shameless friar, God forgive me! While his jaws were working away like two grindstones and his cheeks bulged like a man blowing a trumpet, he brought a bottle to his lips and guzzled it down to the last drop. ANTONIADominedrown him! NANNAWhen they began to feel sated, they started to chatter again, and halfway through the feast I thought I was in the market * Written by one of Aretino's pupils in erotic writing, Lorenzo Veniero.

[ 12 ]

in Piazza Navona, surrounded by the gabble of some customers haggling with some Jews. When they began picking and choosing the tender tops of chicken winrgs, combs, and heads and offering them to each other, they looked just like swallows filling the beaks of their young. And I couldn't even begin to tell you how they roared with laughter when they presented the capon's ass, nor could I recount all the wrangling this caused. ANT ONI A How revolting! NANNAI felt like retching when I saw one of the nuns chew up a mouthful and then offer it straight from her mouth to the mouth of her friend. ANTONIAThe trollop! NANNANow that the pleasure of eating had turned into that peculiar sadness that overtakes some men right after performing a certain act, they began to imitate the Germans, proposing toasts and brandishing their glasses. The convent's General picked up a huge tumbler of Corso wine, asked the Abbess to follow suit, and then swigged it down like a false sacrament. All eyes now glistened from too much drink, like those silver studs on the corners of mirrors, or were misted by the wine like a diamond is by the breath, and soon would have shut and the entire company would have dozed off over their food, changing that table into bed, if just then a fine-looking young fellow hadn't arrived. He carried in his hands a basket covered with the whitest, thinnest linen imaginable. Was it snow? Frost? Milk? It outshone the moon in whiteness—the moon when it is full. ANTONIAWhat did he do with the basket, and what was in it ? NANNADon't hurry me. Bowing in the Neapolitanized Spanish style, the boy said: "Good health to your lordships," and then added: "A servant of this merry band sends you fruit from the earthly paradise." Then he uncovered the gift and set it on the table. At once a roar of laughter arose that sounded like thunder—the whole table burst out laughing, just like a poor family bursts into tears at seeing their father close his eyes forever. ANTONIA What apt and natural comparisons you make! NANNANo sooner were those fruits of paradise seen than the hands of both sexes, already engaged in conversation with one another's thighs, tits, flutes, and bags, lunged for them with the dex[ 13 ]

terity of pickpockets emptying a blockhead's purse, or as the mob dives for the candles thrown from the loggia of St. John of Lateran on Candlemas Day. ANTONIAAnd what sort of fruits were they? What? Tell me. NANNAThey were those glass fruits made in Murano near Venice to look like a prick, except that these had two large dangling bells that would have done honor to a tambourine. ANTONIAHa ha! I got it, by the beak. I'm clutching it. NANNAAnd blessed, not just lucky, was the woman who grabbed the biggest, thickest fruit, nor did a single one of them forget to kiss hers, saying as she did: "These little things abate the temptations of the flesh." ANTONIAMay .the devil destroy their seed! NANNAAnd all the while I was acting the pure country lass, stealing glances at the glass fruit like a crafty cat that keeps one eye on the servant while with its paw it tries to snatch the piece of meat she's carelessly left untended. And if the sister at my side, after snatching two, hadn't given me one so as not to appear greedy, I would certainly have taken one myself. To put an end to the turmoil, the Abbess, laughing and talking, rose to her feet, and so did everyone else, and the blessing she said at the table was in the vernacular. ANTONIAForget the blessing. When you left the table, where did you go? NANNANow I'll tell you. We walked into a parlor on the ground floor, a large, airy parlor'covered with paintings. ANTONIAPaintings? What kind? The penances of Lent, or something on that order? NANNAPenances! Not on your life. Those paintings would have made a hypocrite stop and stare. The room had four walls. On the first wall was depicted the life of St. Nafissa, the patron saint of whores, and there you saw the good girl at the age of twelve, overflowing with charity, handing out her dowry to police spies, card sharps, parsons, footmen, and all such deserving persons. Finally, when her wealth was all gone, she sat down full of compassion and humility—take my word for it—right in the middle of the Sisto bridge, with neither pomp nor trappings except for her stool, her straw mat, her little dog, and a shirred slip of paper held at the end [ 14 ]

of a split stick, with which she seemed to be fanning herself and chasing away flies. ANTONIAAnd why was she sitting on the stool? NANNAShe was performing the pious work of covering the naked. And young as she was, as I've told you, she sat there with her head held high and her mouth open, so you would have said she was singing that song "What Is My Love Doing That He Does Not Come ?" She was also painted standing up and facing a man who was ashamed and did not dare ask her for her little thing. Yet she, so kind and so gay, went right to him and led him to her cell, where she consoled the afflicted. First she took off all his clothes, peeled off his pants and socks, and uncovered his little partridge. She made such a fuss over it that it was carried away by sheer pride and plunged between her legs with the fury of a stallion that breaks his halter and hurls himself on a mare. But, feeling herself unworthy to look straight at it, or perhaps, as the preacher said when expounding her life for us, not having the courage to look at it when it became so red, so steaming hot and inflamed, she turned her back to it, magnificently. ANTONIAMay her soul be rewarded. NANNAWell, wasn't it? After all, she's a saint. ANTONIATrue enough. NANNAHow could I tell you everything ? There I saw painted the people of Israel, whorh she graciously took in and always satisfied for the love of God. Some of them, as you could see, after having tasted what was in there, left her carrying a fistful of coins that the kindness of others had forced on her. So those who had labored over her were like guests in the house of some generous host who not only welcomes you, feeds you, and gives you new clothes, but also provides you with the wherewithal to complete your journey. ANTONIA Oh, blessed, irreproachable Lady-Saint Nafissa, inspire me to follow in your holy footsteps! NANNASo, in conclusion, all that she ever did behind and before that front door and that back one is drawn as natural as life, and even her last moments are portrayed. At her burial are depicted all the Italians she stowed away in this world so as to meet them in the next, and a May salad isn't as full of as many different kinds of greens as there were screws in her coffin.

[ 15 ]

ANTONIA Anyway, I'd love to see one of those paintings. NANNAOn the second wall is the story of the mute Masetto de Lampolecchi, and I swear to you upon my soul the two nuns looked positively alive as they led him to the hut, while the big lout, pretending he was asleep, hoisted his murderous yardarm so high it made a sail of his shirt. ANTONIAHa ha ha! NANNAWe couldn't stop laughing as we watched two other nuns butt in. For after discovering their companions' frolic, they decided not to tell the Abbess but to join forces with them. But all of us were astonished when we saw Masetto telling them in sign language that he refused to play. At the end we all stopped to see the wise Mother Superior bring things back to normal by inviting the bold man to dine and sleep with her. But after some time, to avoid being flayed alive in his most precious part, one night the mute suddenly spoke up, the whole town ran to witness the miracle, and the convent was canonized as holy. ANTONIAHa ha ha! NANNAOn the third wall, if my memory serves, were portrayed all the nuns who had ever belonged to the order, with their lovers beside them and their children too, and the names of each man and -woman. ANTONIAA fine memorial. NANNAThe last picture depicted all the various modes and avenues by which one can fuck and be fucked. In fact, before beginning their jousts with their partners, the nuns must try to assume the same positions in life as the nuns painted in the picture. All this is done to avoid being clumsy in bed, as some women are, who lie there stiff as boards without scent or savor so that he who tastes them gets the same pleasure that a man gets from broad bean soup cooked without oil or salt. ANTONIASo they must have a mistress who teaches them how to fence. NANNAOf course there's a mistress. She shows the ignorant how to set themselves when lust so excites a man that he wants to mount them on a chest, a ladder, a chair, over a table, or on the bare floor. And in order to teach the proper postures to the good nuns, she [ 16 ]

must be as patient as the man who trains a dog, parrot, starling, or magpie. Indeed, juggling with little balls is much less difficult to master than learning how to stroke a prick so that, even if the desire is not there, it stands up straight and stiff. ANTON IA Are you sure? NANNAAbsolutely. Now the paintings and chattering and joking began to bore us, and just as the street flees beneath the hooves of Barbary horses' that race riderless in the Palio—or to put it more exactly, just as the steer disappears for people eating veal in a dining room, or lasagne before the hunger of a peasant—so all the nuns, monks, priests, and laymen vanished, taking with them even the chorists, the young friars, and the youthful bearer of the glass cocks. Only the Bachelor was there with me, and since I was alone and fearful, I kept silent. So he said to me: "Sister Cristina (for that is the name I was rechristened with as soon as I donned the habit), it falls to me to take you to your cell, where the soul shall be saved through the triumphs of the body." I wanted to keep him at a distance, and so, adopting a bashful demeanor, I did not say a word. He grasped me by the hand that held the glass sausage, which nearly slipped and fell, though I managed to catch it in time. When that happened I couldn't help but grin, and the saintly father was emboldened by this to kiss me—and I, born of a compassionate mother and not made of stone, stood still, but gave him a foxy look. ANTONIAVery wise. NANNAAnd so I allowed him to lead me by the hand as a blind man is led by his bitch. What then ? Well, then he took me into a small room set at the center of all the other rooms and separated from them by a simple brick partition, whose joints were so badly plastered that merely by glancing through the chinks one could see everything that was going on in each nun's cell. Once inside, the Bachelor was opening his mouth to tell me (I believe) how my beauty surpassed that of the fairies, and then to speak of my soul, my heart, my dear blood, my sweet life, and all the rest of the rigmarole that was to go with arranging me on the bed in the way he liked best, when suddenly there was a great rat tat tat that was heard not only by the Bachelor but by everyone else in the convent. It frightened them just like the sudden flinging open of a barn door frightens a horde of [ 17]

mice clustered about a pile of nuts, who then, bewildered by fear, can't even remember where they left their holes. That was how the whole convent behaved, bumping into each other as they dashed dazedly about, trying to hide from the Suffragan. For that's who it was, the Bishop's Suffragan, the convent's protector, who had scared them silly with his rat tat tat just as a shout or the flinging of a rock will make a row of frogs perched on a river bank with their heads sticking above the grass dive all at once into the water. And as the Suffragan walked through the dormitory, he almost entered the room of the Abbess, who, in company with the General, was reshaping the evening prayer to fit her nuns' little office. The Gellarist told us later that he had already lifted his hand to knock when he was distracted because a nun as erudite as Ancroia and as adept at the figurative chant as Brusiana of Buovi d'Antona * knelt at his feet. ANTONIAOh, the welcome he would have received if he had walked in! Ha ha ha! NANNABut luck let herself be hauled by the forelock all through that day, I can tell you, for scarcely had the Suffragan started to put his behind down— ANTONIANow you're speaking properly. NANNA—when here comes a Canon, that is, the Dean, who brought the news that the Bishop was on his way. So the Suffragan stood up and ran to the bishopric to tidy up and welcome him, first ordering us to celebrate and make merry by ringing the bells. As soon as he had stepped across the threshold, everyone gradually went back to where they'd left off; only the Bachelor had to leave to kiss his Reverend Lordship's hand on behalf of the Abbess. And all of them returning to their lovers looked like starlings flocking back to the olive tree they'd just been chased from by the harsh cries of the peasant, who feels his own heart is being pecked whenever one of his olives is. ANTONIAI'm waiting for you to get to the heart of your story, and I feel just like a baby waiting for his wet nurse to shove her tit in his mouth. Yes, all your dawdling seems more painful to me than * Heroines of popular poems of the period. Trans.

[ 18 ]

the day before Easter is to someone peeling eggs after fasting through Lent. NANNASo let's get to the point. I was alone now, and since I had put my love at the Bachelor's disposal, not wanting to go counter to the convent's customs, I reflected on what I had seen and heard for the five or six hours I had been there. I was still holding that glass pistil in my hand, and I began to inspect it, feeling like someone who has never seen that dreadful rainspout that hangs from the roof of the church of Piazza del Popolo. I was more astounded by it than people were by those beastly whalebones stranded at Corneto, and I could not understand why the sisters cherished it so much. As I was torn by these conflicting thoughts, I heard a loud peal of laughter, so carefree that it would have cheered up a dead man. Since the sound kept growing louder and louder, I decided to find out where it was coming from. Rising to my feet, I put my eye to a crack in the wall, and since one sees better in the dark with one eye rather than two, I stood on tiptoe, shut my left eye, and looking with my right through the slit between the bricks, I saw . . . ANTON IA What did you see? Tell me, please! NANNAIn the cell I saw four sisters, the General, and three milky-white and ruby-red young friars, who were taking off the reverend father's cassock and garbing him in a big velvet coat. They hid his tonsure under a small golden skullcap, over which they placed a velvet cap ornamented with crystal droplets and surmounted by a white plume. Then, having buckled his sword at his side, the blissful General, to speak frankly, started strutting back and forth with the big-balled stride of a Bartolomeo Colleoni. In the meantime the sisters removed their habits and the friars took off their tunics. The latter put on the sisters' robes and the sisters—that is, three of them—put on the friars'. The fourth nun rolled herself up in the General's cassock, seated herself pontifically, and began to imitate a superior laying down the law for the convent. ANTON IA What pretty pranks! NANNANow it becomes prettier. ANTON IA Why? NANNABecause the reverend father summoned the three [ 19 ]

friars and leaning on the shoulder of one of them, a tall, soft-skinned rascal who had shot up prematurely, he ordered the others to take his little sparrow, which was resting quietly, out of its nest. Then the most adept and attractive young fellow of the bunch cradled the General's songster in the palm of his hand and began stroking its back, as one strokes the tail of a cat which first purrs, then pants, and soon cannot keep still. The sparrow lifted its crest, and then the doughty General grabbed hold of the youngest, prettiest nun, threw her tunic over her head, and made her rest her forehead against the back of the bed. Then, deliberately prying open with his fingers the leaves of her afcshole Missal and wholly rapt in his thoughts, he contemplated her crotch, whose form was neither close to the bone with leanness nor puffed out with fat, but something in between—rounded, quivering, glistening like a piece of ivory that seems instinct with life. Those tiny dimples one sees on pretty women's chins and cheeks could also be seen on her dainty buttocks, whose softness was softer than that of a mill mouse born and raised in flour, and that nun's limbs were all so smooth that a hand placed gently on her loins would have slid down her leg as quickly as a foot slides on ice, and hair no more dared grow on her than it would on an egg. ANTONIASo the father General consumed his day in contemplation, eh? NANNANo, I wouldn't say he consumed it, because placing his paintbrush, which he first moistened with spit, in her tiny color cup, he made her twist and turn as women do in the birth throes or the mother's malady. And to be doubly sure that his nail would be driven more tightly into her slit, he motioned to his back and his favorite punk pulled his breeches down to his heels and applied his clyster to the reverend's visibitum, while all the time the General himself kept his eyes fixed on the two other young louts, who, having settled the sisters neatly and comfortably on the bed, were now pounding the sauce in the mortar to the great despair of the last little sister. Poor thing, she was so squint-eyed and swarthy that she had been spurned by all. So she filled the glass tool with water heated to wash the messer's hands, sat on a pillow on the floor, pushed the soles of her feet against the cell wall, and then came straight down on that great crozier, burying it in her body as a sword is thrust into a scab-

[ 26 I

bard. Overcome by the scent of their pleasure, I was more worn out than pawns are frayed by usury, and began rubbing my dear little monkey with my hand like cats in January rub their backsides on a roof. ANTONIAHa ha ha! And how did the game end ? NANNAWhen they had pushed and squirmed and twisted for half an hour,' the General suddenly cried: "Now all at the same time, and you, my dear boys, kiss me, and you too, my dove!" and holding one hand on the lovely angel's box and with the other fondling the cherub's behind, now kissing him, now kissing her, he wore that frowning look the marble statue at the Vatican Museum gives the snakes that are strangling him between his sons. In the finale the nuns on the bed with the two young men, the General and the sister he was mounted on, together with the fellow at his behind, and, last of all, the nun with her Murano prodder, all agreed to do it together as choristers sing in unison, or more to the point, as blacksmiths hammer in time, and so, each attentive to his task, all that one heard was: "Oh my God, oh my Christ!" "Hug me!" "Ream me!" "Push out that sweet tongue!" "Give it to me!" "Take it!" "Push harder!" "Wait, I'm coming!" "Oh Christ, drive it into me!" "Holy God!" "Hold me!" and "Help!" Some were whispering, others were moaning loudly— and listening to them you would have thought they were running the scales, sol, fa, me, re, do—their eyes popping out of their heads, their gasps and groans, their twistings and turnings making the chests, wooden beds, chairs, and chamber pots shake and rattle as if the house had been hit by an earthquake. ANTONIA My goodness! • NANNAThen eight great sighs rose all at once, straight from the liver, lungs, heart, and soul of the reverend et cetera, the sisters, and the little friars, raising so strong a wind that it would have snuffed out eight great torches. And as they sighed they .collapsed from weariness, like drunks drop to the floor from too much wine. And I who had been almost unstrung by the discomfort of watching them, adroitly withdrew and, sitting down, stared at that glass affair. ANTONIAWait a minute. How could you count eight sighs? NANNANow you're being too picky. Just listen. [21 ]

ANTONIAGo on. NANNAStaring at that glass contraption, I felt all overwrought and aflame, for what I had just seen would have excited the holy hermit of the Camaldules himself, and by dint of staring at it I was seized by temptation . . . ANTONIAAnd lib era, nos a malo. NANNANo longer being able to withstand the desires of the flesh, which were goading my nature like a wild beast, and not having the hot water the sister had told me to use if I wished to employ the glass fruit, my wits sharpened by necessity, I pissed right into the handle of the spade. ANTONIABut how ? NANNAThrough a little hole that had been put there so it could be filled with warm water. But why drag out the story? Gallantly I lifted my habit and, resting the butt end of the dagger on a box, with the point stuck between my thighs, I began slowly, gently to wear away my lust. There was a great burning and stinging under the prod of that huge roach head, so that I felt both pain and pleasure, but soon the pleasure was greater than the pain, and gradually that glass ampule came alive, and so, drenched with sweat, riding it like a true knight-errant, I shoved so hard that just a trifle more and it would have disappeared in me entirely. And as it rammed deep into me, I felt that I was dying a death sweeter than a blessed life. After holding its beak down there in the soft wetness, I felt all alather. I then drew it out, and I still had that burning sensation that bites at a man with the itch when he stops scratching his thighs, and suddenly I looked at it. It was all bloody! I was so frightened I was just about to scream: "I want to confess!" ANTONIABut why, Nanna? NANNAWhy, you ask? I thought I had mortally wounded myself. I put my hand on my pretty little mouth, brought it away wet, and when I saw that it too was scarlet, like a Bishop's gloves on a high holy day, I began to cry and tear out the few hairs that butcher who cut them off had left me when he dressed me in church. So then I began the lamentations of Rhodes. ANTONIAYou mean of Rome, where we are now. NANNAHave it your way—of Rome. And besides being af r a i d [ 22 ]

of dying when I saw the blood, I was even more afraid of the Abbess. ANTON IA And the reason? NANNAThe reason was that I was afraid she would discover the real cause of the blood and throw me into prison, bound in chains like a lewd woman. And even if she were to impose no other penance on me then telling the others the story of my blood, don't you think I had something to cry about? ANTON IA No, why? NANNAWhy not? ANTONIAWhy, all you had to do was lay the blame on the sister, whom you'd seen pretending that that glass thing was the real thing, and you would have been forgiven gratis. NANNAYes, if the sister had bloodied herself as I had. No, the truth was, Nanna was in a terrible fix, and as I sat there, I heard someone banging at the door of my cell. Carefully, I dried my eyes, stood up and replied: "Gratia plena." Then I opened the door and saw that they were calling me to dinner, I who had been gorging myself all morning not like a novice nun but like a pillager. Since I had lost my appetite due to my fright at the blood, I said I wanted to fast that evening. After bolting the door, I stood there brooding with my hand on my love-mound. When I saw that the flow of blood had stopped, I perked up a bit and, to pass the time, returned to the chink in the wall through which I saw a light glimmering, for now that night had fallen the sisters had lit a lamp. I put my eye to the crack and now I saw that they were all naked. And you can be sure that if the General and the nuns and' the friars had been old, I would have compared them to Adam and Eve and the other souls in Limbo. But let's leave comparisons to the Sybils. At this point the General got his stud, that is, the thin, lanky friar, to climb up in the middle of a square table on which the four she-Christians of the anti-Christ were eating. Instead of a trumpet the fellow held a club as trumpeters heft their instrument, and after blowing a tarantara to herald the joust, he announced: "The great Sultan of Babylon informs all valiant jousters that they must appear on the tourney field with their lances ai rest, and he who breaks the most targets will be presented with a hairless ring, with which he can divert himself the whole night through. Amen." [ 23 ]

ANTONIAWhat an excellent proclamation! His master must have written out the first draft. Continue, Nanna. NANNANow the jousters are lined up for the fray. They made a quintain out of the backside of that swarthy, squint-eyed nun who had been stuffing herself greedily with the glass cock, and then drew lots. The first tilt fell to the trumpeter. He told his companion to continue to blow as he started to run, spurring himself on with his fingers in his asshole, and then drove his lance into his darling's shield right up to the hilt. Since that one stroke was as good as three, he was roundly applauded. ANTONIAHa ha ha! NANNAAfter him came by lot the General, who ran, lance at rest, and filled the bung-hole of the novice as he had just filled the sister's. So there they were, firm and tightly fixed, like the boundaries between two fields. The third tilt fell to one of the nuns, who, not having a pine lance, picked up a glass one, and at the first crack buried it deep in the General's buttocks, while planting, for good measure, the bells in her own love-patch. ANTONIAShe must have had a big one! NANNAThen the second friar, whose turn had come, rushed forth and at the very first thrust drove his arrow straight into bull'seye. The other nun, copying her sister, plunged her two-balled lance in the backside of the young man, who, when he felt the impact, squirmed like an eel. Then came the last,woman and the last man, and there was plenty to laugh at here because she buried her glass patty-cake, on which she had dined that morning, in her sister's oven. And then the monk, who was behind them all, planted his javelin in her behind, so that they all looked like a spit of damned souls that Satanas was roasting at the fire for Lucifer's carnival. ANTONIAWhat a feast! NANNAThe cock-eyed nun was a real delight, and while all the rest of them were pumping and squirming, she got off the wittiest remarks in the world. When I heard them I laughed so loud that they surely heard me, and so I drew back. Then somebody, I don't know who, started to screech and squabble, and when I returned to my spyhole I found it covered with a sheet, so I could not see the end of the joust, nor to whom the prize was given. [ 24 ]

ANTONIAYou fail me just at the most lovely moment. NANNAI fail you because I had failed myself. And I was very displeased not to see the seed and the bean, and then the chestnuts. Now, let me tell you, while I was cursing myself for laughing, since it had lost me my seat at the sermon, I heard again . . . ANTONIAWhat did you hear? Quick, tell me! NANNAYou know, I could see three cells through the cracks in mine. ANTONIAThose walls were all filled with holes. They wouldn't have discredited a sieve. NANNAI don't think the sisters went to too much trouble to cover them, and my opinion is that they enjoyed watching each other. Anyway, I heard panting, sighing, grunting, and then a sound like rasping, which seemed to come from about ten people groaning in a dream. I listened carefully (it was right against the wall of the room, across from where they had been jousting), and I could hear whispering. I got my eye to the chink, and what do you think I saw: two fresh, plump little sisters, their legs held high in. the air, displaying two pairs of white, round thighs that looked like curdled milk they quivered so much. Each sister was working away with a glass carrot. Then one sister said to the other: "What madness this is, to think that our appetites can be satisfied by these filthy daubers. They give no kisses, nor do they have tongues or hands with which to touch the keys. When you think that we get such pleasure from ghosts, what would we get from flesh and blood? We can really call ourselves mean and paltry if we waste our youth fiddling around with these hunks of glass." "You know what, sister," replied the other, "I advise you to come with me." "Where are you going?" the first sister asked. "I wish," replied her companion, "at the end of this day, to escape from here and go to a young man in Naples. He has a friend, a blood brother, who would be perfect for you. Let's leave this hole, this tomb, and enjoy our youth as all women should enjoy it." But she didn't have to coax her friend, a frivolous creature, and to seal the agreement they flung their glass lances against the wall, covered the shattering noise by shouting: "Cats! Cats!" pretending that the beasts had broken their water pitchers and everything else that was there. Then they jumped out of bed, made a bundle of their best clothes, [ 25 ]

and left the cell. But now suddenly I heard palms smacking together, somebody wailing: "Oh, how sad I am!" a face being scratched, hair torn, and then clothes—all very strange. I swear it on my most loyal oath, I thought someone had set fire to the church's belltower. But when I brought my eye to the fissure in the bricks, I saw that all this was coming from Our Lady the Abbess, who was making the lamentations of the apostle Jeremiah. ANT ONI A The Abbess? NANNAYes, the pious mother of the nuns, the convent's protectress. ANTONIAWhat was wrong with her? NANNASo far as I could see, her confessor had murdered her. ANTONIAHow did he do it? NANNAJust when they were at the peak of their pleasure, he pulled the bung-peg out of the bung-hole and wanted to put it in the shitspout, and the poor woman, all lathered up, dying of lust, her love-mouth streaming, got down on her knees and begged him by the stigmas, by the sorrows, by the seven joys, by St. Julian's Our Father, by the three Magi, by the star, and by the santa santorum— but she could not convince that Nero, that Cain, that Judas to plant his leek in her little garden. Just the opposite. With the glower of Marforio's statue in Rome, malicious as a snake, he whacked and bullied her until she turned her back; then he made her stick her head in a small stove, and hissing like a deaf asp, his mouth frothing like an ogre's, he plunged his enormous plant deep in her refreshing ditch. ANTONIAThe scoundrel! NANNAAnd he took a delight that merited a thousand trips to the gallows in pulling it out and shoving it in, laughing all the while at something he heard as he drove his pole back and forth; in fact it sounded like the slurping pilgrims' feet make when they walk on a road of sticky clay, which often robs them of their shoes. ANTONIAHe should have been drawn and quartered! NANNAThe inconsolable woman, with her head poked in that stove, looked like the soul of a sodomite in the mouth of the devil. At last the father, moved by her prayers, permitted her to pull her [ 26 ]

head out; and without removing his key, the dirty monk bore her on his rod all the way to a stool, where he placed the poor martyr and began to twist and jiggle so boldly that the man who plays the organ in church could not have touched the stops more deftly. And then as if her body had become boneless, she bent all the way back, trying to drink her confessor's lips and eat his tongue, sticking her own so far out that it looked like a cow's, and at the same time gripped his hand between the edges of her valise, making him writhe as if she had seized it between a pair of pliers. ANTON IA I'm reborn—I'm startled! NANNAThen he loosed the flood that turns the mill wheel, and with that the holy man completed his labors. He then wiped his rope with a perfumed handkerchief, and the good woman cleaned off the honey. A moment later they embraced again, and the greedy monk said: "Does it seem right and decent to you, my pheasant, my pea-hen, my soul of souls, my heart of hearts, my life of lives, that your Narcissus, your Ganymede, your Angel could not for once make use of your hindquarters?" And she replied: "Does it seem just to you, my gosling, my swan, my falcon, consolation of consolations, pleasure of pleasures, hope of hopes, that your nymph, your handmaiden, your comedy could not for once put your natural in her nature?" Then she dove at him and gave him a bite that left her teeth's black marks on his lips and made him let out a terrible shriek. ANT ONI A What pleasures! NANNAAfter this the prudent Abbess grabbed the reliquary with her hand and, putting it in her mouth, kissed it gently. Then, falling in love with it, she munched it like a puppy nibbles your hand or leg so that you enjoy his bites and it makes you laugh and cry at the same time. In the same way, the bawdy monk at our lady's sharp, nibbling bites went wild with joy, moaning: "Ah, that's good, that's lovely!" ANTONIAThe clumsy woman! She could have taken off a piece with her teeth. NANNAWhile the good and charitable Abbess toyed with her idol, someone tapped very softly on the door of the cell. They were both surprised and wondered what to do, when they heard the faintest of whistles. They realized then that it was the confessor's novice, [ 27 ]

quickly opened the door, and in he came. Since he knew the sort of people he was dealing with, the boy did not spoil the fun; indeed, the treacherous Abbess immediately dropped the father's chaffinch and seized the son's goldfinch by its wings, for she was dying to rub the boy's bow over her lyre. "My love," she said to the monk, "will you kindly do me a favor?" And the nasty monk said: "Gladly. What do you wish?" "I wish," she says, "to grate this cheese with my grater, but on the condition that you put your harpoon in your spiritual son's drum, and if this entertainment pleases you, we can go off at gallop; if not, we'll try several other ways, because one of them must be ours." And meanwhile Fra Galasso had furled the sails over the boy's behind, and seeing this, her ladyship had stretched out on her back, flung wide her cage, popped in the nightingale, and then pulled the whole burden on top of her, to the immense delight of all concerned. And I need not tell you that she almost burst at the seams with such a huge mound on her belly, which she rolled and kneaded and tugged as cloth is fulled at the fuller's. At last she shot off her load and they their crossbows, and, the game over, I could not possibly describe all the wine they guzzled and the pastries they wolfed down. ANTONIAHow could you control your desire for a man after seeing all that fucking? NANNAI was all alather with lust after this abbatial assault, and as I was holding the glass dagger in my hand . . . ANTONIAI bet that while holding it you sniffed it, as people sniff carnations. NANNAHa ha ha! I can tell you that I was horny after all the battles I'd witnessed. I emptied the cold urine from the clapper, filled it again, and sat down. Then I shoved the bean into the pod, and I would have pushed it all the way to my asshole just to try everything, since one never knows how it travels through us. ANTONIA You did well. I mean to say, you would have done well. NANNASo, rubbing myself along its edges, I felt quite comforted at the front door, thanks to the burnisher that was polishing my bucket, and hovering, hesitating, pondering the pros and cons, I wondered whether to take in the whole argument or only a part of it; and I truly believe that I would have let the dog run into the kennel, [ 28 ]

but just at that moment I heard the confessor, fully clothed again, ask leave of the well-contented Abbess to depart together with his pupil, and I rushed to hear her prattle on parting. She cooed like a baby and, grimacing and pouting, said: "Oh, when will you return, my God whom I love, whom I adore?" The father swore by the litanies and by the advent that he would return the very next evening, and the boy, who was still buttoning up his pants, stuck his entire tongue in her mouth to say good-bye. And I heard the confessor, as he left, begin to hum the pecora campi which is said at Vespers. ANTONIAWhat! The charlatan pretended he was saying compline, eh? NANNAYou've guessed it. And as soon as they left, I heard such a thudding of feet that I realized that the jousters had also ended their day's labors and that each was bearing home the victory, pissing their horses beforehand so that it sounded like the first rainstorm in August. ANTONIAI'll be damned! NANNANow, listen, listen to this. The two sisters who had bundled up their clothes had come back to their cell. From what I could learn from their grumblings, the reason was that they had found the back door locked by order of the Abbess, after whom they sent more curses than the priests will garner on judgment day. But they got some.thing out of their tries, because as they went down the stairs, they had seen dozing there the muleteer, who two days before had entered the convent. Having designs on him, one sister said: "Go and wake him, and tell him to bring an armful of firewood to the kitchen. He'll think you're the cook and he'll come quickly. Then you can point out this cell to him and tell him to carry it in here. After the brigand is inside, leave it to your little sister to soften him up." And since these words were not addressed to someone who was either deaf or dumb, she was immediately obeyed. But just at that point I discovered another trap. ANTONIA What was it? NANNANext to the cell of the aforementioned nuns, I discovered a little room decorated gaily like the room of a courtesan, in which there were two heavenly sisters. They had set out a table very prettily, spreading over it a cloth that looked like white damask, per[ 29 ]

fuming it with lavender more pungent than the musk the muskrat makes; they had adorned it with napkins, plates, knives, and forks for three people, so neatly that I couldn't possibly describe it. They then took all sorts and varieties of flowers from a basket, with which they embroidered the table with great diligence. One of the sisters had arranged in the center a large garland of laurel leaves, strewn, where they stood out best, with white and red roses; and orange blossoms brightly studded the ribbons that bound the festoon, which unrolled the length of the table. Inside the garland, picked out in borage flowers, was written the name of the Bishop's vicar, since he had arrived that very day with his lordship, and it was more for him than for his mitred grace that the bells had been set tolling, so loud that their ding dong ding had robbed my ears of so many thousands of marvelous stories to tell you. I say that it was for the vicar that the wedding feast was being laid, and I found this out later on. Now the other nun had decorated each corner of the table with a beautiful picture: on the first she designed Solomon's knot in violet gilly flowers; on the second, the labyrinth in elder tree blossoms; on the third, a heart in the reddest of roses, pierced by a dart which was the stem of a carnation and whose bud served as an arrow point which, half opened, seemed dyed in the blood of the heart—above it she drew in bugloss blossoms eyes red from weeping, and the tears they shed were the tiny buttons of orange blossoms, which had just opened on the tips of their boughs; on the last corner she had formed two hands in mulberry blossoms, clasped together, with a fides inscribed in yellow gilly flowers. One of the nuns began to clean some glasses with the leaves of a fig tree and burnished them so brightly that they seemed changed from crystal into silver. In the meantime her companion, having flung a fine linen cloth over a small shelf, set the glasses by size on this sideboard and placed in the center a pitcher of orange water shaped like a pear, from which hung a soft lawn towel, which hung down as the strings of a Bishop's mitre trail over his temples. This she kept for wiping the hands. At the foot of the sideboard stood a copper basin, which had been so carefully scrubbed with sand, vinegar, and the force of the hand that you could see yourself in it. Brimming with fresh, cool water, it contained two smooth glass phials which seemed to hold neither red nor white wine but distilled rubies and topaz. And [ 30 ]

when all this was set out and adorned, one of the nuns took a loaf out of the chest (a loaf that looked like pressed cotton wadding) and handed it to the other, who set it in its place. Then they rested for a while. ANTONIAActually, the diligence they'd brought to adorning that table could only be the work of nuns, who have plenty of time on their hands. NANNASo there they sat, and when the bell-tower struck three, the more reckless nun cried: "This vicar takes longer than a Christmas Mass!" and the other replied: "No wonder he's late, because the Bishop, who wants to hold a confirmation tomorrow, must have put him to work on something." Then they chatted about a thousand trifles so that waiting would not vex them, and the hour sped by in a flash, and then both of them began to talk about the vicar as Messer Pasquino talks about the priests: lout, pig, and scoundrel were some of the names he got on his birthday. Then one nun ran to the fire where two capons were being boiled, capons so fat in the cheeks that they could no longer budge, and over which stood guard a spit bent in the middle by the weight of a peacock which they themselves had raised. And she would have thrown them out of the window, but her companion stopped her. In the midst of this tussle, the muleteer, who had to unload the wood in the cell of that other little nun, the one to whom her little sister in God had proffered such good advice, went to the wrong door despite the fact that when the faggots were piled on his shoulder it had been carefully pointed out to him. Entering the cell where the vicar was expected, the donkey dropped his load of wood, and at the noise the two little nuns in the nearby cell went into a rage, scratching their faces and lacerating their bodies. ANTONIAAnd what did the nuns say when that stud blundered in? NANNAWhat would you have said? ANTONIAI would have clutched my good fortune by the forelock. NANNAWhich is just what they did. Delighted at the unexpected but fortunate appearance of the muleteer*, as pigeons are delighted by corn, they gave him a king's welcome, and barring the door to make sure the fox didn't wriggle out of the trap, they sat him [ 31 ]

down between them, cleaning and polishing him with a towel straight from the wash. The muleteer was about twenty, beardless, plump, with a forehead like the butt-end of a bushel, two abbot-like thighs, tall and burly, with a white skin, a feckless air—a real party cock, almost too good to be true. He chittered like a monkey when he saw himself seated before that spread of capon and peacock, and he stowed away huge mouthfuls and swigged wine like a peasant at harvest time. And the two nuns, feeling that a thousand years would pass before they had their ruffs currycombed by his clapper, sneered at the food, as someone who is not hungry sneers. Then the greediest nun, losing her patience like the man who turns hermit loses his, lunged for his flute as the vulture swoops down on a chick. The muleteer would rather have feasted like a coachman, but no sooner was he touched than out came a halberd handle that would have put the famous bully Bevilacqua to shame, and it looked exactly like the trumpet the fellow at Castel Sant'Angelo flourishes before he blows on it. While one nun gripped his staff in her hands, the other pushed aside the table; then her sister put the darling poppet between her legs, letting herself drop with her full weight on the muleteer's clarinet. He remained seated, and as she was shoving with the discretion of the crowd that stampedes across the bridge after the Pope has given his blessing, the chair fell with the muleteer and her on top of him. They took an apelike tumble, and the key having slipped out of the lock, the other sister, who was slavering like an old mule, afraid that the poppet, having nothing on its head, might catch a cold, covered it with her most gracious orifice so that her companion, enraged at being unpegged and robbed of the key, went berserk, seized her by the throat, and made her vomit up the little she had eaten. Then the other nun turned on her, not even trying to finish her course, and they both beat each other more black and blue than the blessed Apostle Paul. ANTONIAHa ha ha! NANNAJust as the big ladle stood up to stop the brawl, I felt hands rest on my shoulders and heard someone saying very softly: "Good night, my dear little soul." It made me shiver with fright to the marrow, especially since watching the daring deeds of those two horny trollops (I don't mince words) left no room for other thoughts. [ 32 ]

So, feeling the hand on my back, I turned and said: "My God, who is it?" I was just about to open my mouth and scream for help when I saw that it was the Bachelor, who had left me so abruptly to go to the Bishop, and I felt better immediately. Nevertheless, I cried: "Father, I'm not one of those girls, the sort you think . . . Get back there . . . I don't want to ... Come, now, I'm going to scream—I'd rather let them slit my veins open! Oh, God, protect me ... I'll never do it, no, never! I tell you, you'll be ashamed . . . A fine thing . . . All right, they'll hear about i t . . ." Meanwhile he kept saying to me: "How is it possible for so much cruelty to dwell in a little cherub, a throne, a seraph ? I am your slave, I adore you, for you alone are my altar, my Vespers, my Compline, my Mass. And if you want me to die, here is the knife, plunge it in my chest. You shall see that in my heart your sweet name is written in letters of gold." So saying, he tried to put in my hand a beautiful dagger with a silver gilt haft, its blade worked halfway in damask. I did not want to take it, and without replying I kept my face turned to the floor. Then, with those shrill bursts and cries a chorus lets loose when singing the Easter passion, he pestered me so well that I let him win me over. ANTONIAThose who let themselves be persuaded to kill or poison men behave much worse. You accomplished a more pious work than the pawnshop does in helping the poor, and every respectable woman should take you for a model. Go on. NANNAWon over by his monkish preamble, in which he told me greater lies than a laggard clock, I let him get on me and shove it inside me with a Laudamus Te, as if he were blessing the palms on Palm Sunday. His chants bewitched me so much that I let him go ... After all, what should I have done, Antonia? ANTONIA Nothing else, Nanna. NANNAI mean the back way—and would you believe it? ANTONIAWhat? NANNAIt seemed to me that that flesh one was less crude and rough than the glass one. ANTONIAA great secret! NANNAYes, I swear it by this cross! ANTONIA Why do you have to swear, when I believe and superbelieve you? [ 33 ]

NANNAI pissed, but without pissing—

ANTONIAHa! NANNA—a sort of white sticky stuff, like the slime of a snail. Now he did it to me three times, reverently speaking, twice in the old way and once in the modern—and this last custom, whoever it was that invented it, did not please me one bit. I swear, it did not please me. ANTONIAYou're wrong. NANNAWe'd be in a fine fix if I was wrong; and whoever discovered it must have been pretty listless, nor could he have the least zest for it, but rather for—now don't make me say it. ANTONIAAnd don't take that name in vain, because it's a choice tidbit that people fight for more than lamprey. It's a dish for gourmets. NANNAThey can have it. Now back to our business: after the Bachelor had planted his banner twice in my fortress and once in rny ravelin, he asked me if I had dined. I could tell from his breath that he was crammed as full as the Jew's goose, so I told him I had. Then he made me sit on his lap, put one arm around my neck, and with the other hand fondled now my cheeks, now my tits, mixing his caresses with great tasty kisses, so that I was inwardly blessing the hour and minute I had become a nun and thinking that the sisters lived in a true paradise. But suddenly the Bachelor had a whim and wondered whether to take me on a tour of the convent, and said: "After all, we can sleep during the day." I, who had seen so many miracles in those four cells, felt it would take a hundred years before I saw the rest in the others. So he took off his shoes and I removed my slippers, and holding his hand, I followed after him, tiptoeing as if walking on eggshells. ANTONIAGo back a moment.

NANNA

Why?

ANTONIABecause you've forgotten those two nuns who were left high and dry because of fhe muleteer's blunder. NANNAOh, that's right—I must have forgotten my brain at the dyer's. The unfortunate creatures let out their rage on the knobs of the andirons. After pushing them inside them, they began prancing around them like criminals on a Turk's sta'ke, and if one of them, who [ 34 ]

finished her dance earlier, hadn't helped her little companion, the knob would have come straight out of her mouth. ANT ONI A Oh, she really had a big one! NANNASo I was following my paramour as quiet as oil, and lo and behold! we see the cook's small cell, whose door that nitwit had left ajar, and glancing in we see her playing like a bitch in heat •with a certain pilgrim, who had begged her (I assume) for alms to visit St. James of Galicia and she had taken in. His long cloak was folded and set on a box; his staff, from which hung a screed of miracles, was propped against the wall; his wallet, crammed with crusts, had become a plaything for the cat, which the jolly lovers, so well occupied, did not notice; nor did they see the cask that had turned upside-down and was spilling out all its wine. We did not deign to waste time watching such sloppy lovemaking, but went straight to the cracks in the door of Our Lady the Cellarist Nun, who, having lost all hopes of seeing her rector arrive, had gone into such a fury that she had tied a rope to a beam, climbed on a stool, looped the rope around her neck, and was preparing to kick her support from under her. She had already opened her mouth to cry to the rector: "I forgive you!" when he came to the door and pushed through it. When he saw her trying to end her life, he leaped and clasped her in his arms, saying: "What's going on here? So you consider me, my dear, a betrayer ? And where is the goddess of your prudence ? Yes, where is she?" At these tender words she raised her head, like a person in a faint when cold water is dashed in his face, and returned to life before the flames of a fire. The rector flung the rope and stool aside, and laid the Cellarist on the bed. After she had given him a long, slow kiss, she said: "My prayers have been answered, and I want you to set me in wax before the image of St. Gimignano with words that read: 'She commended her soul to God and was delivered.' " Having said this, she hung the piteous rector on the grapple of her gallowstree, and he, disgusted with the first mouthful of she-goat, asked for kid. ANTON1A Oh, I meant to tell you and then I forgot: Speak plainly and say "fuck," "prick," "cunt," and "ass" if you want anyone except the scholars at the university in Rome to understand you. You with your "rope in the ring," your "obelisk in the Colosseum," [ 35 ]

your "leek in the garden," your "key in the lock," your "bolt in the door," your "pestel in the mortar," your "nightingale in the nest," your "tree in the ditch," your "syringe in the flap-valve," your "sword in the scabbard," not to mention your "stake," your "crozier," your "parsnip," your "little monkey," your "this," your "that," your "him" and your "her," your "apples," "leaves of the missal," "fact," "verbigratia," "job," "affair," "big news," "handle," "arrow," "carrot," "root," and all shit there is—why don't you say it straight out and stop going about on tiptoes? Why don't you say yes when you mean yes and no when you mean no—or else keep it to yourself ? NANNADon't you know that respectability looks all the more beautiful in a whorehouse? ANTONIAGo ahead, speak as you wish, and don't get sore at me. NANNAWell, I will then inform you that, having tasted some kid and having thrust into it the knife proper to that meat, the rector was as happy as a fool, watching the blade go in and out; and by dint of pushing it in and pulling it out he enjoyed the same bliss a baker's boy does shoving his fist in and out of a mound of dough. In short, this merry rector, putting the stiffness of his poppystalk to the test, bore the little serpent on it all the way to bed, and stamping the seal into the wax with all his might, made her roll from the head of the bed to the foot, then back to the head, then to the foot, and so on and on. Now it was the sister who was bearing down on the rector's contraption, and now it was the rector who was pressing into the sister's aperture. And they kept crying: "Now do it to me!" "Now I'll do it to you.!" and they rolled so much that the floodtide finally came, filling the plain of the sheets, and they fell apart, she to one side, he to the other, gasping like bellows which, set aside by those who were working them, hiss out their wind as they stop. We couldn't keep from laughing when, the key having been removed from the lock, the venerable priest proclaimed it by such a fearful fart (may your nose never smell it) that the whole monastery rumbled, and if we hadn't clapped our hands over each other's mouths, we would surely have been discovered. ANTONIAHa ha ha! It's enough to make you break your jawbones! [ 36 ]

NANNAAnd as we left the little gossip, who was actually minding her own business for a change, we saw the mistress of the novices dragging a porter, who was dirtier than a pile of rags, from under a bed. And she was saying to him: "Come out, my Trojan Hector. Here I am, your servant, and forgive me for the trouble I've put you to by hiding you, but I had to do it." The rascal, lifting up his tatters, answered her with a shake of his member, and she, not having an interpreter to decipher this code, set about understanding it as her fancy bid. The yokel thrust his pruning hook into her bush so that she saw a thousand whirling lights, and set his wolf's fangs on her lips so neatly and sweetly, so tenderly, that he made her weep by the bucket. Then, to avoid seeing so sweet a strawberry in a bear's maw, we went elsewhere. ANT ONI A Where did you go? NANNATo a slit in the wall that showed us a sister who resembled the Mother of Discipline, the Aunt of the Bible, and the Stepmother of the Old Testament. I could scarcely bear to look at her. She had about twenty hairs on her head like the hairs of a brush, was full of nits and lice, her forehead was creased by about a hundred wrinkles, and thick, graying eyebrows over eyes that oozed some yellow pus. ANTONIAYou must have sharp eyes, if you could see nits from so far away. NANNANow just listen to me. Her mouth and nose were full of froth and snot, and her jawbone looked like a lousy fellow's bonecomb with two lone teeth in it; her lips were withered and sunken, and her chin was as sharp as a Genovese's skull, and as an adornment a few long hairs straggled down, like those of a lioness, but as prickly, I believe, as thorns. Her breasts dangled like a man's bags, but without the seeds inside; they seemed to be fastened to her chest by two strings. Her belly—God have mercy on us!—was all shrunken and shriveled, while her navel stuck out. The truth is, all round her pissing hole she had a wreath of cabbage leaves that looked as though they had sat for a month on some scurfy man's head. ANTONIAAnd yet St. Nofrio wore about his shame a tavern sign covered with wreaths. NANNASo much the better. Her thighs were spindles covered [ 37 ]

with parchment, and her knees shook so much that she always seemed about to fall. You can imagine what her calves, arms, and feet were like, though let me tell you that her fingernails were as long as the one Roffiano wore on his little finger so he could defend himself, but hers were clogged wi£h filth. Now she bent down to the floor and with a stick of charcoal drew stars, moons, squares, rings, letters, and a thousand other fables, and as she did so, she summoned the demons by names that the devils themselves couldn't remember. Then, spinning three times around the drawn figures, she stood up stiff, her eyes staring up to heaven, muttering all the while. After this she brought out a figure made in new wax in which a hundred pins were stuck (if you've ever seen a mandrake, then you know what it looked like) and put it beside the fire so it could feel it, turning it as they do ortolans and garden warblers so that they are cooked without being burnt, and chanted: Oh, fire, my fire, kill for me That cruel man who would flee me.

Then, turning with more fury than people fling bread at a poor house, she added: Oh, my great itch and burning, Brings my God of love arunning!

Then the wax figure began to get very hot, and she said, with her eyes fixed on the floor: Oh Devil, my joy, bring him Or else I die without him!

At the close of these incantations, lo and behold! someone was knocking at her door, breathless and panting like a man who, after stealing something in the kitchen, has trusted to his legs to save his back from a beating. So she quickly hid her enchantments and opened the door. ANTON1A Naked like that? NANNANaked like that. The poor man, prodded, impelled by [ 38 ]

black magic as hunger is by famine, threw his arms' about her neck, kissed her lips no less zestfully than if she were the two great courtesans Rosa and Arcolana, and sang the praises of her beauty like those who write sonnets to the lovely Lorenzina. The accursed witch squirmed all over, chortled, and cried: "Should these limbs sleep alone?" ANTON IA Oh, how disgusting! NANNAI'll not turn your stomach any further with this old witch. That's all I know about her, because I didn't want to see any more. When the bewitched layman, a young lad with his first sprout of hair, plopped her on a stool, I did the same as Masino's kitty, which shut its eyes so that it wouldn't see the mice. But now for the rest. After the old hag, we went to see the seamstress, who was grappling with her master the tailor. She had stripped him bare and was kissing his mouth, nipples, rod, and drum, just like a wet nurse kisses the baby she is suckling'on its pretty little face, its tiny mouth, its cute little hands, its sweet little belly, its darling little pin, and its lovely little ass, which it seemed she wanted to suck as the baby sucked the tit. Of course we wanted to adjust our eyes to the slits to see the tailor tear the hem from the seamstress' gown, but all of a sudden we heard a cry, then after the cry a shriek, and after the shriek a groan, and when the groan ended a loud "Oh, my God!" that struck us to the heart. And scampering to the spot whence these cries came, cries so loud they covered the noise of our footsteps, we saw a nun who had half a baby pushing out of her deposit, pissing out headfirst, to the tune of many a perfumed fart. And when it was seen that the baby was a boy, the father, the Priest-Guardian, was summoned. He came accompanied by two middle-aged sisters, and on his arrival all sorts of patrician pastimes were trotted out. "Since there are pen, paper, and ink on this table," says the Guardian, "I shall draw up the baby's horoscope." And after pricking the paper with a million dots and connecting them all with a cross-hatch of lines, he muttered some gibberish about the house of Venus and Mars, turned to the party, and said: "You should know, my sisters, that my natural, carnal, and spiritual son will be a Messiah, an Anti-Christ or Melchisedech." Wishing to see the crack through which the infant had come, the

[ 39 ]

Bachelor tugged at my habit; but I let him know by a sign of my head that I didn't want to see any more stuffings, save those from a gutted pig. ANTONIAGo right ahead, become a nun, go. NANNANow listen to this. Six days before I had arrived in this convent, some brothers had imprisoned in it a girl who I won't say was a virgin, far from it, but the sort of flesh that only the good God can describe. And to guard her from one of the local lords, who loved her, so they told me, the Abbess kept her in a room all by herself, and every night she locked her up and bore away the key. The young lover, seeing that the room's barred window looked out on the garden, climbed up the wall under this window, digging into it with his nails like a woodpecker; then, as well as he could, he gave his pecker to the goose. On this very night I am telling you about, he had come to her, and both of them clinging to the grate, he watered his dog in the cup which she held out to him, crooking his arms around the treacherous bars. But just as the honey was rilling the honeycomb, it turned as bitter as a dose of medicine. ANTONIAHow's that? NANNAThe unlucky fellow had such a fit when he cried: "Come, because I'm coming!" that his arms came loose and he tumbled from the balcony to a roof, from the roof to a henhouse, from the henhouse to the ground, and broke his thigh. ANTONIAOh, that witch of an Abbess should have broken both of them, since she wanted the girl to be chaste in a brothel! NANNAShe did it out of fear of the brothers, who had sworn that they would roast her alive, together with the whole convent, if they heard the slightest whisper of scandal. But to get back to my story: the young man, who had had to work like a dog, woke up everybody with his screams, and they all ran to the windows, pulled up the blinds, and saw in the moonlight the ruined and fractured wretch. The sisters routed two laymen out of their postiche wives' beds and sent them to the garden, where they lifted him up in their arms and carried him away. And I don't need to tell you what a scandal this caused in the town. After this commotion we headed for our cell, fearful that the morning might catch us spying on the deeds of the others. On our way we caught sight of a monk, a robust prankster

[ 40 ]

as glib as grease, who was telling a story to a host of sisters, priests, and laymen who had been rolling dice and playing cards all night. When they had swilled their guts full, they began to chat and gossip, begging the friar to tell them a story. "I'll tell you a story," he cried. "A story that begins in laughter and ends in tears, and it's all about a stud of a dog." The people fell silent and he began: "Two days ago, while walking through the piazza, I stopped to look at a little bitch in heat, who had about two dozen lapdogs on her heels, attracted by the smell of her vulva, which was all swollen and so red it looked like burning coral. All of the dogs were sniffing her, now one dog, now another, and this game had collected a large crowd of kids, watching one dog mount her and give her a few pokes and then another dog do likewise. Confronted by this amusement, I put on my frowning monk's face, when all of a sudden there appeared a huge country mastiff that looked like the watchdog in all the slaughterhouses of the world. He seized one of the dogs and flung him angrily to the ground, then, leaving him, grabbed another and almost ripped his pelt off. The rest of the dogs ran off in all directions, and then the mongrel, arching his back like a bow, his hair bristling like a boar's, his eyes squinting, his teeth grinding, growling with a mouthful of foam, went after the poor little bitch. After sniffing her lovely little button for a while, he gave her two pokes that started her howling like a big bitch, but then, slipping out from under him, she began to run. The other little mutts, who'd been standing guard, began to trot after her. The big mastiff, very angry, chased after her too. She spotted a hole under a closed door and immediately jumped inside, with the lapdogs after her. The nasty brute remained outside, for he was so huge and misshapen that he couldn't squeeze like the others through the opening. So there he was, biting the door, scratching the ground, roaring like a lion with a fever. He was there some time when one of the mutts came out. The treacherous mastiff was on him in a flash and tore off an ear. Then, when a second dog came, he gave him even worse. So gradually, he punished all of them, clearing the town as peasants clear out when the soldiers come. In the end the bride herself tripped out, and he seized her by the throat, drove his fangs into her windpipe, and strangled her, then chased the brats and also the people who'd gathered for the canine carnival, making

[41 ]

them shout to high heaven as they ran." After this tale, not caring to see or hear anything else, we went to our room and, after doing a good mile's march in bed, fell asleep. ANTONIAaMay Boccaccio forgive me, but now he can go intoss retirement. NANNAsThat's not my opinion. But I do think that he shouldaaa at least admit that my things are alive and breathing, whereas his are painted. But wasn't there something else I had to tell you?

ANTONIAsWhat?fff NANNAsAnyway, I rose at noon feeling, God knows why, thataaa the cock of my parish had slipped away early. Then I went to dine and I couldn't restrain my grins on seeing those who all night had been on a journey to Capharnaum. Since I soon became intimate with all of them, it became clear that just as I saw them, the others had seen me when I was dallying with the Bachelor. Dinner over, a Lutheran friar climbed up on the pulpit. He had a voice like a night watchman, so sharp and thunderous that it could have been heard from the Campidoglio to Testaccio. He gave the sisters an exhortation that would have converted the Star of Diana. ANTONIAaWhat did he say?aa NANNAaHe said that nothing was more hateful to nature thanaa seeing people waste their time, because she has given us time so that we may spend it in satisfaction and pleasure, and she delights in seeing her creatures increase and multiply and above all is happy when she sees a woman who, in her old age, can say: "On your way world, I've had my fun." And more than all the other women, nature regards the little nuns as her most precious jewels, for they feed such sugary morsels to the Cupid-God. Hence the pleasures she bestows on them are a thousand times sweeter than those she gives to worldly women. He affirmed in a loud voice that the sons who are produced by nuns and monks are the sons of the Dixit and the Verbum Caro. At this point, having broached the question of love, which he covered all the way to the flies and the ants, he vehemently announced that every word that issued from his mouth came straight from the mouth of truth itself. Idlers don't listen more attentively to a street singer than those good nuns listened to that chatterbox. And having given them his blessing with one of those glass devices (you get the picture?), he [ 42 ]

descended from the altar. Then to refresh himself he lapped up wine as a horse laps up water, and devoured the pastries with the voracity with which a donkey gobbles the tendrils on a vine. He was presented with more gifts than relatives give a priest who has said his first mass, or more exactly, than a mother gives a daughter who is getting married. Then I went back to my cell, and I wasn't there for long before I heard a rap at my door. I opened it, and there stood the Bachelor's choirboy, who with a courtly bow offered me a small package and a letter folded in such a way that it formed one of those three-cornered feathered arrows, or to put it more finely, those grooved crescents that fit on the heads of arrows. The superscription said—I'm not sure I remember the words . . . Wait, yes, yes, now I've got them. This is how it went: These few simple words of mine, Dried with my sighs, inscribed with my tears, May they be set by the Sun's hands in the Divine!

ANTON IA Oh good, marvelous! NANNAaInside there was a long, long rodomontade. It beganaa with my hair, which had been shorn in church, and said that he had collected it and made a necklace of it. Next, how my brow was brighter than the heavens, while he compared my eyebrows to the black wood from which combs are made and declared that my cheeks filled milk and cream with envy. My teeth he likened to a row of pearls, my lips to pomegranate blossoms. He composed a grand preamble to my hands, even going so far as to praise my fingernails. My voice was like the canticle "Gloria in Excelsis," and when he got to my bosom he burst into raptures, saying that it displayed two brightwhite apples, fresh as the snow. At the end he let himself slip down to the fountain, proclaiming that all unworthily he had drunk at it, that it distilled a health-giving syrup and manna, and that its ruff of hair was woven from the purest silk. He kept silent about the other side of the medal, offering as his excuse that it would take the poet Burchiello, who would have to be resurrected, to sing of even the smallest particle of its wonders. He closed by thanking me per infinita saecula for the liberality with which I had let him use my treasures, [ 43 ]

and swore that he would soon visit me, and after an "Adieu, my darling, my dear little heart," signed it with this: He who on your pretty breasts comes to life, Driven by so great a love must tell his strife.

ANTONIAaWho wouldn't have lifted her skirts to so lovely aaa song? NANNAaAfter I had read the letter I folded the paper andaa kissed it before putting it between my breasts; then, removing the cover from the package, I saw that my lover had sent me a very pretty prayer book. At least that's what I thought it was. It was bound in green velvet, which signifies love, and trailed long green silk ribands. And I picked it up with a smile and gazed at it fondly, kissing it all over and praising it as the most beautiful prayer book I had ever seen. I dismissed the messenger, telling him to kiss his master for me. When I was alone, I opened the little book to read the Magnificat,aand thena I saw that it was crammed with pictures of people amusing themselve in the modes and postures performed by the learned nuns. I burst into such loud laughter at seeing one woman shoving her most precious parts through the bottom of a bottomless basket that hung at the end of a rope and dropped full on the head of an enormous rod, that a sister came running. She was more intimate with me than any of the others, and when she asked me: "Why are you laughing?" without hesitating I told her all about it and showed her the book, and we perused it with such delight that we were seized by a great desire to try the painted positions, which meant we had to resort to the glass handle. My girl friend fitted it so neatly between her thighs that it looked just like a man's weapon pointed stiffly at his temptation. So I flung myself down on my back, like one of those women on the Santa Maria bridge, and put my legs on her shoulders, and she poking it now in the good way, now in the bad, soon made me do what I had to do; then she in turn, lying down as I had, gave me a pudding in exchange for my cake. ANTONIAaDo you know, Nanna, what happens to me whenaa I hear you talk ?

NANNAakkkNo [ 44 ]

ANTONIAaWhat happens to someone who smells a purge and,aa without even taking it, goes twice or three times to move her bowels.

NANNAaaaaaa ANTONIAaYes, I tell you, your stories are so natural and vividaa that you make me piss, though I have eaten neither truffles nor cardoon. NANNAaYou scolded me for speaking in riddles, and now youaa use the language people adopt when they tell tales to children and say: "I have a certain thing which is white as a goose, but it isn't a goose. Now tell me what it is?" ANTONIAaI talk like this to please you; that's why I resort toaa obscurity. NANNAaI thank you. Well, let's get on with the antiphon.aa After the tricks we played on each other, we felt like parading at the grating and the turnbox, but we couldn't get to it because all the sisters had come running like lizards when the sun shines and the church looked like the basilicas of St. Peter and St. Paul on the day of the stations, and even monks and soldiers were being entertained and, believe me or not, I saw the Jew Jacob who, with great assurance, was parleying with the Abbess. ANTONIAaAh, this is a corrupt world.aa NANNAaThat is true, and whoever wants it can have it. I alsoaa saw one of those unlucky Turks who had let himself be caught in the net in Hungary. ANTONIAaHe should have become a Christian.aa NANNAaIt was enough that I saw him—I can't tell whether itaa was with the baptism or without it. But I've been a fool to promise to tell you the life of the nuns in a single day, for what they manage to do in an hour would take me a year to relate. The sun is getting ready to set; so I, cutting things short, will behave like the horseman who, although very hungry, is eager to gallop away: he gulps down four mouthfuls, takes a swig, and off he goes. ANTONIAasJust let me say this. You told me at the start thata this world is no longer what it was in your day. I thought that you were going to tell stories of the nuns of those past times as they are told in the book of the Holy Fathers. NANNAaI was mistaken if I said anything like that. I meantaa

[ 45 ]

perhaps to say that the nuns are no longer what they were in the old days. ANTONIAaSo it was your tongue that erred, not your heart.aa NANNAaAs you wish, I no longer remember what I said. Listenaa to this, which is much more important. I should tell you that, the devil having tempted me, I let the saddle be girthed on me by a certain monk who had just come from the university, but I kept an eye out for the Bachelor. As luck would have it, the monk often took me to dinner outside the convent, not knowing I was wedded to the Bachelor. He dropped in unexpectedly one evening after the Ave Maria and said: "My darling angel, do me the favor of coming away with me immediately, because I want to take you to a place where you'll enjoy yourself greatly. You'll not only listen to angelic music but will also see a very pretty comedy acted out." And I, who always yielded to my whims, undressed without a moment's delay. He helped me remove my holy clothes and put on perfumed garb, that is, boy's clothes, which my first lover had had made for me. On my head I set a green silk cap with a pink plume and a gold buckle; then, wearing a cloak, I left with him. After walking but a stone's throw, he turned up a long alleyway, half a pace wide and with a dead end. He whistled very softly, and right away we heard someone coming down the stairway. The door opened just where we are standing, and a page appeared carrying a white taper. He lit our way up the stairs, and we came to a very ornate salon, me holding my student by the hand. The page lifted the room's drapes, saying: "Enter, your worships." No sooner did we enter than we saw all the people get to their feet, caps in hand, as the congregation does when the preacher pronounces the benediction. The place was a refuge for all the religious couples, and to it flocked all sorts of nuns and monks as all sorts of witches and warlocks gather under the walnut tree at Benevento. When everyone had sat down again, we could hear nothing but people whispering about my pretty face—it may not be very nice for me to say it, but you know, Antonia, it was very pretty. ANTONIAa1 can believe it. You're a handsome old woman, soaa you must have been a lovely young girl. NANNAaWhile I was being so greatly complimented, the greataa virtue of music arrived, music which went to the core of my soul. [ 46 ]

There were four singers, who were looking in a book, and another fellow with a silver lute, which was tuned to their voices. They sang: "Divine eyes, so calm, so pure . . ." After this came a woman from Ferrara who danced so gracefully that everyone marveled at it. She cut such capers and somersaults that a young goat wouldn't have been able to manage them, and with such skill and adeptness, I swear, such grace, that you, Antonia, wouldn't have wanted to see anything else. How amazing it was to see her with her left leg crooked up like a crane's and her whole body, poised on her right leg, spinning around like a top so that her petticoat, swelled out by the rapid gyrations, stretched in a graceful ring, and you could no more see it than a weathervane on a hut propelled by the gusts of a gale or, more precisely, those paper pinwheels that children set on the end of a stick and, holding out their arms, start running, and are amused to see them twirl so fast that they can barely be seen. ANTONIAaGod bless her!aa NANNAaHa ha ha; I'm laughing at another fellow, whom theyaa called "the son of Giampolo," a Venetian I'd say, who, getting behind a door, imitated a whole throng of voices. First he did a porter, so well and truly that there wasn't a single man from Bergamo who wouldn't have admitted that he had been fooled by it. The porter asked an old woman for the lady of the house, and then, imitating the voice of the old woman, he said: "And what do you want with the lady of the house?" He answered: "I'd like to talk with her," and then in a pained tone: "Lady, oh Lady, I'm dying. I feel my lungs boiling, like a pan full of tripe," and he began wailing to the old woman the sweetest nonsense imaginable. Then he began touching her all over, accompanying this with words calculated to make her transgress Lent and break her fast. As all this palaver was going on, along came her senile old husband who, when he saw the porter, kicked up an awful fuss, shouting so much you'd have thought he was a peasant who saw his cherry tree being plundered. The porter said to him: "Messer, oh, Messer. Ha ha ha!" laughing and gesticulating like a halfwit. "Go with God!" cried the old man. "Drunkard, fool!" Then, getting the maidservant to pull off his boots, he told his wife some tale about the king of Persia and the Turk, and he made all of us piss from laughing when, taking off the belts he had tied around [ 47 ]

him, he swore never to eat farty foods again. Then he let them tuck him in and fell asleep and snored. The aforesaid fellow then returned disguised as the porter and laughed and cried so much with the lady of the house that he ended up rumpling her love-ruff. ANT ONI A Ha ha ha! NANNAaaYou really would have laughed, hearing the noisea made by their collision, combined with all the porter's sly remarks, which went all too well with those moaned out by Lady-Do-It-to-Me. The musical vespers over, we returned to the room where an alcove had been prepared for those who were to act in the comedy. The curtain was just about to be rung when someone started banging on the door. Indeed, we were talking so loudly in there that it wouldn't have been heard if the door had been tapped softly. The curtain was let fall, the door was opened, and there stood the Bachelor; for it was he who, coming along by chance, had knocked at the door, unaware that I was betraying him. He strode in, saw me making love to the student, and driven by that damned hammering passion that blinds them all, he lunged at me with the same fury that drove the mastiff to kill the bitch (as the monk's tale recounted), grabbed me by the hair and dragged me through the room and down the stairs, ignoring the supplications everyone made on my behalf, except for the student who, as soon as he saw the Bachelor, vanished like the flash of a firecracker. He drove me back to the convent, beating me all the way, and in the presence of the sisters gave me a flogging, using that discretion monks display when punishing one of their inferiors who has been caught spitting in.church. The flogging, which he administered .with the thongs of the lectern, stripped half a foot of skin off my buttocks, but what hurt me most of all was that the Abbess sided with the Bachelor. After eight days of soothing my wounds with oil and bathing them in rose water, I sent word to my mother that if she wanted to see me alive she should come and get me immediately. She found me so changed, almost unrecognizable, and thinking that I had been broken by fasting, abstinence, and early morning masses, she insisted by all means that I should come home at once. Nor did all the pleas of the sisters and monks succeed in making me stay there a single day longer. At home my father, who feared my mother more than you-know-who, [ 48 ]

wanted to run immediately for a doctor, but she wouldn't let him go because she didn't want to start any gossip. And since I couldn't hide the wounds on my bottom, where the whip had struck me as the boys' whips, on the eve of Holy Week, strike the altar steps and the church doors after the office, I told them that in order to mortify my flesh I had sat on the carding tool, and that was how it had happened. My mother sneered at this lame excuse because the prongs would have pierced me to the heart, not just the ass (keep yours always healthy and happy), but she thought it best to hold her tongue. ANTONIAaI'm beginning to think that it might be quite trueaa that when it comes to making Pippa a nun, you might have some trouble. Now I remember that my mother, bless her soul, used to say that a certain nun in a convent pretended every day that she had all sorts of illnesses so the doctor would come and put the urinal under her skirts. NANNAaI know quite well who she was, and I omitted heraa story for the sake of brevity. And now that I've kept you here all day with my gossip, I wanj: you to come to my house this evening. ANTONIAaaWhatever you wish.a NANNAaYou can help me with some trifles, and then tomor-aa row, after we eat, in this very vineyard, beneath this fig tree, we'll start the story of the life of the married women. ANTONIAaI am here, at your service.aa And so saying, without burdening themselves with anything from the vineyard, they set out for N anna's house on Via della Scroja, which they reached at dusk. Pippa lavished many caresses on Antonia. The supper hour came, and they ate, sat around for a while, and then went to bed. And so ends the first day.

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2 THE SECOND DAY OF ARETINO'S CAPRICIOUS CONVERSATIONS,

IN WHICH NANNA TELLS

ANTONIA THE LIFE OF WIVES.

Nanna and Antonia got out of bed just as Tithonus, the silly cuckold, was trying to hide his Lady Aurora's petticoat so that the pimp Day should not hand her over to the Sun, her paramour; but she, getting wind of what was up, tore it out of the old fool's hands, left him to croak and complain, and went off more powdered and painted than ever, determined to be screwed at least twelve times just to spite him, and to have the deed witnessed by Messer Clockface, the public notary. When they had dressed and before the bells tolled, Antonia did all those chores that gave Nanna more trouble than St. Peter took over his shack. Then, after stuffing their bellies as a lodger does at his own sweet will, they returned to the vineyard and sat down in the same place they had the day before, under the fig tree; and since the hour had come when one chases the heat with the fan of chitchat, Antonia spread her palms on her kneecaps, stuck her face right into Nanna's, and said: "Now I am really clear about the nuns, and after my first catnap I wasn't able to shut an eye, just thinking of those crazy mothers and foolish fathers who believe that their daughters who become nuns do not have teeth to bite with, like the girls who get married; but I do pity them! They ought to know that these girls are also made of flesh and bone and that nothing whets desire so much as forbidding it. As for myself, I know that I die of thirst when I do not have any wine in the house. What's more, one shouldn't scorn [ 51 ]

the proverbs, and one must believe the proverb which says that nuns are the monks' wives, in fact the wives of all the people, I didn't think of that saying yesterday, or I wouldn't have put you to the trouble I did when I made you tell me all about their goings-on." NANNAaIt's all for the best.aa ANTONIAaEver since I awoke and as I waited for day to break,aa I twisted and turned like one of those gamblers of yours when a card or die falls off the table, or a candle blows out, and he gets burning mad until it's picked up or the candle's lit again. I thank goodness that I came to your vineyard, which is always as open as your generosity, and even more I thank myself for having asked what was bothering you,'which I happened to do, and for the kindness with which you answered me as you did. And now I'm happy you did. But tell me, after you got that damned beating which made you loathe love and the nunnery, what did your mother do? NANNAdShe bruited it about that she wanted to marry me off,dd concocting now one story or another to explain why I had been denunned, giving many people to understand that the monastery was filled with as many devils as there are honeycakes in Siena. And when all these tales came to the ears of a certain old man who was living because he was eating, he resolved to get me as his wife or die in the attempt. He was quite rich, so my mother, who, as I have said, wore my father's pants (who died, as God wished), put through the marriage deal. To make a long story short, the night came when we were supposed to couple carnally, which the old man, who was sleeping on hot coals, awaited as the hoe-pusher awaits the harvest; and here my sweet mother's stratagem was quite ingenious. She knew that my virginity had gone to the dogs, and so she slit the throat of one of the wedding feast capons and filled an eggshell with its blood. And after teaching me what I must do to appear chaste and how I was to lie in bed, she then smeared the blood all over the mouth from which my Pippa came. And when I went to bed, he did too, and reaching out to embrace me, he finds me all huddled up in a knot at the edge of the bed. When he tried to put his hands on my etcetera, I let myself fall straight to the floor. He immediately jumped off to help me up. Then I begin to yell, and not without tears: "I don't want to do [ 52 ]

naughty things. Leave me alone." When our voices rose, my mother heard us, opened the door, and rushed in, carrying a lamp. Then she cuddled and caressed me, all to get me to accept the staff of the good shepherd who, meanwhile, was laboring mightily to pry open my thighs, sweating more than a rustic threshing wheat. The result was he ripped my nightgown, and then cursed me up and down with a thousand oaths. Finally, more buffeted by exorcisms than a person possessed by the devil who has been tied to a church column, moaning and weeping and cursing, I opened my violin case, and he settled himself on top of me, trembling all over with his desire for my flesh, trying to push his lancet into my wound; but just then I gave him such a jolt that he was completely unhorsed. Patiently he climbed back into the saddle and, poking his lancet at me again, shoved so well that he drove it into me. When I tasted that piece of larded bread, I couldn't hold myself back and let go like a scratched pig and didn't make a single cry until his mighty mite slipped out of my house. Then I really began to shriek, so loud that all the neighbors ran to their windows. My mother rushed into the room again, and seeing the capon's blood, which had stained the sheets and my husband's nightshirt, kicked up such a fuss that for that night he was happy to let me go and sleep with her. In the morning the whole neighborhood was gathered in conclave, discussing my respectability, and that's all they talked about throughout the district. When the honeymoon came to an end, I began again to attend the churches and the festivals, as other married women do; and meeting this woman and that, I soon became intimate with some of them. ANTON1A I got lost somewhere, while listening to you. NANNAaI became a close friend of a rich and beautiful woman,aa the wife of a big merchant, young, good-looking, witty, and so much in love with her that he would dream at night of what she might want in the morning. One day when I was with her in her bedroom, my eye happened to light on a closet, and I saw something gleam in the keyhole. ANTON IA What was it? NANNAaKeeping my eye on the hole, I saw a certain some-aa thing. ANT ONI A How do you like that! [ 53 ]

NANNAaMy friend noticed my glance and I realized she had;aa so staring straight at her and she at me, I said: "When will your husband, who left for the country yesterday, get back?" "It will be when God wishes," she answered, "but if it was up to me, it would be never." "But why?" I asked. "May God visit misfortune and a bad Easter on whoever first mentioned him to me. He isn't what other people think him to be: no, I swear it by this cross." And she made the sign of the cross with her finger and kissed it. "But why not?" I asked. "Every woman envies you. Why are you so discontented? Please tell me, if you can." "You want me to tell in large, clear letters?" she said. "He looks good on the piazza, but all he's really good for is to fill me with fandangles. One needs something else, the Bible says in plain Italian, because man doesn't live on bread alone." And since I thought she had so much right on her side she could set up in business and sell it, I said to her: "You are wise and know that there are more than two days in this world." "So you can be even more sure of my wisdom," she said, "I want to show you a piece of my wit." She then opened the closet and had me feel with my hand a fellow who, in my opinion, was long on muscle and short on bread. And I swear that right there and then, before my very eyes, she pulled him on top of her and, fitting her house over his chimney, made him forge two nails in the heat of her furnace, two flat cakes dripping in oil, hip, hop, saying meanwhile: "I would prefer that people know me as a horny woman who is content than a good woman who is desperate." ANT Odlkffkldskldfsdfksdfjsdfskdlfklsfsjkfjsjsdjjfdjjfdfjjjffjfjfkfkkdfffgggg NANNAaShe then summoned her maid, who was the confidanteaa of her contentment, and made him leave the way he had come, first decorating him with a chain she wore on her neck. I kissed her on the forehead, the mouth, and both cheeks, and hastened back to my house before my husband returned to see whether our manservant was wearing the proper kind of drawers. I found the door open, went in, shooed my maid upstairs, and descended to his cubbyhole on the ground floor. I walked very quietly, pretending I had come down to pass a little water in the toilet that was there. Then I heard some low whispering, pricked up my ears, listened for a while, and realized that my mother had already thought of that little matter and had beat me to it. So I gave her my blessing, as she had given me her curse

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when I pretended that I didn't want to yield to my husband, turned around and went back upstairs, dying of desire because of all I had just seen. And along came my Waste-Of-Time and I worked off my whim on him, not the way I would have liked but as best I could. ANTONIAaWhy wasn't it as you would have liked?aa NANNAaBecause anything is better than your own husband; foaar example, look at the pleasure one gets in eating out. ANTONIAaIt is certainly true that a variety of viands stimulatesaa the appetite; and I believe you, because they also say that anything is better than a wife. NANNAaI happened to go to my country house, where I beganaa seeing a great lady—I say great, and let that suffice. Anyway, this woman was driving her husband crazy because she wanted to stay in the country all year round, and whenever he would praise the magnificence of the city and berate the discomforts of the country, she would say: "I don't care about splendors. I do not want to make people sin from envy. I do not put a high value on festivals or a lot of company, and I don't want to get anyone to break the neck of my good reputation. Mass on Sunday is enough for me, and I know very well the saving one makes staying here and all the lavish spending that goes on in your cities, where you can stay if you wish, or if not, stay here." The nobleman, who couldn't keep away from the city even if he wanted to, had to leave her alone, sometimes for as long as two whole weeks. ANTONIAaI think I know what she was thinking about.aa NANNAaShe was thinking about a priest, the chaplain of theaa manor, who if his income had been as big as the sprinkler from which he poured holy oil on her ladyship's garden—as I shall soon relate— would have lived better than a monsignor. Oh, he had a huge handle dangling beneath his belly! Oh, he had a hard one! It was bestial, I tell you. ANTONIAaChancres!aa NANNAaOne day Our-Lady-Live-in-the-Country saw the priestaa pissing quite negligently beneath her window—she herself told me about it, letting me in on the whole affair. Well, she saw a yard-long white staff with a reddish tip, split at the end with a masterly hand, and with a pretty vein running all along its haft. It was neither stiff [ 55 ]

nor dropping delicately but curved, nestling in a crown of curly hair, yellow as gold, and hanging between two firm, round, vivid bells, lovelier than those silver bells at the feet of the eagle that stands at the portals of the ambassador's palace. And as soon as she saw that great garnet, she put her hands on the ground so she wouldn't beckon to him to come up. ANTONIAaWhat a fine thing it would have been if she hadaa been pregnant and while looking at him had touched her nose, thus giving birth to a daughter with the sign of those balls on her face. NANNAaHa ha ha! After having put her hands on the floor,aa she went into such a frenzy of desire for that blockhead's tail that she fainted dead away and had to be carried to her bed. Her husband, astounded by so strange a mishap, sent to the city and had a doctor brought post-haste. The doctor felt her pulse and asked her whether she had gone to the toilet. ANTONIAaUpon my word, these doctors don't know what toaa say after they discover that the patient flushes well through the lower alembic. NANNAaWhat you say is true. Finally she said no, she hadn't,aa and the quack prescribed a certain stiff subject, which she immediately ejected, bringing tears to her good husband's eyes when he heard her call for the priest. "I want to confess," she said, "and then if it pleases God that I die, I want it to please me, too. But I feel very sad at leaving you, my dear husband." When he heard these words, the cretin flung himself on her neck and wept so much you would think he had been flogged. Kissing him, she sighed: "Courage." Then she let out such a frightful shriek that it seemed she was about to croak, and again she called for the priest. A servant was sent running for him and the priest came, in a state of confusion. And as he arrived, the doctor, who was grasping the lady's arm to feel her pulse and see how it fared, was amazed that it beat faster. "May God give you back your health," said the priest as he stepped forward, and she, staring straight at the codpiece that stuck its point out from under the belted, rough woolen blouse the priest wore, fainted once again from anguish. After they bathed her wrists with rose-vinegar water, she revived somewhat. Then her husband, who was one of the world's big[ 56 ]

gest fools, cleared out the room and shut the door to make sure that her confession would not be overheard; and he began discussing the case with the doctor, unwinding a mass of nonsense. And while the pig-castrator argued with the snail-shucker, the priest settled down on the side of the bed and made the sign of the cross with his hand, so she wouldn't have to discompose herself. He was on the point of asking how long it was since her last confession when she sank her claws into his rope, which instantly got hard, and pulled him on top of her. ANTON IA That's the way to do it! NANNAaAnd what do you say about this priest, who dispelledaa her vertigo with two quick pokes? ANTONIAaI say that he deserves the highest praise becauseaa he's not like these shit-asses who not only have the nerve to piss in bed but then yell: "Look, how much we've sweated!" NANNAaHaving completed the confession, the priest sat downaa again. As he laid his hand on her head, the husband craned his head in slightly and, seeing her receiving absolution, came in and approached her. When he saw how cheerful she looked, he said: "After all, there is no better physician than God Almighty. Don't say no, you look completely cured, and only an hour ago I thought I would lose you." She turned to her husband and said with a sigh: "I do feel better," and, muttering her Confiteor, her hands clasped, she pretended to be saying her penance. When the priest was dismissed, she made her husband slip a ducat and two julios into his palm, declaring: "The julios are alms for the confession, and the ducat so you can say a few masses for St. Gregory." ANTONIAaAdd that to the rest!aa NANNAaNow listen to a story that deserves being placed evenaa higher than the priest's tale. A lady of about forty in our country town owned a very rich estate, came from a very dignified family, and was the wife of a doctor who accomplished miracles with his writings, with which he had filled many heavy tomes. This lady, I say, went about dressed in bigot's brown, and on the morning of the day she had not heard five or six masses, she would have the jitters fo: the rest of it. She was a walking Ave Maria, a saint-clutcher and church broom, and she always fasted on the Fridays of all the months, not [ 57 ]

just in March, and at Mass she gave the responses like a choirboy, chanting vespers in a monk's tenor. What's more, they said she even wore an iron maiden next to her flesh. ANT ON iA I'm pissing on St. /Veridiana. NANNlkasjklasdjklajdkadkladkljasgdfgdfgdfhfghgfjghjjkklhfdg nences than the saint. She wore only wooden clogs, and on the eve of the feast of St. Francis of La Verna and the feast of the Ascension she ate as much bread as you can clench in a fist and drank one sip of pure water, prayed till midnight, and the little time she slept was on a sheaf of brambles. ANTOlkdjasdasndlasndansjkdnasda NANlkdjaskldjasdasd asjkdhadasdhjaskdhhdjasdhasjdhjadhja penance-slaughterer, lived in a hermitage about a mile or two from her manor house, and he would pass by our estates every day on his way to town to scrape up something to eat; and he never went home empty-handed because that sack that covered his body, that haggard face, that beard which fell to his belt, that shock of unruly hair, and a certain stone he held in his hand in the manner of St. Jerome filled the entire village with pity. Now it was on this venerable hermit that the spirit of the doctor's wife fastened, while her husband was living in town, where, out of his great good will, he was pleading several lawsuits. She often visited the hermitage, which was surely devout and delightful, and would leave carrying some bitter greens, feeling it immoral to eat the sweet ones. ANdnkljddasjkldjffsfkdskl;kl;klgklgfklgklhg NANksfkldsfjldasfsdklfjsdfjsfsklfjsfjjfjsdfjkjkdfkjjfjkjkjjksdfslfjfs hermit had named it Calvary. In the middle of it rose a large crucifix with three wooden nails, which frightened the peasant women. This cross wore at its neck a crown of thorns, from its crossbar dangled two whips of braided cord, and at its foot lay a dead man's skull. At one side a sponge rested on a pole stuck in the ground, and on the other a rusty halberd attached to an old spear. The ground on which the hill sat was filled with a small garden enclosed by a wall of reeds which had a gate made of intertwined willow wands and a wooden latch. I don't believe that if you searched the garden for an entire day you could find a single stone, the hermit scoured it so thoroughly.

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The garden plots, divided by lovely little paths, were full of different herbs—here curly, thick lettuces, there fresh, tender pimpernel. Some were planted with garlic so thick that a compass could not be opened or stuck between their rows; others grew the most beautiful cabbages in the world. Wild thyme, mint, anise, sweet marjoram, parsley—each had its place in the garden, in whose center one of those large, smoothbarked almond trees cast a shade. Down some of the paths ran clear, fresh water which bubbled out of a spring between bright rocks at the base of the hill and then gushed through the grass, and all the time the hermit could steal from his prayers he spent cultivating his garden. Not far away stood the little church with its bell tower and two small bells, and the hut in which he slept was built against the church wall. It was this small paradise which the doctor's wife entered, as I have said, and so as not to give the body cause to envy the spirit, one day they retired to the hut because of the discomfort of the sun's hot rays—and I don't know quite how, but it ended in sin. While they were doing it, a yokel (their tongues cut like knives and hurt like hell) was looking for a young donkey that had strayed from its mother and, passing the hut by chance, saw the saintly couple joined together, like a dog is attached to a bitch. Then he ran into town, rang the bell, and gathered the townsfolk, who, when they heard about it, almost all quit work, women as well as men, and converged on the church. There they found the yokel telling the priest the sort of miracle the hermit had brought to pass. The priest vested himself in his surplice, and with his stole on his neck and his book in his hand, the clerk ahead of him bearing the cross and more than fifty people trailing behind, he reached the hut in the time it takes to recite a credo. In it he found the handmaiden and the slave of the servants 01 heaven, sleeping like field hands. Snoring away, the hermit had stuck his scourge in the rope-worshiper's rump. When they first caught sight of them, the crowd was overcome and fell silent, like a good woman when she sees a stallion mount a mare. But then the men, at seeing their wives turn away, let out a laugh that could have roused the dormice. That woke the couple up. In the meantime the priest, seeing them so firmly conjoined, thundered like a chorus: "Et incarnatus est!" [ 59 ]

ANTONIAaAnd I thought that the whoring of nuns could notaa be bettered, and I was mistaken. But tell me, were the hermit and his bigot put to death ? NANNAaDeath, you say? He drew his file out of the notch, gotaa to his feet, and gave himself two lashes with that twisted vinebranch he wore around the waist. Then he said: "Gentlemen, read the lives of the Holy Fathers and then sentence me to the stake or whatever you wish. It was the devil who, in my stead and using my form, sinned, not my body, and it would be a great treachery to hurt it." And now, do you want me to tell you? This lecher, who had been first a soldier, then a paid killer, next a pimp, and out of desperation had become a hermit, gabbed so well that everyone, except I who knew where the devil kept his tail, and the priest who learned everything from the lady's confession, took him at his word because he swore by that vinebranch he wore that the spirits who tempt hermits are named succubi and incubi—the first being demons in the form of women who sleep with men, the second demons in the form of men who sleep with women. While the sack-garbed hermit was talking a blue streak, the demi-nun, who had had the time to tliink up a deception, began to squirm and twist, swell out her neck by holding her breath, roll her eyes wildly, scream, giving such a display of inner torment that it was frightening just to look at her. Then the hermit said: "You see, the evil spirit has possessed this miserable woman." And when the mayor of the village tried to seize her, she began to bite and gave a dreadful shriek. She was at last tied up by ten peasants and carried to the church, where they touched her with two small bones which they said were bones of the .Holy Innocents and were kept as a reliquary in a tabernacle sheathed in ungilt brass. After being touched by these bones for the third time, she came to her senses. The good tidings were told to the doctor, and he took the little saint back to the city and had her preach a sermon. ANTONIAaI've never heard of anything more deceitful.aa NANNAaBelieve me, there are others even worse.aa ANTONIAaAre you sure?aa NANNAaBlessed Madonna, I am. A woman who lived near meaa in the country looked like an owl in an aviary, she had so many suitors with an eye on her. All one heard at her house through the [ 60 ]

night were serenades, and all day long horses cantering by and young men sauntering past. When she was on her way to Mass she was besieged by such a horde of suitors that you couldn't get through the street. One man said: "Blessed will be the man who enjoys such an angel"; another cried: "Oh, God, why do I stop myself from kissing those breasts and then dying?" Some men gathered the dust she trod on and scattered it on their caps like people perfume themselves with Cyprus powder, and others just stared at her, sighed, and didn't say a word. This overpraised sea of blessed wonders in which everyone fished but nobody caught anything suddenly developed a lech for one of these smoked pedagogues that go from house to house spreading their doctrine—the greasiest, most wretched, filthiest specimen you could ever lay eyes on. He wore a purple mantle all splotched with oil stains like a convent scullion, so worn and slick at the collar that a louse would have slid off it, and beneath the mantle a goat's-hair blouse so threadbare that it seemed anything but goat's hair, nor could one tell what color it had been. He twisted around his waist two bands of thick silk tied together; and since his blouse had no sleeves, he used those of his doublet of Bruges satin, completely torn and frayed, whose lining could be seen when he lifted his hand, and on its neckpiece there was a rim of sweat so hard it felt like bone. The pants, it's true, took some of the curse off the surtout. They had once been a sere rose tint but no longer, were fastened to the doublet with two pieces of string without tags, and fluttered about his legs like galley-slaves' drawers, making a fine display of his heels, which kept sliding out of his shoes despite his finger which, at every step, pried them back in again. He had fashioned the soles out of a pair of old boots that had come down from one of his ancestors; the uppers were quite thin and had a great desire to show off his big toe and would have done so if the calf skin had permitted it. On the back of his head he wore a cap with a downward crease and a taffeta coif without a border, torn in three places and flavored with a dressing of dandruff from his head, which he never washed and which looked like those heads devastated by the mange. The only decent thing you saw was the good grace of his face, which he shaved twice a week. ANTON1A Don't wear yourself out describing him. I can see the slob all too clearly. [ 61 ]

NANNAaThat's just what he was, a slob. Yet he had put theaa lusting devil in that lovely female. To tell the truth, we women, when we choose, always choose the worst. Not being able to find a way to speak to him, one night she began feeding her husband a tale of woe as long as a furlong. "We are very rich," she says, "and thank God. But we don't have children and have no hope of getting them. So I have just thought of a great deed of mercy." The good husband says: "And what have you thought of, dear wife?" "I thought of your sister," she says, "loaded down with little boys and girls, and I want us to bring up her youngest boy because not only will it be good for our souls but also to whom should we be charitable if not our own flesh and blood?" Her husband praised and thanked her, saying: "For a long time I was going to open my mouth and say precisely that, but I was afraid it might not please you. But now that I know your feelings I will go as soon as I awake and tell the poor woman the good news, and I'll bring the boy back to your house, for everything here is from your dowry." "Yours as much as mine," she replied. At daybreak the procurer of his own horns arose and to his sister's joy took away his little nephew and brought him home to his wife, who made a great fuss over the child. Two days passed; the woman was at table and after dinner began talking to her husband in this wise: "I want to get a teacher to impart some good qualities to our little Luigi" (that was the child's name). "Do you have anyone in mind?" he asked. "That schoolteacher who, since I see him roaming about town, must be looking for a position." "What schoolteacher?" he said. "That fellow who wears a surtout that's always falling off his back? Is it perchance the teacher who comes to Mass—" and just as he was about to say where, she broke in: "Yes, that's the one, and I don't recall who said it but they claim he's clever as a chronicle." "He'd be excellent," her husband replied, and that very evening he went out and brought the rooster back to the henhouse. The next morning the teacher left to pick up his bag in which he kept two shirts, four handkerchiefs, three books, and some table linen, and returned to the room that the mistress of the house had prepared for him. ANTONIAaAnd what was the scheme behind all this?aa NANNAaListen and you'll learn. The next evening our lady,aa

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holding by the hand her nephew, who, with the excuse of learning the psaltery, was going to be his aunt's go-between, called the pedagogue; and I (who'd dined there that evening) heard her say to him: "Maestro, it is me you will have to teach more than this boy of mine" —and so saying, she planted two kisses right on his mouth—"and then, when it comes to your wages, leave it to me." The teacher began to reply in a jargon of church Latin, putting forth his reasons, which he counted off on his fingers, and plunging into an interminable labyrinth of points and counterpoints. Then milady turned to me and said: "He's a regular Cicero." For a while they continued to talk in this pig-Latin, but then she suddenly switched and said to him: "Tell me, maestro, have you ever been in love?" The cretin, who had if not a more beautiful at least a thicker tail than a peacock, replied: "Lady, love drove me to my studies," and then unsheathed a host of bizarre tales, telling us about a woman who had hung herself because of him, another who had taken poison, and a third who had jumped from the top of a tower, and even reeled off a list of women who because they loved had gone straight to the portals of hell—and he did it all in pointed, nicely chosen words. And while he croaked away she kept nudging me in the side with her elbow, and finally she whispered to me: "Well, what do you think of the Messer?" I, who had looked not only in his heart but to the very depths of his soul, replied: "I think he's capable not only of shaking down a peach but even of bringing down a pear." She burst out laughing, flung her arms around my neck, sent the teacher off to study, and took me to her bedroom. There she received a message that her husband would not return to eat or sleep, which was often his habit, and she, happy at this, said to me: "Your slowpoke will have to be patient too because I want you to spend the night with me." So I sent word to my mother and got her permission to stay. We then treated ourselves to a little supper of a thousand tidbits—livers, sweetbreads, chickens' feet and necks, a salad flavored with parsley and pepper, nearly a' whole cold capon, olives, red apples, goat's-milk cheese, quince jelly to settle our stomachs, and candies to sweeten our breath. The teacher's provender was sent to his room, and it was all fresh hard-boiled eggs—and why she made them hard-boiled you can well imagine. ANTONIAaI imagined that right away.aa [ 63 ]

NANNAaAfter we had dined and the table was cleared off, andaa after the whole household, including her husband's nephew, had been sent to bed, she said to me: "Sister, if our husbands all year round, whenever they wish, eat whatever piece of meat comes their way, why shouldn't we tonight at least partake of the teacher's flesh? Judging by his nose he must have a prick like an emperor's; besides, nobody will ever find out, because he is so ugly and clumsy that even if he told about it, nobody would believe him." I pretended to be frightened and gulped on my reply; but at last I said: "This is a dangerous business. Say your husband comes back—how will that make us look?" "Silly," she said, "what are you thinking of? So you believe I am so stupid that if my scramble-brained husband came back, I wouldn't know how to handle him?" "Well," I said, "if that's the case, you take care of it." Meanwhile the teacher, who was craftier than two aces, having immediately noticed that his mistress was all worked up when he talked to her of love and aware that the master was sleeping out, had his ear to the door and overheard her remarks. And to avoid having to hang or strangle herself as did those ninnies he had trotted out as bad examples, she decided that the better course would be to stuff the scholar inside of her; but just the sight of one of those long sacks of fusty leather that dangled at his side was enough to make you want to vomit up vour guts. He had heard everything and, with the presumption typical of a pedagogue, raised the door curtain and stalked in without further invitation. As soon as she saw him, his mistress, who had even sent her maids away, cried: "Maestro, put a rein on your mouth and hands, and tonight use only your baptismal sprinkler." The oaf, who had not the nose to sniff a rose's pistils, nor the fingers to close the stops of a flute, couldn't have cared less about kissing or caressing; he drew out his smoking stool-leg with its fiery, burning tip and its length all dotted with warts, gave it a proud slap, and proclaimed: "Here it is, ready for your ladyship's pleasure." She put it on the palm of her hand and cried: "Oh my little sparrow, my dove, my pigeon, come into your aviary, your, palace, your reign!" and backing up against the wall, she lifted a leg, shoved it into her middle, and devoured the sausage standing up; and the scoundrel poked at her cruelly. Meanwhile I felt like a slut who masticates a mouthful before she has it in [ 64 ]

her mouth, and if I hadn't macerated myself a bit with a metal pestel that I found on a chest, which, judging from the odor it gave off, must have pounded cinnamon, I would surely have died of envy at the others' pleasure. Now the lunkhead brought his work to completion, and the woman, worn out but still hungry for it, sat down on the small bed. Again she clutched the dog by its tail and tugged and twisted it so much that it went positively wild; and since she was revolted by the teacher's face, she turned her back to him and, grabbing the salvum me fac, drove it furiously into her zero, then pulled it out and rammed it again into her box, and then again into her rump, and so ended the second round. Then she said to me: "There's plenty of it left for you, I swear." I felt faint, like a person who's dying of hunger but can't eat, and I got ready to place my finger on a certain spot on the fox that brings passion up in a rush (I learned this secret from the Bachelor; I didn't tell you, because it slipped my mind) when behold! we suddenly heard someone pounding on the locked door downstairs, and one could well say to the man who was banging: "Either you're crazy or this is your house." At this uproar our knobhead assumed the look of a man with a good reputation who has been caught red-handed breaking into a sacristy, and we, with glassy expressions, stood stockstill. At the second series of blows she recognized her husband and started to laugh, doing it louder and louder so that he could hear her. When she was sure she had been heard, she shouted: "Who's down there?" "It's me," he said. And she: "Oh, my darling husband, wait, I'm coming down, wait." And having ordered: "Nobody move," she went down to open the door, and when she did she said to him: "A spirit told me: 'Don't go to bed, because it's certain that he won't sleep out tonight'; and so that I wouldn't get sleepy, I asked our neighbor to keep me company. The poor woman, she's been telling me about the life she had in the convent and made me terribly sad. And if I hadn't known that our teacher is the sort that can sleep on his feet and made him join me to cheer me up with his poppycock, it would have been bad for me." And then, without another word, she led her credulous husband upstairs. He began to laugh as soon as he saw the teacher, for, scared silly by his arrival, he looked like an interrupted dream. But when the husband laid eyes on me, he immediately began plotting how to come [ 65 ]-

into possession of my little holding; and so as to have the leisure to become more intimate with me, he engaged the teacher in a long discussion, pretending to be enjoying it immensely, getting him to recite his A B C's backwards; and the wretch, saying them that way, made him laugh until he fell. All this while I caught the drift of the language of glances combined with a few pressures on my foot, and finally I said: "Since your maids have gone to bed, I'll go and sleep with them." "No, no," our friend replied, and turning to his wife, he said: "Take her to the small room and put her to bed in there." This was done, and when I was tucked in bed he said aloud, so that I would hear and be sure of him: "I must, my dear wife, go back to where I came from. Send this Leave-Me-Be to bed and you go there, too." So happy she could have touched the sky with her finger, she began flinging about all the clothes in a chest to show she wanted to wait for him until daybreak; and he went down the stairs clattering all the way, unlocked the door, and shut it sharply like someone who has actually gone out, but remained inside. Then he crept upstairs like a cat, came into the room where I was supposed to be sleeping, though I wasn't, and quietly lay down beside me. When he placed his hand on my breast I was gripped by the anguish you sometimes suffer when you sleep flat on your back and a very heavy object seems to have squatted on your heart, which doesn;t let you talk or move. ANTONIAaThat's a nightmare.aa NANNAaSo it is. And then he said to me: "If you keep quiet,aa it'll be good for you," and as he said this, he caressed my cheek gently with his hand. But I asked: "Who is this?" "I am who I am," the invisible spirit answered, trying all the while to open my thighs, which I held together more tightly than a miser clenches his fists. Thinking I was saying it softly, I cried: "Lady, O lady," and, sure enough, the lady heard me. Then her husband, who was already deep inside me, slipped out my side exit and ran into the hallway just as his wife came rushing in with a lamp to see what was bothering me. The husband then went into the room she had just left and saw that boor resting in his place in bed, rubbing his rod, waiting to use it to make the lark sing. And just as the she-fashioner of twisted horns was saying to me: "What's wrong with you?" a groan more like the bray of a donkey than the voice of a man stopped the answer in my mouth. [ 66]

For the husband, using the fire shovel, was beating the teacher brutally; and if his wife, coming to his rescue, had not dragged the poor scholar out of his clutches, it would have been bad for him. ANTONIAaHe was right to break every bone in his body.aa NANNAaHe was and he wasn't.aa ANTONIAaWhy the devil not?aa NANNAaThere's a lot that could be said. When his lady sawaa blood pouring out of the lunk's nose, she set her hands on her hips and swung on her husband, in whom the patience of respect had been broken after seeing that dirty lout where he had seen him, and shaking her head, she cried: "And who do you think I am, ha? Who am I, eh? My nurse told me the truth, that you'd treat me just as though you'd taken me from the gutter, where I took you. Her prophecies are fulfilled, when she kept telling me, 'Don't take him, don't take him, because he'll mistreat you.' So you think that a woman like me would go with a two-eyed hunk of flesh like that? Tell me why you've beaten him, why? What did you see him do? Is our bed a holy altar that a poor fool has to respect it so, as if you didn't know that these men, after you take their books away, aren't even sure what world they're in. Well, now I understand you. If that's how you want it, that's the way it's going to be. Tomorrow morning I'll clear up that little point and get the notary to rewrite my will, so that my enemy won't have the chance to enjoy my possessions—a man who makes a whore out of his wife without justification." Then, raising her voice, she went on, wailing: "Alas, wretched me, is that the sort of woman I am?" And she started to tear at her hair wildly so that you'd have thought her father had been murdered before her very eyes. By that time I was all dressed and ran to the uproar. "Come now," I said to her, "please, stop it. Do you want to start the whole district gossiping about you? Don't cry, my lady." ANTONIAaAnd what did her piazza bully say to that?aa NANNAaHe lost the power of speech when she threatened toaa change the will, for he knew that nowadays a man without property is worse off than a courtier without credit, without favor, and without an income. ANTONIAaAnd that's not just talk.aa NANNAaBut I couldn't help but laugh at seeing the pooraa scholar in his nightshirt, cowering in a corner and trembling all over. [ 67 ]

ANTONIAaHe must have looked like a fox caught in a net,aa who sees a shower of blows rain down on him. NANNAaHa ha ha! You've said it. In short, the husband, whoaa didn't want to give up his flowering bush just because the donkey had taken a bite out of it, nor lose his pasture, which grew green for him all year round, knelt at her feet and begged and pleaded so much that she forgave him; and I ate the dry crust of penance, thanks to keeping to my "I will not." And having driven the teacher to bed with a dozen shovel-blows, they also went to bed, pacified, and so did I. When the time came to get up, there was my mother, who took me back home, where, after doing my toilette, I sat stunned all day because of the bad night I had spent. • ANTONIAaaaWas the teacher discharged? NANNAaWhat do you mean, discharged? Eight days later Iaa saw him all decked out like a nobleman. ANTONIAaOne thing is certain: when a servant, overseer, oraa butler exceeds all limits in dressing, spending freely, and gambling, he has his beak in his mistress. NANNAaNo doubt about that. But let's come to a certain ladyaa who was wearing herself out with the yen to get a spindle shoved into her distaff by a yokel who was reputed to have a dowel as big as a bull or a mule. She was the spouse of an elderly knight of the Order of the Golden Spur, which was founded by Pope John, and the old man put on more airs about his title than the hangman of Mantua does about his. He always walked next to the wall, strutting about with his head high, and to all remarks whatsoever he would say: "We Knights . . ."; and when he appeared on the solemn feastdays, dressed in his glittering clothes, he seemed to fill the entire church and minced forward, so to speak, in Latin. He never spoke except to discuss the great Turk and the Sultan, and he knew all the news of the world. Now the wife of this pest used to gripe about everything that came from their country estate. If chickens arrived, she would say: "Only these? We're being robbed"; if fruit was brought: "What a fine bunch those peasants are. The ripe ones they bolt down and the green ones they give to us"; if salad greens, a nest of birds, a bunch of strawberries, or suchlike delicacies were presented to her, she would say: "We're being rooked! I don't want [ 68 ]

this stuff; they're making us pay for it with our grain, wine, and oil." She raised such a stink that her husband got suspicious, changed his farmhand, and on his wife's advice, came to terms with the man who had a pole that could sweep even the largest chimney. When the lease was signed, the rustic took over the holding. A few days later he came to town and visited the house, so loaded down that he had to knock at the door with his foot. It was immediately opened, and he went up the stairs. He had a yoke set across his back from whose front end dangled three pairs of ducks and from whose rear three pairs of capons; in his right hand he held a basket filled with about a hundred eggs and just as many cheeses. He looked like a Venetian water-carrier, who with one hand holds the cross-piece (as they put it) with a bucket at each of its ends and a third bucket in his free hand. And with a greeting and a bow, tapping the tip of his boot on the floor, he introduced himself to his new mistress, who, caring more for the farmhand's substance than her husband's honor, gave him a welcome that would even have been fulsome for the old knight himself. Then she had them set before him on the kitchen table a snack that would have sufficed for both lunch and dinner, urging him to drink a large bottle of white wine which had a vein of sweetness, .and, seeing that he had a rubicund face that suited her tastes, said to him: "Whenever you bring us good things from the estate, you'll be glad you're alive." And the knight not being at home, she shouted, "Didn't you hear me?" at the maid, who ran up and at her orders emptied the basket and gave it back to the farmhand, and put the ducks together with others they had. When she picked up the capons to do likewise, her mistress cried: "Leave them here." Instead she had the yokel pick them up, led him up into the attic, untied the feet of the chickens, which, being stiff and sore, lay there for an hour without moving, closed the skylight, and proceeded to see what sort of tool he had to work with in her soil and whether its actual presence stood up to its reputation. Her maid swore to me that she heard such a jolting and shaking from above that it seemed they would break through the floor. After the mistress had him graft it in her twice running, pretending all the while to be discussing with him the misdeeds of the previous farmer, who had damaged the olive and peach trees, the two of them came downstairs; and since he could not wait for the knight,

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the time having come to lock the door, he asked the lady's leave to go and returned in a great good mood to the estate, where he did not fail to recount his entire adventure to the parish priest. The woman was still marveling over that huge flail of his, which had packed her warehouse to the eaves, when she heard a noise over the land, some people running here and there, and others crying: "Attack! Pursue them!" She went out on the balcony and saw some of her relations in a rage, brandishing swords, with their capes twisted around their arms, and others without caps carrying big spears, pruning hooks, and skewers. At this sight she turned ashen gray and felt completely at sea. Then she saw two men bearing her knight, all covered with blood, followed by a mob of peasants. She fainted dead away and fell to the floor. The poor wretch of a knight was carried up to his room and laid on his bed; and they sent someone off at a gallop for the doctor, while the rest gathered eggs and ripped men's shirts into bandages. Meanwhile she came to and ran to her husband; and when he stared at her without saying a word, she went into a frenzy and kicked up a terrible row. He was dying, that was clear, and it was made even clearer when they brought blessed candles to the bedside. She said to him: "Forgive me; entrust yourself to God"; and he motioned with his hand that he forgave her and trusted in God and died. And the doctor and priest got there too late. ANTONIAaOn whose account had he been murdered ?aa NANNAaBecause the traitorous trollop had satisfied a certainaaa fellow, who put him in his final home with three stab wounds. This got the whole region in an uproar, and she pretended twice she wanted to fling herself out of a window, each time making sure, however, to be restrained in time. She ordered the most solemn funeral rites ever to be held, painted his coat-of-arms on the church walls, draped his coffin with a cloth of rich brocade, and had it borne by six burghers of the town, accompanied by almost all the inhabitants, and set it in the church, where she, garbed in black, with two hundred wailing women behind her, spoke of her grief so sweetly that everyone wept. After the sermon, which recounted all the knight's virtues and gallant deeds, was delivered from the pulpit, and the requiem aeternam was chanted by more than a thousand priests, nuns, and

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monks of all colors, he was placed in a beautiful tomb, inscribed with an epitaph read by the entire populace, and above the bier were hung banners, his sword with its red velvet scabbard and gilded silver hilt, his shield, and his helmet, which was trimmed with velvet like the scabbard of the sword. Oh, I forgot to say that all his peasants also attended the funeral, all wearing black caps he had given them and flocking behind his coffin, and among them there was, of course, the man of the geese, capons, eggs, and fortunate adventure. But why spend so many words on it ? With him she found a way to dry her tears, being now both wife and mistress and the heir of everything. The fact is, the dead man had married her for love, and when he realized he could have neither son nor daughter from her, he made her a gift of all his property to the dismay of his family. ANTONIAaIt was given into good hands.aa NANNAaAs I say, being able now to wander about the coun-aa tryside without a care in the world, and having sent her servants home, she had the knight's successor all to herself. And his elephant's tusk so consoled her that, putting aside all shame, she decided to take him as her husband before the family started pestering her with demands to marry some other man. Then, in order to munch at it at her ease, she started the rumor that she intended to become a nun, and all the orders began paying court to her. She had decided to marry the yokel, without worrying her head about "What will they say of me?" or "What honor will I be doing my family?" and so forth and so on, for she knew that respectability is the ruin of sensuality, that delay leads to prohibition, and that to repent is death. So she sent for a notary and got rid of that bee in her bonnet. ANTONIAaShe could have remained a widow and satisfied heraa hunger for that door-knocker just as well. NANNAaI shall tell you some other time why she didn't remainaa a widow. Anyway, widows' lives are such that it would take up a whole conversation by itself. But I can tell you this: widows are much subtler whores than nuns, wives, and the women at street corners. ANTONIAaHow is that?aa NANNAaNuns, married women, and whores get themsel-vesaa

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reamed and burnished by any sort of oaf and idiot, but widows are combed and brushed by prayers, fasts, devotions, sermons, masses, vespers, offices, alms, and all the seven works of charity. ANTONIAaAnd are there no good nuns, wives, widows, andaa whores ? NANNAaThese four generations are like the proverb aboutaa coins: "Be wise and take them on faith." ANTONIAaSo we're well off, then. But let's go back, back toaa the wedding of our knight's lady. NANNAaWell, she took him for her husband; and once theiraa relationship was known, she had to leave, pursued by the curses of the entire region, not just those of her family. She was so crazy for that weapon of his that she would cling to him everywhere—in the fields, the vineyard—and would even bring him his meals. And the yokel, who came from a lusty family, stuck his knife twice into her brother, who had threatened to poison him, so that nobody in the town dared to go out the gate. ANTONIAaIt's a bad business, having anything to do with suchaa folk. NANNAaAs the saying goes: "God save me from the tenderaa mercies of clodhoppers." But let's go on to merrier subjects, and sweeten the death of the poor knight with the life' story of a rich, stingy, cretinous old man who had a wife of seventeen, a girl set on the most elegant, neatly turned hips I have ever seen, and with so gracious a grace that whatever she said or did brimmed with sweetness. She had certain ladylike gestures, certain haughty manners, certain fetching ways that set you ardently longing for her. Put a lute in her hands and she seemed a mistress of sounds; give her a book and she resembled a poetess; supply her with a sword and you would have sworn that she was a captain. To see her dance, she was a hind; to hear her sing, an angel; watch her playing, and I don't know who to' compare her to. When she looked at you with her burning eyes, full of something I can't describe, everyone was swept by passion. When she ate she seemed to be gilding the food; and when she drank, she gave flavor to the wine. A ready wit, openminded, quick, and generous, she spoke with such majesty about profound matters that compared to her duchesses looked like infants. She [ 72 ]

would deck her dresses with frills she had invented, and everyone would stare at her. One day she would show herself in a coif, the next with her hair partly gathered in a bun and partly braided, with a little curl that dangled before one eye and made it wink—oh God!—so that she killed the men with lust and the women with envy! And because of her inborn grace she knew even too astutely how to enslave her suitors, enraptured by the trembling of her breasts, on which nature had sprinkled rose-red droplets. She often would stretch out her hand as though she wanted to find some defect on it, and would make the glitter of her rings match that of her eyes, dazzling the sight of the man who was so attentively gazing at her hand, which she examined so artfully. Walking, she barely touched the ground, dancing all the time with her eyes, as it were. At the stoup of holy water, which she sprinkled on her head, she made a bow that seemed to say: "That's how they do it in paradise." And despite all these charms, talents, and graces, she still could not stop her bullock of a father from marrying her off to a sixty-year-old, or at least that's the age he admitted to (since he didn't want to be considered old). This husband was called the Count on account of some hill fortress with turreted walls and two bake-ovens he owned, and also by virtue of certain screeds of lead-sealed goat skin which, he claimed, the emperor had given him. He could hold tourneys for all those dandies who enjoy riddling their hides, and held one almost every month. I guess he thought he was the Bailiff of Modena when he saw all those idlers, who had come to see this or that man play the fool, doffing their caps to him. On the day of the tourney he would display himself like a pontiff, wearing a red velvet cloak covered from top to bottom with golden spangles, not at all threadbare since this sort of velvet never wears out, a hat shaped like a trencher on his head, and over his red cloak lined with green, a cowl of silver brocade, the sort scholars sometimes wear over their mantles, and at his side his sharp sword with a latten knob and an ancient scabbard. Then he paced twice about the lists on foot, trailed by twenty barefoot hinds armed with crossbows and watchmen's halberds, some of them his servants and others recruited from his estates He always rode an old mare bulging with bran, which a hundred thousand pairs of spurs, much less one, could not have gotten to lift a hoof in haste, and it [ 73 ]

would get all crumpled up when it heanjl the trumpet sound to enter the lists. On such days he kept his wife under lock and key, though on all other days that gardener's dog of a Count would follow her through the churches, the festivals, and everywhere, sniffing her tail. But then in bed he told her all the great feats he had performed when he was a soldier, and in his story of the battle where he was captured he even included the hoc boftof the cannon, which he imitated with his mouth, and flung himself around the bed like a madman. The poor girl, who longed to joust with the night's lances, was in despair; and sometimes out of sheer spite she would make him crouch on the floor on all fours, stuff a sash in his mouth in lieu of a bridle, jump on top of him, jab her heels into his sides, and ride him as he rode his horse. Now, while living this melancholy life, she thought of an amusing trick. ANTON IA I want to hear this one. NANNAaShe began talking in her dreams at night, using wordsaa that didn't stick together, at which the old man laughed uproariously; though he scolded her sharply when she began flailing about with her hands and gave him a wallop in the eye, which had to be treated with white lead and rose-water oil. But she acted as though she couldn't remember what she said or did and added to her repertory by getting out of bed and opening windows and chests. Sometimes she would dress, and the fool would run after her, shaking her and calling to her in a loud voice. One of these nights when he tried to follow her out the door of the bedchamber, he placed his foot on the edge of the stairs when he thought he was putting it on the step and tumbled head over heels to the bottom; and not only did he get bruised all over, but he broke a leg. The whole household heard his screams, which also woke up the neighborhood; and the servants rushed to him and put him back in bed, which he would have done better never to have left. And she, pretending to be awakened by her husband's cries and discovering what had Happened, wept and was full of remorse, cursing her vice of getting out of bed; and though it was so late, she sent for the doctor, who set his bone. ANTONIAaWhy did she pretend she was dreaming?aa NANNAaTo get him to fall, as he did, and to hurt himself soaaa he couldn't keep after her. Now the old man, made infantile by [ 74 ]

jealousy, was much more miserable; but he was so vain that, even though he died from it, he kept ten scoundrelly louts as valets, all sleeping in a large room on the ground floor, the oldest among them not more than twenty-four. One lad who had a good cap had torn pants, another who had whole pants wore a tattered doublet, and the fellow who had a good cape had a ragged shirt; and they often ate only bread and scraps. ANTONIAaWhy did the rogues stay on there ?aa NANNAaFor the freedom he gave them. Now, my dear An-aa tonia, his lady had given this band the once-over; and when she had her clown stuck in bed, his thigh between two splints, she started sleepwalking again, and raising her arms, jumped out of bed while her old man was shouting: "Hey, there! Watch out!" She opened the door, let him choke calling her, and went down to the servants, who, around a guttering lamp, were gambling with money robbed from their master, which had been given them to buy certain geegaws. Saluting them with a "Good night," she doused the lamp; and then, pulling down on top of her the first fellow she could lay her hands on, began to amuse herself with him. During the three hours she was with them she tried all ten of the valets, each one twice. Then, mounting the stairs, relieved of the lusts that had made her pant and rave, she declared: "My dear husband, if you want to lay the blame on something, blame this nasty nature of mine which drags me about like a witch, forcing me to parade through the house all night long." ANTONIAaWho told you all this in such detail?aa NANNAaShe herself. For after having trod on her honor, sheaa became the people's wife; and once her charms were put in circulation, she told the story to anyone who would listen, even those who didn't want to. What's more, one of the ten combatants had become angry at her because she had given herself entirely to a valet who had a bigger, thicker tool than he, and ran about like a nut, telling the story in the piazzas, taverns, and barbershops. ANTONIAaShe was absolutely right, and so much the worseaa for the old idiot. He should have taken a wife of his own age, not a girl who could have been his daughter a hundred times over. NANNAaYou have heard me; that's how he was. And it notaa being enough for her to have burdened him with so many horns that [ 75 ]

a thousand deer wouldn't have borne them, she got the hots for an itinerant street singer, dosed her husband's plate of soup with a twist of pepper, and got rid of him; and while he was dying, right before his eyes, she married the rascal and had commerce with him— at least that's the story they told thereabouts, but I wouldn't want to swear to it, since I wasn't holding my finger on it. ANTONIAaIt must be true, unfortunately.aa NANNAaNow listen to this. One of the good ladies of the townaa had a husband who had a greater passion for gambling than a monkey has for cherries, and his particular love was the game called primero. So crowds of people would come to the house to play cards. Now since he owned a farm nearby, a peasant woman who had been widowed would come every two weeks to visit his wife, bringing with her certain tidbits from the estate, such as dried figs, walnuts, cherries, olives, grapes dried in the oven, and suchlike dainties; and if she didn't go right back home, she would stay with her mistress for quite a while. One day, since it was a half holiday, she came to stay with her mistress, carrying in her basket a string of lovely snails and about twenty-five plums laid out on a bed of calamint herbs. The weather got bad, a wind rose, and so terrible a rain poured down that she was forced to spend the night. This shameless idler, who was living off the fat of the land and in the presence of his wife said anything that came to his mind, this drunken gabber got wind of it and immediately had designs on the peasant woman; and since he thought he would gain his guest's praises as a good fellow by giving them a present of a thirty-one, he told the crowd that played cards in his house all about it. They all laughed and agreed. Having ordered them to return after dinner, he said to his wife: "Put our peasant woman to sleep in the attic room," and she, saying that she would, sat down at table to eat dinner with him, placing the peasant woman, as brightly colored as a bouquet of roses, at its foot. Soon after the dinner the crowd returned; and as the husband left with them, he told his wife to go to sleep and to send the widow off, too. The wife, who knew on what foot her skirt-chaser was limping, said to herself: "I've heard it said that a woman who enjoys herself fully once will never feel hard up again. My husband, who scorns all honor, wants to loot our peasant woman's warehouse and closet; so I have decided [ 76 ]

to find out what this thirty-one business is which disgusts people so much and which I can see my feckless husband's pals are preparing for the good woman." So saying, she put the woman to sleep in her bed and lay down herself in the bed she had made for her. And then along came her husband, taking long steps, trying to hold in his panting breath and making strange puffing sighs, and his companions, who were going to sink their hands in the dough after him, unable to restrain their chuckles, let them out in a kind of hiccough; and all you heard were gasps—"Oh! Ah!"—which they tried to stifle with each others' hands. (And there wasn't a thing they did that one of the thirty-one, who used to drop by now and then to slip me a quick one just to pass the time, didn't tell me about later.) Now the captain of the tilters slipped down next to her as soft as a sigh— and she had never awaited him with such burning desire—and clutched her as if to say: "I know you'll never escape me now." She pretended she had wakened awfully frightened and made as though to get up; then with all his strength he clasped her close to him and, pushing her legs apart with his knee, sealed the letter, realizing she was his wife as much as we can see leaves growing on that fig tree that is shading us now. But feeling him shake her plum tree not like a husband but like a lover, she said to herself: "This oaf gorges on stranger's bread with gusto, while he barely nibbles at the stuff he gets at home." In short, he hit the bull's-eye twice and, returning to his friends, said, laughing loudly: "It may be the good food or the good purchases, but she has the soft, firm flesh of a lady!" And to sum it up in a phrase, he said that she had an ass that savored of mint and wild thyme. Having delivered this opinion, he pushed forward the next man, who, with the voracity of a monk rushing for his broth, ran to graze on the beef, as they put it in Romanesco. Then the signal was given to the third man, who lunged for the feast like a fish for a worm and made them laugh because, as he dropped his pike in the reservoir, he let off three thunderclaps without lightning. That brought sweat to her temples, and she said to herself: "These thirty-ones lack all discretion." Well, to avoid keeping you here all night with this fellow and that, let's say they screwed her in all possible ways, by all paths, and in all styles and fashions (to put it in the manner of the Petrarchesque courtesan, Mamma-Don't-Want-To). At [ 77]

the twentieth customer she began behaving like a cat, which squeezes with pleasure and howls with pain. Then along came a man who, when he had to take the whistle and bagpipes—and it seemed to him that they were stalls for snails without shells—pondered the matter for a bit and then went in from the back; but since he couldn't touch either shore, he cried: "My dear, blow your nose and then take a whiff of my caper bush." And each man in the crowd, his feelings stiffly erect at hearing this speech, was all set to fling himself on the woman when his friend had finished, just as artisans, children, and rustics on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday of Holy Week wait for the monk to absolve the man who has completed his confession; and while waiting more than one jerked his dog up and down so briskly that it spat out its soul. At last the four men who were at the end of the line and were more desperate than wise, though not quite willing to go for a swim in that sea of grease without a cockleshell, lit the candlestump they used to light the way for gamblers who, having lost their money, would leave in a huff; and against the wishes of the leader of the thirty-one, they entered the room where his wife lay smeared with oil all the way up her thighs. Seeing that she had been found out, she assumed the expression of a brazen Sisto Bridge whore and said: "These are the dreams of this world. Since I heard everyone say that this woman has had her thirty-one and that woman has had it too, I want to see for myself what this thirty-one looked like, and now I'm ready to take the consequences." Her husband, making a virtue of necessity, asked her: "Well, what do you think of it, my dear wife?" And she said: "I think it's pretty good." And no longer being able to hold in the meal she had eaten, she ran to the toilet, loosened her sphincters, and like an engorged Abbot discharges soup from his belly, gave twentyseven unborn souls back to the earthly Limbo. And the peasant woman having discovered that the barley prepared for her had been eaten by someone else, went back home and behaved as though her ass had been scalded with boiled beans; and she refused to speak to her mistress for a whole year. ANTONIAaBlessed are the women who can satisfy theiraa desires! NANNAaThat's what I say too. But I don't envy anyone whoaa [ 78 ]

satisfies them by these thirty-ones; I have tried them once or twice myself, thanks to those who gave them to me, and I didn't find in them the delight people claim for them, because they go on too long! I'll tell you the truth: if it lasted only half as long it would be a splendid thing and quite worthwhile. But let's get to a woman, whose name I won't mention, who developed a yen for a jailbird whom the mayor didn't want to hang so as not to give that happiness to the gallows. The prisoner's father had died and left him, when he was about twenty-one, a fortune of fourteen thousand ducats, half in hard cash and the rest in possessions and the palace's holdings more than the house itself. In three years he ate, gambled, and screwed away all the money, and' then he took over the farms and in three more years finished the rest. Unable to sell a cottage, since the will forbade it, he tore it down and sold the stones; then he went to work on the furnishings, first pawning a sheet, then selling a tablecloth, finally this bed or that, one thing today, another tomorrow, until he was left high and dry, making the scales collapse so completely that first he mortgaged and then sold his house, in fact threw it away, and was as naked as the day he was born. Then he gave himself up to all the wickednesses a man can not only do but even imagine: false oaths, murders, thefts, frauds, card-sharping, dice-loading, betrayals, swindles, and assassinations. He had been thrown into prison for four or five years each time, and while inside he tasted more rope than food; and now he was in for having spat in the face of a certain gentleman, whose name I shan't take in vain. ANTON IA The lewd traitor! NANNAaHe was so lewd that having made one flesh with hisaa mother could be considered the least of his sins. And though beggared of all other wealth, he was so rich in the French disease that he had enough to distribute among a thousand of his neighbors and still have a world of it left for himself. When this baptism-slaughterer was in prison, a doctor paid by the community to treat the poor prisoners, while treating the leg of a prisoner, fearful that chancres would gnaw it away, cried: "What! I have cured that crook's supernatural nature, and can't cure your leg?" The story of this immeasurably large pike reached the ears of the aforesaid lady, and the imprisoned scoundrel's immense member became lodged in her heart and she

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burned for it more ardently than Queen Pasiphae burned for the bull. Since there was no way or method by which she could dispel this yearning, she decided to commit a crime so that she would be thrown in the same prison as the spitter on the cross. When Easter arrived, she took communion without confessing and was reprimanded for doing so; she retorted that she had behaved properly. The affair becoming known, charges against her were brought to the mayor, who had her arrested, bound hand and foot, and given the rope treatment. She then confessed that the cause of her sin was her frenzied desire for that man's root—a man with eyes so small and deeply sunk he could scarcely see, a big nose crushed against his face with a slanty cut across it, and two lumps from Job's disease that looked like the balls of a mule; ragged, stinking, revolting, completely infested with nits and lice. The wise mayor gave her this man for company, declaring: "He will be the penance for your sin per infinita saeculorum." On being imprisoned for life, she was as happy as another would have been at being freed. They say that after getting a taste of that huge cob, she proclaimed: "Here we shall build our tabernacles." ANTONIAaWas the cob you describe as big as a donkey's?aa NANNAaBigger.aa ANTONIAaBigger than a mule's?aa NANNAaBigger.aa ANTONIAaBigger than a bull's?aa NANNAaBigger.aa ANTONIAaBigger than a stallion's?aa NANNAaI say three times as big.aa ANTONIAaWas it as big as one of those walnut bedposts thataa decorate a canopied bed ? NANNAaNow you have said it.aa ANTONIAaAnd what did you think of it?aa NANNAaNow when she was wallowing in bliss up to her neck,aa the people of the town began to pester the mayor, who to meet the demands of justice was forced to sentence the malefactor to the gallows; and he gave him his ten days of grace—but I skipped something (we'll get back to the rascal soon enough). No sooner was the lustful woman in jail and no sooner had she revealed her true character than the story spread through the town and gave plenty of [ 80 ]

food for gossip to the people, the artisans, and above all the women; and all you heard on the streets, windows, and balconies was gabble about her, some of it amused and some disgusted. And whenever six of these gossips collected around the pillar of a holy water stoup, they would stand there for two hours at a stretch to discuss it. One of the knots of talkers collected in my district and their remarks were overheard by a respectable woman from the country, who, seeing the cluster of women listening breathlessly with their distaffs in the air, said: "We who, being women, are dishonored by that slut's conduct, should march off right now to the palace and drag her out of prison with fire, throw her on a cart, and tear her apart with our teeth. We should stone her, skin her alive, and crucify her." After saying these words she went home, puffed up like a wine cask, as though all the honor of all the women in the world was in her care.

ANT ONI A What a fool! NANNAaNow when the ten days' grace was granted the rogue,aa it came to the ears of this good churchgoing woman, who, as I say, wanted to run to the prison, burn it down, and drag her out with fire, and she began to pity him and thought of the great harm the district would suffer by losing that cannon of his, whose fame, not to speak of its real prowess, drew unsatisfied women as a magnet draws a needle or a blade of straw. So she was gripped by the same frenzy to enjoy it that had driven the other sacrament-scorner (speaking with all due reverence), and thought up the most devilishly subtle stratagem that one has ever heard. ANTON IA May God spare you from such lusts! What did she think of? NANNAaShe had a sickly husband who would stay up for twoaa hours and stay in bed for two days. Sometimes he would have such palpitations of the heart that he began to choke and looked as though he was about to pass on. And having heard that a working whore in a brothel (may the plague take her!) could release a man being led to the gallows if she stepped forward and said: "This is my husband"— ANTONIAaWhat's this I hear?aa NANNAa—she decided to strangle her husband and then, withaa the authority of the sinful, take the man-to-be-hanged for her spouse. [ 81 ]

Just as she thought this, her ailing husband cried out in anguish: "Oh, my God," closed his eyes, clenched his fists, doubled up his legs, and fainted. And she, who looked like a keg of tuna, being wider than she was long, clapped a pillow over his mouth, sat down on top of it, and without even asking help from her maid forced him to vomit up his soul by the same route that digested bread takes on its way out.

ANTONIAaOh!aa NANNAaShe then made a great racket, tore out her hair, andaa collected all her neighbors, who, knowing of the poor man's illness, did not doubt that he had been strangled by one of those frequent fits of his. He was buried very honorably since he was respectably rich, and his wife ran to the whorehouse with the passion of a bitch in heat (I tell it to you straight). And since neither on her side nor on her husband's did she have any relatives that were worth two bits, she remained thei s without difficulty, the people believing that she had been driven crazy by grief over her husband's death. While she was there, the night arrived when on the following morning they were going to punish the do-it-to-everyone; and the town was emptied of all men and nearly all women, who assembled at the mayor's house to see death announced to the man who deserved a thousand of them. The criminal laughed when he heard the knight say: "For it pleases God and our magnificent mayor—whose name I should have mentioned first—that you shall die." He was taken out of the prison and led through the mob, his feet in irons and his hands manacled, sitting on a small tuft of straw between two priests who were comforting him; nor did he pull a surly face at the painted holy image they offered him to kiss. And as though he wasn't the man that would be hanged, he chatted away, telling a thousand fables; and every person who came to see him he called by name. The great bell of the commune had been tolling slowly and gravely since that morning, proclaiming the sentence to be carried out. After the banners were brought out, the reading of the sentence, which went on till the late afternoon, was performed by a member of the court with a shrill, resonant voice; and then the criminal left with a thick gilt rope on his neck and a crown of tinsel paper on his head, which meant that he was the King of the Rogues. The trumpet, shorn of its pendants, [ 82 ]

was sounded and he was sent on his way surrounded by a phalanx of policemen, with the whole rough populace behind him. As he passed along the walls, the roofs and windows were packed with women and children; and he drew closer and closer to the she-wolf who, with pounding heart, was waiting to throw herself at the glutton's neck with the same avidity that a man burning with fever flings himself on a bucket of cold water. She plunged furiously through the crowd, driving straight for him, shouting loudly to clear the path, her hair flying and her hands beating, and embracing him with all her might, announced: "I am your wife!" The punishment halted, the people trod on each other's heels, and then a noise arose, a noise so loud it seemed that all the bells in the world were ringing, sounding the fire alarm, the call to arms, to the sermon, and the holiday. When the news reached the mayor, he was forced to uphold the laws of the region; and so the traitor was freed and handed over to the whore, who hanged him on her gibbet. ANTONIAaWe are at the world's end.aa NANNAaHa ha ha!aa ANTONIAaWhat are you laughing at?aa NANNAI'm laughing at that woman who turned Lutheran toaaa live with him in the prison and remained there with three stabs to the heart: the first at seeing him get out, the second at thinking he would be hanged, and the last at learning that another woman had come into possession of her castle, her city, and her estate. ANTONIAaGod was good to the Almighty when he punishedaa her with those three stabs. NANNAaNow, sister, listen to another tale.aa ANTONIAaGladly.aa NANNAaThere was once a certain prim little woman, good-aa looking but without grace, not even good-looking but showy, the sort that purses her lips and wrinkles her brow at everything: a marten, a gossip, a smeller-out of stenches, the greatest pest ever to be born. She used to criticize all eyes, all foreheads, all eyelashes, all noses, all mouths, and all the faces she ever saw, nor did she ever see teeth which did not seem to her black, scraggly, and long. In her view, not a woman alive knew how to speak or how to walk, and all women were so badly shaped that their dresses hung about them in billows.

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Whenever she saw a man staring at one of them, she would say: "She is as God wished, and it becomes clearer every day. Who would ever have thought it? I must admit it." She criticized the women who hung out the windows as much as those who didn't. She had made herself the corrector of everyone's faults, and everyone ran from her, like bad luck itself. When she went to Mass, even the incense stunk in her nostrils, and pushing out her snout, she would say: "How cleanly swept this church is, how beautifully decked out and decorated!" Then she would take a whiff at each altar as she was reciting the Our Fathers, and to each she would give a piece of her mind. "Look at those altar cloths! Those candelabra! Those altar steps!" While the priest was reading the Gospels she refused to rise like the others but shook her head in a certain fashion, as if the priest weren't saying a word; and when the host was elevated, she said that it wasn't made of good wheat, and dipping the tip of her finger in the holy water to make the sign of the cross clumsily on her forehead, she would say: "What a curse that they don't ever change it." And no matter how many men she met, she twisted her mug at all of them and snorted: "Looks like a capon!" "Has thin, scraggy legs!" "What ugly feet!" "How clumsy!" "What a specter!" "A face like a ghost!" "A dog's complexion!" But this witch, who wished that what she felt other women lacked people would praise her for possessing, one day laid eyes on a lay monk who, with a sack all riddled with holes on his back and a cudgel in his hand, came to beg bread at her door. And since she felt that he was well built, a young man without worries and with a strong back, she fell in love with him. And declaring that charity should come straight from the mistress' hand, not from the servants', she would run down personally to give it to the lay monk. When her husband said: "Let the maid give it to him," she argued with him for an hour as to what real alms-giving was, and the difference between giving it with her own hand and that of others. She soon became intimate with the soup eater, who often brought her the Agnus Dei and the names of Jesus embroidered in saffron, and they reached an agreement. ANTONIA What did she agree to? NANNAaTo run away to the convent.aa ANTONIAaHow?aa [ 84 ]

NANNAaDressed as a novice monk. And to put the blame onaa her husband, so that it might seem she had an excuse for running away, one day she tried to prove to him that the feast of Our Lady in August fell on the sixteenth of the month; and she worked him up to such a rage that he clutched her by the throat and would have twisted it off like a chicken's if her mother hadn't pulled her out of his hands. ANTON IAaWhat an obstinate woman!aa NANNAa.As soon as she got to her feet, she began to shout:aa "I've understood you. Enough! enough! You won't get away with this. My brothers shall hear of it, yes they shall. So you beat up a woman, eh? Try it with a man and then come and brag to me about it. But I won't stand for it any more; no, I won't stand for it, and I'm going to stick myself in a convent. I'd rather graze on grass than be stoned by you. I may even drown myself in a shithouse, because if I don't see you again, I'll die happy." So, sobbing and sighing, she sat down with her head between her knees and refused to eat and would have remained in that position till morning if her mother hadn't taken her to sleep with her, pulling her away twice from her husband, who wanted to tear her apart. But now let us get to the monk, who was about thirty, all muscle, all passion, big, bony, swarthy, forever cheerful, and everybody's friend. The next day he came for alms, first making sure that the husband was gone and then knocking, with the cry: "Give the monks bread," and as usual the charitable woman hastened to him and they agreed to run away the next morning at dawn, and Fra Fazio—for that was his name—left. The next day, with a monk's cloak on his arm, he showed up at her door an hour before daybreak; he arrived even before the baker knocked at it, shouting as he knocked: "Prepare the dough now!" Madame Disgusted-at-Everything got up quickly, saying to herself: "Whoever plunges his hands in his own crap doesn't dirty them," and giving a kick at the maid's door with "Get up and get a move on," she went downstairs, opened the door, and let Brother Soup-Sopper in. Then, taking off a dress she had hastily put on and laying it on the rim of the well together with her slippers, she donned the monk's robe and, pulling the door to so it closed, left without being seen for the monastery; and after the lay brother led her to his little cell, he fed her the oats. First he laid her on an old pilgrim's robe covered by two

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thick, narrow bedsheets which formed a pallet over the straw—and that pilgrim's robe stank of filth just as the pilgrim's cowl smelled of bedbugs. Then huffing, puffing, and heaving violently, lifting his cloak in front, he resembled the storms that come at the end of August and bring on the rain, and just as the storm tosses and shakes the olive, cherry, and laurel trees, so the monk, with the fury of his humping, shook that tiny cell till it almost collapsed, knocking down a cheap Madonna, with a candlestub at its foot, that hung above the bed. And all the while she was straining and laboring, yowling like a scratched alley cat. And at length our good friend, who was grinding the harvest, poured the water on the mill wheel. ANTONIAaYou mean "the oil." Speak precisely, because talk-aa ing the other day with the mother of Mamma-Won't-Do-It, I was scolded by her for having said "verbigrazia," "moan," "gush forth," and "startled." NANNAaBut why?aa ANTONIAaBecause she claims that she has discovered a newaa way of speaking, and her daughter is the mistress of it. NANNAaHow's that, a new way of speaking? Who taught itaa to her? ANTONIAaHer mother, I say, and she mocks at anyone whoaa does not talk in accordance with the rules. She says that one should say "aperture" and not "window," "portal" and not '"door," "countenance" and not "face," "heart" and not "ticker," "harvests" and not "crops," "knocks" and not "bangs," "hoax" and not "jape," and as you've told me, I don't know how many times, she has an eye like a hawk. And so far as I can see, the followers of this school want us to put the prick in the back of the book, not the front—which would be a gentlemanly way to do it. NANNAaFor those who like it. As for me, I want to put itaa where I was taught by the cunt that shit me out. And I want to say "gab" and not "chat," "hogwash" and not "inanity"—if for nothing else, to talk as they do in my home town. But let's return to the lay brother. He did it twice to Madame Blame-All, without even taking his beak out of the pool. ANTONIAaJust to spite me.aa NANNAaWhen he had completed his services, he locked heraa [ 86 ]

in his cell, first stuffing her under the bed to take precautions against whatever might befall; and since he had to scrounge some flour for the hosts, he roamed for some time through the other streets, but finally let his feet lead him to the street of Madame Merde, just to find out what had happened since he had taken her away. No sooner did he appear than he heard a great commotion in her house, and suddenly the maids and the mother were both screaming from the windows: "Grapples! Grapples!" and "Ropes! Ropes!" ANT ONI A Why grapples and ropes? NANNAaBecause after noticing that the scatter-brain wasn'taa there, and after calling her softly and loudly, upstairs and down, above and below, here, there, and everywhere, they had seen the slippers and dress at the side of the well and were sure she had thrown herself in it. So her mother began to scream: "Get help! Run!" The whole district came rushing out to fish up the woman who had taken fortune by the forelock. And it would have wrenched your heart to see the poor old woman fling down the grapple, crying: "Grab hold of it, my darling daughter, my sweet daughter, I'm your good mama, your lovely mama. . . . Oh, that thief! that scoundrel! that Judas Iscariot!" but not a damn thing did she fish up. ANTONIAaSay "nothing," if you want to speak in the modernaa style. NANNAaShe fished up nothing and dropped the grapple likeaa a madwoman, and with her hands crossed over her breast, staring up at the sky, she wailed: "Do you think it honest, O Lord, that a daughter so fashioned, so wise, so alluring, without a single vice, should end like this ? My prayers and my charities have declared war on me! May I die if I ever light another candle again." Then she caught sight of the loutish friar, who had mingled with the crowd and, hearing her lament, was just pursing his mouth to laugh, and not suspecting anything about her daughter, thinking he had come for flour, she seized him by his scapular, dragged him through the door, and almost revenged herself on God, who had let her daughter throw herself in the well. "Plate-licker," she screamed; "broth-face, mandragolaplanter, lasagne-gorger, vintage-guzzler, fart-shooter, pig-scratcher, soup-slaughterer, Lent-breaker"—and many other epithets that made all the people there piss in their pants with laughter. It was also a [ 87 ]

gj^eat delight to hear the opinions of the company as to whether the daughter would be pulled up from the bottom of the well. Some old witches declared that they remembered when the well was dug and that it had so many tunnels and holes running in all directions that she had certainly wound up in one of them. On hearing this, the mother lifted another lament, crying: "Alas, my daughter, you will die of hunger down there and I shall no longer see you revive the earth with your charms, your beauties, your virtues." She promised the entire world to anyone who wanted to dive down into the well for her, but they were all frightened by those tunnels the old woman mentioned and were afraid of getting lost in them. So they turned their backs without replying, and left with the Lord's blessing. ANTONIAaAnd what happened to her husband?aa NANNAaHe behaved like a lost cat in the wrong house whoseaa tail has been roasted. He didn't even have the nerve to show himself, for the talk all over was that his wife had drowned herself due to his nasty behavior, and he was also afraid that his mother-in-law might leap at his face and scratch his eyes out with her claws. But he couldn't always manage to avoid her, and she would pounce on him and scream: "Traitor, are you satisfied now? Your drinking bouts, your gambling, and your whoring have drowned my daughter and my consolation! But wear the crucifix on your breast—wear it, I say— because I intend to have you chopped into little pieces, mouthfuls, tidbits! Wait, wait, go by any path you wish—you'll get your punishment. You shall be treated as you deserve—criminal, murderer, enemy of all good things!" The poor man looked like one of those frightened women who, when the musket bangs, stuff their fingers in their ears so as not to hear the roar. And letting her exhaust herself spitting poison, he shut himself in his room and thought a great deal about his wife, for the way she had ended seemed strange to him. And that's how matters stood. The mad mother of the irritating young wife adorned the well like an altar; all the paintings she had in the house were hung up around it, ten years' worth of holy candles were burnt away, and every morning she stood next to it and said a rosary for her daughter's soul. ANTONIAaWhat did the lay brother do after being trapped byaa his scapular?

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NANNAaHe returned to his cell, flushed the she-fox out fromaa under the bed, and told her the whole story; and they laughed the sort of laugh people do at the buffooneries of our good Maestro Andrea of Strascino, may God give peace to his soul. ANTONIAaCertainly death was wrong to rob him from Rome,aa which has been left a widower and no longer knows carnivals, festivals, pleasant entertainments, country outings, nor any other pastimes. NANNAaIt would be as you say if Rome were to lose Rosso,aa who performs miracles with his jests. But I was talking about the lay brother, who lasted for a whole month, night and day, marching a good seven, eight, nine, or ten miles at a stretch and always entered the Valley of Jehosophat erect, undaunted, and vigorous. ANTONIAaWhat did he give her to eat?aa NANNAaWhatever he wished because, being the monastery'saa provisioner, he went to the peasants' farmyards, kitchens, and houses, bringing back a loaded donkey three times a week, not to speak of firewood and bread for the monks and oil for the lamps; and since he purveyed everything, he wa's master of everything. Then, liking to work at the lathe, he made good money by fashioning children's tops, pestles, and spindles for Viterbo flax, and got a tenth of a percent for every candle burnt in the cemetery on the morning of All Souls' Day; and the cooks also gave him the chickens' heads, feet, and innards. Now this idol of the wise woman, who had put her body in paradise while caring as much about her soul as we care about the Guelphs and Ghibellines, awakened the gardener's suspicions by picking certain salad greens that usually were not eaten; and the gardener, watching carefully what he did and seeing him looking thin and haggard, his eyes sunken, staggering when he walked, and always with a fresh egg in his hand, said to himself: "There's something up." So he said a word to the bell ringer, the bell ringer mentioned it to the cook, the cook to the sacristan, the sacristan to the prior, the prior to the provincial, and the provincial to the general. A spy was set to watch his cell and tell them when he went out on his rounds. Then they opened it with a skeleton key and found the woman mourned for as dead by her mother. She went mad when she heard them bark: "Come out of there!" and stepped forth with the face a witch makes when they set fire to the pyre of wood on which [ 89 ]

she has been bound to be burnt alive. The monks didn't turn a hair and summoned the lay brother, who just then had returned from outside, tied him up, and marked him out for something worse than eating scraps under the table with the cats. They threw him into a dark dungeon, which was awash with a foot of water, and fed him a slice of bran bread in the morning and another in the evening, chased down with a glass of vinegar water and half a clove of garlic. Then they argued about what they should do with the woman, one monk saying: "Let's bury her alive," another monk: "Let them die in the dungeon together," while more compassionate monks urged: "Give her back to her family." But there was one wise monk who said: "Let us enjoy her for a few days; then God will inspire us." At this proposal all the young louts laughed and the older men too, while the graybeards leered and grinned. In the end they decided to determine how many roosters would be able to satisfy this hen. The sentence was then handed down and the parsnip-gobbler couldn't restrain a giggle on hearing that she was to be the hen for such a flock of roosters. When the hour of silence came, the general spoke to her with his hands; and then the provincial, then the prior, and so from hand to hand she traveled all the way down to the bell ringer and the gardener, all of whom climbed her walnut tree and shook it so mightily that she began to glow with contentment; and so for two days in a row these sparrows did nothing but fly in and out of the hay loft. A few days later the dungeon door was opened, and the prisoner, having gotten out of hell, forgave them all, put his property in the common pot, and enjoyed it together with the fathers. And would you believe it—she stood up for; an entire year under all that reaming and grinding ? ANT ONI A And why shouldn't I believe it? NANNAaShe would have lived there forever if she hadn't beenaa impregnated and given birth to a dog-headed monster, which rather annoyed the monks. ANTON IA Annoyed, but why? NANNAaBecause her trap door gaped so wide after deliveringaa the monster that it was a dreadful thing to see. The monks then made some necromantic calculations and discovered that the watchdog in the garden had had dealings with her. [ 90 ]

ANTONIAaIs that possible?aa NANNAaI sell it to you as I bought from the entire populace,aa who saw the monster dead after the monks had murdered it. ANTONIAaAnd what was done with the filthy trollop afteraa she gave birth ? NANNAaShe was handed over to her husband, or more ac-aa curately, to her mother, and with the neatest trick imaginable. ANTONIAaTell me about it.aa NANNAaA friar who exorcised evil spirits and had ampullaeaa full of them climbed up certain grim garden walls and onto the roof of this convent-drainer's house, getting so much, assistance from the devil that one night he got into the house itself. He waited until they were all asleep and then went to the room of the mother, who was still wailing and calling to her blessed daughter. When the friar heard her moan: "Where are you now?" counterfeiting the slut's voice, he replied: "In a safe place, and I am alive thanks to the rosaries you have said at the well, where I triumph in the bosom of your prayers. Two days from now you will see me fatter and healthier than ever." Then, leaving her dumbfounded, he departed. Climbing down the way he had come up, he went to the convent and recounted his hoax to the monks, who sent for their common wife. In the name of the convent the prior loaded her down twice with overpowering thanks for her generosity, asking her forgiveness for not having done everything in his power to cheer her up. Then he dressed her in a white gown, puut a wreath of olive twigs on her head, placed a palm branch in her hand, and sent her two hours before daybreak to her house accompanied by the friar who had announced her arrival to her mother, who, resurrected by the fake vision and drooling with anticipation, was awaiting the devourer of boneless meat. The latter, while leaving traces of herself by the well, had taken,with her the key to the rear gate. And this is how she entered the house and took leave of the necromantic friar, though offering him a prime slice of her flesh beforehand. She then sat down on the well, and soon day broke. The maid got up and went to fetch water to put the food on the fire, saw her mistress dressed like St. Ursula in the painting, and shouted: "A miracle! a miracle!" The mother, who knew her daughter was bound to cause a miracle, flew down the stairs and flung herself on her neck [ 91 ]

so gently that the trollop was almost thrown down the well for real. A fantastic tumult ensued; mobs rushed to the site of the miracle, as people do when one of these unfrocked priests makes a crucifix or a madonna cry. But don't think her husband delayed showing up for fear of the bawling out he would get from the old lady. In fact, he threw himself at his wife's feet and, unable to say the miserere because of the tears that streamed from his eyes, he stretched out his arms as though receiving the stigmata. She kissed him, lifted him to his feet, and told him how she had lived in the well, giving it to be understood that both the sister of the Sybil of Norcia and the aunt of the Fata Morgana resided down there. This information threw a lot of people into a dither, and many of them wanted to leap down into the well of their own free will. But what else do you want to know ? The well became so famous that they set an iron grate around it. And every woman who had an angry husband drank its water, and, so it seemed, it helped them a lot. So all the women about to be married began to pray to it, begging the fairy in the well to bring them good luck. In a year's time they set more candles, clothes, hairshirts, and holy images around this well than can be found on the sepulcher of Blessed St. Lena of the Oil from Bologna. ANTONIAaShe was another nut.aa NANNAaDon't take her name in vain or you'll be excommuni-aa cated. I'm sure some Cardinal has collected money to have her canonized. It is certainly true that she was the consort of the monk who purified the followers of the Blessed Vastalla. ANTONIAaMay he live for a hundred years!aa NANNAa1 could go on forever about married women, but Iaa don't intend to. So I'll tell you about a woman with the handsomest husband in the world, who fell in love with one of those vagabonds who convert themselves into a store, bearing the dry goods and merchandise in front of them on a board supported by a belt that hangs from their neck, and shouting: "Get your beautiful tags, needles, pins, thimbles, mirrors, combs, and scissors." They haggle all the time with this idle housewife or that, bartering some of their oils, soaps, and wild nutmegs for bread, rags, and old shoes, and always getting a few coins to boot. This woman had become so enamored of him that [ 92 ]

she trampled on her honor and even brought him all her worldly goods. So the tatterdemalion changed his apparel, gave himself the airs of a knight, and began to hobnob with the nobility. In eight days people addressed him as "sir," while he deserved a crown. ANT ONI A Why? NANNAaBecause he mistreated his moneybag the way a manaa mistreats a common hussy. Not only did he often welcome her with a club, but he also bragged in public about what he did to her in private. ANTON IA Very good! NANNAaaaBut all these tales I have told you are mere bagatelles. The really frightful things occur among the great ladies and gentlemen.. If it weren't that I would be called an evil gossip, I could tell you about the ladies who give themselves to the steward, the footman, the groom, the cook, and the scullion. ANTON IA Oh, come now! NANNAaI'm satisfied if you believe me.aa ANTONIAaCome now, I say.aa NANNAaWell, Antonia, you've misunderstood me.aa ANTONIAAI certainly have.AA NANNAABut remember that the stories I told you about theAA nuns were what I saw only in a few days and in a single convent, and the stories about married women are only part of what I saw and heard in a single town. Now just imagine the stories that could be told of the deeds of all the nuns in Christendom and all the wives in all the cities of the world! ANTONIAAIs it possible that the good ones are as you say aboutAA coins: "Be wise and take them on faith"? NANNAAThey are.AA ANTONIAAEven Franciscans?AA NANNAAI'm not talking about them; in fact I say to you thatAA the prayers they offer for the depraved nuns are the reason the devil does not gulp them down fully dressed and with their shoes on, and that their virginity is as fragrant as the whoredom of the others stinks; and the Lord God Almighty is by their side day and night, just as the devil is with the other nuns, whether awake or asleep. And [ 93 ]

woe to us if there weren't the prayers of those little saints, woe to us, woe to us (I say it three times over). It is quite true that those few good nuns among the cloistered are so perfect that we should burn candles at their feet as we do at the feet of the Blessed Tison. ANTONIAAYou are right and do not speak wildly.AA NANNAAThere are also some very good wives, who wouldAA rather be flayed alive like St. Bartholomew than let anyone touch their little finger. ANTONIAAThis also pleases me; and if you take into accountAA the poverty in which we women are born, that is reason enough that we do whatever men ask of us, not that we are bad, as people believe. NANNAAYou don't understand me. I tell you: we are born ofAA the flesh and in the flesh we die; the prick makes us, and the prick destroys us. And to prove that you are wrong, I remind you of the conduct of the ladies who have pearls, necklaces, and rings to throw away and who behave like that beggar woman who would rather find a stud-lover on the road to Ravenna than a polished diamond. For each woman pleased with her husband there are thousands disgusted with theirs; what's more, it is obvious that for every two people who make their bread at home, there are seven hundred who want the baker's because it is whiter. ANTONIAA1 give you the'victory.A NANNAAAnd I accept it. Now let's sum up: feminine chastityAA is like a glass decanter which, no matter how carefully you handle it, finally slips out of your fingers when you least expect it and is shattered completely. If you don't keep it locked up in a chest, it is impossible to keep it whole; and the woman who does can be considered a miracle, like glass that falls and doesn't break. ANTONIAAExcellent logic.AA NANNAATo conclude: once I had seen and understood the livesAA of wives, in order to keep my end up, I began to satisfy all my passing whims and desires, doing it with all sorts, from porters to great lords, with especial favor extended to the religious orders—friars, monks, and priests. And I reveled in the fact that not only did my husband know about it but that he saw it, too. Yet I felt I heard people all around me whispering: "That woman is on the right track; she's giving him just what he deserves." Once when he tried to re[ 94 ]

prove me for it, I dug my claws into his head and ripped off all his hair, treating him as brutally as if I had brought him a mountain of gold in my dowry. "Who do you think you're talking to, eh?" I shrieked. "Wretched drunk!" And I kept .after him, berating him so vilely that I shook him out of his usual amble and made him fly into a fury. ANTONIAANanna, don't you know what they say ? If you wantAA to make a man brave, you have to curse him. NANNAAWell, that's how he became brave, for I followedAA your recipe. So, after a thousand cuckoldries which he witnessed with his own eyes, swallowing them all down as someone swallows a burning mouthful, one day he found a beggar mounted on me, and that he couldn't swallow. He lunged at my face to break it with his fists. I slipped out from under the wine press and, angry at having the water I was drinking fouled, pulled out a dagger, drove it into his left breast, and his pulse stopped beating. ANTONIAAMay God forgive him!AA NANNAAWhen my mother heard about it she made me flee,AA sold everything in the house, and she brought me here to Rome. What happened as a result of bringing me here you shall learn tomorrow, because today I'm through telling stories. So let's get up and leave. After all this talk, I'm not only thirsty but so hungry I can scarcely see. ANTONIAAI'm up. Oh, I have a crarnp in my right foot.AA NANNAASign the cross on it with some spit and it'll go away.AA ANTONIAAThere, I've done it.AA NANNAADid it help?AA ANTONIAAYes, it's gone, it's really gone.AA NANNAAWell, let's start strolling home, where you'll stay to-A night and tomorrow night, too. ANTONIAAAI'll put this with my other obligations to you. After saying this, Nanna opened the gate of the vineyard and without another word started walking home. They reached it just in time, for the Sun was pulling on his boots to gallop post-haste to the Antipodes, which awaited him like dazed chickens; and the grasshoppers, hushed by his departure, handed over their task to the crickets, who were more than game. Now the day looked like a bank[ 95 ]

rupt merchant desperately searching for a church to run into and hide. Already the screech owls and bats, those parrots of darkness, flocked to Dame Night, who, blindfolded and speechless, grave and melancholy, walked with the step of a widowed matron garbed in black and sighing for her husband, who had died the month before. Meanwhile Our Lady the Moon, who makes astrologers rave, sidled out on the stage, wearing a mask and with a piece of a sheet wrapped around her. The stars, which keep their heads or don't keep them, together with their good and bad companions, were gilded with fire by the hand of the goldsmith Master Apollo and appeared at the window—by ones, twos, threes, and fours, then by fifties, hundreds, and thousands. They resembled roses which at dawn open one by one when the Poet's Advocate sends down his ray of light and all go on display. Or I would compare them to an army in the field that enters a city in search of quarters; first the soldiers arrive in tens and twenties, and then behold! a multitude is suddenly scattered through all the houses. (But perhaps this comparison won't be liked; for nowadays unless the fragrance of roses, violets, and fragrant herbs has been added, people do not like the taste of soup.) In any case, Nanna and Antonia, having arrived where they had to arrive and done what they had to do, went off to rest until the next day. And so ends the second day.

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3 THE LAST DAY OF ARETINO'S CONVERSATIONS,

CAPRICIOUS

IN WHICH NANNA TELLS

ANTONIA ABOUT THE LIFE OF THE WHORES.

Day was just breaking when the two women got out of bed. They put some food prepared the night before in a large wicker hamper, set it on the maid's head, and sent her ahead, carrying in her hand a shaggy bottle of Corso wine. Antonia clutched under her arm a tablecloth and three napkins, so they could eat the food they were taking to the vineyard in the proper manner. When they got there, Antonia spread the cloth over a stone table that stood beneath a pergola with a well close by, and the good maid opened the hamper, first taking out the salt and setting it on the table, then laying out the napkins and the knives. When the Sun had revealed himself to everyone, to avoid having him eat together with them, they hurried to finish the meal, toying at the end with half a butt of mozzarella cheese. Then they let the maid stuff herself with the leftovers, even the wine and cheese, though beforehand Nanna ordered her to be sure to put everything away. The two women then sauntered twice around the vineyard, and after the stroll Nanna sat down with Antonia at the same spot where they had sat on the days before. After a slight pause Antonia said to Nanna: "As I dressed this morning I thought how splendid it would be if someone were to write down all your stories and tell the Jife of priests, monks, and laymen so that the women you mention could hear and laugh at them, in the same way these men laugh at us who, just to appear wise, provide them with so many criticisms of ourselves. I swear that I can hear the stories fight now—/ don't know [ 97 ]

who's writing them down, but my ears are buzzing, so it must be true." NANNAAIt's bound to be. But let's come to how my motherA brought me to Rome. , ANTONIAAYes, let's.A NANNAAIf I remember rightly, we got to Rome on the eve ofAA St. Peter's feast day, and God knows I enjoyed the illuminations and the fireworks shooting up from Castel Sant'Angelo, a regular bombardment. Then I heard them play the bagpipes and saw the great crowd packing the streets of the Ponte, Borgo, and Banchi districts. ANTONIAAWhere did you stay the first night ?A NANNAAIn Torre di Nona, in a rented room all covered withA drapes. We had been living there for eight days when the landlady, who was very fond of me because I looked so lovely, passed the word on to a courtier. The very next day you should have seen all the men who walked by, faltering like reined-in horses, staring at our building and cursing my mother, who wouldn't let them see me as they wished. I stood behind a shutter, and even when I opened it, peeping out for an instant, I would bang it closed immediately. Though I was certainly pretty, those lightning glimpses of my charms made me even more alluring; all this byplay only intensified their craving to see me. Soon the talk all over Rome was about this strange young woman who had just come to town; and since men always love new things, as you know, a whole procession of them rushed to get a look at me. They rapped at the door so often that the landlady never got a moment's rest. You can be sure that they promised her the moon if she would only hand me over to them, and that my wise mother (who taught me all I have done, all I am doing, and all I shall ever do in the future) wouldn't listen to a word of it. "So you think I'm one of those women, do you?" she cried. "God wouldn't like to see my daughter ruined. I come from noble stock, I'll have you know, and even if we've had our bad times,- we've got enough left, thank God, so we can still manage." Of course such remarks only served to increase my reputation as a beauty. Have you ever seen a sparrow perching at a window of a granary? He pecks up ten grains of wheat and flits ofT; then, after staying away for a while, he comes back to the booty with two more sparrows, flies off again, and returns with four, [ 98 ]

then ten, then thirty, and finally a huge flock. That's just how my panting suitors swarmed around my house, trying to poke their beaks into my granary, while all the time I, who couldn't get my fill of watching these courtiers, almost went blind squinting through the slits in the shutter, staring at the elegant spectacle of all those noblemen in their velvet and satin capes, gold chains around their necks, some mounted on horses that glistened like mirrors, gliding by as soft as silk with their servants at the stirrups, in which they put only the tips of their boots, holding their pocket Pecrarchs and reciting verses with affected nods and grimaces. Occasionally one of my suitors would halt in front of the window where I was peeping and say: "Lady, would you be so murderous as to allow so many of your servants to die?" At this I would push the shutter open a trifle and then let it fall back, give a loud snicker and run inside. And they'd shout: "I kiss your lady's hand," or: "I swear to God, you are terribly cruel!" and then they would leave. ANTONIAAToday I'm hearing lovely things.AA NANNAAWell, that's how matters stood when one day my saga-A cious mother decided to put me on display, though pretending that it was all by accident. She dressed me in a purple satin gown, neat and simple, without sleeves, and braided my hair in a circle around my head so you would have sworn that it wasn't hair but a silken skein laced with threads of gold. ANTONIAAAnd why did she dress you without sleeves?A NANNAASo I could show off my arms, which were white asA snowflakes. After having made me wash in her own toilet water, which was rather pungent, yet taking good care not to smear my face with the slightest touch of cosmetics, she had me stand at the window just when the bulk of the courtiers was going by. When I appeared, you would have thought that the star had shone in the eyes of the Magi, every one of those men seemed so dazzled and delighted by the sight of me. They let their reins fall on their horses' necks and gazed at me with rapture, as prisoners gaze at a ray of sunlight. Lifting their heads and staring at me spellbound, they all looked like those little beasts that come from the other end of the world and live on air.

ANTONIAAYou mean chameleons?A NANNAAThat's right. They impregnated me with their stares,A [ 99 ]

precisely like those birds that look like sparrows but aren't impregnate the clouds with their feathers. ANTONIAANighthawks?A NANNAABy heavens, you're right—nighthawks.A ANTONIAAAnd while they were all ogling you, what were youA doing ? NANNAA1 affected the modesty of a nun, stared straight at themA with the self-confidence of a wife, and all the while made the gestures of a whore. ANTONIAAMarvelous!A NANNAAAfter I had been on show for about three-quarters ofAA an hour, just as they started cracking jokes and getting witty, my mother came to the window, let herself be seen for a moment as though to say: "This is my daughter," and made me leave. So they were left gaping and gasping like fish brought to shore by the scoop of a net, flopping about like barbels and carp suddenly hauled out of the water. That very night we heard the door being knocked. The landlady went down, and my mother sneaked up behind her to hear what the man who knocked had to say. The man, whose face was wrapped in his mantle, asked: "Who is the girl who stood at the window?" "The daughter of a noblewoman from another city," the landlady answered, "and from what I can gather, her father was killed in the wars between the Guelphs and Ghibellines. So the poor woman fled to Rome with the few things she could snatch up when she escaped." My mother had rehearsed her in advance in all these little fibs. ANTONIAAHow clever!A NANNAAOn hearing this, the disguised man said: "Is it possibleA to speak to this noble lady?" "Absolutely not," the landlady retorted. "She refuses to talk to anyone." Then, in a whisper, he asked her whether I was a virgin. "A virgin to the marrow," she replied. "All she ever does is chew on Hail Marys." "She who chews Hail Marys will spit out Our Fathers," he retorted, and began presumptuously to mount the stairs. But she was quick to stop that. Then the courtier said: "Do me at least this kindness. Tell the lady that when she agrees to talk to a man, you will give her such a wonderful gift that she will bless you for the rest of her days." She assured him that [ 100 ]

she would and bid him goodnight. Then she went upstairs, though taking her good time about it, and finally came to see us. "You can bet on it," she said. "Nobody knows better than drunks where to find good red wine. It seems that they've picked up your daughter's scent; these courtier-setters flush out the quail right away. I tell you this because one of them has been here in person and asked me to arrange a meeting with you." "No, no!" my mother cried. "That's out." The landlady, who had a serpentine tongue, said: "The first mark of a prudent woman is knowing how to grab her good luck, whenever God happens to send it. He's a man who can load you down with gold." Adding: "Think it over," she left..The next morning she gave her argument further force with the help of a well-laden table, and my mother, being a good buyer of advice and a shrewd husbander of her own interests, wound up by coming around to her point of view. So she promised to listen to our friend, who imagined that he was going to unpack pure French wool when he slept with me. He was sent for, and after swearing a thousand oaths and offering a thousand assurances, he put a down payment on my virginity, promising me everything from Rome to its opposite. ANT ONI A Wonderful! NANNAANot to prolong the story, the agreed-upon night ar-A rived. After finishing a supper which could have passed for a banquet and of which I tasted less than ten bites, chewing those with a prim, pursed mouth, and drinking only half a glass of watered-down wine in twenty dainty sips, without a word I allowed myself to be led to the landlady's bedroom, which she had let us use for the night in exchange for the glint of a ducat. I had scarcely stepped into it when the gentleman locked the door, not even wanting anyone to help him undress; in fact he quickly did it himself, jumped into bed, and tried to tame me with the sweetest line of gab in this world. "I shall do and give you so much," he kept saying, "that you won't have to envy the greatest courtesan in Rome." Finding it unbearable that I took so long to get into bed with him, he jumped out and yanked my stockings off my legs, though I put up a stiff fight. He got back into bed again; and when I did too, he turned to the wall so I wouldn't have the embarrassment of being seen in my shift. Then he shouted at me: "Don't do it! Don't do it!" but I doused the lamp anyway. When at [ 101 ]

last I was settled in bed, he swooped down on me with the avidity of a mother throwing herself on her son whom she has mistakenly mourned as dead. That's how he kissed me too, hugging me tightly in his arms. I had cupped my hands over my harp, which was already very well tuned, wriggling and squirming to show that I was yielding to him against my will; and though I even allowed him to touch my organ, when he tried to ram his spindle into my distaff I balked. "My soul, my hope," he begged, "don't move around so; lie still. If I hurt you, you can kill me." And that's how it went: I standing my ground, he begging and pleading, and as he did, giving me sly pokes with his instrument that always went wild, until- he was exhausted, shattered. Finally, laying his weapon in my hand, he said: "Go ahead and put it in yourself. I won't move a muscle." Almost weeping, I shrieked: "What is this huge thing? Do other men have such enormous things? So you want to split me in half with it, do you?" After I got this off my chest, I lay still for a bit, and just when he was nearly inside of me, I jerked away and left him high and dry, all dripping with passion. Now he became desperate and his pleadings turned into threats, while he continued to jab it savagely at my middle. "I swear by my body," he gasped, "and by my blood, I'll split your throat, I'll strangle you." And he clutched my throat and squeezed, but gently. Then he began pleading again, and so fervently that I took the position he wanted me to; but just as he was thrusting his bread-shovel into my oven, I jolted him off again. That did it: he snatched his nightgown to put it on again and get out of bed; he was completely, fed up. "Come," I cooed. "Corne back." Hearing these words, his rage simmered down. He kissed me quite happily and said: "You won't feel it any more than the bite of a fly. You'll see how true it is. Watch how softly I do it." So at last I let him put a third of his bean into my pod; then I left him in the lurch. He went berserk, huddled at the side of the bed, pushing his head forward and his ass up in the air, bending his legs under him, and the lust which he had wanted me to satisfy he relieved with his own hand. After doing to himself what he had wanted to do to me, he got up, dressed, and began pacing up and down the room until the night, which I had forced him to spend like sparrowhawk, came to an end, leaving him with a bitter look on his face. In fact he looked like a gambler who had lost all his [ 102]

money and his sleep besides. And cursing as only a man can curse who has been deserted by his mistress, he opened the window of the room and, leaning on the sill with his hand on his chin, gazed at the Tiber, which seemed to be laughing at him for the way he had pulled at his bat. All the time that he was brooding I was sleeping. When I opened my eyes and tried to get up, he suddenly jumped on me, and I doubt that necromancers have ever called demons to their aid with so many oaths and conjurations as he directed at me; but it was all as vain as the hopes of exiles. Finally he wanted to narrow it all down to a single kiss, and even that I refused him. And when I heard my mother talking with the landlady, I yelled to her. As she stepped into the room, he began shouting: "What kind of murder is this? They wouldn't have treated me worse in a den of thieves." He continued to shout and scream, and the landlady quieted and comforted him, saying: "Don't you know that it's a hell of a business, trying to do it with a virgin?" In the meantime I dressed and went to my room, leaving him to croak out his complaints to the landlady. The wretch had become as obstinate as a gambler who wants to revenge himself for his losses. He ran out of the house, and in about an hour a tailor sent by him appeared with a length of thin green silk. He took my measurements, cut the cloth, and made me a dress, his client convinced that the next night everything would go as he wished. I accepted the gift, but based myself on my mother's memories who, when she saw the dress, said: "His passion-hammer's pounding. Stand fast. He'll do everything you want: rent a house, buy you furniture, or die trying to get in." Indeed even without her memories, I would have understood what I had to do. Just then I glanced through the window and saw him. I ran to meet him on the stairs, crying: "God only knows the sorrow you gave me when you left without even saying good-bye; but now I'm completely consoled, since you've come back. Even if I must die because of it, I shall do what you wish this very night." His mouth gaped and he hastened to kiss me for speaking in this way, and as he was ordering dinner we made peace and became quite gay. When night came (and I believe it seemed to him as slow in coming as the hour of an appointment given a man who has longed for it for ten years), he also ordered and paid for supper. Then the hour struck, and he went to bed with me again, in the very same bed; and finding me as com[ 103 ]

pliant with his desires as a Jew is to lend money to a person without collateral, he got so angry he couldn't stop himself: he smacked me all over. And I bore it quietly, saying to myself: "You'll pay for this," and forced him to press out the verjuice, going through the same sort of preliminary contortions as the night before. He jumped up after and ran to where my mother was sleeping with the landlady and shouted and threatened for four hours, while she kept saying: "My dear sir, take my word for it, tomorrow night you shall get what you wish. Even if she dies, she'll satisfy you." Then she got out of bed and gave him a taffeta sash twice the. usual length. "Take this," she told him, "and tie her hands with it." The blockhead took it, and after spending his good money again on dinner and supper, went to bed with me for the third time. When he saw that this time I was so stingy with myself that I wouldn't even let him touch me, he got so enraged that he was ready to stab me. I confess that by now I was a little scared, but I had enough presence of mind to turn my behind to him, holding it tightly against his belly. This appetizer redoubled his desire to eat a full meal, and he started to rummage around and probe at me, but I lay firm and stiff, unmoved by his movements, until I felt him slip away. But when he became so presumptuous as to try to push it right inside, I cried: "I think it's time to get up," and sliding adroitly away from his belly, I swung around and looked him straight in the face. He turned me on my back again to count the beams in the ceiling, climbed on top of me, and pushed in less than half of it while I wailed: "It hurts, it hurts!" As he was maintaining this precarious position, he stretched out his hand, pulled out his purse, which he had flattened under the pillow, took out ten ducats and a lot of julios, and putting them in my hand, said: "Here, take them." "No, I won't," I moaned while at the same time I grabbed his tool in my fist and clenched it, permitting him to go no deeper than halfway; and not being able to go any farther, he spat out his soul. ANTON!A Why didn't he tie you up with the sash ? NANNAAHow could a man who was tied up tie me?A ANTONIAAYou speak the Gospel truth.A NANNAABefore we got up, his horse traveled four more timesA to the middle of life's journey. [ 104 ]

ANTONIAAYes, that's what Petrarch says.A NANNAANot at all, Dante.A ANTONIAAWasn't it Petrarch?A NANNAANo, Dante, Dante. Well, quite happy with what heA had accomplished he got up, and I did too; and since he could not stay to eat with me, he sent out for food and returned that evening for supper, which he also paid for. ANTONIAAHold on a minute. Didn't he notice that you hadn'tA bled? NANNAAPrecisely. These courtiers are great judges of virginsA and martyrs! I gave him to understand that my piss was pure blood; and anyway, so long as they can shove it in there, they don't ask for anything more. Now, on the fourth night I let him go all the way, and when he felt that, the brave man almost keeled over in a faint right there on top of me. The next morning my mother came in the room laughing to see us in bed together, gave me her blessing, and greeting his lordship, to whom (as I covered him with the sweetest kisses in my repertory) she said: "Tomorrow I intend to leave Rome. I have just received a letter from my town, where I'm going to return to die among my own people. In any case, Rome is a town for lucky women, not for those who are unlucky. Certainly I would never leave if I could sell our possessions and at least buy a house here. I thought I could rent one, but the money hasn't come and I'm not the sort of woman who can live in other people's rooms." And stopping the words in her mouth, I cried: "Dear Mama, I shall die in two days if I am forced to leave my darling," and I gave him a loving kiss and shed two tiny tears. He sat up in bed at this and declared: "Can't I rent a house for you and furnish it from top to bottom? I swear I can, by your whore and mine!" And then he got my mother to hand him his clothes, skipped out of bed like a man in a great hurry, and rushed out of the house. He returned in the evening bringing a key and two porters loaded down with mattresses, blankets, and pillows, while two other porters carried beds and tables, and behind them came a flock of Jews with tapestries, bedsheets, dishes, pots, buckets, and other kitchen utensils. He looked like a man who was moving. Then he led my mother away with him, set in order a spruce little house on the other side of the Tiber, returned for me, paid the land[ 105 ]

lady's bill, loaded our belongings on a cart, and as night fell, took me to my new house. As long as we remained together, he spent his money like a lord, nobly and well, and I really mean well. Now when I no longer showed up at the window of the lodging house, the men soon discovered where I was, and swarms of my suitors settled around me, like wasps at the gurgle of a basin or bees around flowers. I accepted one of them as a lover on sight, a man who claimed he was dying on my account. I played him along through a procuress of his, and when he gave me all that he possessed, I began to turn a cold shoulder to my first benefactor, who, having borrowed money on all sides and bought the things he gave me on credit, couldn't pay his debts and was excommunicated along with the devils, his name posted up for all to see, as is the Roman custom. And being by this time a hardened whore, I started to cut down my lovemaking as drastically as he had reduced his wealth. Soon after he began to find my door locked, and after bawling me out for all the good he had done me) he left like the ghost in Boccaccio's story, his tail as stiff as it had been at the start. And after I had emptied the second man's purse, I grabbed hold of a third. In brief, I gave myself to all those men who came with the cash, as Gonella says, rented a large house and two maids, and lived as luxuriously as a lady. Now don't think that in studying whoredom I was like one of those scholars who come to the university a gentleman and, at the end of seven years, return home stone broke. No, in three months—less, two or even one—I learned all that can be learned about torturing a man with passion, then making it up to him, then getting him to open his purse, then suddenly leaving him, and above all how to weep laughing and laugh weeping —as I shall explain in its proper place. And I sold my cherry many more times than one of these miserly priests sells his first Mass by putting up a poster in all the churches of town announcing that he's going to chant it. I shall tell you only a small part of the swindles and tricks (for in truth this is what they should be called) I have perpetrated on men. Those I tell are solely the stratagems of my own devising; so if you are a ready calculator, you can roughly tote them up. ANTONIAAI'm not a calculator, and I don't want to be oneA [ 106 ]

either. I believe in you as I do in the four Ember weeks—yes, even three times as much, if I must say so. NANNAAI had one man among my lovers to whom I was underA a rather heavy obligation, though a whore, who has no feelings for anything but told cash, knows neither obligation nor disobligation. Her love is like a termite's: the more it gets to gnaw at, the more the thing becomes dear to it. When he's gone—the hell with him! As I say, I played the most bizarre tricks on this man, and I did so even more the less he was free with his money, though he still gave me something. I slept with him on Fridays, and after he got there my game was to scold him at dinner.

ANTONIAAWhy?A NANNAATo give him a bellyache.A ANTON IAAWhat cruelty!A NANNAAHave it your way. Well, after gobbling down all ofAA the food, I would dawdle around until one or two in the morning before heading for bed; then, when I did get into bed with him, I would give him something to chew on so ungraciously that he would roll off me, curse the day he was baptized, and refuse to do anything. But finally, compelled by his lust, he would sidle up to me, and I would lie there like a log. Then, shaking me furiously, with tears in his eyes, he called me the nastiest names; and when he wanted to mount me, I forced him to hand over all the money he had on him before I would agree to it. ANTONIAAYou were a monster, a she-Nero.A NANNAAAs for these out-of-towners who came to stay in RomeA for eight to ten days and then left, I resorted in their cases to the lowest thievery. I had a couple of ruffians who got me free of charge once out of every hundred times, and whom I used as plug-uglies in the manner I shall describe. Now these people who came to Rome usually wanted to visit not only the antiquities but also the modernities, that is, the ladies, and to act the great lord with them. I was always the first lady visited by these bands, and the man who slept the night with me invariably left behind his clothes: ANTONIAAThe devil you say—his clothes?A NANNAAHis clothes, as you shall hear. The maid would comeA [ 107 ]

into my room in the morning and take away the man's clothes with the excuse of wanting to clean them. She would hide them and then start yelling that they had been stolen. At this the valiant out-oftowner would leap out of bed in his nightshirt, demanding his property and threatening to smash all my furnishings to revenge himself for his loss. I would yell louder than he, screaming: "You'll bust my furnishings? You'll do me violence in my own house? You call me a thief?" When they heard this, my plug-uglies, who were hidden downstairs, would rush up waving their drawn swords and shouting: "What's the trouble, my lady?" They would clutch him by his shirt, and still being in his nightgown, he usually looked like a pilgrim on his way to keep a vow. He would immediately beg my pardon and plead with me to send for a friend or acquaintance of his from whom he could borrow a pair of pants, a surtout, cloak, doublet, and cap. Then he would go on his way, thinking that he had been lucky not to have tasted the "keep-quiet-you." ANT ONI A But how did your heart take it? NANNAAVery well. Because there is no cruelty, no treachery,A and no thievery that can dismay a whore. When the fame of my true character spread about, these men from outside town stopped visiting my house or, if they did come, first took off their valuable clothes and gave them to a servant, who carried them to their lodgings and returned in the morning to dress them. Despite all this, none of them was so cunning as not to leave behind his gloves, belt, or nightcap, because a whore turns everything to her advantage: from a needle to a toothpick, a filbert, a cherry, a tuft of fennel, or the peel of a pear! ANTONIAAYet with all their cunning and craftiness, they canA barely avoid ending up selling candles, and often the French pox acts as the avenger of all those bilked men. Ah yes, it's really a fine sight to see one of those whores when she's no longer able to hide her age behind paint and makeup, pungent toilet waters, ceruse, fine gowns, and broad fans, and must start pawning her necklaces, rings, silken gowns, and headdresses as well as all her other trappings, and has to enter one of the four minor orders, just like young boys who want to become priests. NANNAAWhat do you mean ?A ANTONIAAI mean that first they offer lodgings to the mob andA transform their fleshly ornaments into beds; then, when they fail as [ 108 ]

tavernkeepers, they turn to the Epistle, that is, they become procuresses; after this they go on to the Gospel by taking up the washing of linen; and lastly they attend the Mass at San Rocco on Piazza del Popolo, begging on the steps of St. Peter's, at the Pace church, St. John of Lateran's, and the Consolation, branded with the mark that Job brands on the foreheads of his horses, not to mention some gash or slash made by those customers who lost their patience because of a betrayal of theirs—nor do I forget all those monkeys, parrots, and she-dwarfs that were wrested from their hands and over which they ruled like empresses. NANNAAI never behaved like such women. A whore withoutAA brains is the first to suffer from it. You've got to know how to handle yourself in this world, and not try to set yourself higher than a queen, opening your door only to monsignors and noblemen. There is no higher mountain than the one that's built up little by little and sedulously. Those women are cretins who say that an ox craps as much as a thousand flies; there are many more flies than oxen. And for one great lord who enters your house, presenting you with a lovely gift, there are twenty dead-beats who pay you with promises; yet a thousand men who are not great lords will eventually fill your hands to overflowing. She who disdains those who do not wear velvet is weak in the head, because grand ducats hide under rough clothes, and I know quite well that the best fees are paid by tavernkeepers, cooks, chicken-pickers, water-carriers, middlemen, and Jews. I would place all these types at the head of the table, for they spend much more than they steal. Yes, indeed, we've got to rely on something more substantial than flashy doublets. ANTON IA Why? What's the reason? NANNAAThe reason is that those silken clothes are lined withA corroding debts. The majority of courtiers are like snails; they carry their houses on their backs and have nothing else to their names. What little cash they have goes for oil to slick down their beards and to wash their heads, or to buy a new pair of shoes, though for the one new pair they flaunt they have a thousand that are down on their uppers. And I laugh when I see the miracles they bring to pass with their finery, for all that apparel soon turns into threadbare velvet. ANTONIAAYou're used to seeing these skinflints of today. InA [ 109 ]

my time the men were made of altogether different stuff, because the stinginess of the servants comes from the dishonesty of their masters. But let's get back to your story. NANNAAI knew one man who preened himself on his practicalAA know-how and said (knowing the sort of woman I was): "I shall make her work for me without paying her for it." He came to visit me; he charmed me with the most pleasant flattery imaginable; he played up to me, praised me, waited on me hand and foot. If something slipped out of my hands, he would pick it up with his hat in his hand, kiss it, and give it back to me with such a perfumed bow that I can barely describe it. One day while he was chatting, with me, he suddenly said: "Why can't I get a favor from your ladyship, my mistress, and then die?" I replied: "I am ready to do it; just ask me." "I beg you," he said, "to come and sleep with me tonight, and I want your ladyship to take over a little room of mine, which I am sure will please her." I promised him that I would do so, but only after supper, since a friend was dining with me. He was very happy about this, for he felt that he could brag afterward that he hadn't even paid for my supper. When the time came, I went and slept with him; but afterward I remained awake, and along about dawn he fell asleep and started to snore. Then I left my woman's shift in exchange for his blouse, which I put on: I had already figured out a month before which of his gold jewelry I wanted most. Then my maid arrived and I left the room, and seeing in a corner a pile of all of his linen which he had prepared for the laundress, I set it on my maid's head and returned home with the loot. And when he awoke, you can well imagine what he said. ANTONIAAHe had it coming to him.A NANNAAHe got up and saw my shift stitched on all sides andA at first thought that I had taken his by mistake; but when he couldn't find the pile of dirty linen, he had me charged by the Savella court and they sent him packing like a nitwit. And so I laughed at him, who had wanted to laugh at me. ANTONIAAHis hard luck.A NANNAAListen to this. There was a certain merchant in loveA with me, a good fellow who didn't merely love me but positively adored me. Of course he supported me; and I of course fondled and [ HO]

caressed him, though I could hardly say that I was mad about him. And if anyone ever tells you: "Such-and-such a whore died for soand-so," you can tell him that it's not true. Every once in a while we may get a yen for a big prick, wanting to taste it two or three times, but these whims last as long as the sun in winter and the rain in summer. The truth is, it is impossible for a woman who submits to everyone to fall in love with anyone. ANTONIAAI know this, too.A NANNAANow this merchant slept with me whenever he wantedA to. So to give myself a reputation, a name, and to really get him burning hot, I adroitly went about making him jealous, while he kept on boasting that he wasn't at all. ANTONIAAAnd how did you go about it, Nanna?A NANNAAI bought two pair of partridges and a pheasant, andAA having trained my porter, who was a born crook, though nobody knew him, I got him to knock at my door at dinner time, the merchant being there to dine with me, and then told the maid to open the door. The porter entered with a "Good day to your ladyship," adding: "The Ambassador of Spain begs you to deign to eat this game for his sake; and when it will be convenient for you, he should very much like to say about twenty-five words to you." And I rebuked him and shouted: "Who cares about this ambassador or non-ambassador? Take it away. I don't want it, and don't talk to me about any ambassador. All I want to hear is about this man, who is doing me more good than I merit." Then I kissed the simpleton and turned to the porter, threatening him if he didn't get out at once. "Take them, you fool," the merchant urged me. "You ought to take everything you can." After this he said to the porter: "She will dine on them for his sake"; and then he guffawed a few times; but they weren't heartfelt belly laughs, and afterward he sat there brooding. Giving him a shake, I said: "What are you thinking about ? Not even the Emperor himself, much less his ambassador, could wheedle a kiss out of me, and anyway, I have more esteem for your boots than for a hundred thousand ducats." He thanked me wholeheartedly for this and left to attend to some business of his. In the meantime I told my plug-uglies to come to my house at about ten o'clock, for that was when we usually dined together. They scared up a lewd, nasty fellow, put him wise, and with a candlestub in [ 111 ]

his hand, while the others, all masked, lurked behind him, they had him knock at the street door. Coming upstairs, he greeted me most Spanishly, saying: "Lady, my master, the Ambassador, is coming now to do reverence to your highness." And I replied: "The Ambassador must forgive me, but I am obliged to this ambassador, whom you can see"; and as I said this, I put my hand on my man's shoulder. The youth went out, hung around for a while, then knocked again; and when I refused to open, we heard him cry: "If you do not open the door, my lord shall have it smashed to the ground." At this I planted myself in front of the window and shrieked: "Your lord can murder me, burn me, and ruin me as he wishes; but I love a man who, through his great kindness, has made me what I am, and I am ready, if so it must be, to die for him." In a flash my Pharisees were at the door, and though they were only five or six, they sounded like a thousand. One of them thundered in an imperial voice: "You'll regret this, you old whore! And we'll slaughter that wet hen that's scratching your back, I swear to Dios we shall." "Do what you wish," I retorted, "but that . is not the act of a lord—to try and force himself on someone." As I was getting ready to say something more, my sap tugged at my placket and whispered: "Shh! Don't say another word. Do you want to get me hacked to pieces by these Spaniards?" He pulled me inside and showed me more gratitude for the esteem which I had pretended to show him than prisoners being freed from jail show the guards who release them for the mid-August festival. The very next morning he had a magnificent orange satin gown made for me. And he was so frightened of the Spaniards and so worried over whether the Ambassador was planning to have a brand put on his face, you couldn't have caught him out on the streets after the Ave Maria had tolled, no, not even if you offered him a kingdom. Whatever people were talking about he was sure to blurt out: "I can tell you that my girl knows how to handle these ambassadors!" ANTONIAAWhy did he say that?A NANNAABecause I let him believe that I had left nine of themA in the lurch under the stairs in the middle of January, making them stay there waiting for me till dawn. "On such-and-such a night," I swore to him, "when you were sleeping with me, so-and-so was down in the cellar playing with himself. Besides, on another night there was

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another man who wooed the well in the courtyard." Naturally he was overjoyed. In order to be sure that I wouldn't have any reason to become the Ambassadress, he doubled his presents and told everybody: "I'm in her debt, and that's the whole story." ANTONIAAA beautiful swindle.A NANNAAHere's an even better one. I often slept with a certainA banner-shaker, a captain who, whenever a person would say to him: "Don't trust that woman," would immediately get up on his high horse and reply: "You're talking to me? I had some fun with them when I was in the guardroom in Siena, Genoa, and Piacenza, but my money is not for whores. No, by God, not a cent!" And as he was bragging in this way, I caught sight of ten crown pieces in his purse. I could have snitched them there and then and replaced them with bits of coal, but I got them out in another way, as you shall hear. One day he was in my house, completely soured by the pounding of his passion-hammer, for I had let him think that I had fallen in love with another man. When I saw the state he was in, I walked up to him, put my hands on his beard, and giving it two gentle tugs, whispered: "Who is your little angel?" Saying this, I plumped down on his lap, clasped my arms around his neck, and pushing his thighs apart with my knee, I rubbed it against him so that he felt everything and got even more passionately excited. Then I kissed him all over the face until he became so aroused that he moaned: "So be it!" Then he fell silent, letting loose so long a sigh that I was brushed by its breeze, and I hugged and caressed him so adeptly that he felt quite cheerful again. And as I was saying to him: "I wish we could sleep together tonight," somebody who had been primed to do it rapped on my door. The maid hastened to the window and returned, saying: "My lady, it's the artisan." "Tell him to come up," I answered. When he appeared he asked me for ten crowns, which I still owed him for a bed curtain, and besides, he begged me to be quick about it since he had work to do. I told the maid: "Here, use this key; take the coins from the chest and give him ten crowns." She went off to open it, leaving me to smooth the tiger's tail, who thought, being a man of the world, that he was superior to all possible swindles. I started bewitching him—in fact I already had him utterly enchanted—but the artisan was hurrying me, and I had already yelled a number of times to my [ 113 ]

maid: "Get a move on, nitwit," when I heard her muttering and grumbling. I got up and went to see what was troubling her, and found her bustling about the chest, which she couldn't open because, just as the artisan who came for the money was a fake, so the key wasn't made fo*r that lock. I .pretended that she had damaged the lock and swarmed all over her with more shouts than blows. Then I urged her to break it open, but a hammer could not be found. So then I turned to my sly fellow and said: "Please, sir, if you happen to have ten crowns on you, give them to him. Later I shall unlock this chest or smash it—either way, you'll get your money back." ANTONIAA1 notice you spoke to him quite formally when itA came to matters of importance. Ha ha ha! NANNAAHe immediately pulled out his purse and threw himA the crown pieces, saying: "Take them, master, and Godspeed." I was kicking the chest and trying to shatter it, but he said to me: "Send for a locksmith and get him to open it. We're not in a hurry." (Now he used the informal mode of address. He felt that, since he had loaned me some money, I was one of his men.) ANTONIAAThe snot-nose!A NANNAAWhen I quit my kicking, I threw myself into bed withA him, but my plan was not to go to the end and give him a full peck at me. In fact as soon as he clutched me in his arms we heard a noisy knocking at the door. And that's all I was waiting for to leave him in the lurch. I jumped up, though he kept tugging at me, pleading with me not to go and see who was knocking at my door. After rushing to the window blind, I saw a little monsignor, a hat on his head and all wrapped .up in a cape, sitting astride a mule. He called me down and offered to let me sit behind him on the mule's haunches. I accepted, snatching the cape from my manservant's back, for in all other ways I was dressed like a boy (I almost always dressed like that), and went off with him. So my bilker and beater of whores, not just men, in revenge slashed my portrait which hung in the room and walked out of my house like a gambler who, after being marked down as a bad loss, skulks out of the casino. Oh, I forgot to tell you one thing. He was just about to smash the chest to get back his money, but my maid started screaming at the window: "Thieves! Thieves!" and he left with his plume bedraggled, not only because of all the [ 114 ]

people who came running but also because of the chest, which he opened, only to find it full of ointments and pomades for any accidents that might occur. When I tell you my adventures I feel like a woman who has sinned and wants to make a full confession and tell everything she ever did; yet just as she falls at the friar's feet, she can only remember half of it. ANTONIAATell me the stories you can remember, for by themA I can measure what you've forgotten. NANNAAThat's what I shall do. Well, a certain cheerful block-A head, having amassed about a hundred ducats from his vineyard, which was all that he owned in the world, somehow got the idea that he wanted me for a wife and mentioned this to my barber, who passed the news on to me. I also heard about the cold cash he had on him, and so I pumped the slob full of such great expectations that, certain he would get me, he showed up in my house. I lavished all sorts of caresses on him, and in one month's time, using those hundred ducats of his, he supplied me with beds, stocked my kitchen, and furnished my entire house with all that it required. I had let him have a nibble of it once or twice, but nothing more, and after that I picked a fight with him over some nonsense, calling him all sorts of names— "clown," "horse's ass," "rogue," "cheapskate," "filthy wretch," "idiot," "ignoramus"—and then to top it all off, slammed the door in his face. Realizing the mistake he had made, the wretched man turned twisted-neck monk, and I was happy. ANTONIAABut why?AA NANNAABecause a whore's stock goes up when she can boastAA of having driven men to despair, ruin, or insanity. ANTONIAAWithout envy.A NANNAAOh, how much money I have earned by swindling thisAA man or that! Many men often used to dine in my house, and after dinner the cards would appear on the table. "Come on," I would say, "let's play for two julios" worth of candy. The man who gets the King of Cups will have to pay." When the candies were lost and paid for, those who had cards in their hands could no more stop playing than a whore can stop screwing. So they pulled out their money and began gambling in earnest. Then two of my shills walked in, men who looked like simpletons, and they let themselves be coaxed for a while [ H5 ]

and finally picked up cards that were phonier than doubloons minted with lead; and then, still acting like dullards, they pocketed all the guests' money. All the while I was telling them by dumb show what cards the others held in their hands, for I didn't put much faith in the fake cards. ANT ONI A Now these are hoaxes! NANNAAFor two ducats I informed a man that his worst en-AA emy was coming two hours before dawn all by himself to sleep with me. So he had the place watched and the poor devil was hacked apart. ANT ONI AAJust a wasp sting. But, tell me, why did he comeA two hours before dawn ? NANNAABecause at that hour another man was leaving myA house, since he couldn't stay any longer. But do you think that if I slept with one lover, he was the only one to rub it around in me ? Why I used to rise a thousand times from the merchant's side with the excuse that I had a bellyache or the runs, and rush down to satisfy this man or that who had hidden in my house. I would put the blame on the heat and go out in my nightgown, pace up and down the hall for a while, prop myself on my elbows at the window to converse with the moon, stars, and heavens; and in the meantime I would let two of them climb on my back for the price of one. ANTONIAAIf you leave anything behind, it's lost for good.A NANNAANo doubt. Now sink your teeth into this one: afterAA I'd strangled ten or twelve of my lovers who no longer could supply me with gifts since I'd milked them dry, I decided to wipe them out entirely. ANTONIAAWhat trick did you use for that?A NANNAAI was giving my apples and fennel to a druggist andA a doctor, two men I could trust. So I said to them: "I want to play sick so that the dandies in my house can all cure me. You, the doctor, as soon as I'm put to bed, must say I'm done for and prescribe expensive medicines, which you, the druggist, will inscribe in your register, and then you can send me whatever you wish." ANTONIAAI see. That way you could pocket all the moneyA your lovers gave to the doctor and druggist, who would be handing it back to you. NANNAAYou're pretty smart. Anyway, it was a real belly laughAA [ H6 ]

that evening at supper with my men when I acted as though I'd been badly taken and slumped right under the table. My mother, who was in on the scheme, loosened my bodice, looking terribly frightened, and helped by the men carried me to my bed, wailing and crying as if I were dead. Then I came to, let out a great sigh, and whispered: "Oh, my heart." All the men began crying: "Don't worry, it's nothing. They're just vapors that come from the brain." I said: "I feel all right as I am," fainted again, and began writhing in anguish, so much so that two of the men ran for the doctor. He came, held my wrist delicately between his two fingers like a player fingering the stops on the neck of the lute, revived me with rose-vinegar water, and declared: "Her pulse is still beating!" and left the room. Some of my credulous saps consoled my mama, who wanted to jump out of the window, while the others clustered around the doctor, who was writing his prescription for the druggist. As soon as he had dashed it off, one of them brought it himself to the druggist's shop and returned with his hands full of paper twists and phials. After this the doctor left, though first telling them what must be done for me. My mother had some difficulty getting rid of my lovers, because they all wanted to sit and watch at my bedside, without even taking off their clothes. The next morning they all returned, and the doctor too. When the good man heard how close I had come during the night to passing on, he told them to collect twenty-five Venetian ducats to pay for making a certain distillation. One of the dupes, not even concerned that, once boiled in the still, those ducats would melt away forever, gave them to my mother, who stowed them carefully in our own little poor box; and no matter how much that idiot might have croaked, he would never have seen them again in this life. In short, what with medicines of rhubarb, syrups, cordials, enemas, juleps, manuschristi, payment for doctor's services, firewood, and candles, a purseful of coins poured into my hands. ANTONIAADidn't you get bored stuck in bed even though youA were healthy? NANNAAI would have if I had been all by myself; but one nightAA the doctor would come to massage my back and the next night the druggist took over and rubbed me down thoroughly. When I was on my feet again and fully recovered, plucked, roasted capons and [ 117 ]

delicate wines showered down on me; my lovers had raped every prelate's cell to supply me. ANTONIAAHa ha ha!A NANNAAThat merchant I mentioned before, though he didn'tA say a word, let me know quite clearly that he would love to have a child with me. So I began to loll around and look very sad and uncomfortable. I would twist and squirm from morning to night, and when I ate for every three mouthfuls I swallowed I would spit out the fourth and shriek: "What sort of bitter stuff is this?" then act as if I were going to vomit. The poor chump would comfort me and say: "Oh, I hope God wills it. . . ." and fall silent. And I, who would eat like a field hand when he wasn't there, would lose my appetite and not even take a nibble. At last, after having staged many faints, swoonings, bellyaches, morning sicknesses, and stitches in the side, while constantly complaining that my periods didn't come on time, I told him, through my mother, that I was pregnant, and my confederate, the doctor, substantiated the statement. So the rag-shitter rushed off as happy as a lark to line up godmothers and godfathers, set aside capons, buy diapers, and even hire a wet-nurse. Not a bird, not a first fruit of the season, nor a freshblown flower appeared that he didn't snatch for me, fearing that, if I felt the lack of it, the child might be marked by its rash. He could not even stand for me to bring my hands to my own mouth and filled my beak with his own, rushed to help me stand up and to support me when I sat down. The best laugh of all was to see him cry when he heard me say: "If I die in giving birth, please take care of my son." I drew up a will, making him heir to all my property on my death. He went everywhere showing it off and saying to each person he met: "Read what it says there and then tell me if I'm not right to adore her." Well, after having amused him with this comedy for some time, one day I let myself drop to the floor, doing it with real abandon. I behaved as though I were badly hurt and then had them bring in a basin of tepid water which contained the foetus of an unborn lamb, which you would have sworn was a human abortion. When he saw it, the tears poured down; he set up a great lament and redoubled his tears and cries when my mother told him that the child was a 'boy and looked exactly like him, and he spent a pile of money to bury it. We made him dress in [ 118 ]

black, and indeed he was in despair because the baby had died without being properly baptized. ANT ONI A Who was Pippa's father? NANNAAHe was a marquis in the eyes of God, but as for theA world, I cannot mention his name. Yes, we'd better talk about something else. ANTONIAAAs you wish.A NANNAAThe fancy took me to strum a lute, not for the pleasureA of it but in order to make a show of enjoying the arts. The truth is that the accomplishments whores acquire are only snares to catch the fools. They are more expensive than the fennel, olives) and jellies that innkeepers set out before a meal. Any whore who starts singing songs and can read music from a book at sight, stay away from her— in fact run away as fast as you can, even in your bare feet. ANTONIAAEverything in this world goes hand in hand withA deceptionA. NANNAAAbove all I had a talent for turning every trifle to myAA advantage; I could even snare a kid's jack in my net, as Pulci's Margutte says. There wasn't a single man who slept with me who didn't part with a piece of his hide. And don't imagine that a shirt, a headdress, shoe, hat, or sword, the merest bagatelle which was left in my house, was ever seen again. Every little thing can be turned into cash. And since every item has its price on the market, all the water carriers, wood sellers, oil peddlers, mirror merchants, biscuit bargainers, soap salesmen, traders in milk and cheese or roasted and boiled chestnuts, right down to the shoeshiners and match sellers, were all my bosom pals; and they would compete among themselves to see who could waylay the most customers for me. ANTONIAAWhy did they do it?A NANNAABecause I would come to the window on every pos-A sible pretext, buying all sorts of things from them and forcing my lovers to pay through the nose; whoever came to court me had to spend a Julio, a drachma, a baiocco. For instance, at a certain point my maid would step onto the stage. "The pillow cases," she would say, "are still too skimpy: you need at least a mile more of cloth," and I would kiss the first man to hand and ask him: "Give me a julio." And he would be marked down as a lousy cheapskate if he didn't

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hand it over. After my maid came my mother, her hands piled high with linen. "If you let this bargain slip through your fingers," she would squeal, "you'll never come across a better one." So I would dole out two more kisses to another fellow and he would fork out for the linen. When that group had left, a new batch showed up; but I had my maid tell them that I was in company and would let only one man in, provided he came by himself. After having cooked him like a meat sauce on the fire of my kisses and fondlings, I wheedled and beguiled him so adeptly that that very day he sent an embroidered silk spread for my bed, a hanging, a painting, or some other expensive object which I knew he owned. In return for this gift I would promise him, even before he requested it, that he could come and spend the night with me. That night he would send me the most magnificent dinner, and when he himself arrived to eat it with me, I would have my servant tell him to go for a stroll and return after a while. The stroll over, he would be back at the door and the maid would tell him: "Just wait a little longer." He'd wait, knock again, get no answer, and start shouting and threatening: "You whore, you sow, you'll pay for this, I swear it by the body of the Immaculate and Consecrated One!" All the while I was gorging myself at his expense with another man, laughing and saying between fits of laughter: "Bang as much as you wish; you'll only become a laughing stock for your pains." ANTONIAAHow did he forgive you afterward, if he was a manA of any substance? NANNAAI don't care what he was. Usually he would sulk andAA fret for a couple of days and then, unable to hold his colt in check any longer, he would let me know that he wanted to have a word with me. "What do you mean one word? A thousand," I would reply. And wh,en I opened the door for him, he would stalk in blustering: "I would never have believed it." "My soul," I would say, "if that's what you want to think, go right ahead. But the fact is that you're the only man I love, adore, and hold in my heart. If you only knew, if you only knew what it was that compelled me to leave the other evening, you would praise me to the skies. If I can't be sure of you, whom can I be sure of?" And you can bet on it I was able to invent plenty of excuses—for instance, that I had to visit some lawyer [ 120 ]

or official in connection with a court case I was involved in. Then I would swoop right down on him, fling my arms around his neck, and while he was planting his lily in my garden plot, I was ripping the heart out of his body, not to mention his spirit's anger. And 1 didn't permit him to leave me until I had made him sing my song again through the entire register; ANTONIAAThey should have made you a singing teacher atA the Scuola Cantorum. NANNAAThanks for the pretty compliment.A ANTONIAAThanks.also to your great skill.A NANNAANo, to your kindness. But listen now to how I nearlyA got rich one day. A certain gentleman, who was dying to have me, wanted me to accompany him to one of his estates and stay with him there for two months. This gave me the idea of getting it bruited about that I was going to marry God. I sent for a Jew and made a deal with him for all my furnishings and sold them, though not without making my lovers suffer the torments of the damned. After I had deposited the money I got in a bank, doing it on the sly, I left with the aforesaid gentleman. ANTONIAAhy did you sell your furnishings ?AA NANNAA\ To get new things in their place. The truth is thatA when I came back my lovers rushed to buy them, like ants rushing for fresh new seeds. ANTONIAACertainly it's the spells you cast on the poor wretchesA that made them believe you. NANNAAI won't deny that a whore uses every possible wile toA blind and bedazzle them. We make them eat our excrement, and our periods too. There was one whore—I won't mention her name— who, in order to get her lover to pursue her even more passionately, gave him a flock of the French disease-crusts to gnaw on, since she had plenty to spare. ANTONIAAHow awful!A NANNAANow, just listen. With a candle made from the fatA of a man burnt alive at the stake, I managed to heat up a nicely boiling cauldron of my little affairs. But after all, these bewitchments, such as herbs dried in the dark, ropes robbed from the necks of [ 121 ]

hanged men, dead men's fingernails, diabolical incantations, and so on, are not worth a straw compared to the greatest bewitchment of all, which I would name if it were permissible. ANTONIAAYour conscience is as clean as Fra Capelletto's.A NANNAAWell, not to look like a hypocrite, I shall tell youAA that a pair of luscious buttocks can accomplish more than all that the philosophers, astrologists, alchemists, and necromancers have ever wrought. I have tried as many herbs as two whole meadows can grow, and as many words as peddlers spout in ten market days; yet I could never move a finger of the heart of a certain man—his name must remain a secret—while with one little twist of my pretty little behind I drove him so crazy for me that all the whorehouses were astounded, and these are places which are used to seeing novelties every day and become so calloused that they are never amazed by anything. ANTONIAAYou see, you see where the mysteries of enchant-A ment are found! NANNAAThey are found between the legs, in the crack, andA that crack has just as much power to charm money out of shinbones as money has to lure the crack out of monasteries. ANTONIAAIf the behind has as much power as money, thenA it has more prowess than the knight Ronceville, who slaughtered all the paladins. NANNAAOf course it has more prowess. But let's go on with ourA discussion and write down this bit of cunning, which really counts in a pinch. I had a lover as frenzied as a spendthrift who has nothing to spend. The first thing that got his goat he would fly off the handle and start to curse me, and when his anger had passed, he would kneel at my feet, his arms crossed over his chest, and beg for my forgiveness. It was my special graciousness to make his penance hit his purse. One day when I saw that he was going beyond all bounds, I drove him into such a fit of desperation by sliding out of the bed and going downstairs to give myself to his rival that he walloped me. When he was in a good humor again, thinking that he would never be able to mollify me, for I pretended not to want to listen to another word, he gave me half of what he had on him. And so he made peace with me. ANTONIAAYou treated him the way those scoundrels do who,A [ 122 ]

after giving their oath to an enemy not to attack, goad him into using his fists so that he will be punished for it. NANNAAExactly; that's the sort I was. Ha ha ha! I almost peeA in my drawers when I think of the preacher who established only seven mortal sins for all the people in the world, whereas the lowliest whore that lives can provide him with at least one hundred. Or consider how many sins one of these women must have who strips a thousand churches bare in order to cover her own altar. My dear Antonia, gluttony, anger, pride, envy, sloth, and greed were born on the selfsame day as whoring; and if you wish to know how a whore stuffs herself, apply to those who feed on her; and if you wish to understand how wrathful a whore is in her anger, ask the father and mother of all the saints in the calendar. Learn this one thing: if whores could plunge the entire world into the abyss, they would do it in less time than it took Almighty God to create it. ANTONIAAAIt's an evil business. NANNAAThe arrogance of a whore is far worse than that ofAA some dressed-up hick; the envy of a whore is so avid that it devours itself, like the French disease consumes those who have it in their bones. . . . ANTONIAAI beg you, don't remind me of it. I caught it, andA I never could discover where it came from. NANNAAForgive me for bringing it up; I had forgotten howA it nearly murdered you. A whore's accidie is sharper and more troubling than the melancholy of a courtier who sees himself rotting away in his hovel without a cent of income. The greed of a whore is like the tasty mouthful which the usurer steals from his hunger, putting it away in his cupboard together with the other leftovers. ANTONIAAAnd where 'does that leave a whore's lust and loveA of lewdness? NANNAAAntonia, my dear Antonia, the man who drinks allA the time is never very thirsty, and the person who sits all day at the table is rarely hungry. And if every now and then a whore does get a fleeting desire for a big prick, she gets it in much the way that a pregnant woman eats a clove of garlic or a green plum; it is but a passing whim. And I swear to you by the good fortune I wish for my darling Pippa that lust is the least of all the desires they have, because [ 123 ]

they are constantly thinking of ways and means to cut out men's hearts and feelings. ANTONIAAI believe you, and without your oath.A NANNA Take my word for it. But now take a pleasant sip of about a thousand clever swindles and hoaxes, which I shall tell you almost in one breath. ANTONIA Go right ahead—tell me. NANNA Among my many lovers there were three men, a painter and two courtiers, and theirs was the peace that exists between dogs and cats. One man was always spying on the other two, trying to come and see me when he thought the others wouldn't be there. So one evening the painter came at an odd hour and knocked at my door. He was admitted, and barely got up the stairs and started to sit down at my side when, hark, along came one of the courtiers and started banging. I knew who it was, so I got the painter to hide somewhere and then went down to meet the other man, who came up crying: "By the devil! I'd just like to get my hands on that painter of scoundrels' mitres for the whipped, if he's here," though the painter didn't hear a word of it. While this courtier was gabbing, I heard my third lover cough and clear his throat, which was his signal to tell me he was there and to let him in. So I hid the fellow who hated the painter, and my third stud walked in, spitting. Even before he got upstairs, he said to me: "I came expecting to find one of those two wretches with you, and if I had, the least he would have paid for it would be the loss of an ear." Now don't imagine that since he talked so bravely he would have dared give the warrior Castruccio a kick in the arse. Just the opposite, for when this challenge was heard by the painter, who did not know the courtier was also hidden, and by the courtier, who knew nothing of the painter, they both jumped out to make the braggart eat his words. Seeing the two of them, he had a great urge to withdraw, ran to the head of the stairs, stumbled and rolled all the way down to the bottom, and his enemies, having in their rage lost all sense, jumped down on top of him. Then the three men, who mortally hated each other, were all piled up in a heap and started a brawl that drew a mob with their shouts, groans, and general uproar; but the onlookers couldn't get in the house to pull them apart, for their shoulders were rammed so tightly against the door that [ 124 ]

nobody could open it. As their shouts multiplied, and also the crowd on the street, a governor happened to pass by. He had the door forced and arrested all three of them. And battered and bloody as they were, he had them all put in the same prison cell; and they would never have been gotten out if they hadn't come to an agreement, as in fact they did. ANTONIA That was surely a fine stunt. NANNA It was so fine that I used to tell it to all the men from other cities. I was even on the point of having a poem written about it by Gian-Maria the Jew, but I didn't for fear of seeming a boastful woman. ANTONIA God will reward you. NANNA I hope He does. But if this story made everyone laugh, the story I'm going to tell you now shocked them. When I was at the peak of the favor to which my lovers had brought me (thanks to my being such good merchandise), I decided that I would like to get myself walled up in the cemetery. ANTONIA Why not in St. Peter's or St. John's? NANNA Because I wanted to excite their pity even more deeply by having them put me among all those dead people's bones. ANTONIA What a marvelous idea! NANNA When the word had spread, I began to lead a holy life. ANTONIA Before you go on with your story, tell me, why did this crazy idea of being walled up seize you? NANNA To escape from my lovers, and at their expense. ANTONIA Of course, of course. NANNA I began to change my mode of life. The first thing I did was take down the hangings in my room; then I took out the bed and table, donned a skimpy gray woolen dress, removed my necklaces, rings, headdresses, and all other finery. Each day I fasted, although I managed to eat plenty on the sly. I did not stop talking altogether, and I did not consent to doing everything with my lovers. From day to day I accustomed them to getting along without me, and this soon drove them absolutely wild. When I was sure that the story about my wanting to be walled up was on everyone's lips, I carted away everything of value in the house and, after storing it in a safe [ 125 ]

place, roamed about town distributing a few rags to the needy, for the love of God's mercy. When the time for the immurement came, I summoned my lovers, who expected to be widowed by me (and it would have been better for them if I had been lost entirely rather than simply strayed), and asked them to sit down. After we had sat like that for a time, turning over in my head a few sentences I had made up all by myself, I squeezed ten little teardrops out of my eyes, which I somehow managed to hang on my cheeks, and said: "Brothers, fathers, and sons, he who doesn't think of his soul either doesn't have one or doesn't hold it dear. But I am very concerned about mine. It was converted by a preacher and by the legend of St. Chiepina, and it was also frightened by Hell, which I heard described in great detail and could clearly see; and that is why I made up my mind not to go to the abode of flames, which I have also seen depicted in a painting. And since my sins are somewhat less enormous than God's mercy itself, therefore, oh brothers and sons, I want to wall up this filthy flesh, this filthy body, and this wretched existence." When they heard this, the poor men's sobs gurgled in their throats just as sobs do in the throats of the faithful who cannot restrain their moans and sighs when the friars begin to tell the story of the Passion. Then I continued: "No more parties, no more displays, no more goods and property. My adorned room shall become a bare and narrow cell; my bed shall be an armful of straw spread on a plank; my food shall be the grace of God; my drink, rainwater; and my golden gown, this . . . " And I dragged out from under my seat a haircloth of the roughest variety and showed it to them. If you can recall the lamentations which good souls give vent to when they see the cross held aloft at the Colosseum, then you are seeing and hearing the tears and lamentations of my impassioned lovers, who, suffocated by sorrow and pain, could only speak with their tears. When I cried, "Brothers, forgive me!" they made the same sort of clamor they would make in Rome if the city were put to the sack again, God forbid! One of the men threw himself at my feet, and unable to soften me with his stream of eloquence, he got up and banged his head twenty times against the wall. ANT ONI A What a shame! NANNA Well, the morning came when I was to be immured; [ 126 ]

and you would have sworn that all of Rome had gathered in the graveyard chapel. If you rolled up in one heap all the crowds that collect to see Jews baptized you wouldn't even be close to a quarter of the mob I had brought into being. You can also be sure that neither men who are to be hanged in the morning, nor soldiers preparing to go into battle suffered more than my impassioned studs. But why lead you a chase over the treetops? I was walled up while moans and sighs rose from the whole population. "God has touched her heart," one man cried. "She will set a good example for other whores," yelled another; while others said in wonder: "Who would have ever believed it!" Some people wouldn't even credit their own eyes; some were amazed, and still others laughed and said: "If she holds out till the end of the month, you can crucify me!" And it was both a great pity and delight to see my miserable lovers sitting all day long in the chapel, competing with each other to speak to me, nor did the Pharisees watch over the Holy Sepulchre as well as they watched over me. After a couple of days had gone by, I began to heed the pleas they were showering on me at all hours, urging me to come out. "A person can save his soul anywhere," they cried over and over. And to tell you all in one word, they got me out and refurnished a whole new house for me. So I escaped from the walls, which were broken down in the same way they break down the Jubilee portal gate after the Pope has removed the first brick; and I became even more brazen than before; and all of Rome split its sides laughing, and those who had predicted my de-immurement went about saying to each other in ringing voices: "You see, what did I tell you?" ANTONIA I can't imagine how a woman could have thought up what you thought up. NANNA Whores are not women; they are whores. And that's why they think up and do what I thought up and did. But what should I say about that foresight of ours which would do honor to the ants, that is, of providing in summer for the hard days of winter ? Antonia, my dear sister, you should know that a whore always has a thorn in her heart which makes her uneasy and troubled: and it is the fear of begging on those church steps and selling those candles about which you spoke so knowingly just now—and I must confess that for one Nanna who knows how to have her land bathed by the fructifying [ 127 ]

sun, there are thousands of whores who end their days in the poorhouse. Indeed, Master Andrea used to say that whores and courtiers can be put in the same scales; in fact, you see most of them looking like defaced silver coins rather than bright gold pieces. And what does that thorn which not only pierces their spirit but also their heart and soul force them to do? It forces them to think of their old age. So then they go to the hospital and pick the prettiest little female baby they can find and bring her up as their daughter. They adopt her at the right age, so that the girl will begin to bloom just when they begin to wither and fade. And they give her the loveliest names you can hope to discover and keep changing them nearly every day, so that a stranger can never be sure which name is her right one. Today they're called Giulia, the next day Laura, Lucrezia, Cassandra, Portia, Virginia, Pantasilea, Prudenzia, or Cornelia. And for every girl who has a real mother, as I am really Pippa's, there are thousands who have been gotten from the hospitals. Besides, there is thp difficulty of guessing who is the father of those children we actually give birth to, though we always claim that they are the daughters of noblemen and great monsignors. For so varied and diverse are the seeds sown in our gardens that it is well-nigh impossible to determine who planted the seed that actually impregnated our soil; and any whore who brags of knowing a particular wheat in a huge field sown with at least twenty different kinds of seed, which can't be distinguished, in any shape or manner—well, that whore is both crazy and foolish. ANTONIA There you are positively right! NANNA Furthermore, the man who falls into the hands of a whore with a mother is in for real trouble. Woe to him, I say, who gets her halter tied around his neck! No matter how old the mothers may be, they still want their share of the gravy of pleasure. Thus they are led to mix a few thefts with their daughter's mean tricks, so that they can pay the fellows who fuck them royally. But the trouble is they always get a hankering for young men. In fact this is how old whores usually wind up, barely able to get credit even when they pay for it. ANTONIA That is the living, shining truth. NANNA Oh, the danger a poor wretch runs when a mother and [ 128 ]

daughter discuss him in the secrecy of their room. What thieving thoughts, what cruel counsels, what treacherous intrigues are hatched because of, and then performed on, his purse! A fencing master who lived next door to me never taught his pupils as many murderous thrusts and stabs as those postiche and non-postiche mothers teach their daughters. Then they tell them: "When your lover shows up, tell him so-and-so and ask him for such-and-such, leave him like this, caress him like that, fly into a rage in this fashion, and be sweet and pleasant to him so that he gives you this and that. Don't push him off too much and don't make love to him too much or stroke and caress him too fondly, and while you're bantering with him walk into the next room and stand there looking pensive. Promise and break your promise as it suits you, and always try to get hold of a bracelet, a ring, a necklace, or a chaplet; the worst that can happen is that you'll have to give them back to him." And that's just the way it goes, believe me. ANTONIA I think I can almost believe you. NANNA You can believe me, and not almost. ANTONIA And were you so depraved ? NANNA He who pisses like the others is like the others^ and so while I lived like a whore, I was a whore; nor did I omit doing anything the whores habitually do, for I would never have become a whore if I did not have the lusts and desires of a whore. And if ever a woman deserved to be diplomaed as a whore, it was Nanna the whore, who was above all a genius in the art of always looking not a day more than twenty-five. For that matter, it would be easier to add up the number of glowworms in a series of ten summers than the true age of a whore. Today she will tell you: "I'm twenty," and six years later she will take the oath that she's only nineteen. But let us talk about important matters. Do you know how many wretches I have hacked to bits and wounded in my day? ANTONIA I would like to see you after your day. NANNA By the time that day comes I shall have made so many holy pilgrimages, bought so many indulgences, and traversed so many stations of the cross that my soul will not be the last in the next world, just as my body has not been the last in this one. No, by the Madonna, I shall not be counted among the stragglers, even [ 129 ]

though I have gotten great pleasure from getting men to kill each other over me. I did it from a feeling of grandeur, for it seemed to me only the proper praise of my beauty to hear swords clanging together night and day on my account. And anyone who gave me a mean, wry look was in for it; I would have offered myself to the public executioner himself to get revenge. ANTONIA Evil is evil and good is good. NANNA In the proper place. I have done evil and I've repented and haven't repented. But how can I possibly explain to you the talent I had for driving men mad with lust? Antonia, sometimes there were as many as ten suitors in my house, and I handed out kisses, caresses, sweet words, quick fondles, and squeezes so adroitly among them that they all thought they were in paradise; and then one day there showed up a new birdie all wrapped up in the Mantuan or Ferrarese fashion, with tagged points, ribbons, and deckle hems. I welcomed him as a person welcomes a bearer of gifts. I would leave my beaus in the lurch (to put it in the Genovese style) and take him into my private bedroom. And that would take the bounce out of those I had left in the main living room, just as almonds drop with the frost and flowers before the blast of the wind. They would let out a great sigh, but without a word, and they looked like coerced people who shrugged their shoulders since they couldn't do anything else. After this they began to grumble softly, gnaw at their knuckles, tap on the tables, scratch their heads, and start pacing up and down, silently humming a few ragged tunes in order to work off their anger. When I took my sweet time about returning to them, they started down the stairs, and then, hoping that I might call them back, shouted a few words to the maid or the other men, and after taking a turn around the block, they would come back and find the door shut tight and then they would give way to the most anguished despair. ANTONIA Ancroia was not so cruel. NANNA Now you're letting pity run away with you. ANTONIA I am and I want to be pitying. NANNA Be as you wish, if that's how you are. As long as you listen to me, I'm satisfied. ANTONIA I'm listening, you can be sure of that. [ 130 ]

NANNA It was a real delight to see me, right in the middle of the pleasure a man was having of me, burst into tears without any reason, and when being asked "Why are you crying?" I would sob and sigh, my tears streaming down, my words coming in a gulping rush, and say: "I am terribly wounded. You don't appreciate me, but patience, since that's how my bad luck wishes it." Another time, when a man was leaving me for two hours, I cried and said: "Where are you going? To one of those whores who will treat you as you deserve?" Then the fathead would feel all puffed up with pride because he had made a woman unhappy. I also often wept when I saw a man come to visit me who hadn't come for two days in a row, so as to make him think I was crying with joy at seeing him again. ANTONIA You certainly had a great stock of tears on hand. NANNA You can reckon it this way: I was a plot oT land from which water spurted as soon as it was touched; indeed, it was one of those plots that do it even without being touched at all. But I never cried with more than one eye. ANTONIA Oh, are there people who can do that? NANNA Whores cry with one eye, married women with two, and nuns with four. ANTONIA Now this is something worth knowing. NANNA It could be, if I felt like explaining it. I will tell you, though, that whores cry with one eye and laugh with the other. ANTONIA Now this is really exciting; but tell me how it works. NANNA My poor woman, don't you know that we whores (I prefer that word for us) always have a smile in one eye and a tear in the other? The proof that this is true is that we laugh over every bit of nonsense and cry over every triviality; indeed, our eyes are like a sun surrounded by shifting clouds, which first shoots forth a beam and then is obscured. In the very middle of a bout of laughter, they will suddenly burst into tears. And when it came to such tears and laughter, I could manage it more neatly than any whore'who ever arrived here from Spain. And with this arsenal of stunts, I murdered more men than those who die on straw throughout this most reverend realm. Nothing in fact is more necessary to our profession than the tears and laughter I refer to; but you must use them at the

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right moment, for if you let the opportunity slip past, they won't have any effect and are like damask roses, which, if not picked at dawn, lose their fragrance. ANTONIA Every day I learn something new. NANNA After the fake smiles and tears come their sisters, the lies, which I enjoyed telling more than a peasant enjoys wolfing down pancakes; and I told more lies than the Gospels tell the truth. And I walled them in so firmly with the cement of my oaths in order to obtain the trust and credence of others that you would have exclaimed: "That woman is speaking the words of God!" I invented the most treacherous lies imaginable about my connections and relations, my land holdings and estates, and a score of such idle fibs. I imagined all sorts of weird tales, and unraveling them to my benefit, I would claim I had dreamt them. I kept all the names of the men who ever were in love with me in a notebook, and I distributed the nights among them, posting the name of the man who was going to sleep with me. I arranged matters nicely, and if you've seen those priests who say Mass and are listed on certain boards hung in the sacristy, you see me. ANTONIA I have seen those priests' lists, and I can almost see yours. NANNA Well, that's fine then. ANTONIA But what has this list of names got to do with the lies you told? NANNA This is how it went: the idiotic young men, being assured after seeing their names on the board, which told them which night they had, were often deceived. Yes indeed, very often. For I would frequently make a change, as they do in the churches for the various masses. ANTONIA Yes, in this way the lies have some connection with the board. NANNA Now listen to this and save it for your honor and glory. I managed to grab hold of a very costly chain from one of the men who was so anxious to sleep with me that he had lost all sense of danger. He in turn had borrowed the chain from some nobleman, who had taken it from his wife to make use of it; and the day I C 132 ]

hung it around my neck was the very day that the Pope gives so many poor girls dowries in the Church of Minerva. ANTONIA You mean Annunciation Day? NANNA Just so, Annunciation Day. I hung it around my neck that very day, but I didn't hold onto it for long. ANTONIA Why not? NANNA Because as soon as I got to the church and saw the great crowd that was there, I thought of making it mine, and what did I do ? I took the chain off my neck and gave it to someone who was more secretive than a confessor. Then I shoved my way into the thick of the crowd, though I was already in the middle of it, and let out a shriek like those people let out when some quack yanks a tooth in the Campo di Fiore. At my scream everybody turned to look, and behold! there is crafty Nanna shouting: "My chain! My chain! Thief! Traitor! Crook!" And as I shouted I began tearing out my hair and wailing. My shouting startled everyone, the entire church was in a tumult, and the story ran as far as the police; some poor wretch who seemed from his appearance to have stolen the chain was hauled bodily to the prison at Torre di Nona, and just missed being strung up there and then. ANTONIA I don't want to hear any more. NANNA Yes, you shall hear it. ANTONIA I'd like to hear what the man who loaned you the chain had to say. NANNA I left the church still crying, wringing my hands and beating my palms together, and went home, locked myself in my room, and told my maid: "I don't want anyone to bother me." Just then along came my lover, wanting to have a word with me. Not a chance. So then he began to bang at the door, thumping away, shouting my name: "Nanna, are you there? Say, Nanna, are you there? Open up, open.up, I say; are you going to be upset by such a trifle?" I pretended that I couldn't hear him and said neither softly nor loudly: "Unlucky, wretched woman that I am, hounded by troubles and misfortunes, I will enter the convent's nunnery. I will go and drown myself. I will become a hermitess." Then I rose from the bed I was lying in and, without opening the door of my room, called to [ 133 ]

my maid: "Go, my girl, and find a Jew, because I want to sell everything I own, and with the money I shall pay for the chain." And when the maid acted as though she were actually going to fetch the Jew, my good lover began yelling at the top of his voice: "Open the door. It's me. Open up." So I opened it, and when I laid eyes on him I began moaning: "Alas, I am ruined." And he said: "Don't fret. Even if I am left without a shirt to my back, I don't want you to suffer any more than I do when I tap myself like this with my finger." "No, no," I replied, "give me only two months' time." And he said: "Quiet, you fool, hold your tongue." That night I slept with him and gave him such a sweet time that he never mentioned the chain again. ANTONIA Your shop came in handy then. NANNA A gnarled, wrinkled, yellowed, tall, and thin old man developed a passion for me, and I developed a passion for his wallet; and since he could enjoy amorous pleasures as much as a toothless man enjoys a hard crust of bread, he worked off his passion by touching me, kissing me, fondling and sucking my tits. Nothing could get his pole to rise up stiff and straight, nothing, neither truffles nor artichokes nor electuaries. And even if it did stand up for a moment, it would soon droop down again like a wick that,.just when you think it's catching fire, sputters out because of a lack of oil. Nor did it help at all to jerk and pull at it, to shove my finger in his blow-hole or tickle his balls. Well, I played all sorts of stupid stunts on the old codger. One time, having offered dinner, which he had to pay for, to a throng of courtiers, I stole four of the thirty silver plates that he had borrowed for the banquet. And when he kicked up a fuss about them, I dove into his arms and cried: "Papa, Papa, don't scold me; don't become so angry because you know you get the bellyache when you do. Strip me of all my gowns and everything I own, and pay for them with that." He kept quiet, for I threw so many 'Papas' at his head that he behaved like a real father when his child's cry of 'Papa' strikes straight into his heart. He paid for the silver service out of his own pocket and limited himself to swearing that he would never borrow anything for anyone, no matter who begged him. ANTONIA Oh, you were a subtle one. [ 134 ]

NANNA I was so sweet and amiable at the start of a love affair that whoever spoke to me for the first time went around singing my praises to the skies; but when he got to know me better, the manna turned sour and became bitter aloes. And just as at the start I showed a deep distaste for all bad actions, so in the middle and at the end I evinced a dislike for all good ones; I behaved according to the habits of all good whores and took great delight in causing scandals, kindling feuds, breaking up friendships, rousing hatreds, goading men to curse each other and brawl. I was always dropping the names of princes and passing judgment on the Turks, the Emperor, the King, the famine of foodstuffs, the wealth of the Duke of Milan, and the fnture Pope. I declared that the stars were as large as the pineapple atop St. Peter's, but no larger, and that the moon was the bastard sister of the sun. I skipped from dukes to duchesses and talked about them as if I had trampled over them like doormats with my feet. I had all the haughty airs and manners of an empress, which would barely suit her and are in any case a swindle. I took as my example a certain noblewoman who always carried a silken pillow around with her and made whoever spoke to her kneel on it. ANT ONI A Oh, you mean the female Pope? NANNA The lady Pope, so I am told, did not put on such high and mighty airs; by my oath, she did not. Nor did she give hersef so bright a title as those whores did. One woman, for example, called herself the daughter of Duke Valentine, another the daughter of Cardinal Scanio, and Madrema signed herself "Lucrezia Portia, Roman patrician," and sealed her letters with a huge seal. And don't think for a moment that the illustrious titles they bestowed on themselves made them any better; in truth, they are so lacking in love, charity, and compassion that if all the saints from St. Rocco to St. Job and St. Anthony were to beg alms of them, they would not give them a thing, even though they are terribly afraid of them. ANT ONI A The lewd bitches! NANNA And you can be sure that the things people fling into the river are better placed than if they were given to these whores. As soon as you give them anything, they despise you as much as they pretended to esteem you before the gift. The only thing that's good about them is their promise, which they keep as well as gypsies or [ 135 ]

the monks of India. In sum, whores have honey in their mouths and a razor in their hand; and you may see two of them lick each other from top to toe, and no sooner do they part than they say things about each other which would frighten Desiderio and the priests of the good wine, who frightened Death by laughing at him just when he was preparing to roast and dismember them. Backbiters without any restraint, they dig their barbed tongues into everyone; no matter who you are or what good you have done them they make no allowances and have no regard for anyone. You will think that they're crazy about one of their lovers, whom they keep as their favorite and regale to his face with a thousand "Yes, your lordships"; and if he leaves to make room for another man who has come to court them, on his way out they pay him a trillion honors with the head and tongue. But scarcely has he started down the stairs than they begin deriding him; and the moment he is out the door he is cursed worse than a traitor, so that the man who has remained gets the notion that he is mama's little darling and the apple of her eye. ANT ONI A Why do they act like that ? NANNA Why? Because a whore would not be a real whore unless she behaved like a cheat from inner grace and outer privilege; and a whore who does not have all the traits and qualities of a whore would be like a kitchen without a cook, a meal without wine, a lamp without oil, or spaghetti without cheese. ANTONIA I believe it must be a great solace to those men who have been ruined by whores to see one of them going past on the gallows cart, like the woman in that poem which says: O Madrcma doesn't want to, O Lorenzina, O Laura, O Cecilia, O Beatrice, Let this miserable woman be your model!

I know it by heart. I learned it, thinking it was by Maestro Andrea; I have since discovered that its author is the man who treats great lords as badly as this foul disease treats me: neither fumigations, unguents, ointments, nor medicaments cure me. Ah well, one must bear it. NANNA But I no longer know what to tell you and I know [ 136 ]

that I have moire to tell you than I have told you up till now: I'm trying to think. The truth is, my brain is all awash; it is simmering on the stove; it is only fit for shucking beans, due to my habit of hopping from topic to topic. Well anyway, let me tell you. . . . There came to Rome a rich young nobleman of twenty-two, who bore the title of merchant, just the sort of dough to be kneaded by a whore. Soon after his arrival he fell into my hands, and I acted as though I were passionately in love with him. And the loftier his manner with me, the less I put on mine. And I began sending my maid four and six times a day to beg him to deign to come and see me. The story spread all over town that I was madly in love with him, dying of it, fit only for a cup of broth and the last rites. "That whore has been finally caught good and proper," people went around saying, "and who does she fall for? For a brat whose mouth still stinks of his nurse's milk! Besides, he'll drive her crazy because he can't keep to one aim for an hour running." I didn't say a word, although I pretended I was wasting away because of him. Then I acted as if I couldn't eat or sleep, always brooding over him and calling for him. I acted this way so that people began to say that I would end up raving mad, picking stones, and dying for the sake of his beautiful eyes. The young man, who got a few nights with me out of it, plus a few good dinners, went about bragging and boasting, showing off a cheap tourquoise I had given him. When he was with me, I kept telling him: "Don't worry about money—I'll take care of you—and don't waste your strength on any woman but me. Whatever I have is yours, for I too am completely yours." So then he'd go strutting down Via dei Banchi and watch the people point him out in the crowd. Now it turned out that one day when he was with me a great lord came by to visit me, and I made the young man hide in a closet and told my maid to open the door. The nobleman entered, sat down, and seeing white linen Rheims bedsheets, he exclaimed: "And who will devirginize them? Will it be your Canymedo?" (or Ganymede— I can't recall the exact name he used). And I told him straight out: "He will devirginize them for sure, and I love him and adore him; I look up to him as a god, and I am his servant and slave and shall be for all eternity, caressing you other men only for your money." Now you can just imagine how that fool chortled with delight when [ 137 ]

he heard me say that. When the nobleman had left and I ran to open the closet, he stalked out and his shirt no longer touched his ass. He paraded through the house as though he owned me, my servants, and the whole house, and had taken us all over with a look. But let's get to the Amen of this Our Father of mine. One day when he wanted to screw me in his special style on top of a chest, I left him in the lurch, just when he was about to put it in, and locked myself in with another man. Not being accustomed to such pranks, he snatched up his cape, fired off a few nasty oaths, and went out, expecting me to call him back, as I usually did; but when he did not see the pigeon of peace arrive, he was seized by a diabolical fury, came back, and stood at the door. "The lady is accompanied," he was told. So he stood there like a mouse drenched in oil, his chin sagging to his chest, his mouth sour and his lips dry, his eyes aglitter with tears, his head unhinged and astray as if it were on somebody else's shoulders, and his heart pounding. He walked away very slowly, his legs wobbling under him as they wobble on a man who has just risen from a sick bed. Through the chinks in my blind I watched him hobble off, moving in jerks, halting and stumbling, and I laughed and laughed! Then he greeted someone—I don't know who—raising his hand feebly for an instant. He returned that evening; I let him in, and he found me chatting with a large company of men. When he saw that I didn't ask him to sit down, he extended the permission to himself, ensconced himself in a corner, and didn't seem to enjoy the quips and jokes he heard but remained there quietly until everyone had gone. When we were alone, he began to expostulate: "Is this your love? Are these your caresses? What are all your promises worth now?" "My dear brother," I answered, "thanks to you I have become the scandal of all the prostitutes in Rome: people are making fun of my nitwittedness, and what galls me even more is that now my lovers don't want to give me anything. 'We don't want to pay for the salt pork,' they say, 'so that someone else can eat the tasty crouton.' But if you want me to become again what you very well know I was to you, there is one simple thing you can do." When I said this he lifted his head like a man about to be hanged lifts it at the cry: "Run away! Beat it!" He swore that for my sake he would drill holes in the eyes of fleas, [ 138 ]

and begged me to ask him for anything. So I said: "I'd like to have a silk bed, which, together with the fringes, the satin, and the frame, would cost about one hundred and ninety-nine ducats, not counting the work of making it; and just so my friends can see that you're being truly generous and are even hocking yourself to give me gifts, take it all on credit and when the time comes to pay, leave it to me. I'll make sure the others pay or croak." "It can't be done," he replied, "because my father has written all over telling people not to give me credit, and anyone who gives me credit does it at his own risk." I immediately showed him my back and sent him packing. Then, putting a day in between, I sent for him and said: "Go and see Solomon; he will supply you with the money just on your signature." So he went to him and Solomon yelled: "No money without a pledge"; and he came back to me, told me the story, and I said: "Go to soand-so; he'll give you such-and-such jewels for such-and-such a sum of money, and the Jew will be happy to buy them from you." So he went, met the jeweler, came to an agreement with him for a twomonths' pledge, carried the jewels to Solomon, sold them to him, and brought me the money. ANTON IA What does all this add up to? NANNA The jewels were mine; and when the Jew got his money, he brought them back to me. Then, after eight days had gone by, I summoned the man who had given him the jewels on his signature and told him: "Get that young man thrown into jail and swear that he was trying to run away." So he brought charges, the pimp was arrested, and before he could get them to let him out he had to pay the fine twice over, since neither old tavenkeepers nor new ones have the habit of letting their customers eat on the cuff. ANTONIA And I, who until now thought that I was pretty shrewd, admit that I was nothing but an idiot. NANNA The time was coming for the carnival, which is always a moment of torment, death, and dissolution for poor horses, poor clothes, and poor dandies, starting with one of my customers who had more good intentions than the power to perform them. Anyway, it was just after Christmas, when the maskers begin strolling about the streets, though you didn't see too many of them. But day by day they went on multiplying like melons, which show up in batches of [ 139 ]

five or six every morning, then ten or twelve, and after that a whole basketful, then a pile, a heap, and finally you've got so many you feel like throwing them away. As I say, the maskers weren't coming down thick as yet when my friend All-Smoke-and-No-Roast, seeing me behave like a woman who intends to be understood without saying a word, said to me: "Don't you mean to get a costume?" "I'm a homebody," I answered, "a shutter-peeper. Let the pretty girls get costumes, and all those women who have gowns to put on their backs." "Sunday," he said, "I want you to go out in the most beautiful of costumes." I kept quiet for some time, and then I threw my arms around his neck and said: "My dear heart, how do you want me to rrfake this lovely masquerade for you?" "On horseback," he said, "and dressed to the hilt. I shall procure the Cardinal's genet, because to tell the truth his chief groom has promised me the horse." After I told him that that suited me perfectly, I put him off for about seven days before the day on which I reckoned I would put on my costume, and getting him to come back on Monday, I said: "You must first provide me with a pair of stockings and a pair of pants, and so as not to put you to any expense, you can send me your pair of velvet pants; I'll mend all the worn-out spots and fix them so I can wear them. As for the stockings, you can have them made for me for a pittance, and one of your doublets, not even a good one, will suit me fine after I've had it fitted on my back." When I had said all this, I saw him begin to grimace and twist his face, chewing on his unhappiness as though he almost regretted having put me up to all these extravagances. So I said to him: "You are doing all this grudgingly. Forget the whole thing; I no longer want to wear a costume." When I tried to leave the room, he stopped me and said: "Is that how much you trust me?" He sent his servant off immediately to get his clothes and also to get the tailor, who would refashion them to fit me, and that very day he bought the cloth for the stockings, which he had cut and brought to me two days later. He helped me dress and said: "They fit you as though they were painted on you." And when I was wearing my man's clothes, I let him try it with me as though I were a boy. "My dear soul," I said to him, "he who buys the broom can also purchase the handle. I should like to have a pair of velvet shoes." He didn't have any money, but he drew a ring off his finger

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and left it to be bartered for the velvet, giving it to a bootmaker who knew my measure and made the shoes for me in a jiffy. After this I managed to wheedle out of him a silk blouse embroidered with gold, not out of his chest but right off his back, and lacking a cap, I said to him: "Give me your cap, and I'll see to putting an ornament on it." And since he was quite anxious that I go in costume with him, he gave me his new cap and wore one which he had wanted to hand on to his manservant. Now the evening before the day I was to go on display arrived, and anyone seeing him bustling around me would have said to himself: "He's the Capitol Hill preparing things for the senator." At eleven o'clock that night I sent him out to buy a plume for my cap; then he went out again for a mask, and when he came back with a mask not from Modena, I sent him out again for the Modena mask. Finally I made him rush out to buy about a dozen tagged points. ANTONIA You should have had him take care of these things in one trip. NANNA I should have, but I didn't want to. ANTONIA Why not? NANNA Because by ordering him around I felt like a lady, besides being one in name. ANTONIA Did you sleep with him on the night before the festival ? NANNA After a thousand supplications, he got a quick turn in the hay; and I told him: "Tomorrow night you can do it to me twenty times in a row, if ten aren't enough for you." When morning came, I made him get out of bed before the sun rose and told him: "Go and have the horse groomed, so that as soon as I have eaten I can mount him." He got up, dressed, and left, and after he found the chief groom, said to him in his most beguiling manner: "Here I am." The groom stood there like a stick, neither denying nor affirming, and he began to exclaim: "What! Do you want to ruin me?" "Not I," answered the groom, "but my master, the Cardinal, loves his horses, and I know how whores behave; they have no consideration for God Almighty, much less a poor beast, and I wouldn't want his withers wrung or bruised or have him brought back to me broken-winded. I would be ruined then, and in quite a dif-

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ferent way from how you will be if you don't get the horse." But my lover begged and pleaded with him so much that at last the head groom gave in. "I can't go back on my word; send somebody for the horse and it will be given to him." Having told the stableboy of this order, my lover dispatched his manservant to me; and the manservant told me the whole conversation, and we laughed over it together. ANTONIA Those servants are great traitors. They certainly are their masters' greatest enemies. NANNA No doubt. But now dinner time had come; I barely let my friend gulp down six mouthfuls when I said: "Have your boy eat quickly and send him for the horse." He obeyed, and the boy ate and went off. When I thought that he would come back with the horse, he returned empty-handed. "The stableboy doesn't want to hand him over," he said. "The chief groom wants to speak to you first." The poor boy had scarcely finished delivering this message when he was hit in the head with a dish. ANTONIA Why did his master throw the dish at him? NANNA He threw it because he would have preferred the manservant to call him aside and whisper the message in his ear so that I, who hadn't turned my back, would not have heard anything. But then I really turned on him, faced him squarely, and yelled: "Now I'm in a nice fix, and just because I wanted to have a prettier mask than the face my whore of a mother gave me. I was sure that this was going to happen. You'll never do it to me again—no sir! I was crazy to trust you and let myself get all worked up over such nonsense. What angers me even more than not having the horse is that people will say that I've been tricked." He tried to say: "Don't worry, you'll have the horse," but I broke in with a "Stop bothering me," and turned my back. Then he grabbed his cloak, flew to the stable, bowed and scraped to all the valets, and asked them to show him to the head groom, and he begged and pleaded with him so well that he got the blessed horse. All the while I was very nervous, running to the window at the slightest noise, thinking each time it was the horse. At last I saw a footman run up, sweating profusely, his cape wrapped around his neck. He said to me: "Lady, the horse will be here any minute." No sooner had he said this than along came a man leading the horse by hand and cursing [ 142 ]

heaven because of the horse's wild prancing and bucking, which filled the entire street. When he got to my door, I stuck almost my entire body through the window so that bystanders could see who it was that was going to ride that beautiful horse. I was delighted when all the street urchins gathered at my house and started yelling to all who walked past: "The lady here is going to go in a masked costume!" My lover showed up soon after the horse and, panting, excited, and happy, said: "We must send the men ahead." I had ten men at my disposal. Then I kissed him and asked for the velvet cloak which his footman was supposed to bring that afternoon. No cloak, because the drunkard had forgotten it; and if I hadn't restrained his master, the fool would never have had the chance to forget again. In any case he rushed off for it, returned, and I put it on. As I was fastening my stockings, I happened to see that his garters were quite pretty and stole them from him with a little soft soap, loaning him mine, which weren't much to look at. After I was completely rigged out and adorned, having spent more time on it than it would take a person to become rich, and after a hundred fits and starts, I was finally on the horse. When I was at last in the saddle, my lover jumped on his nag and set off with me. He took me by the hand and would have liked all Rome to see him so kindly favored. And proceeding in this fashion we reached a place where they were selling eggs with shells that were full of rose water. I called a porter and bought all the eggs the peddler had in stock. My escort took off a chain he was sporting around his neck and left it in exchange for the eggs, which I tossed about at random and in the time it takes to recite a Credo. Then I clutched his hand again until we met a troop of people with and without masks, and plunging into the center of that mob, I left him in the middle of the road, struck silly and looking like a dummy! When I reached the Borgo or the Banchi, where the mud was deep and thick, I galloped around it twice at full speed, without the slightest consideration for the horse or the fine silk cape. That day I bumped into him about five or six times and treated him with the same fondness one lavishes on people who are utter strangers— in other words, none. For some time he kept trotting after me, but at his faltering pace he could never catch up with me; so there he sat on his nag, looking like a man made of hemp, a scarecrow. When [ 143 ]

night had nearly come, I sang together with a thousand other whores and their pimps: And I shiver in the middle of summer, burning for the winter . . .

Then I let him find me again and grab me by the hand like a desperate man; and after bidding the crew: "Good night, good night, my dear ladies and gentlemen," I turned with my mask in hand and said to my foolish lover: "Blessed is the person who can find you. Why, you just left me in the lurch, and I know why and what you did, and I'll do the same." The good dunce begged my forgiveness, and while he was trying to put the blame on me, we reached the Campo di Fiore. There I halted next to a chicken peddler, seized a brace of capons and two skewers of thrushes, and handing them to a man to carry to my house, told him curtly: "Go and pay for them." And so he had to leave behind a ruby which his mother had given him as a gift before his departure for Rome, and he was as fond of that ring as I was fond of rooking him. At my house we found no candles, no firewood, no bread or wine (perhaps because I had made sure that there wouldn't be any); and I flew into a rage and was only soothed when I saw him leave to buy all these items, since his footman wasn't on hand, having left to take back the horse (and the head groom, when he saw the state the horse was in, swore by all that's holy that he would never loan him out again, not even if Christ himself came to ask for him). I had stretched out on my bed and was lying there for a moment when along he came, his arms loaded with stuff. With my mother helping, we set the table, dinner was prepared quicker than you can ring a bell, and we sat down. Just as we were finishing the meal, I heard somebody coughing and spitting, coughs and spits that made my wretch suffer terribly. Running to the window, I recognized a lover, rushed to greet him, and went off with him, leaving my friend there all night, unable to sleep and pacing through the house, boasting and shouting about what he intended to say and do to me. But he had to sweat even to get back the silk cape he had loaned me; his footman came to the house eight days in a row before I handed it over. [ H4 ]

ANTONIA You weren't being so polite then, behaving that way toward someone who had done so much for you, and just to have you all to himself for a single night. NANNA It was a whorish politeness, and was no less lovely than what I treated the sugar merchant to. This man even gave me his kegs for something sweeter than sugar; and as long as his lust for me lasted, we even put sugar on our salads. And when he tasted the honey that came from my you-know-what, he would swear that in comparison his sugar was as bitter as gall. ANTONIA But still he threw it after you. NANNA Ha! I remember how he used to go crazy when he looked at my thing. He would touch and fondle it and get stiff as a board just from handling it. He used to compare it to those pretty little mouths which those marble statues of women keep so tightly pursed and which can be' seen here and there in Rome, and he would declare that it smiled the same sort of smile. And in truth he might well say so (though it's not nice to sing my own praises), for I had a truly lovely one, as delicate and neatly turned as is possible in this sad world. You could barely see the hairs that surrounded it, and it was so finely cleft that one could barely find the place where it was. It was not too swollen up nor too sunken in, and I give you my word that that sugar merchant gave me more kisses there than he did on my mouth, sucking it as though it were a freshly laid egg. ANTONIA The rascal. NANNA Why rascal? ANTONIA Because of the bad times which I hope God will visit on him. NANNA Did he not visit them on him by making him fall in love with me ? ANTONIA Not to my way of thinking. NANNA Now I can't give you a detailed account of all the swindles with which I stripped my lovers bare, nor how I carried them out without their ever seeing my hand in the intrigue. I used to use whoremaster's jargon, so that whenever one of these suckers came to visit me, since they did not understand me when I said 'mesie' and meant 'me,' or 'peepers' and meant 'eyes,' or 'moola' and meant 'money,' or 'lam out of there* and meant 'get away fast,' they were [ H5 ]

slaughtered immediately, like some hick who tries to follow a doctor of philosophy when he spouts Latin. And thieves' jargon is certainly worthy of a thief, for a thousand swindles can be blamed on it; but let me tell you how I hoaxed (to use the Tuscan term) a simp from Siena—or at least I thought he was Sienese. ANTONIA He couldn't have come from anywhere else. NANNA At any rate this Sienese, who had just breezed into Rome, kept eating me up with his eyes; and every time he came across my maid he was sure to say something amusing. Once he said: "This heart in my breast belongs to your mistress"; on another occasion he asked: "Tell me, my pretty girl, what is your lady doing?" And she would reply: "She does quite well thank you, at your lordship's orders," and then would make faces behind his back. And once when I saw him one day walking about for quite a long time, I told my maid: "Go down and make him pay street rent, since he is cluttering it up, walking back and forth at all hours." She went down to the doorway; and just as he was going to open his mouth and say hello, she began to yell at the top of her voice: "May he break a leg, so he can never come back here again. You hear me! That's right, I don't want to see hide nor hair of you again, you wretch, you lout!" The loafer, limp as a scarecrow on a seesaw, whined: "What's troubling you? Here I am, at your service. I am your lady's slave, I really am." She pretended that she didn't understand him and said: "It's four hours ago we sent that little thief to change a pistole to give a tip of a ducat to the porter who brought my lady two lengths of crimson satin as a gift from the Prince of Twisted Ballocks, and he's not back yet." The idiot, who wanted to get a reputation as a spender, since he was already known as a lunkhead, tore open his purse and cried: "Here, take them. Because I adore your mistress, I adore her." Then he placed four crowns in her hand, putting on a grand show. Then he whispered: "She likes me, isn't that so?" The maid, whom I'd just called, didn't tell him whether I did or didn't and shut the door in his face; so there he stood outside, like a man thrown out of a wedding banquet he tried to enter without an invitation. ANTONIA He got what he deserved, the simpleton. NANNA But let's go on to the story of the she-cats. ANTONIA What sort of cats are these? [ H6 ]

NANNA I owed a cloth dealer a debt of twenty-five ducats; and since I had the idea of never paying him, I suddenly thought of a good way to do him out of them. And what did I do ? I had two very good-looking she-cats, and seeing him coming to my window for the money, I said to my maid: "Give me one of the cats and you take the other, and as soon as the cloth seller gets here, I'll begin to shout: 'I want you to strangle her!' and you pretend you don't want to, and then I will make a show of strangling the cat I'm holding." No sooner had I said this than he appeared at the upstairs door. ANT ONI A Didn't he knock at the street door first? NANNA No, because he found it open. When he got upstairs, I began to scream: "Strangle her, strangle her"; and my maid, almost crying, begged me not to, asking me to forgive them, promising me that never again would they eat our dinner. I looked enraged, wrapped my hands around my cat's throat, and exclaimed: "You'll never do that to me again." When he saw the cats, my creditor, to his cost, took pity on them and asked me to give them to him. "Not on your life!" I cried; and he said: "Please, my lady, leave them with me for eight days, and after that I will help you kill them, if you do not want to give them away as a gift or forgive them." And so saying, he took my cat while I put up a token resistance; then he tore the other cat out of my maid's hands, and after stowing them both in a bag, handed them to the errand boy whom he had with him and told him to carry them back to his house. "Make sure," I said, "that you return them after eight days, because I want to kill them, the traitors!" He promised he would and then asked me for his twenty-five ducats, and I made a holy vow to bring them to his shop within ten days, and so sent him away satisfied. Ten, fifteen days went by, and then he returned to ask me for the ducats. I had them in a kerchief, and jingling them ostentatiously, I said: "Gladly, but first I want my cats." "What do you mean, your cats," he retorted. "They ran away over the rooftops as soon as they were left alone in my house." When I heard what I knew very well before I was even told, I put on a stepmother's frown and said: "You better make sure those cats get back here, because if they don't it will cost you more than twenty-five ducats. You promised me the cats, and you'll bring them back if you have to go to Barbary to fetch them. My cats, my dear sir, have to return here; [ 147 ]

they have to be returned, you hear me?" When the poor man, who was leaning against the window, saw that my shouting had gathered a crowd on the street below, he didn't say another word (it was wise of him), but ran down the stairs and declared: "You see, that's what you get when you trust a whore." ANTONIA Nanna, I want to tell you a little thought of mine. NANNA Tell me. ANTONIA This cat swindle is so neat and charming that for its sake alone you will be forgiven four excommunicable sins. NANNA Do you think so? ANTONIA I'd bet my soul against a pistachio nut. NANNA That would be no small thing. Achew, achew, achew —I've caught a chill. Achew, achew, achew—this fig tree has shaded me very badly from the sun. Now there won't be any chance of telling you stories about the many men to whom I talked so sweetly and cleverly that they believed that the Jewish synagogue rode in midair, just as, so we are told, Mohammed's tomb does—achew, achew . . . Oh, I can't breathe any more—my throat's already hoarse—the phlegm is drying up my whistle. ANTONIA It's usually the walnut tree that casts an unhealthy shade, not the fig tree. NANNA Now come, give me your opinion in three words, as you promised me you would, because I'm choking—achew, achew, achew. I really feel bad about not being able to tell you more about how I whipped my loving clients into shape, and I did it as though I were willing to lose almost anything in the bargain. I put on an act of great charity toward their purses and didn't let them strut about in embroidered suits or make a stupid display by throwing big banquets and other useless things. I did all this so that their money would be kept to satisfy my appetites and desires, and the clods praised my discretion, and the loving manner in which I protected their interests. Oh, my God, I'm dying—oh! And I'm also sad at not being able to tell you the story of my drapes, how I handled the man who pawned them, the man who took them in pawn, the man who bought them for me, the two other men who witnessed the deal, the man who brought them to my house, and the other man who dropped in just as I was having them hung up in my room. [ H8 ]

ANTONIA Come, make an effort to tell me. Come Nanna, sweet Nanna, darling Nanna . . . NANNA Well, it happened that a certain Messer . . . oh, help me say it ...a Mess—Messer—oh, I'm dying . . . There's not a chance . . . Forgive me, I'll tell you some other time. And I'll even tell you about the monsignor who ran away bare-ass across all the roofs of the quarter . . . Oh, my Christ, I'm fainting, Anto—. Antonia, my dear, what's the matter with me ? ANTONIA A curse on the phlegm that goes up and down, and a curse too on that gentle creature of a sun who has ruined our conversation. And I didn't want to say this, but perhaps it is a bit hard to believe that the first day you became a nun you actually saw so many strange events; nor do I believe that you became so friendly right from the start with the Bachelor. NANNA But I swear it: I became a nun when I was still a demi-virgin. As for having seen so many capers all at one go, believe me, I saw much, much worse . . . Damn this nasty cough! ANTONIA You do have it, don't you? NANNA Yes, indeed I do. But now won't you tell me your opinion in three words, as you promised? ANTONIA To go back to that promise I made you, I'll settle it in four: I can't keep it. NANNA And why not? Achew . . . Oh, my heavens, what did I catch? ANTONIA I might have kept my promise at the moment I was making it simply because we women are wise without thought and foolish after thought. But I'll tell you my opinion, from which you can pluck the rose and leave the thorns. NANNA Go ahead, tell me. ANTONIA I say that after discarding some of all you have said and taking what is left on credit, since one always adds a few lies to the truth, and sometimes to adorn a story one tricks it out with baubles . . . NANNA So you take me for a—achew, achew—a li—liar? ANTONIA Not for a liar—rather for a person who is somewhat careless when she talks; and I believe that you have it in for nuns and married women for some other reason. Let me grant that [ 149 ]

there are more bad ones among them than there should be. As for the whores, I won't make any excuses. NANNA I can't—achew, achew—answer you, and I'm afraid that this cough will really turn into a catarrh. So hurry up and give me your advice. ANTONIA My opinion is that you should make a whore of your Pippa. The nun betrays her sacred vows and the married woman murders the holy bond of matrimony, but the whore violates neither her monastery nor her husband; indeed she acts like the soldier who is paid to do evil, and when doing it, she does not realize that she is. for her shop sells what it has to sell. The first day that a tavernkeeper opens his tavern, he does not have to put up a sign, for everyone knows that there one drinks, one eats, one gambles, one screws, betrays, and cheats, and anyone who would go there to say his prayers or start a fast would find neither altars nor Lent. Gardeners sell vegetables, druggists sell drugs, and the bordellos sell curses, lies, sluttish behavior, scandals, dishonesty, thievery, filth, hatred, cruelty, deaths, the French pox, betrayals, a bad name and poverty; but since the confessor is like the doctor who would rather cure the disease he can see on the palm of your hand than the one which is hidden from him, go there freely with Pippa and make a whore of her right off; and afterward, with the petition of a little penance and two drops of holy water, all whorishness will leave her soul. Moreover, from what I have understood of your talk, a whore's vices are really virtues. Beyond all this, it is a fine thing to be called a lady, even by gentlemen, eating and dressing always like a lady, and continually attending banquets and wedding feasts, as you yourself, who have told me so much, know better than I do. What counts is to satisfy every whim and caprice, being able to be pleasant to each and all, because Rome always was and always will be—I won't go so far as to say the whore's plaything, so as not to have to say it again to my confessor. "You speak well, Antonia," Nanna said, "and I'll do just as you have advised." After saying this in a feeble voice, she roused her maid, who had slept while they were talking, set the basket on her head again and the wine bottle in her hand, gave Antonia the napkins which she had carried under her arm that morning, and went home. [ 150 ]

After sending out for some pieces of licorice for Nanna, who stayed away from vinegar because of her cough, they dined on bread sopped in warm water and tomato. But Nanna gave Antonia something else to eat and she remained there that night, and early the next morning returned to her little store, the small business by which she barely managed to survive. Poverty had begun to irk her, but she was comforted by N anna's conversation and astounded by all the evil wrought by the world's whores, who are more numerous than the ants, flies, and mosquitoes of twenty summers put together. She was indebted to Nanna for so much enlightenment; yet Nanna had not told her the half of it. And so ends the third and last day.

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PART

TO

THE

GENTLE

AND

TWO

HONORED

MESSER

BERNARDO

VALDURA ROYAL EXAMPLE OF COURTESY,'PIETRO ARETINO

CERTAINLYif my thoughts, which are almost constantly with you, had not reminded me of you, I would have been worse off than those vices caught red-handed by the hatred that I shall eternally feel for them because of the freedom of nature granted me by the stars. Since I am deeply obligated to a whole phalanx of demi-gods, I did not know to whom to dedicate this book, which I now dedicate to you. If I had dedicated it to the King of France, I would have offended the King of the Romans; if I had offered it to the great sonin-law of Caesar and Grand Duke of Florence, who is the very light of justice and continence, I would have proven ungrateful to Ferrara's supreme goodness. If I had addressed it to the great Antonio de Leva, what would His Excellency of Mantua, the honored Marquis del Vasto, have said of me? Offering it to the good Prince of Salerno, I would displease, the faithful Count Massimiano Stampa. If I had addressed it to Don Lopes Soria, how could I have dared show my face again to Count Guide Rangone and to Signor Luigi Gonzaga, his brotherin-law, whose qualities do as much honor to arms and letters as arms and letters do honor to him? If I had presented it to the Cardinal of Lorraine, who would assure me of the Cardinal of Trent's favor? What satisfaction would I give Claudio Rangone, that blaze of glory, by putting on it the name of Signor Livio Liviano or of the generous Knight of Legge? How would I treat the excellent Signor Diomede Caraffa and my own friend Giambattista Castaldo, to whose kindness [ 153 ]

I owe so much, if I had by chance adorned it with someone else's name? But then you appeared in my mind, and this is.why I offer these dialogues to you; and your great gifts do indeed merit them and your accomplishments, which make you shine so brightly, as all my benefactors shine by theirs, eminently deserve them. And had I kept you in mind when ,1 dedicated the first three days of my Caprices to that little beast for having all the virtues of great lords, whom I hate because of their avarice, perhaps they too would have been published in your name, simply because you have thpse good qualities great men possess and whom I adore for their virtues. You are a skilled merchant in the art of procuring, and a king in the art of dispensing; nor without these would -you be joined so closely by firm flesh and blood ties to the courageous but unlucky Marco di Nicolo. Let all earthly monarchs tremble with shame! I do not speak of the wise and valorous Duke Francesco Maria, to whose merits I bow morning and evening; but rather of those who permit the praises which people habitually lavish on them and the books which are printed in their names, to be lavished not only on private gentlemen but even on monkeys! The feat of Molza and Tolomeo, who had one of their comedies played before all the lackeys and grooms of the Medici family (of illustrious memory), forcing all the high-born herd to stand outside, deserves to be placed at the right hand of Jovius' Chronicles. Homer, for example, when forming his Ulysses, did not deck him out with the variety of the sciences, but made him the wise knower of the customs of the peoples. So I try to describe other kinds of characters with the same vividness that the admirable Titian portrays this or that face. And just as good painters greatly appreciate a beautiful group of sketched figures, so I allow my works to be issued in the same way, without at all caring to embellish my words, because the real work lies in the design, and if this is well done the colors are also lovely in themselves and do not prevent cartoons from being what they are—cartoons. The whole thing is a game, yet you must do it quickly and by your own hand. Over there are my Psalms, further along is My History of Christ, beyond that are my plays, and here are my Dialogues: devout or entertaining works, according to the subject. And I have given birth to each work in almost a single [ 154 ]

day; and so that people may get some notion of what a person can accomplish with gifts received in the cradle, they shall soon hear the fury of arms and of the passions of love; whose singing I had to abandon to describe the great deeds of the august Carlo, who lifts man higher by consenting to have himself called a man than he debases the gods by now allowing people to call him one. And though I might not be worthy of any honor because of the inventions with which I infuse life into my prose, I do deserve some tiny mite of glory for having pushed the truth into the bedrooms and the ears of the powerful, rather than flattery and lies. But in order not to cheat myself of my true position and rank, I will adopt the words of the singular M. Gianiacopo, Ambassador of Urbino: "We, who spend our time in the service of princes, together with every man of the courts and each man of virtue, are now more heeded and acknowledged by our masters due to the chastisements which Pietro's pen has administered to them." And all Milan knows this statement, which came from the sacred mouth of he who in the space of a few months enriched me with two gold cups: "Aretino is more necessary to human life than all the sermons. This is the truth. And to prove that this is the truth—sermons put simple people on the right path, while his writings do the same for the lords and masters." I do not repeat this in order to boast, but simply as a way of preserving my dignity, a means employed by Eneas among those who did not know him. To conclude, accept the gift I am giving you in the same spirit that I offer it to you, and as a slight reward to me, convey my deepest reverences to Don Pedro of Toledo, Marquis of Villafranca and Viceroy of Naples.

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7 THE FIRST DAY OF MESSER PIETRO ARETINO'S CONVERSATION,

IN WHICH NANNA TEACHES

HER DAUGHTER PIPPA THE ART OF BEING A WHORE. NANNA What is this anger, this spitefulness, this rage and fury, these fits, swoonings, and caprices? What are you up to, you troublesome girl ? PIPPA I'm angry because you don't want to make me a courtesan, as my godmother Monna Antonia advised you to. NANNA A person needs a lot more than good will to dine regularly. PIPPA You're like a stepmother. NANNA Go right ahead and cry, my sweet. PIPPA I shall cry tomorrow, that's for sure. NANNA Put down your pride—put it down, I say—for if you don't change your little faults, Pippa, if you don't change them, you will never have a clout to wrap around your behind. Why nowadays whores come in hordes, and a girl who can't perform miracles of wise living will never rub a supper against a lunch. No, it's not enough to be made of good solid flesh, have lovely eyes and blond tresses—you need art or luck to get through the undergrowth, and all the rest is just bells to hang on a cat's neck. PIPPA That's what you say. NANNA And that's how it is, Pippa. But if you take my advice and open your ears wide to my memories, you will be blessed, blessed, blessed. [ 157 ]

PIPPA If you hurry to make a lady of me, I will really open them. NANNA If you listen to me and don't let yourself be distracted by every hair that flies by, your head abuzz with nonsense, as so often happens when I try to tell you something useful, then I swear to you by these Hail Fathers which I munch on anyway, in two weeks I'll have you broached good and proper. PIPPA May it be God's will, Mama. NANNA h must also be yours. PIPPA I want it, dear little Mama, golden Mama. NANNA If you want it, so do I. Now understand, my daughter, I am sure that you will become grander and greater than any of the Pope's past favorites, and I can already see you ensconced in heaven. So heed my words. PIPPA Here I am, heeding them. NANNA Pippa, though I tell people you are only sixteen, the truth is that you are twenty, round and clear, since you were born just before the opening of Leo's conclave.1 When all over Rome you could hear them crying: "Balls! balls!" I was groaning "Oh God help me!" In fact, I made you just when they were hanging the Medici ball-bedecked coat-of-arms over the gate of St. Peter's. PIPPA Then you should stop trying to sell me mist; my cousin Sandra says that men all the world over are favoring girls of eleven and twelve, and the other girls don't stand a chance. NANNA I won't deny that,'but you don't look a day more than fourteen; besides, to come back to myself, I tell you to listen to me and quit daydreaming. I want you to realize that I'm the teacher and'you're the pupil who is learning her alphabet. Indeed you can imagine that I'm the preacher and you're the worshiper. And if you really want to be a good girl, listen to me as a pupil does who doesn't want to get flogged; and if you also want to be a good Christian, try to do it the way a man who fears ending up in the Devil's abode listens to a sermon. PIPPA That's what I'm doing. NANNA Well, my daughter, the men who throw away their "The Papal conclave which elected Cardinal Giovanni de Medici (Leo X) on March 11, 1513- Trans.

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goods, honor, time, and even themselves in pursuit of sluts always complain about the stupidity of this woman or that, as though the poor trollop's nitwittedness had brought about their ruin. They curse and berate them, not realizing that the frivolities that clutter these women's heads are in fact the foundation of their good fortune. So I declare that if you are wise, you can touch with your hand all the troubles the wretches would run into if whores were not thieves, traitors, lewd bitches, ninnies, donkeys, muddleheads, goodfor-nothings, drunks, slatterns, ignoramuses, strumpets, she-devils, and worse. PIPPA But why? NANNA Because if they were as sensible as they are nasty, they wouldn't end up as they do. Most people finally get wise to the dirty tricks and murders they see them committing day and night, and after tolerating them for six, seven, even ten years, they drive them to the gallows and take greater pleasure at seeing them suffer agonies than the displeasure of seeing them rob them. So if like so many whores you want to die of hunger while gorging yourself on leprosy, cancer, and the slaughtering French disease, take care never to sit still and think for an hour. PIPPA I'm beginning to understand you. NANNA Now listen and drive my Epistles and Gospels deep into your head. I'll make them crystal clear in two words when I say: if a doctor, a philosopher, a merchant, a soldier, a monk, a hermit, a gentleman, a monsignor, and a Solomon can be made to look like a fool by such flibbertigibbets, how do you think a woman with some salt in her noggin would treat these baboons? PIPPA Badly, that's how she would treat them. NANNA So becoming a whore is not a profession for ordinary girls, and I who know it all too well am in no great haste to have you reamed. Yes indeed, a girl must know something more than just lifting her skirt and crying: "Stick it in, I'm ready"—at least if she doesn't want to fail the very day she opens her shop for business. To get to the marrow of the matter: you can be.sure that, once they hear you've been punctured, many, many men will rush to be the first to be served, and I'll resemble a confessor who gives absolution to a mob, with all sorts of secrets being buzzed into my ear by the emis[ 159 ]

saries of this man and that; and you can bet that you'll always be booked in advance by at least a dozen of them, and to take care of them a week would have to have more days than a month. But now watch me as I play my part and reply to the manservant of Messer So-and-So: "Yes," I say, "it's true, my Pippa has been caught, God knows how—get a godmother and you'll always get a bawd—but I'll pay the bitch back, don't you worry. My daughter is purer than a dove. It's not her fault; and you can take Nanna's word for it, she only let him do it to her once. The man who wants me to hand her over to him has to be somebody really important, though your master has so charmed and enchanted me that I can't get my tongue to say no. Yes, she will come just a little after the Ave Maria." And as soon as I say this and the messenger is about to run off with my reply, you must immediately scamper through the house and, pretending your hair has come undone, let it fall to your shoulders, and as you enter the room raise your face a bit so the servant can get a look at you. PIPPA What's the point of doing that? NANNA There's a point, because all manservants are pimps and hound dogs for their masters. And as soon as this fellow I am talking about reaches his master, in order to pl#y up to him and even while he's still heaving and panting, he'll say: "Master, I worked so hard for you that I even saw the girl. She has hair like threads of gold, two eyes so bright they would put a falcon's in the shade—and another thing: I mentioned your name just to see how she would react at hearing it. What do you think ? She was ready to burn me up with a sigh." PIPPA What good will such lies do me? NANNA They will thrust you into the good graces of the man who desires you, making it seem a thousand years when he waits for you only an hour. How many dupes do you think there are who fall in love simply from hearing maids brag about their mistresses, and go wild with passion when these liars and idlers praise the women to the arches of the sky? PIPPA So the maids are the same as the manservants? NANNA And worse. Now you shall go to the house of the good man, whom I am offering you as a for-instance, and I shall come with you. When we arrive he will hasten out to meet you, [ 160 ]

either at the head of the stairs or the entrance way. Be sure your entire person is neat and set to rights, for you may have become a bit mussed on the way; and then, bringing your arms close to your sides and stealing a sidewise glance at his companions, who will usually be standing a step or so behind him, fix your eyes humbly on his, make a perfumed bow all around, and then greet them as do brides and women who have just given birth (as Perugina says) when their husband's friends or relations shake them by the hand. PIPPA And perhaps I should blush as I am doing it. NANNA If you do I shall be very happy, for the cosmetic which modesty paints on a young girl's cheeks tears men's souls right out of their bodies. PIPPA All right, I understand. NANNA When the greetings are over, the first thing that the man with whom you are going to sleep will do is make you sit at his side, and he will caress me too. Meanwhile, in order to make his guests turn and stare at your face,' I will keep my eyes on you, pretending that I am astounded by your beauty. He will then start speaking to you in this fashion: "My dear lady, your mother has good reason to adore you; other women just make women, but she gives birth to angels." And if, while saying these words, he bends over to kiss your eye or forehead, turn gently toward him and heave a soft sigh which he can barely hear; and if you can manage another blush at the same time, you will burn him to a crisp from the very start. PIPPA Ah, really? NANNA On my oath. PIPPA And the reason? NANNA The reason is that simultaneously sighing and blushing are the signs of love and set the passion hammers throbbing. And since the other men keep their distance, the man who will enjoy you that night will begin to imagine that you are really gone on him, and he'll believe it all the more if you continue to persecute .him with looks and stares. And as he is talking to you, he will gradually draw you into a corner, and summoning the sweetest, cleverest words, will start to butter you up. Here you must answer him properly and pleasantly, and in a gentle voice make an effort to say something that doesn't stink of the brothel. In the meantime, the company, which [ 161 ]

has been clustered around me, will start drifting toward you, like snakes that slither through the grass, making various remarks and laughing and cracking jokes. You must keep your head and whether talking or silent act in such a way that both seem equally lovely in your mouth. And when you talk to one man or another, look at him without lewdness, as monks look at nuns who keep their vows. And you must feed only our friend who has given you dinner and a bed for the night on greedy glances and come-hither words. And when you want to laugh, don't raise your voice whorishly, gaping your mouth and displaying everything you have in your throat, but laugh in such a way that no feature of your face becomes any less beautiful; just the opposite—increase your beauty by smiling and making your eyes gleam and twinkle, and rather let a tooth fall out of your mouth than an ugly expression. Swear neither by God nor the saints, and don't insist on saying: "No, that isn't so," nor take offense at some remark they might make to you, because there are some men who enjoy teasing girls in your profession. What's more, a woman who is always attending her own wedding must garb herself more in charm and amiability than in velvet, and prove to be ladylike in all of her acts. And when dinner is served, although you should be the first to wash your hands and sit down at the table, force them to call you more than once, because nothing makes a girl grander than a show of shyness. PIPPA I shall do it. NANNAadfkjAnd when you reach the salad, don't dive in like cow into clover; but bite off tiny mouthfuls without smearing the tips of your fingers with oil, and carry them to your mouth, which you should not lower to lap the food off the plate, as I have so often seen certain wenches do. Always keep majestically erect, extending your hand graciously. And when you ask for drink, do it with a nod of your head; and if the decanters are on the table, help yourself. Don't fill the glass to the brim but only a trifle more than half full, and bringing it prettily to your lips, never, never drink it down in one gulp. PIPPA But say I'm very thirsty? NANNAjajhgJust the same, drink very little, so that you don'tet the reputation of a glutton and a drunk. And never chew your food [ 162 ]

with your mouth open, irritatingly and coarsely, but in such a manner that you scarcely seem to be eating. And while at table talk as little as possible; and unless you are actually asked something, make sure that the chatter doesn't start with you. If the man who carves offers you a capon's or a partridge's wing or breast, take it with a bow, meanwhile glancing at your lover with a gesture that begs his permission without begging for it. And when you have finished eating, don't belch, for the love of God. PIPPA And what would happen if a belch did slip out? NANNAkjhAlas, you Would fall headfirst into filth, not to say the lowest of the filthy. PIPPA And if I follow all your teachings and more, what will happen then? NANNAhjuWhy then you will become famous as the most talented and gracious courtesan alive. When talking about you to others everyone will say: "Quiet there; because the shadow of Signora Pippa's shoes is worth more than that bitch You-Know-Who when she's dressed to kill," and those who know you will be your slaves and go about town proclaiming your virtues. So you will be more sought after than people shun those who have robberies, swindles, and other malignities to their credit; and as you can well imagine I shall be brimming with bliss. PIPPA Then when we have finished dining what must I do ? NANNAlkjmChat for a bit with whoever happens to be seated nex to you, though being careful all the time never to leave your lover's side. And when the time for bed comes, I shall return home; and you, after having said in a reverential voice: "Good night, your lordships," should be less afraid of fire than of letting yourself be seen or heard peeing, easing your bowels, or dabbing your face with a handkerchief, for such things would make a chicken vomit, and they peck at all sorts of shit. And after you are shut up in the bedroom, look around to see if there is a towel or coif that suits you; and without asking for it, begin praising the towels and the coifs. PIPPAkjhTo what end? NANNAljjlkSo that in the end the dog who is after the bitch wil offer you either one or the other. PIPPAlkjkjhAnd if he offers me bot? [ 163 ]

NANNAlkjhSlip him a kiss with the tip of your tongue, and accept. PIPPA It shall be done. NANNAkjhThen, as he is rushing into bed, you must start undressing very slowly, muttering a few words to yourself and mingling them with a few sighs, so that when you Slide into bed at his side, he is sure to ask you: "My soul, why are you sighing?" Then heave another heartfelt sigh and say: "Your lordship has cast a spell on me," and as you say this hug him tightly. Then, after you have kissed him again and again, make the sign of the cross, pretending that you forgot to before getting into bed. And if you do not want to say your prayers, move your lips a bit so that it seems you bring good breeding to everything you do. In the meantime the brigand, who waited for you in bed like a man with a ferocious hunger runs to the table even before the bread and wine have been set out, will start caressing your tits and shoving his face between them as though he wanted to drink them; then his hands will slide down your body little by little until they're right on your little monkey, and after touching it again and again, he will begin to palp and knead your thighs. But the cheeks of the ass are the real lodestone; they draw the hands all by themselves, take my word for it. And after having made a great fuss over them, he will start trying to turn you over, shoving his knee between your legs, for he doesn't dare ask for it outright the very first time. You must hold firm; even if he begins to whine like a baby and resorts to the most fanciful pleas, don't turn over. PIPPA But say he forces me to ? NANNAlkjjhgNobody can force a woman, you silly g PIPPA But why should I let him do it more in front than behind ? NANNAlkjhSimpleton, you really talk like the silly girl you are Now tell me, what is worth more—a julio or a ducat? PIPPA Oh, I see—silver is worth less than gold. NANNAlkjfYou've said it. But just now I thought of a fine trick. PIPPA Teach it to me. NANNAkjhAh, this is lovely, marvelous. PIPPkjhjuytCome, tell me, Mam NANNAlkjiIf despite everything he keeps on shoving the lever [ 164 ]

between your thighs to turn you over the way he wants you, feel around to see if he has a chain on his arms or rings on his fingers; and while the big fly is flitting around you, tempted as he is by the smell of the roast, try and see if he will allow you to take them off. If he does, then let him do it; and once you've taken his jewels, you can swindle him to a standstill. If not, say to him: "So your lordship wants to go the back way and do these nasty things?" Once you've said that, he will return to the straight and narrow and mount you properly; and then you must behave like a good daughter and do it with a will, Pippa, because the caresses that make cocksmen come quickly spell their ruin, and when you bestow them with especial sweetness, you murder them. Besides, a whore who does that particular job well and neatly is like a dry goods dealer who sells his goods at a stiff price, and one can compare the lewd tricks, the sly twists, squeezes, and titillations of an adept and crafty whore to the goods that come out of a dry goods dealer's shop. PIPPA What a strange comparison you make. NANNAkjhWell, look here, this is a dry goods dealer: he has gloves, looking glasses, laces, beads, ribbons, thimbles, needles, girdles, buttons, fringes, soaps, sweet-scented oils, Cyprus powder, wigs, and a hundred thousand different items. So in her shop a whore has sweet little words, laughs, kisses, and killing looks; but all this is nothing, for she has in her hands, cunt, and ass all the rubies, pearls, diamonds, and emeralds, the very melody of this world. PIPPA But how? NANNAlkjhHow, you say? There's not a single man who does not touch heaven with his finger when the girl he is making love to, while slipping her tongue into the side of his mouth, grabs his rod and by squeezing it two or three times brings it erect and then, as soon as it is stiff and straight, gives it a last little shake and leaves it dripping with passion; then, after waiting a while, she takes his balls in the palm of her hand and starts scratching them tenderly; after this, she slaps his behind, starts tickling his hair down there, and begins again to pull at his stake so adroitly that the darling little pizzle, which is all aglow, resembles someone who wants to puke but can't manage it. But now the dandy, worked up to fever heat by all these lovely caresses, has grown huge, and he wouldn't trade his pleasure for that [ 165 ]

of a pig being scratched; and when he sees himself being mounted by the woman he was going to ride, he dissolves with delight like a man who is coming. PIP?A What do I hear? NANNAlkjgListen carefully and learn how to sell your goods. By my oath, Pippa, if a woman who gets on top of her lover does just a particle of what I shall tell you, she will be able to extract money from shinbones with greater skill than dice and cards steal it from gamblers. PIPPA I can believe you. NANNAlkjhYou can bank on it. PIPPA So that's what you want me to do with the man I am to sleep with? NANNAlkjhYes, and be sure to. PIPPA But how can I do it when he's on top of me ? NANNAlkjhgThere are plenty of ways to get him to jump of PIPPA Show me one. NANNAlkjhHere it is: whiie he's pumping away, start to cry, hold back, stop moving, and fall silent. If he asks you what's wrong, you can even let out a groan, and then he will have to stop and say: "My dear heart, am I hurting you? Are you displeased at the pleasure I am taking?" And you say to him: "My dear old chap, I should like . . ." But stop right there, and he'll ask you: "What?" and you just moan. Finally, by words and hints, make it clear to him that you want to break a lance with him in the Giannetta style, man on bottom, woman on top. PIPPA Now remember that I am where you say I should be. NANNAlkjhIf you in your fantasy are doing what I want you to do, squat down over him; and when you are nicely settled twine your arms around his neck and kiss him quickly, ten times in a row. Then, after grabbing his pestle in your hand, clutch it so tightly that it begins to go wild; and when it is blazing hot, shove it straight into your socket and push against it so hard that the spoke goes in all the way, and then, suddenly, come to a dead stop and kiss him. After having lain there quietly for a while, sigh as though you were dying with delight and whisper to him: "If I come, will you come too?" The stud will answer in a voice blurred with passion: "Yes, my [ 166 ]

hope!" Then you must act as if his halberd was a spindle and your patch of wild thyme the wheel on which it revolves, and start pushing down on it with a rolling twist. And if you see that he is about to come, stop again and say: "Not yet, my life," and ramming your tongue deep into his mouth, while making sure not to let his key slip out of your keyhole, push, wriggle, and bear down mightily, driving it in firmly and sweetly, thrusting with the point and cutting with the edge, touching all the keys like a true paladin and, to cut the story short, I would wish that you did this business with all the clever feints and moves and twists and turns soccer players adopt when they have the ball in their hands—they fake so adeptly, pretending to run this way or that, that they slip by the man who tries to block them and kick the ball just where they please. PIPPA First you warn me to be respectable, and then you instruct me in the most shameless lewdness. NANNAlkjhI'm not contradicting myself. I want you to be as great a whore in bed as you are respectable elsewhere. And I want you to behave in bed as if all the caresses a woman can possibly imagine will be lavished on the man who sleeps with you; and I want you always to be ready to scratch him where it itches. Ha ha ha! PIPPA What's so funny? NANNAlkjhI am laughing at the excuse men concoct when their tails won't stand up straight. PIPPA And what is that? NANNAlkjhThey put the blame on their excessive love. Certainly, if they didn't have this excuse, they would be more nonplussed than doctors are when patients, asked if they moved their bowels, say yes; for then they don't know what remedy to prescribe. So they are put to shame like old men who, after getting on top of us, can only satisfy us with doubloons and sweet talk. PIPPA That's just what I wanted to ask you: how should I behave when I am under some slobbering farter who stinks above and below, and how I should react when being plagued by his lying on me all night. My cousin tells me about some girl who fainted the first time she did it. NANNAlkjhMy dear daughter, the sweet smell of money prevents the stench of rotten breath or filthy feet from reaching your nose. It [ 167 ]

is much worse to get a slap than to breathe in the horrid smell from the mouth of the man who's paying you; in fact, they pay with the weight of good gold for the sufferings one undergoes due to their defects. Now pay close attention, because I want to tell you how to tune in to all sorts of music, and how to handle the men's different organs, so that if you are willing to bear them patiently, you will be more the mistress of what they possess than I am yours and you are mine. P1PPA So tell me more about these old fogies. NANNAlkjhWell, here you are at dinner with 'these superannuated lechers, who have loads of good will but weak legs. Now, Pippa, there is food galore, all the wines you can order, and gentlemanly chitchat; and anyone who listened to these blowhards boasting would say: "These men must be world-beaters in bed." And if their prowess there came anywhere near the brave deeds they perform on pheasants and malmsey wine, they would make Roland weep with shame. Oh, if they satisfied their women as much by screwing as they do by giving them good things to eat at the table, the women would be unbearably happy! These conceited, eager men put their hopes in peppers, truffles, thistles, and certain burning electuaries that come from France, and stuff their guts more diligently than a peasant crams himself with grapes, expecting to accomplish miracles by gulping down oysters without chewing them beforehand. At dinners like this you can gorge yourself without standing on ceremony. PIPPA Why? NANNAlkjhBecause their pleasure is to feed you as a mother feeds her children. They get more satisfaction out of seeing you eat as if starved, than a horse from hearing the whistle of the groom who waters him. What's more, old men are the enemies of ceremony. PIPPA So, eating with them, I could be a little less prim, eh? NANNAlkjhBy the cross of God you have understood me perfectly! And if you keep on going like this from better to best, the other whores will be left far behind, like priests who receive little or no alms. But I'd forgotten to warn you not to wipe your teeth with your napkin, nor rinse them with pure water soon after having dined with the old men, as you would when dining with young ones. They [ 168 ]

might take offense, thinking to themselves: "This woman is poking fun at our shaky teeth, which are stuck in our mouths with wax." PIPPA I want to clean them, and just to spite them. NANNAlkjhWhat foolishness! PIPPA All right, I won't clean them. NANNAlkjhYou can pick at them on the sly with a sprig of rosemary. PIPPA Come, let's go to bed with him. NANNAlkjhHa ha ha! I can't help laughing because they will have to stay away from the toilet as I said you should beware doing! O, the awful farts and stenches they let loose! A blacksmith's bellows does not blow so hard! And screwing up their mugs with the effort, they force themselves to shit out boles, holding a paper twist of pine cones in their hands to soothe the cough that torments them. Though it is quite true that when they've taken off their doublets, they're a joy to look at. In any case, they remember the days of their youth as jackasses and kittens remember green vinebranches; they are all excited, and filled with more gusto than ever. I could not repeat all the pretty verses they reel off to flatter the nymph as they hug her and the silly prattle which nurses use with infants, who do not know what they want, is their sweetmeats and candies. They lay the sparrow-hawk in your hand, suck on your nipples, straddle you, making you writhe this way and twist that, while you, tickling them under the arms and along the thighs, are getting busy; and when you have got them where you want them, grab the root again and pull at it so cleverly, with such fantasy, that it lifts its head, the blockhead. PIPPA So even these old cockers rise up proudly? NANNAlkjhSometimes, but they come down quickly too. If you had only seen your father (may God bless him!) trying to sit up in bed during his illness and immediately falling back, you would have seen these flabby old men's pizzles, which are like earthworms that fold back in themselves and push out again as they crawl along. PIPPA Mama, you have taught me what I must do when I am on top, and all the frills I can add, but not how I should wind things up. NANNAlkjhDon't say another word because I have got your drift,

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and I am so proud to see how much at home you are in these affairs that I am overjoyed. Now, going back, I must tell you, as you wish me to, how all these blandishments will help you as you are riding the fucker (to put it in the current lingo). PIPPA You've caught it by the forelock. NANNAlkjhDon't you recall, Pippa, the story Zoppino tells when he sings the legend of Campriano at the market? PIPPA Was it that Zoppino who everyone ran to hear when he sang ? NANNAlkjhThat's the fellow. Do you recollect how you laughed when we were visiting my godfather Piero and you listened to him, together with Luchina \and Lucietta ? ' PIPPA Yes, my lady. NANNAlkjhAnd so you know that Zoppino sang a tale about how Campriano thrust three livres worth of pennies up his donkey's backside and, taking him to Siena, sold him for two hundred ducats to two traders, giving them to understand that he shit coins of the realm. PIPPA Ha ha ha! NANNAlkjhThen he would continue telling the story to the midway point; and when he had gathered a mob about him, he would turn his cape inside out and without giving himself time to finish the tale would start talking about a thousand other fooleries. PIPPA I don't like that. NANNAlkjDo you know, staff of my old age, what will happen to you if you don't let me finish telling my story? PIPPA What? NANNAlkjhThe same thing that happens to a man who watches someone dive under water while swimming; he always sees him reappear where he never thought he would. Well, as I say, you have brought him with your clever handling to a state of bliss so that he is all ready to spit out the snail without a shell; and then you stop suddenly and cry: "I can't bear it any more," and then let him beg and plead but keep on saying: "No, I can't go on." PIPPA I'll also say that I don't want to. NANNAlkjhSay it, but if you do he will become as frenzied as a man burned up by a fever who sees a bucket of fresh spring water, [ 170 ]

which his servant out of pity has drawn from the well and brought to him, and he can't wait, but tears it out of his hand. And when he sees you about to dismount from the saddle, he will promise you all sorts of great things; but don't be swayed. In the end, flinging you his purse, he will give you all of it. While pretending you don't want it, you will stretch out your hand to grab it, because saying "I don't want to" and "I can't" just at the sweet summit are in fact the secret recipes of the screw Zoppino sold when he left the delighted crowd high and dry by cutting short his Campriano story. P1PPA He made a fool of the goose. Now let's get to the old geezer. NANNAlkjhThe geezer, sweating and soughing more than a man whose arsehole is letting loose an uproar of luscious farts, will then run you ragged by doing it and not doing it; and afterwards you've got to soothe him with sweet talk—there's no escape. So, laying your face on his breast, you must whimper: "Who is your little angel? Who is your blood? Who is your daughter? Oh, Papa, my darling Papa, my dearest Papa, am I not your little pet?" and scratching and tickling each and every wrinkle and wen you find on him, sing him a lullaby, humming it softly as though he were a babe in arms. And I am certain that he will answer you like an infant, calling you his mama, his good little mama, his darling little mama. As all this is afoot, attack him head on and feel under the pillow to see if his purse is there. If it is, don't leave him a cent; and if it isn't, make sure you get it. You've got to bring all your cunning and artfulness into play, since these tightwads can argue over a penny for four hours if a woman doesn't know how to jolly them along; and if they promise you gowns or necklaces, don't let them show you their backs until the gift is ordered. Then, and only then, with his finger or whatever the hell he wants to use, let him do it in front or back, and I wouldn't give you a pistachio nut for the upshot. PIPPA Never fear. You can count on me. NANNAlkjhNow pay attention: these old men are awfully jealous and fly into terrible rages, tossing their hands about and cursing like troopers; but if you know how to coddle them, not only will gifts shower down on you but you'll also get a great kick out of them. Why, I feel I can just see him, an old man more decrepit than the [ 171 ]

great-grandfather of the anti-Christ, wearing breeches and a brocaded doublet all cuts and slashes, with a velvet cap topped by a plume, covered with tag-points and a diamond hammer in the center of his gold medal, his beard of the finest silver, his trembling arms and legs, his sharp, withered face—yes, I can just see him gimping along, tottering up and down before your house all day, hissing, moaning, and snorting like cats in January, and I am almost pissing in my drawers with laughter when I think of a wonderful swindle which will remake the millennium. PIPPA Tell it to me. NANNAlkjhA sly charlatan gave the old man to understand that he had a dye for beard and hair which was so jet black that compared to it devils are white. But he wanted to sell it so dearly that the old man let several days go by before coming around. Finally, since he felt that his leeklike head and towlike beard were ruining his reputation as a lover, he counted out twenty-five Venetian ducats into the hand of the charlatan, who, either as a joke or to cheat him, turned his hair and beard the brightest purple that the tail of a Barbary horse or a Turk was ever dyed, and his hair had to be all shaved off down to the hide. So for some time he was the talk of the town; in fact they're still laughing over it. PIPPA Ha ha ha! I can just see him, the old fool; but if a man like that falls into my clutches, I want him to be my clown. NANNAlkjhNot at all, behave in the opposite way. Never mock him on any score and especially when other people are present, because one should always revere old age. Besides, you would be considered a vile and wicked woman if you poked fun at such a person. I want to show you how to hold him close in your heart, bowing to him at every bit of nonsense he xitters. So it will come about that other old men will grow young by loving you; and if you absolutely must laugh at him, do it here in private, among ourselves. PIPPA You can bet I will, for when I laugh at him I want it to be a real horse laugh. NANNAlkjhBut now let's go on to the nobility. PIPPA Yes, let's. NANNAlkjhWell, a nobleman asks for you, and I take you there or you go by yourself, it doesn't matter which. Here it is best to put [ 172 ]

on a good show, because noblemen are accustomed to great ladies and derive more pleasure from gossiping and chitchat than from other things. So you must know how to talk, answer to the point, not skipping from branch to bough, for then his lordship and his servants will make sneering faces at you behind your back. And don't sit there like a ninny or an owl, but do everything graciously; and if they are playing music or singing, listen attentively to the music and the song, and praise the musicians and singers, even if you take no delight in them and do not understand what they are doing. If there is a scholar present, approach him with a happy countenance, showing him that you hold him highly, even more highly than the lord of the manor. PIPPA Why do that? NANNAlkjhOut of respect. PIPPA Now, come on! NANNAlkjhWhy, all you need is for one of these fellows to write a book against you, and everywhere the talk will be about the slanders they're so good at inventing about us women. You would be in a nice fix if someone were to print your life, as a certain idler has printed mine, as if there weren't worse whores than myself in this world! If he had crammed the pages of his book with the doings of the sort of woman I'm talking about, the sun itself would go into eclipse; instead, all the noise that's been made about my piddling affairs! And those who reproach me for what I said about nuns say: "She lied about everything," not realizing that I told it all to Antonia just to make her laugh and not to say bad things about them, as I could easily have done; but the world isn't what it used to be, nor can a person who knows how to exist live in it any longer. PIPPA Now don't get mad. NANNAlkjhLook, Pippa, I have been a nun, and I left them because I had to; and if I had wanted to tell Antonia about how they get married and call their monk "my dear lover" while the monk calls his nun "my darling sweetheart," I could very well have done so. Why, if one just told the stories those broth-lappers tell their lovers when fhey come back from some place they've been preaching, it would stupefy the stigmata. For I know quite well what they do with the widows who give them shirts, handkerchiefs, and dinners; I know their intrigues and their imbroglios. She was most likely a grand lady, [ 173 ]

the mistress of some preacher, who, as he was inveighing from his pulpit like a dragon, marking them all down as damned, dropped in the crowd listening to his sermon like wonder-struck snotnoses his biretta which she kept stuffed up her sleeve. So then the worshipers saw the hidden embroidery; in its center, on the inside, was a heart of flesh-colored satin burning in a fire of pink silk, and all around the edge in black letters one could read: "Love demands fidelity, and the ass demands the club." At this the whole crowd roared with laughter and preserved the biretta as a relic. As for the pictures of Saint Nafissa and Masetto da Lampolecchio, there is no truth in them at all, but certainly, instead of these pictures, one may see hanging on the walls hairshirts, scourges with iron spikes, sharp-toothed combs, sandals with leather thongs, radishes to testify to the fasts they do not undergo, wooden goblets in which water is meted out to those who suffer abstinences, dead men's skulls to lead them to reflect on their end, shackles, ropes, manacles, whips, all things to fill with fear those who gaze at them, but not those who sin or hung them there. PIPPA Is it possible there are so many stories to tell ? NANNAlkjhThere are a great many more which I can't remember. But what would any of those ignoramuses, those turd-smellers, have said if I had made public how the mistress of the novices reacts whenever Sister Crescentia or Sister Gaudentia couples with a dog ? Gossips who stir up the beer dregs, may you all be pilloried, since you find fault with the speech of someone who could send you all to school. PIPPA What, aren't people allowed to talk as they please? NANNAlkjhThey've kicked up such a fuss, the.fools, as if they did nothing but criticize those who speak in the style of their native dialect! Why, they slice away at their own expressions as a housewife slices a radish. I beg you, please, my dear daughter, do not forsake the speech which your dear little mother taught you; leave all "in such a manner's" and "directly's" to affected courtiers, and cry quits when these dames, using certain new, penetrative terms, say: "Go, that the Heavens may be propitious for you and the hour propinquinous," just so they can look down their noses at those who speak plainly and say "hurry," "soon," "in a jiffy," "pant," "blockhead," "gushes out," "gloomy," "dark," and a hundred thousand other unaffected expressions of everyday speech. [ 174 ]

PIPPA The crows! NANNAlkjhYou have dubbed them well, since they want us to say "forthwith" and not "right away," "moisture" and not "wet"; and if you should ask them why, they'll answer that "he carries" and "he fetches" do not come under the same rule, so that from now it is even dangerous to open your mouth. But I, who am myself, speak as I please and not with my cheeks puffed out, spitting forth brine; I walk on my own feet and not those of a crane; I say the words as they trip to my tongue; I don't lift them out of my mouth with a fork, because they are words and not confectionaries; when I speak I resemble a woman and not a magpie. So Nanna is Nanna, while this rabble goes about shitting out verbigratia, putting hair on the egg that was never there, and do not even have enough credit to cover their assholes, and to sum it all up, find fault with everything without doing anything, and never will get their names out of the taverns, while my name has been trotted all the way to Turkey. So, blockheads, I intend to frame and weave my cloth in keeping with my own notions, because I know where to find the yarn to fill up the empty rows and have plenty of hanks of thread to darn and patch my runs and cuts. PIPPA Those abortions should go and poke up the anthills. They would croak if one day we didn't screw them under their very eyes, since they grouse about our way of talking. NANNAlkjhWe certainly shall. Now that I think of it, a gypsy, a fairy, a witch who teaches parrots how to talk asked me only a day ago what these words meant: "to prate," "to dote," "qualm," "whim," "mid-day," "jump with joy," "half limp," "he slides," and "he rasps"; and while I was explaining the characters to her, she was writing them all down. Now she parades them as if they were flour from her own sack. But I, who get along as best I can, don't give a damn, nor would I bother my head to discover whether "nullities" is clumsier than "nothing." PIPPA Let's not waste any more time on these carpers, because my head is getting all mixed up and I might forget everything that matters most to me. NANNAlkjhYou're right. It's just that I get so angry when these snobs, who try to catch you out by concocting godawful messes and piquant sauces out of famished words, and, with the pertinacity of [ 175 ]

ticks and crablice, try to triumph at all costs. They've made me leave the tilled field for the fallow. But I remember now: I was telling you that you must play up to the scholars one often finds dining at the tables of noblemen. PIPPA That's just what you were saying. NANNAlkjhFlatter them, converse with them, and so that they will think you adore the scholarly virtues, beg them to recite a sonnet, a song in octaves, a satire in triplets, or suchlike foolishness. And when they do, kiss them and thank them as if they had just given you jewels. And whenever they come knocking at your door, always let them in, for they are discreet and, if they see you are occupied, will leave without further ado, returning to court you as soon as the others have been sent away. PIPPA And if I didn't feel like opening the door to them, what would happen? NANNAlkjhhYou would be flogged and flayed with the fierce slander that was ever heard. For, between their brains, which froth up and go into a tizzy at every new phase of the moon, and their natural disappointment, they would become boiling mad; so tread warily. And since it's the habit of women never to string two words together without going back for advice to the men they sleep with, I want to tell you a cute little trick which, as I was talking about the old men, slipped my mind. PIPPA It must be a fine one, if you go back on purpose to tell me about it. NANNAlkjhHa! I want you, Pippa, to pick up five of those candies which are scattered over the table after the cloth is removed and, after mixing them up, say: "If they make a lovely cross, my dear old man loves only me; but if the cross is crooked, he adores So-and-So." If the cross comes out right, Pippa, lift your hands to heaven; and then, opening your arms wide, hug and kiss him, adorning all this with as many endearments as you can imagine. And then you will see him fall at your feet, like a man dying of the heat cowers on the floor to catch a breath of air. If, say, the cross turns out badly, try if possible to squeeze out a few tears, accompanied by a few heartstealing sighs, get up from your chair and go to the fire, making a show of stirring it with the tongs to work off your anger. When he [ 176 ]

sees this, the ox of a cretin will hurl himself at you and childishly swear his love for you by his body, blood, and everlasting faith. And when you go off to the bedroom with him, pick a fight over some trifle or other before making peace. PIPPA I shall use that, Mama. NANNAlkjhI have no other faith, my dear daughter. Well, here you are at the nobleman's house, a man who brags about his loves and says: "Lady Such-and-Such, Madame So-and-So, the Duchess and the Queen [and may the shit fill his throat!] did me a favor, and this other lady did that"; and you must praise the favors and express astonishment that the lovely damsels of Tunis are not all rushing to be baptized so that they can drag him down on them. And when he starts talking about the feats he performed during the siege of Florence or the sack of Rome, sidle up to the man sitting beside you and remark so that the clod will hear you: "Oh what a handsome lord! He's so good-looking I can't bear it"; and he, pretending not to have heard a word, will start preening himself like a peacock. And keep in mind that whoever does not resort to stratagems with them, as courtiers in the bad old evil days did with the monsignors, putting their scurrilities above the hierarchy, becomes their enemy. PIPPA So I've heard. NANNAlkjhAdulation and deceit are, as they say, the darlings of the grandees; so with these men even overdo the soft soap, if you want to get anything out of them, else you'll return home with a full belly and an empty purse. And if it weren't that their friendship is more honorable than lucrative, I would teach you to avoid them. They want to be the only ones to enjoy the grub; and since they are lords, they don't want anyone lese to bear the title. And if you don't open your door or come to it they think nothing more of having their grooms assault your door, your street, your windows, and even your maid than they think of spitting on the ground. They are like those dirty curs that come upon a pack of puppies mounting a bitch and, after chasing them away with growls or bites, hog it all for themselves. There's no doubt that such behavior puts wings on the heels of whoever is afraid to compete with them, while it is perfect for those women who love the smoke more than the roast. PIPPA May God help me with those lords! [ 177 ]

NANNAlkjhBut I will give you a neat little trick which, even if the clodhopper drops dead, will still cost him something. When His Excellency begins undressing for bed, take his cap and set it on your head, put on his doublet, and take two turns around the room. No sooner does the gentleman see you transformed from a woman into a man than he will leap on you as hunger does on a hot loaf; and not being able to wait till you get into bed, he will want you to prop your head against wall or chest. What I mean to say is that you should let yourself be drawn and quartered first before yielding to him, unless he presents you with his cap and doublet so that on future occasions you can come to him dressed in the clothes which most delight our lords. PIPPA I understand! NANNAlkjhBut above all study deceit and flattery, as I have told you, for these are the embroideries that adorn the gown of the woman who knows how to get by. Men want to be duped; and although they realize that you are tricking them and that as soon as you leave them you will mock them, boasting about it even with your maids, yet they prefer fake caresses to real ones that lack the sugar of flattery. Never be niggardly with kisses, melting looks, smiles, laughter, and glib gab; hold his hand at all times, and now and then nip his lips with your teeth, forcing him to give vent to that sweet cry a man lets out when he feels pierced by bliss. The whore's chief rule is to flimflam Sir Credulous. PIPPA You're not talking to a deaf person or a mute. NANNAlkjhI am thinking . . . PIPPA About what? NANNAlkjhAbout myself, trying to teach you the right path by which to arrive where I want to see you arrive. By teaching you I put on the alert all those who will have dealings with you, for, knowing what I'm telling you, they would also know not to believe you when you set about being crafty. And so all my advice would be like one of those paintings that look from all sides at him who looks at them. PIPPA Who do you think would spread the word ? NANNAlkjhThis room, that bed over there, these chairs we are sitting on, that little window yonder, and this fly that wants to nibble [ 178 ]

my nose, may the devil take it! Noblemen are also presumptuous, and surpass in importunity those jealous men who, with all their subterfuges, become an annoyance to themselves by trying to keep an eye on a woman who can't be kept in view when she decides to do them dirt. With that type of beast you must learn to act wisely and put horns on him instead of explanations. Well, come, here we are—you are the lover of one man whose presence is irksome to another man, who may be useful to you, not as much as the first, but in a way that is more to your liking:'The first man will order you not to open your door to him, not to speak to him or accept anything from him. At this you must swear the most diabolical oaths with a brazen face, shaking your head and yelling and making other gestures, all to show amazement at the man who thinks you would exchange him for that sheep. And you must add: "We are really in trouble if you think I would throw myself away on that donkey-faced imbecile"; then demand that he have you watched, offer to pay the spies out of your own pocket and to stay locked up in your room, and actually do it. And then if his suspicions still don't disappear, don't lose a minute, but use all you have wheedled out of him and spend it on luxuries for the poor exile, taking him into your house when the jealous man goes out, either with the excuse that he's bringing wood for fuel or fetching dough for the oven. If his frenzy gets worse, tell your lover to come at night; and hide him in the maid's room, where you must be sure to set a chamber pot so that you can empty your bowels. And then that evening be sure to eat something that gives you the runs, or pretend you have a pain in your side. In any event, leave the first man, moaning and groaning as you do, and rush to him who has been waiting for you fife in hand and will forge two spikes for you in a single blast of heat. And the sweet bliss that will swarm through you will make you cry more "Oh, my God's" and "Christ, I'm dying's" and bear even greater pain than the mothering malady. Having finished your job, return to him relieved of all discomfort; and this is the recipe for saving both the goat and cabbages, as Cardinal Armellino's majordomo used to say. PIPPA I shall do it. NANNAlkjhNow if that the looney smells a rat, stick your hand on your breast, deny everything, and with a firm face go on [ 179 ]

repeating: "Slander!" If he becomes furious, you must act humbly and say: "So you take me for one of those women, do you? And if people gossip, can I stop their tongues? If I had wanted other men, I wouldn't have chosen you; nor would I have become a nun and recluse for your sake." And while you are making this fuss, slip under him and embrace him as tightly as you can. If he gives you a few slaps in the face, patience, for he will soon have to pay for both the doctors and their prescriptions. All the cajolery and caresses that you soothed him with, he will have to return threefold to console you, not to mention the fact that the "Please forgive me's" and "I was wrong to believe it's" will stimulate you so much that you will become good and loving to him. But if you confess your sin or try to get revenge for those four slaps that come and go, you will either run the risk of losing him or making him so angry that it won't work for your benefit. So it is clear that the real difficulty is keeping lovers, not acquiring them. PIPPA There's not a doubt of it. NANNAlkjhTurn the card, and now you'll find a man who isn't jealous and yet loves you, despite all those who say that one can't love without jealousy. There is an herb for men made from this mold which one has to administer; just a nibble of it can throw a whole whorehouse into fits of jealousy. PIPPA What herb is this? NANNAlkjhGet someone you can trust to write you this little missive, which I have already learned by heart: Lady: I cannot salute you at the start of this letter, because there is no salvation in me. But if your pity will deign to meet me in the place that is most convenient for you, I will tell you what I dare not confide to writing or a messenger. Therefore I beg you—by your divine beauties which Nature, with God's consent, has borrowed from the angels to bestow on you—to be allowed to speak with you. For I have things to tell you which will make you happy, and even more so, the sooner I shall obtain the audience which I beg for on my knees. I await an answer which savors of that grace that radiates from your lovely aspect. And should you refuse to grant it to me, as you refused the pearls [ 180 ]

I sent you not as a gift but as a sign of good will, etc., I shall escape from my woes by the sword, the rope, or poison. And I kiss your illustrious ladyship's hand. And the address and signature must be in the same handwriting as the letter, which the person who has written it for you will be able to do. P1PPA What should I do with it after it's written ? NANNAlkjhFold it neatly and slip it in a glove, which you should negligently drop somewhere. The man who has jealousy in his feet will then learn to have it in his lungs. As soon as the feckless man picks up the glove, he will feel the letter inside of it. When he does, he will snitch it; then, hiding from everyone, he will retire into a corner all by himself. Scarcely will he begin to read than he will start frowning angrily and when he gets to that bit about the rejected pearls, he will hiss like an asp. His boldness will drop to his heels, and his soul will bang against his teeth; for I believe the Devil enters the body of a lover who suddenly encounters a rival; nor can one fully describe the frenzy that fills a man who, while thinking that he was without a companion at the meat block, sees someone appear who puts the entire piece of flesh in danger. After having read the silly note again and again, he will slip it back where he found it, namely, in the glove. All this time you should be spying on him through a chink or keyhole; and at the proper moment, when you see he's burning with fury, start screaming at your maid: "Where's my glove, you idiot? Where is it, you muddlehead?" Then the lovelorn fellow will heave into sight, and you should shriek even louder: "You silly bitch, you'll be the cause of some scandal, and maybe even of my ruin. If that letter falls into his hands, I can never convince him that I wanted to show it to him and tell him about this man, who writes me such wonders. God knows that neither pearls nor ducats have the power to make me another man's mistress!" When he hears this, the poor dupe will go off the boil and stand there thinking for a while, and finally he will call you and say: "Here it is! And stop yelling! I have utter faith in you. I have read it all and you shan't lack for pearls, and I beseech you not to tell me the name of the man who makes you such magnificent offers, because perhaps, perhaps . . . " Here he will fall silent,

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and you should say: "I have never wanted to tell you about the torments I have been subjected to due to his messages, and also . . . But let's forget all that. I am yours and want to be yours; and when I am dead, I shall still be solely and completely yours." PIPPA Now tell me what all this plotting will accomplish. NANNAlkjhThat the soul of this letter discoverer will no longer have peace. In fact every man he sees on your street he will imagine to be either the man who sent it or his pimp; and then, in order not to give you a reason for accepting his gifts, he will come across handsomely. Now let's go on to these men from Mantua—and I don't mean Ferrara—who, having just checked in at a hotel, set off to make love as if the galloons and trimmings which devastate their capes and doublets gave them the privilege of getting it gratis, as they say at the Vatican palace. Now, Pippa, if these desperate fly-by-nights ever get tangled in your branches, question them shrewdly to find out when they intend to leave town. You can calculate the time by the rings, medallions, necklaces, small clothes, and other cheap ornaments you can see on them, for there's small hope of any hard cash from them, and since there's little chance of their ever coming back, you needn't worry whether they praise or curse you. PIPPA That's what I'll do. But how do you know about their money ? NANNAlkjhI know that they never bring enough with them to get back home. And if you ever get mixed up with them, strip them of all those baubles; for if you don't you will be left with your hands full of courtiers' perfumed chitchat. PIPPA If they grab my ass with that, I'M fling it right back at them. NANNAlkjhAnd if you ever happen to sleep with one of them, take a sharp look at his linen, whether it be a shirt or a nightcap; and the next morning before he gets up summon a Jew with his thousand bits of rubbish. After you've compared the Jew's goods to the Mantuan's have them carried away or throw them on the floor; and flying into a rage with yourself and the cuckoo, grumble and grouse so much that he himself will offer them to you. If he doesn't, inveigle him back into bed and plunder him by force or by love. [ 182 ]

PIPPA When you were young did you do all these things that you now want me to? NANNAlkjhMy day was different, and I did what I knew how to do, as you will learn if you read my life written by that scoundrel, may the Lord take him. . . . What I mean to say is that if he who wrote it gets people angry, he did not do me more harm than those beastly lovers of yours will if you can't manage to keep them happy. You may say: "I won't have any dealings with such people," but you won't be able to avoid it. PIPPA And why not? NANNAlkjhBecause, since you must act wisely, such types will also come buzzing around you. So let them rant whenever they become enraged, and shut your ears to their cries of "whore, slut, pig," which they will spit out at you in one breath; and although they cut the map of the world in two with their curses and drown you in their spittle, which they splatter over the face of anyone near them, they won't go any further. And in less time than it takes to say two Credos, they will be good and calm again and beg your pardon, load you with gifts, and try to push their way into your heart again. And I used to like to have dealings with these men because the trifle that makes them angry can also pacify them. Their anger is like a cloudy day in July, when it thunders and lightnings but after about twenty-five drops have fallen, here comes the sun again. So your sufferings will make you rich. PIPPA We shall suffer, but what will come of it? NANNAlkjhWhat will come of it? They'll all pursue you until death. Now here you are with a sharper, a swindler, an old fox, who weighs every move you make; he disputes every word you utter, prods his companion with his foot, twists his mug, and winks tys tiny eye as if he meant to say: "She's trying to fool me, eh?" And you must stand firm, never get upset, in fact always play the ninny and cretin; don't question him and don't argue with him. If he talks to you, talk to him; if he kisses you, kiss him back; and if he gives you something, take it, and behave so artfully that he can never catch you at your gluttony. Act in such a manner that he will begin to tell himself that you are better for him than his bread; but don't let him scythe your

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garden unless he pays for the ground he wants to sow with his seed; and when he resorts to all his clever stunts to befuddle you, muster all your slyness and craft to force him to admit that you cannot be deceived. Then the great fault-finder will have to entrust you with his faithless faith; and since an irresistible force has met an immovable object, he will be yours and you will not be his except when you want to be. PIPPA I'm amazed, Mama, that you don't start a school and teach women all these lovely tricks. NANNAlkjhI have talents which would do honor to an empress; I am not haughty, though I was in the past, may God forgive me. But let's not waste time. Learn how to become irked and angry and then to make peace with your beaux, as I am teaching you; and don't think that this book, which I want you to have at the tip of your tripping tongue, is too long, because whoredom has such a genius for invention that even without a teacher you will learn much more in eight days than you would dream. Now don't you think that you'll surpass all the others, with Nanna for your guide? PIPPA I hope that's the way it is. NANNAlkjhIt will be; don't worry about that. Be irked gracefully, Pippa, and do it in such a way that everyone will say you're right. If your lover promises you the moon and stars, wait patiently for a day or two for him to keep his promise, without breathing a word; but when the third day is half gone, prod him skillfully. He'll reply: "Don't you doubt me, you'll see; so not another word." Look very happy and start talking about the Turk who is bound to come, the Pope who never croaks, the Emperor, who performs miracles, Orlando Furioso, and "The Cost of Venetian Courtesans," the last of which I should have mentioned first. Then let your chin drop on your breast, suddenly fall silent, and start brooding a while; then, standing up, whisper in a faint voice: "I would never have believed it!" Then I can just see that tight-fisted bastard ask you: "What's bothering you now?" and you say to him: "Where were you yesterday evening?" and without waiting for his reply, rush to your room and lock yourself in. And if he starts banging on the door, let him bang; if he howls, let him howl. I, for my part, will always give him the blame and, swearing, will declare that you were told that he has

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come to you to work off the hots he has for some other woman. And I am sure he'll rush down the stairs, cursing, swearing, and denying the accusation; and when he wants to come back soon, some time later, or the next day, tell him you're busy or you have company. PIPPA Yes, yes, we'll make peace when he doubles his gift. NANNAlkjhNow I am certain that you will confront life with a different face from mine, but listen carefully: make use of a sort of annoyance that comes from inside you, that is, get mad at yourself just when the conversation is sparkling, and slump down with your cheek propped in your palm. PIPPA But why do this? NANNAlkjhSo this man, who cannot live without you, comes over to you and says: "Why all these sudden whims? Do you feel sick? Do you lack anything? Speak up"; and he will speak to you formally, so as to placate you. And you should answer: "Please, leave me alone, I beg you; go, get out of here, I say, because you're trying to start a fight"; and always address him informally to show that you don't think much of him. And you must behave like this, for he will try to gain your sympathy and make you laugh. Make sure that not a single smile escapes from your lips or eyes until he gives you something; and when he gives it to you, be nice to him. Don't even infants get terribly angry and calm down when one gives them a sweet? PIPPA These are all fairy tales. What I should like you to tell me is how I can make peace after J have betrayed him, or he has betrayed me. NANNAlkjhI shall tell you. If it happens that the infidelity comes from your side, as is only too likely, bow your shoulders, and speak honestly, saying to everyone: "I acted like a foolish, flighty girl. The devil blinded me. I do not deserve forgiveness, and if God spares me this time, never, never again will I break His commandments." Then, opening the bung-hole of your tear-cask, cry more than if you saw me lying cold at your feet—may God preserve me from such a fate and bring misfortune on whoever wishes it for me. PIPPA Amen. NANNAlkjhThe news of your fussing and weeping will be brought to him at the gallop, because such a man will always keep his spies on

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your tail. And the person who tells him about it, while adding a few embellishments of his own, will make him change his mind; and although he swore that he would rather eat his hands from hunger than speak to you, or let himself be led to the slaughterhouse by his enemies, and all the other tall tales which drop through the teeth of those who let themselves be carried away by rage, nothing will come of it. These oaths won't send him to hell, for the good Lord God doesn't notice lovers' lies: they cannot make a clear statement about anything while suffering under the hammer of pounding passion. But when his obstinacy lasts as though it were planted in him when he was in diapers, write him a bible; then go and visit him, and make a show of trying to break down the door. If he won't open it, start splattering it with loud oaths and curses, and if this doesn't work, pretend you want to hang yourself. Be careful, though, that your play-acting doesn't become a reality, and that you don't have the same mishap as some woman in Modena. PIPPA Oh, if I ever hang myself, in play or earnest, then they really should hang me! NANNAlkjhHa ha ha! Now here's a good way of untying the knot. Search all through your house, in the chests and every hole and corner, make a package of his shirts, his stockings, and all that you can find of his, even a pair of worn-out slippers, old gloves, a nightcap, every sort of junk, and if you have a bracelet or a ring he has given you, send them all back to him. PIPPA I won't do it. NANNAlkjhDo as I tell you, for seeing the gifts he has given to his mistress returned is like holy oil to a man who is suffering the last agonies of love. That tells him how much regard he and his property are held in. Then he succumbs to such great anguish of spirit that throwing stones is the least madness he commits; and I am certain that he will gather up the stuff without further delay and send it back to you. PIPPA But say he is a skinflint? NANNAlkjhSkinflints don't give anything away or leave anything valuable behind. So run the risk of doing what I advise, and if you don't end up making the peace of a prick in a cunt, you can call me a ninny, like those women who just lie down and open their legs; and [ 186 ]

when they make a fuss over their men, they think that they have done their job, selling their flesh by the pound and to those who pay the most. And they are just flesh, not the mistresses of enchantment. The poor sluts, who do not know their ends, which come at the very beginning and the middle, and lead straight to the poorhouse and under bridges where, Frenchified with disease, ruined and forlorn, they would make anyone who can bear to look at them retch with disgust. I tell you, daughter, that the treasure which the Spaniards have found by venturing into the New World would not pay a whore, no matter how ugly and frowsy she might be. So whoever thinks carefully about their lives would sin damnably if he didn't admit it. And to prove that I am talking with the very lips of truth, here is a whore obligated to this man or that. She never has an hour of rest, neither when she goes out nor stays in, neither at table nor in bed. For when she is sleepy, she cannot sleep; she must stay awake to caress some scurfy man, a huge, ugly buffalo, who has a mouth that smells like turds, and will bang away at all of her. And if she balks or refuses, then reproaches are the order of the day: "You don't deserve me, you're not worthy of me; if I were this rascal or that scoundrel, then you'd stay awake." If she is at table, every fly looks like a silkworm to him; and if she gives the tiniest morsel to someone else, he grumbles and fumes with rage, gnawing at his bread and his paltry jealousy. If she goes, then he's in a fury, saying to himself: "There's a plot afoot." So he stops talking to her and stalks through the piazzas proclaiming the betrayal which he thinks she has done him. He never finds peace, for he is always hating one man or another. If she stays and is upset by something or other, which often causes a person to be melancholy, without, however, being a real melancholic, though with the result that she cannot greet him with the usual gay face, his suspicions rise up again. "I saw it clearly. I smelt the stink. I know where it hurts you; I know quite well. You won't lack for men, and I won't go without women who take my money. There are whores aplenty hereabouts." All this would be but soothing syrup and gilt pills were it not for that degrading contempt we are held in, the stink of which descends to the very bottom of the bottomless pit as it ascends to heaven. We are prodded and pushed and manhandled by all avenues and in all ways, day and night, and [ 187 ]

any whore who does not consent to all the filth they can think of would die of hunger. One man wants boiled meat, the other wants roast; and they have discovered the "aperture behind," "the legs on the shoulders," "the Gianetta style," "the crane," "the tortoise," "the church on the belfry," "the stirrup," "the grazing sheep," and other postures more farfetched and extravagant than a play-actor's prancings, so finally I would cry: "Oh world, may God be with you!" though I am ashamed to say it. In short nowadays they make an anatomy of any lady whatsoever; so learn how to live, Pippa, and learn how to manage, or else I'll see you in hell. PIPPA By my faith, yes, it needs something more to be a whore than lifting up your petticoat and crying: "Go ahead and screw, I'm ready," as you said before; and it is not enough to be good solid flesh. Yes, you are a soothsayer. NANNAlkjhWhen a man spends ten ducats to satisfy all his lusts with a young girl, he might as well have been crucified in the forest of Baccano; and if afterward he appears with a bandage, the people are astonished and go gossiping and slandering everywhere, telling how that miserable bitch ruined such a nice young boy. But when they do something really depraved, abjuring their baptism and faith, they're praised—may their seed be stomped out! But let me finish telling you what I promised to tell you, and then I'll spend all of tomorrow reading you the calendar of thievish men; and I will make you weep as I tell you the cruelties and betrayals that the Turks, Moors, and Jews commit against poor females—and no poison, no dagger, no fire or flame can revenge them. As for me, I have two pair of them on my conscience, and I have and have not confessed them. PIPPA Don't get angry. NANNAlkjhI can't help getting angry at lechers. You shall hear how they take back what they have given us, and how good they are at slandering us and making us undergo the torment of the thirty-one. Now I don't want this to be the last piece of advice I give you about the prattle, modes and manners which you must adopt at parties, for these are the key to the game. PIPPA Here I need you. NANNAlkjhAnd here you have me. Well, to entertain with that [ 188 ]

pleasant gabble which never tires or displeases is the lemon one squeezes over tripes frying in the pan, and the pepper one sprinkles on top; and it is a pleasant pastime whenever you are in a company composed of different generations to chat away without becoming boring. A couple of salty jests, a few shrewd retorts flung back at whoever tries to mock you are also good and useful; and since people's habits are more varied than one can imagine, study, observe, anticipate, watch closely, put your mind to it, analyze, and sift everyone's brains. Here is a Spaniard, all decked out like a doll, perfumed, as filthy as the asshole of a chamberpot that breaks as soon as you touch it; his sword at his side, all airs, while his footman behind him cries: "By the Empress' life," and with all his other fripperies around him. And you say to him: "I do not deserve that so great a knight should pay me such honors. Your Highness must put his cap back on; I will not listen until he covers himself." And if the "Your Highness'es" which he will shower on your head and the kisses with which he will slobber your hands had the magic power of enriching you, your income from all these titles, bows, and ceremonies would be greater than Agostino Chigi's.* PIPPA I can see quite well that there's nothing to be gained from them. NANNAlkjhAll that you have to do is return smoke for their wind and breath for those sighs which they are so gutfully artful at producing. Bow to their bows, kiss not just their hands but also their gloves, and if you don't want them to pay you with story of the victory of Milan, dispatch them as soon as possible. PIPPA I shall do it. NANNAlkjhWatch out: a Frenchman! Open your door promptly, in a flash; and while he, quite happy, embraces and kisses you in a slapdash fashion, make him buy the wine. With men of that nation, forsake the usual ways of whores who would not give you a glass of water even if they saw you dying. With two slices of bread begin together to set up a house for love; and without standing too much on ceremony, agree to going to bed with him, sending the others away. Then it will seem that you are going to stage a carnival, what with * A great Roman banker, Agostino Chigi, who died in 1520, owned the Farnesina palace and at one time was Aretino's patron. Trans.

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all the food that will pour into your kitchen. And what else? Well, he will escape from your claws in his nightshirt, because these Frenchmen love the bottle and are better suited to spend than to earn, and more easily forget about themselves than they remember an insult they've received. They don't care at all whether you rob them or you don't. PIPPA French gentlemen, may you all be blessed! NANNAlkjhAnd remember that they give coins and the Spaniards give only cups. Germans, though, are cut from a different mold, and it is worth one's while to have designs on them. I speak of the merchants, who I won't say are as fond of lovemaking as they are of wine, for I have known some very sober fellows. They will give you heaps of ducats if you know how to play up to them, without shouting all over that they are your lovers, or how they do this to you or tell you that. Strip them in secret, for they will let themselves be stripped. PIPPA A good thing to remember. NANNAlkjhTheir nature is hard, sour, and bestial; and when they get something into their heads, God alone can drive it out. So anoint them with the oily sweetness of what you've learned about them. PIPPA What else will I have to do? NANNAlkjhI would like to prepare you to confront a certain undertaking, but I don't dare. PIPPA For what? NANNAlkjhFor nothing. PIPPA Tell me about it, because I would love to know. NANNAlkjhI don't want to, for it would be my shame and sin. PIPPA Then why have you aroused my curiosity? NANNAlkjhWell, I'll tell you, and let the devil make the most of it. If you can get mixed up with the Jews, get mixed up with them, but adroitly. Hit on some excuse, such as wanting to buy tapestries, bedhangings, and suchlike gewgaws, and you will see that there will be some man who will shove in that bank you have in front what's left over from all their usuries and swindlings, adding to that even some small change. And if they stink like dogs—why, let them stink. PIPPA I thought you were going to tell me something important. [ 190 ]

NANNAlkjhHow should I put it? The fetid smell which corrodes them made me hesitate. But you know of the wondrous earnings of those who go to sea, run the dangers of being made galley slaves, of Catalans, drowning, falling into the hands of the Turks of Barbarossa, wrecking their ship, eating dry, wormy bread, drinking watered vinegar, and other discomforts of which I have heard tell; and if he who sets out to sea does not mind the wind, the rain, or any of the hardships, why should a courtesan disdain the stench of Jews? PIPPA You make some lovely similes. But if I get mixed up with them, what will my lovers say? NANNAlkjhWhat can they say, if they don't know? PIPPA But why won't they? NANNAlkjhIf you don't tell them, the Jew will keep as quiet as a thief, for fear of getting his bones broken. PIPPA Yes, that's the way to do. it. NANNAlkjhNow I see you in your room with a Florentine, gabbing away with his glib prattle. Give him a warm welcome, for Florentines away from Florence are like people who have bladders full to bursting and don't dare piss out of respect for the place they are in; but once they get away from there they inundate a long, long tract with the urine that pours from their huge pikes. They are, I tell you, just as open-handed elsewhere as they are tight-fisted at home. Besides this, they are talented, courteous, polished, witty, and saucy; and though they feed you on nothing but their pretty talk, couldn't' that fully satisfy you? PIPPA Not me. NANNAlkjhIt's just my way of talking. Suffice it to say that they spend as much as possible, give Papal banquets and feasts with a different grace from others; and besides, their language pleases everyone. PIPPA Now let's go on to the Venetians. NANNAlkjhI will not tell you about them, because if I said all the good things that should be said I would get the answer: "Love has deceived you"; but surely it does not deceive me at all, for they are gods and the lords of all—the most handsome youths, grown men, and old men in this world. Take them out of their prudent [ 191 ]

clothes, and in comparison all the other men will look like wax dolls. Although they are proud—and they have good reason to be—they are goodness itself copied straight from nature. And although they live by trade, when it comes to us they behave in a kingly manner, and the woman who holds them by the prick can consider herself lucky. Everything else is a joke and sham alongside those coffers of theirs, which are packed full of ducats; and whether it thunders or pours, you can be sure they won't give you a pittance. PIPPA May God preserve them.

NANNAlkjhSo He does. PIPPA But now that I think of it, explain to me why the lady who came back from there the other day couldn't abide them; and, according to what my godmother said, she returned with twenty pairs of strong boxes loaded with rocks. NANNAlkjhI'll tell you . . . the Venetians have their own peculiar tastes. They want asses, tits, and soft, solid flesh, around fifteen or sixteen, even as old as twenty, and no romances in the Petrarchian manner. And, my daughter, with them you can put aside all your courtesan's tricks and gratify them with your own person, if you want them to fling you bright burning gold and not conversational mist. As for myself, if I were a man, I would like to bed down with a woman who has a honied instead of a learned tongue; and I would be happier to hold in my arms an experienced slut than Messer Dante himself. And I believe that a different melody entirely is made by a skilled hand which picks lightly at the strings of the lute at the curve of the belly, touching it not too heavily nor too skimmingly. And the sound of this hand when it pats smartly at the sanctum of the buttocks seems to me of a different sweetness from the music made by the fife players in the castle, when the cardinals visit it in those cowls that make them look like owls in a hole. I feel that I can see the hand, I declare, stop its strumming and slide down again to the bodice, which, as it holds back and releases the gasps, rises and sinks as a picture would if it were animated by a spirit. PIPPA Oh, you are a wonderful painter with words; and as I listened to you, I got all excited. I had the feeling that the hand you described touched my nipples and was just about to feel . . . I won't say what.

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NANNAlkjhI saw the passion on your face, which changed completely, then blushed red while I was showing you what one does not see. Now to leap from Florence to Siena, I must tell you that Sienese madmen are pleasant madmen, though they have become vicious over the years, or so the gossip goes. Of all the men I have had dealings with, they seem to me unequaled. They have somewhat the same courtesy and talents as the Florentines, but they are not as shrewd or stingy. And the woman who knows how to dupe them can flay them right down to the quick; they are merry blockheads more than anything else and offer an honorable and pleasant intercourse. PIPPA Then they are just the thing for me. NANNAlkjhYes, of course. But now on to Naples. PIPPA Don't say another word; just thinking of them gives me usthma. NANNAlkjhPay heed, my dear lady, for your life's death! Neapolitans are made to drive away sleep, or to feast on at least one day of the month, when you have your period in mind or are alone or in the company of someone who doesn't count. I must tell you that their bragging goes sky-high. If you're discussing horses, they have the best ones from Spain; mention clothes, they have two or three wardrobes bursting with them; talk about money, they coin it; and when it comes to women, all the beauties of the realm are dying to catch them. And if you drop a handkerchief or a glove, they pick it up with the prettiest parables that were ever heard at the Court of Capua. Yes, my dear. PIPPA What fun! NANNAlkjhI used to torment a traitor called Giovanni Agnese by trying to imitate his speech, because when it came to deeds only the hangman could imitate him, since he was the scum of the lechers' bawdiness, and a Genovese used to split his sides laughing at it. I turned to this fellow once and said: "My Genoa is your pride. You know how to buy beef without letting them slip over a single bone on you, so that we get hardly any profit from you." And so it is, for they can hone the fine to superfineness, sharpen the sharp, and are excessively adept husbanders. They cut the slice as thin as they want it, and wouldn't give you a mite more. They are glorious in all {he rest—indeed I couldn't tell you how much—lovers of Neapolitan [ 193 ]

graces in the Spanish style, reverent, capable of making the little they give you taste like sugar, and they are never without a lot. As for these fellows, give them their money's worth, measuring out your wares as they measure out theirs. And don't be revolted by their way of speaking from their throats, snuffing through their noses, an4 sobbing, but take them as they come. PIPPA The Bergamese are handsomer than the way they speak. NANNAlkjhThey can also be sweet and darling, I assure you. But let us get to our Romans; watch out for their brawling tongues! Daughter, if you like to eat bread and mozzarella, and the sharp points of swords and pikes for salad, seasoned by the bullying attacks which their grandfathers launched against the cops, hang out with them. In short, on the day of the sack he shat on them, speaking with due respect, and that's why Pope Clement hasn't looked at them since. PIPPA Don't forget Bologna. If only for the love of the count and the knight who are already part of our house. NANNAlkjhMe, forget the Bolognese? What would the rooms of whores be like without the looming shadow of their lanky, overgrown shafts? As the song says: "Born here only to make a crowd and a shadow." I speak of love, not war, adds Fra Mariano, as a fine cock of twenty, his plaything, once told me. He says he has never seen more plump-faced or better-dressed fools. So you, Pippa, make a fuss over them as sturdy fillers and pillars of the court you will hold; and take pleasure in their frivolous, cloying gabble. And all this is not without its useful side, and it would be even more useful if they didn't enjoy the kid more than the she-goat. As for the remainder of the Lombards, those fat snails and huge butterflies, handle them whorishly, grabbing what you can, and the sooner, the better. Spout into each one's mustache the title of knight or count, for bowing and scraping are the very apples of their eyes. With these types a little swindle won't spoil the soup, and it is quite respectable to con them and then boast about it. For they also cheat poor courtesans, and then go bragging about it in all the taverns where they stay. And so that you will know how to swindle without seeming to, I shall tell you about two swindles I didn't mention to that blabbermouth [ 194 ]

Antonia. In fact I kept them locked away in my breast, for circumstances that might arise. PIPPA Oh, I'm anxious to hear them. NANNAlkjhThe first swindle is the lowest of the low, while the second is the highest of the high. Now to come to the cream of the jest, I must tell you that I had a little angel who died on me at thirteen, nice and plump and chubby) very pretty, astute, crafty, as bad as they come, a glib phony, God knows! She was a little fox and such a shrewd piece that the best thing was to run away from her. I taught her how she should work to get me money, in fact to snitch change for my household expenses. And what did she do? Why, as soon as she had learned to gain the good graces of whoever came to my house, whether a native or from out of town, by playing up to this man or that, though none of them could do no more than tease her for a moment, I would set a soup plate in her hand that was broken into three parts. And when some gentleman knocked at the door, she would pull on the cord and go to the head of the stairs, her hair all awry, wailing in a low voice: "Alas, I am dead and done for. Alas-, I am finished!" And then she behaved as though she meant to run away, while my other old maid held her firmly by the hem of her skirt and cried: "Don't, don't do it. The mistress won't hurt you." The thoughtless man, seeing her so overwrought and disheveled, would seize her arm and say: "What's wrong? What are you crying about? Why are you groaning?" And she'd reply: "Wretched me! I have broken this plate that costs a ducat. Let me go—she'll kill me if she catches me." And she would say these lies with such conviction of manner, such heartfelt sighs, and so clever a simulation of a swoon that it would have moved the very gallows of the Ruler of the Lopped-Off Hand to compassion, much less the knight who had come to gossip with me. All the while I was standing behind a spy-hole in my room, my apron stuffed in my mouth so he wouldn't hear me laugh, while he, tighter than a clenched fist, slipped a scudo coin into her hand, putting it on the alms side of the ledger. And I thought I would burst when my old maid snatched the coin from her and ran down the stairs so that he would think she had gone to buy another plate. [ 195 ]

PIPPA What a thief! NANNAlkjhThen I walked into the room, and he said: "I come to pay my deepest respects to your ladyship," and, taking my hand, slobbered over it with his sticky kisses. Then he sat down to gossip with me, staying for about three-quarters of an hour, and the little angel came to me bearing the sister of the broken soup plate and said: "I'm going to put it in your room." And I said: "What's ailing you? Why are you looking so grim?" And the lewd little cheat winked at him so he wouldn't tell me the story. PIPPA In fine, to be a courtesan demands more knowledge than to be a doctor. NANNAlkjhAnd so warming up to each man who came to see me, displaying in her hand now a glass, now a cup, and now a plate, she would gather sometimes two, four, or even five julios from this purse or that, and in this way the small daily expenses of the house were paid for by little swindles. But now to the big swindle. PIPPA 1 am drinking it down already, even before you start. NANNA ' An official, a man whose duties netted him an income of at least two thousand ducats, had fallen so bestially in love with me that it purged him of all his sins. The fellow spent money according to the phases of the moon; and you had to consult an astrologer, I can tell you, if you wanted to part him from his cash, especially when he wasn't in the mood to part with it. But most important of all was the fact that caprice and whim were born on the day he entered the world, and at the least little word that rubbed him the wrong way he flew into a rage, reached for his dagger, and thrust its point right into your face. And this was only one of the minor fears he aroused, so whores fled from him as peasants run away from rain. But I, who had never given fear its head, stayed with him for the full course, and when he played his asinine tricks on me, I defended myself prudently, always thinking that I would play one trick on him that would discharge his entire debt. Well, I thought so long that I finally found it. And what did I do? I confided in a painter—Maestro Andrea, I might as well say it—and I gave him a taste of a few fine slices of my flesh with the understanding that he would carry out my orders, hiding himself under my bed with his colors and brush and painting a gash on my face when the time came. [ 196 ]

I also let Maestro Mercurio of blessed memory in on the secret. I know that you knew him. PIPPA I certainly did. NANNAlkjhI told him that I would send for him on such-and-such a night and that he should come with lint and eggs, and in order to be at my beck and call he didn't leave his house on the day of the festival I wanted to celebrate. Now, here we are: Maestro Andrea was under my bed and Maestro Mercurio was in my house and I was at the table with the official; and when we'd nearly finished eating, I brought up His Reverend's valet, whom he couldn't bear to hear even mentioned, and did it purposely so he would go off the deep end. Bread already leavened doesn't require too much yeast, and so he started yelling at me: "Slut, bottomless cunt, fickle wench," and, as I was about to ram his abuse down his throat with a quick reproof, he hauled off with the flat of his dagger and struck me a stinging blow on the cheek. Now I had in my bag some sort of oily lacquer which Maestro Andrea had given me, and I smeared my hands and streaked my face with it, and letting out the most dreadful shrieks that any woman ever gave in the agonies of childbirth, made him think that the blow had caught me with the point. So, as terrified as a man who has murdered, he ran away, fled to Cardinal Colonna's palace, and hid in the room of a friend of his, a courtier, wailing in a whisper: "Alas, I have lost Nanna, Rome, and all my functions." Meanwhile I shut myself up in my room, alone except for my ol,d maid; and Maestro Andrea, having been plucked from his hiding place, in one stroke painted a gash across my right cheek which, when I looked at myself in the glass, made me shake so much with anguish that I almost collapsed. Then Maestro Mercurio, summoned by my little diddler of the broken soup plate, walked right in. "Don't worry/' he cried. "No harm's been done." Then giving the colors time to dry, he took the lint and steeped it in clear rose oil and bandaged the wound neatly and adeptly. After this he strode into the salon, jammed with all my lovers who had come running, and said in a loud voice: "She can't live!" The story spread all over Rome, and even the murderer heard the echo of it and began crying like a beaten child. The next morning the doctor came, bearing on a salver a penny's worth of candle, and lifted the dressing so that a great many people, who, [ 197 ]

all the windows being closed, were craning their heads in at the door, started to cry. Someone—I don't know exactly who—unable to look at such a horrible wound, fainted dead away at the sight of it. So the story was public knowledge that my face, if worse came to worse, was ruined forever; and the malefactor began sending me money, medicines, and doctors to avoid falling into the hands of the Bargello's police, not being at all assured of safety because of the Colonnas' support. After eight days passed, I set the rumor going that I had just squeaked through but had a scar, which was bitterer for a courtesan than death itself; and my friend tried to soothe me with wads of dough. He set so many wheels turning in his favor, got help from so many of his friends and patrons, that I finally came to terms, though I never let anyone see me but a certain monsignor with an unsheathed beanpod whom our friend frequented. The long and short of it was he handed over five hundred ducats for the damage he did to me, and fifty more for doctors and medicines, and I forgave him— that is to say, I promised not to bring charges against him with the governor, for all I wanted from him was peace and surety. And that was the money which I spent on this house, save for the garden, which I added later on. PIPPA Mama, you were a valiant man and performed a bold exploit. NANNAlkjhIt hasn't come to the Alleluia yet, nor would I get to the end of it this year if I tried to recount everything. In truth, I haven't squandered the time I have lived; by my faith, I haven't squandered it. Now let's go on. PIPPA That can be seen from the results. NANNAlkjhLet's go on. Since it did not appear to me that the five hundred, with fifty added, had really satisfied the palate of my appetite, I hit on a whorish hornswoggle, very whorish indeed. And what do you think I did? I came up with a Neapolitan, the crook of crooks, who was reputed to have the secret for expunging all signs of a scar left on one's face by some terrible blow. He came to see me and said: "When one hundred scudi are paid down, I shall go to work and you will have no more of a scar on your face than you can see here," and he displayed the open palm of his hand. I began to squirm and twist and sighed a feigned sigh: "Go and tell [198]

this miracle," I said, "to the man who gave me the wound, because I am no longer . . . " I wanted to say "the same," but instead turned my back and began sobbing softly to myself. The mountebank, all decked out in much too decent attire, departed and visited the official, who was floundering in an evil trap, and told him about what he claimed he could accomplish. Now believe it or not, this crucified man, who never could hope to enjoy me again, paid the deposit of a hundred scudi! But why stretch it out? The scar which wasn't there was washed away with holy water, which he sprinkled over my face six times, accompanying this with some words which if they meant anything at all sounded as if he were saying the Mirabilium. So those hundred pleasures, as the Greek says, came straight into my hands. PIPPA They are quite welcome, and I wish them a good year. NANNAlkjhgBut wait. When the rumor got around that I hadn't the slightest mark on my face, everyone who had some sort of scar ran to the charlatan's room, as the synagogues would run to the Messiah if he were to come down in Piazza Giudea; and the scoundrel, after having stuffed his purse with down payments, packed up and beat it. He figured that, since I had been so kind as to give him a few of the ducats I had earned, the others should do likewise. PIPPA Did the official know it, understand it, and believe it? NANNAlkjhHe knew it and didn't know it; he understood it and didn't understand it; he believed it and didn't believe it. PIPPA So that was that. NANNAlkjhBut the venom is in the tail. PIPPAlkjhWhat? There's more? NANNAlkjhThe best part. The-big lout, after having forked over so much that, it was claimed, he had to put his knighthood up for sale, became reconciled with me with, the help of some pimps, and also by means of letters and messages which sung his passion for me. And then coming to see me to fling himself at my feet, wearing his shame around his neck like a placard, he composed on the way some pretty speeches to get in my good graces again, and passed by the shop of the painter, who had painted a picture of the miracle, which, I had said, I was personally going to carry to Loreto. He stared at it and saw himself portrayed with his dagger in hand, scarring poor wretched me; yet this was nothing compared to what he read under-

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neath: "I Signora Nanna, adoring Messer Maco, who thanks to the devil that got into bis glass, was rewarded for my love by receiving from him this wound, which was healed by the Madonna, to whom I dedicate this votive painting." PIPPA Ha! NANNAWhen he read this, he looked as anguished as excom-lkjh municated bishops do when they read the list of their crimes while being trampled underfoot by the demons who club them. And he rushed to my house at his wit's end and, with the promise of a new dress, made me consent to take his name off the picture. PIPPA Ha ha ha! NANNAlkjhThis is how it ended: the bully who paid himself also gave me the money to go on the pilgrimage to which I hadn't vowed myself; but it wasn't enough that I refused to go—he was forced to get me absolved by the Pope himself. PIPPA Is it possible that he was so foolish that, even after visiting you, he didn't see that your face had never been scarred? NANNAlkjhI will tell you, Pippa: I took some object or other, perhaps the blade of a knife, tied it tightly against my cheek, and kept it there all night, taking it away only when he appeared. For a while you would really have thought, seeing the bruise that surrounded the pinched flesh, that it was a healed cut. PIPPA Yes, that's the way. NANNAlkjhNow I'll tell you the story of the crane, and then I'll finish the business I have to finish. PIPPA So tell me. NANNAlkjhI pretended that I would give birth to a baby with a birthmark unless I was able to eat a crane in ribbon vermicelli. Not finding any to buy, my lover was forced to send a man to kill one with a fowling piece, and so I got it. But what did I do with it? I sent it to a pork butcher who knew all my subjects, or "vassals," as Gian-Maria the Jew calls the people from the Verruchhio and Scorticata quarters. Oh, I forgot: I made the man who gave me the crane swear not to say anything, and when he asked me why that mattered to me, I told him that I didn't want to be considered a glutton. PIPPA You did what you should have. Now to the pork butcher.

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NANNAlkjhI told him not to sell it to anyone, save someone who bought it for me, and having already been of service to me in similar deals in the past, he understood me in a flash. He had barely hung the crane up in his store when one of my beaux who knew of my pregnant woman's yearnings approached him and asked: "How much do you want for it?" "It's not for sale," the cagey man answered, so he would want it even more, in fact so he could charge him even more. And the man begged and pleaded with him, saying: "I don't care what it costs." In the end he had to fork over a ducat, sent his valet to my house with it, and tried to get me to believe that a cardinal had presented it to him. I made a fuss over him, and as soon as he left, sent it back to be resold. What else? In short the crane was bought by all of my lovers, each time for a ducat, and then returned to my house. Now, Pippa, do you think that it's just a lark knowing how to handle things properly as a whore? PIPPA I'm amazed! NANNA;lkjhLet us now come to the road you should take to gathe clients. PIPPA Yes, that's more important than all the rest. NANNAlkjhLet us suppose that five or six new cocks come to see you, and they will be in the company of -some hanger-on of yours. Give them a princely welcome, sit down with them, start a pleasant chat, and do it as nicely as you can. And while you are chatting and listening, take a good look at their clothes, and figure out from their manners whatever may be figured out from them. Then taking your acquaintance gracefully aside, question him as to the financial condition of each man; then go back to the conversation, fix your eyes on the richest man, and making a wanton gesture look at him as if you were so in love with him that you are dying, and never lift your eyes from his without releasing a great sigh. And if you've just found out his name, when he goes say to him: "I kiss Your Lordship So-and-So's hand," while saying to the others: "I recommend myself to you." Then quickly go to the shutter when they leave the house and do not let yourself be seen except if he turns to court you; and just as you're about to lose sight of him, lean with your whole body out of the window and while biting your finger make a threatening gesture at him, to show that he has flustered your heart [ 201 ]

with his divine presence. You will see that he will return to your house all by himself and do it with more assurance than when he came in company. Then it's up to you, Pippa. PIPPA It does my heart good to hear you talk. NANNAlkjhI want to tell you one thing, now that I have it in mind. Never laugh while whispering to someone sitting next to you, whether at table, at the fireplace, or anywhere iclse; it is one of the worst sins that a woman, respectable or whorish, can commit. You never stumble into this fault but immediately each man suspects that you're mocking him, and crazy rows are always the consequence. Next in importance: never order your servants around when others are present, acting the queen; on the contrary, what you can do by yourself, do it. They know very well that you have servants and that, having them, you can order them around; but by never ordering them haughtily, you will win people's good will and whoever sees you will say: "Oh what a kind creature, with what grace she stoops to doing everything!" But if they hear you shout and rave and threaten them, scolding them because they didn't run to pick up a toothpick that dropped from your fingers, or to brush off one of your slippers, they'll think, signing to each other to take notice of your arrogance: Woe to anyone who has her for a mistress. PIPPA Blessed, wise advice. NANNAlkjhBut how can I advise you so that you'll know how to behave at a banquet where there will be a herd of whores, whose nature is always envious, prickly, nastily gossiping, and irritable? Ah, you'll know what I meant to you when I'm gone. PIPPA Why do you say that? NANNAlkjhI say it so I won't have to say it. Well, here you are at a feast to which you've been invited, the carnival season being in full swing. There are many, many ladies, who all appear in the salon in masks, and dance, sit about, and talk without taking their visors off. They are right to do this while the mob, which is not going to dine with them, enjoys the music and dancing; but they behave badly afterward, when people have washed their hands, to refuse to eat at the table laid for everyone. One woman goes this way, another that, and you'd have to conjure up rooms by witchcraft to satisfy all these women who want to dine alone with their lovers, and so throw havoc [ 202 ]

into the supper, the celebration, the house, the servants, the stewards, and the cooks; may the good Lord give them an unlucky new year and a worse Easter, and may every day of theirs be a new year and an Easter. PIPPA The troublesome sluts! NANNAHope of my life, I now want to teach you how to tearlkjh out each man's heart with your kindness. PIPPA Are you sure? NANNAlkjhAbsolutely. PIPPA Tell me and take what I owe you. NANNAlkjhIntroduce yourself without having to be urged to, and sit down in the place assigned you as if you were saying: "Here I am, just as my mother made me." And then you will touch the heavens with your finger, just from hearing the praises they will shower on you, which will spread as far as the spits in the kitchen. PIPPA Why do the other women run off to the rooms ? NANNAlkjhBecause they're afraid of comparisons. The woman with wrinkles doesn't want to seem so; the ugly woman can't bear the thought of a pretty woman sitting next to her; another woman has decayed, yellow teeth and so doesn't want to open her mouth beside the woman whose teeth are white as goat cheese; another doesn't have the gown, necklace, sash, or coif worn by this one or that; another thinking herself the very devil and even more so than the other women in certain matters, would be willing to die before letting herself be seen in public. Some women hide out of cowardice, some out of craziness, and some out of downright malice. I must tell you, though, that when they are off alone like this, they say the worst possible things they know or can about each other. "That string of pearls isn't hers," "That skirt belongs to a certain man's wife," "That ruby is Messer Picciuolo's," and "That jewel is really a Jew's." And so they get drunk on backbiting gossip and, with even more reason, wine, but the men dining with you give them tit for tat. One ma^n sajjs: "Signora What's-Her-Name does well to hide her clumsiness." Other men shout: "Signora Such-and-Such, tell me, when did you tak your last dose of lignum vitae for the pox?" Other men laugh uproariously at the monthlies which they have glimpsed in the eyes of this woman or that. Others praise as a very courageous man the

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good Leave-Me-Alone that runs the risk of sleeping beside his goddess, who looks more like a she-devil than the devil's wife herself. In the end they all turn to you and offer you their souls and bodies. PIPPA And I will thank you. NANNAlkjhWhen you have reached the heights I say you will, do yourself honor, for by honoring yourself you honor me. It may happen that you go to the Popolo, the Consolazione, Saint Peter's, Saint Lawrence's, and the other principal churches on the solemn feast days, where there will be gathered all the gallant lords, courtiers, and noblemen in a serried mob at the place from which they can most easily see the beauties, saying their piece to all the women who pass or dipping out some drops of holy water with the tips of their fingers, and now and then they give them a good, stinging pinch on the ass. As you walk past them, do so gracefully. Don't answer them back with whorish arrogance; keep silent or say with true or feigned reverence: "Here I am, your servant," because by saying that you will revenge yourself by your modesty. And so when you return they will all make way for you and bow down to the ground; but if you snap at them sharply, their loud sneers and jeers will accompany you right through the church, and that will be that. PIPPA I'm sure of it. NANNAlkjhWhen you kneel down to pray, do it decently on the predella of the most looked-at altar in the church, holding your prayer book in your hand. PIPPA What should I do with the book when I don't know how to read? NANNAlkjhSo it will look as though you do; and it doesn't matter whether you turn it upside-down, as gypsy women do, so that the men will think they're fairies, whereas they look like ghosts. . . . Let us now get to the qualities of the young louts, in whom you cannot place any hope, nor take any of their promises as a basis for making plans. They are not stable. They whirl around like the brain and the boiling blood; they fall in love and then out of love as fast as they meet new women to love; and even if you give them a taste of it once in a while, make them pay in advance. And you will be sad indeed if you let yourself get entangled with them. Neither with them nor anyone else, remember, because moon-calf love is all very [ 204 ]

well for women who live on an income and don't have to scrape by from day to day. And even if there were no other reason, the fact is that as soon as you are trapped by your passions, you #re done for, because the emotion which is fixed on one man alone must dismiss all those other men you used to caress indiscriminately. So you may hold it for certain that a courtesan who gets the hots for anything but her purse is like a drunken, greedy tavernkeeper who eats and drinks the stuff he should deny his belly in order to sell. PIPPA You know everything, everything, everything. NANNAlkjhI think I hear some captain breaking down your door. (Oh, my God, nowadays they all call themselves "captain," and it seems to me that even muleteers can attain a captaincy.) I say "break down" because they bang at it right boldly so that they will seem to be wild animals, talking all the while in a gibberish made up of certain Spanish phrases mixed with French. Don't give an audience to any of these wag-plumes. Even if you love them, trust them as you would trust a gypsy; for they are worse than coals that burn and blacken. They croak a lot about the pay they are expecting; but whoever expects to be paid by the invasions they want the King to undertake, and the victories they will score for Mother Church, why, tell him to hum a lullaby instead. Anyone who wants cash on the line should praise them as suburban Rolands and get away fast. Otherwise she'll leave with a broken head, which she can also get from nasty brats and nuts. The greatest honor they will pay you will be to spread abroad the faults of your front and your back, boasting about how they made you squirm and writhe so beautifully in bed. PIPPA Cheats! NANNAlkjhShe who becomes.a whore in order to satisfy her lust and not her hunger runs the risk of swimming in the open, dangerous sea. Any woman who wants to leave rags behind, who wants, I say, to throw off her tatters, must be shrewd and clever, and she should not go buzzing away like a mosquito either in her deeds or her words. Now here's a fine comparison hot from the oven; for I make it all up as I go, I improvise and don't drag things out by the hair, I say them right off in a single breath and not in a hundred years, as do certain worn-out style-doctors who teach us how to write books, [ 205 ]

taking a lifetime on their "so-to-speaks," "as-it-weres," and "as-toshits," composing comedies out of speeches more constipated than constipation; and that's why everyone rushes to look at my gossip, printing it right away as if it were the Verbum Caro. PIPPA And what about the comparison? NANNAlkjhA soldier who is valiant only at going through the hens in the peasants' coops and in uncoiling prisoners' cannons is marked down as a poltroon and can barely draw his pay—at least that's what a man from the King's garrison told me. He also said that the soldier who fights and passes all the tests is sought by all the wars and by all the paymasters in this world. And the same goes for the whore who only knows how to get herself serviced and nothing else; she'll never get away from frowsy fans and tacky sarcanet gowns. So remember, my daughter, you fieed either art or luck; and if I had to ask for it aloud, I won't deny that I would choose luck over art. PIPPA Why? NANNAlkjhBecause with luck you don't have to work hard, but art makes you sweat. You've got to rack your brains, foresee the future, and live by your wits, as I believe I've already said. Do you want the proof that in luck there are no troubles? Just look at that poxed, clumsy slut—you know who I mean—and clarify your ideas on the subject. PIPPA But isn't she stinking rich? NANNAlkjhThat's just what I mean: she isn't graceful, lacks talent, and hasn't a single feature that looks good on her; she has no figure, she's fat and clumsy and past thirty, and with all that you'd think she was made of honey, the way all the men run after her. Is it luck, or isn't it? Just ask the valets, the corner boys, the pimps, and don't make me say it; for luck made them signers and monsignors. Why, we see it happen every day. Is it luck, or isn't it? Didn't Messer Troiano use to chip mortars with his chisel and now he owns a fine palace? Is that luck or isn't it? Didn't Sarapica use to strangle mongrel dogs and then became the Pope? Is that luck, eh? Wasn't Accursio a goldsmith's errand boy and then ended up Julius II? Is that luck, eh? And certainly when luck and art are brought together in a single whore, Sursutn Corda! For such a thing is sweeter [ 206 ]

than the "That's it! There!" one shouts at the instant the finger scratching you after you've cried: "A little lower, a trifle higher, more this way, more that," finally finds the pimple that's itching you. Ah, how happy is the woman who unites both—art and luck, luck and art. PIPPA Go back to where you left me. NANNAlkjjhhI left you trying to set you against all friendly comerce with those big-gutted louts and fine-plumed captains. I was telling you to give them a wide berth, just as I now tell you to pursue sober, sedate men, because they will be just as open-handed with their cash as their good manners. PIPPA A few more baioccos and a little less courtesy. NANNAlkjhThat's very true; but sedate men continually give you both, and that's why the good-natured fellow fits our bill. Living with them, a woman has the pleasure of a wet-nurse, who suckles, minds, and raises a baby that doesn't have a rash and so never bawls day or night. But now consider the troublesome men. May heaven have mercy on you! First of all, get rid of your pride, which we women bring from the slit that shit us out; and whenever these boring lugs talk to you nastily, yell at you, scold you, and offend you with their so-called wit, stay on your guard, like a man who wrestles with a bear. And you should know how to move about so that these donkeys can't land their kicks,'and so they always leave some of their pelt in your hands. PIPPA If I don't, they can paint me. NANNAlkjhAfter these wild beasts come the swordsmen, those stay-at-home-and-around-the-bottle bravos who would be afraid to stick it up Castruccio's ass and never stop bragging, offering you the sea in a glass. Oh, you'll be greater than Ancroia if you can get them to live without their coats of mail and their swords, which they wear so uselessly at their sides. PIPPA So I shall. NANNAlkjhBetween these two species come the happy fools who always have a laugh on their lips, and with that merriment that flings them backward so thoughtlessly will go about telling everyone in loud voices what they did with you and what they want to do; and whether it's good news or bad, the more people they see, the louder

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they talk. They do it naturally and to show they're good companions; and they'd just as soon lift your skirts in anyone's presence as spit on the floor. And what you should do is curse them, roughing them up with the same assurance that they rough you up; and you can do it, because they never think about anything and live freely, from day to day. PIPPA Do you think such rascals would suit me? NANNAlkjhYou are like me and have the same tastes. But tell me, didn't I explain to you that bizarre men are like monkeys, who are soothed with just a nut, and how even the sea, which is such a wild beast, once its anger passes makes less noise than a brook? PIPPA 1 think you did. NANNAlkjhYes, Ttalked about that, but I didn't mention the ignoramuses. As for them, who are worse than cowards, donkeys, asses, slobs, blockheads, hypocrites, pedants, crooks, and all the rest of the human race, I don't know how to advise you. They always turn their noses up at the best, and whatever pleasure you give them is wasted and thrown away. The clods will jump you without the slightest warning, and each and every thing they do is proof of their stupidity and results in your harm and shame. PIPPA Why my harm and shame? NANNAlkjhBecause, since they have neither manners nor wit, they sit above the most worthy, speak when they should keep their mouths shut, and keep their mouths shut when they should speak. So they deprive you of the company of decent folk. It is clear indeed that anyone who has seen them paying court to women sees so many pigs sniffing roses in a garden; and so I tell you, break their bones with the cudgel of prudence. PIPPA I'll break their hearts too. But aren't the bizarre men and the fantastic men pretty much the same? NANNAlkjhPrecisely. But the fantastic men are worse than discordant clocks, and you should flee from them more than from raving lunatics. They want it, then they don't want it; now they're mute and now they deafen you with their chatter; and most times they're moonstruck, frothing and fretting, and haven't the foggiest notion why. And Saint Nafissa, who was the incarnation of patience and goodness, couldn't stand their weird quirks; so the very first day you [ 208 ]

meet them make sure to distinguish the broad beans from the beans. PIPPA I shall obey you. NANNAlkjhAnd what say you of the salt-of-wisdom-in-the-mouthsof-babes? What cruelty, what a penance it is to live with these arch wise guys who, in order not to crisp the curve of their lips they have set before the mirror, never speak, or if they do, open their mouths with such care that they quickly reset their lips as they were pursed before, and always interpret your words in a contrary sense! They eat doctorally, spit spherically, and look lowly. They want to go with whores but don't want anyone to know about it. They avoid giving you money in the presence of their servants and still are anxious they should know that they give it to you. PIPPA So what kind of men are these? NANNAlkjhIf anyone comes while they're with you, they hide in the room and, peeking through a crack in the door, die of impatience until you say to the man who has made them run for cover: "Messer is here with me." What's more, they dole out sleep, waking, food, fasts, going, staying, doing that certain thing, not doing it, talking, keeping quiet, laughing, not laughing, and make such a fuss every time they climb on you that a new bride would not consider it a gain. But even this is still bearable; what isn't is that they pester you so that you are forced to account for the money you have and what you are doing with the remainder. And since a wise man, or more accurately, someone who thinks he is wise, is always a bit of a miser, complaining all the time about how hard it is to make money, use their own wisdom against them. Play-acting in everything you do, get them to think that you are the Copranica doctrine personified and could rob Solomon himself of his cap. And I have it from a good source that no follies are more witless than those committed by the wise when they're not in love; so you can just imagine what idiocies come out of their heads when they're dying of love. PIPPA So I know what to do when these owls get caught in my web! NANNAlkjhHave I told you anything about hypocrites ? PIPPA No, my lady. NANNAlkjhHypocrites, who never touch it except with their gloves on, and devoutly observe the Fridays of March and the Ember [ 209 ]

Days, will always come to see you on the sly. And when they ask for the honor of doing it by the rear route, if you cry: "What? You want to do it like that, from behind?" they'll always answer: "We are sinners, like all the others." Pippa, my dear little sister, keep all their doings a deep secret, don't piss out their infamy like a pot that can't hold its oil—it will be for your own good. These lechers, these enemies of the faith, suck breasts, ream buttocks, and trepan every hole and crack just like any other clod. If they come across a woman who knows how to bury in herself the filths they delight in, they go to it without restraint; and when they've put their rod back in their pants, they always clip their words with pursed lips, reciting the miserere, the domine ne in furore, and the eaudi orationem, and set out with solemn steps to go and scratch the feet of the incurables. PIPPA May they be flayed alive! NANNAlkhSome day they will suffer something worse than that, you can be sure; and their mean little souls will be trampled by those stingy, miserable pigs who, even while they're screwing, are on the look-out for profit. To haul any money out of these traitors' pockets you must be as cunning as they were in stowing it away. Oh, what a penance it is to extract a coin from their fists! And do not think that their pear lets itself be plucked, no matter how hard you shake the tree. The most loving mother does not lavish so many caresses on her little son who does not want to fall asleep or eat his pap as you must lavish on a miser. The minute he pulls out a crown, his fingers get stiff, paralyzed, and he peers closely at the least little coin he hands you. Set snares for such traitors, and catch the crows in a trap, like old foxes are caught. And when you want them to come across, don't ask them for an over-all accounting, but drink their blood sip by sip and drop by drop, saying: "I can't have it made, because I lack five lousy ducats." PIPPA What, a dress? NANNAlkjhYes, a dress. And when you say that you'll see him squirm like someone who wants to move his bowels and can't find a place; and as he squirms, he gulps and chews, scratches his head, pulls at his beard, and makes those grim stepmother faces that a gambler makes when, having nothing in his hand, either good or [ 210 ]

bad, he is urged to stake what's left in his purse. And he'll finally hand the money over, grumbling and groaning. As soon as you've got the five ducats, shower him with kisses combined with a thousand blandishments and fondlings, and continue like that for two or three days; but then start to sigh, to fret, and quit looking cheerful when he shows up. If he asks: "What's ailing you?" You should reply: "I have rotten luck, and that's the reason I am both nude and crude, and it's all because I'm too good. Because if I weren't, they'd have to pay me at least four crowns to be seen in the piazza in this sleazy gown." Then you'll see the miserable miser, driven into a corner, come out with: "You never get your fill, and when you do, you toss it in the mud. Here, take it, and stop breaking my head, or I won't give you a cent." And then, after drawing his wallet tight shut again, he'll leave in a hurry to find some way of stealing it back from one man or another. PIPPA Why not ask him right off for all of it? NANNAlkjhSo you won't frighten him with too big a sum. PIPPA I understand. NANNAlkjhNow with generous men what one uses is not asinine but leonine cunning. And whenever you must ask them for anything, ask it with coram-populo; because these boasters get big as a fist with the thumb outthrust when you publicly proclaim them great lords—and anyway it's natural for lords to give, although they don't usually avail themselves of the prerogative. Without asking anything of them, you have but to remark: "I'd love to get a dress made in that style." And they will answer: "Provided we have a party, go right ahead, because I want you to have it made." With men like this, my dear daughter, you must be generous, too. Satisfy every desire they get; whatever their appetites ask of you, never deny them. PIPPA It is right that I do so. NANNAlkjhWatch out with certain men, who wouldn't give you a coriander seed even if you asked for it. Other men wouldn't even give you a penny if you weren't there, continually pricking them with a kitchen spit. There's no rule to follow with courteous men— just let them act according to their nature, which delights in continually loading you with gifts. They think that giving without being asked is not spending money on whores, but instead helps to swell [ 211 ]

their lordly reputation, since lords, as I have said, are supposed to give gifts. So with such men all you have to do is please them, esteem them, and not always be saying: "Give me this, do me that"; but when they give you this and do you that, you must pretend you don't want them to. PIPPA Very well. NANNAlkjhBut with the donkeys (as the Romanesca used to say) you have to hound them with "Give me this, do me that," because these clodhoppers want to be pierced by goads. And if there are others present when you say this, they're charmed, for that makes them look like experienced hands, not tyros. Besides, it seems to them that they have the high and mighty stench of a grand prelate when they're importuned by the lady herself; and though they're closely related to the carrion crow that hides deep in the woods, they'll come out and bang at your door even if they burst. PIPPA They must come out or die. NANNAlkjhBut there's something I mustn't forget: although I use both the familiar and formal modes of address in my speech, make sure that you use only the formal mode with every man, young or old, noble or the opposite, because the familiar has something dry about it and doesn't please people too much. And there's no doubt that good manners are the best go-betweens to help you rise in the world; so never be presumptuous in your ways, and follow the proverb which says: "Do not crack wise at the truth nor joke at suffering." When you are together with the friends or companions of the man you are loving, never let a prickly word slip out of your mouth, and may you never get the desire to tug at someone's hair or beard or give anyone a slap, either light or hard, because men are men, and if you touch their mugs, they twist their snouts and huff and puff as if they were terribly insulted. I have seen some bestial comments, and even blows, flung at an irksome woman who felt so sure of herself that she tweaked the men's ears; and each man said to her: "It's just what you deserve." PIPPA By my faith, she deserved it. NANNAlkjhThere's another thing I want to remind you of: don't go down the whore's highway. Their idea of loyalty is to never be loyal. Be ready to die rather than forsake anyone; only make promises [ 212 ]

you can keep, and no more; and whatever prize customer comes your way, don't bestow the farewell flower with all its weeds on any man who is booked to sleep with you—except if the Frenchman I mentioned happens along. If he does, summon the man who was to come in the evening and say: "I promised you this night, and it is yours, because I am completely yours. But if I had this night to myself, I could earn a nice bit of change. If you will loan it to me, I will give you back a hundred nights for this one. A gentleman from France wants it. If you agree, I will give it to him; and if you don't here I am at Your Highness's orders." When he sees that he is highly regarded if he wisely grants you what he could not sell you, he will give way for your sake, not only doing you that favor but also becoming your slave. But if you ditch him without saying a word, you'll run the risk of losing him; and what's more, since he'll go around complaining about the dirty trick you've played on him, all the men who have taken a fancy to you will cool off. PIPPA You mean it will be like piling evil on evil ? NANNAlkjhYou've said it. Now put'this down in your little book. It will often happen that you are surrounded by all your lovers at the same time; so you must realize that if your caresses are not distributed equally among them, the fellow who receives the least will get mad as mustard. So weigh them out on the scales of discretion; and if by chance your spirit tends more to one than another, pretend, show it by signs and not by gross, unbridled acts. Behave in such a way that no man can leave angry at you or feeling he's the favorite. Every man who spends his cash deserves good treatment; and although the man who gives the most should receive the most in return, do it in a discreet and gracious fashion. The road is there so that one can travel to all the countries in the world, provided one knows how to do it, how to live, and how to behave.PIPPA I shall do it preeminently. NANNA;kjhNow here's the jagged edge. Never delight in break ing up friendships by repeating what you've heard. Flee scandal, and wherever you can bring peace, do so; and should by chance your door be smirched with tar or burnt, laugh at it, for these are the fruits which grow on the tree that passion plants in whorish gardens. No matter how vicious they may act or how nasty the things [ 213 ]

they say, never start any fights by egging on those who take orders from you. If one man does you dirty, keep quiet; and don't run crying to tell it to the man who is dying for you and whose brain is smoking and smoldering. And if some hard-up character comes to your house, don't say anything against the woman with whom he is vexed and later will make peace, when all the blame and trouble will fall on the person that kept the fire crackling. Just the opposite: scold him and tell him: "You're wrong to be angry with her, because she is beautiful, virtuous, respectable, and as graceful as a woman can be." The upshot will be that this guy will soon return to the old trough and will feel obligated to you; and she, who'll have heard about it, will pay you back in the same coin, if one of your lovers happens to take umbrage with you. PIPPA I know that you are as subtle as fine silk. NANNAlkjhMy dear daughter, go out into the world with this as your guide—if I, who was the wickedest and lewdest whore in all of Rome—nay in all of Italy and the world—doing evil, saying worse, assassinating wholesale friends and foes and just everyday well-wishers, have finally become gold and not silver, what will you become if you live as I am teaching you to? PIPPA The queen of queens, not just the lady of ladies. NANNAlkjhSo obey me. PIPPA I shall. NANNAlkjhDo so, and above all by not losing yourself in gambling, because cards and dice become poorhouses for anyone who ventures into them; and for one courtesan who wins a new cape, there are thousands who leave begging. A draught or chessboard can bedeck your table; and when they play only a julio or two, that will cover the cost of the candles, because the little that is won goes to your ladyship. And unless they play condennata or primero, you'll never hear a quarrel, nor will anyone utter an unseemly curse. And when a man who loves to gamble is enamored of you, beg him politely, though loudly enough so all can hear, to play no more; and make it clear that you are doing this to stop him from ruining himself ind not so that he will give you the money. PIPPA I've got it. NANNAlkjhAlso scold him for feeding you too much, pretending [ 214 ]

you do so because you do not enjoy it, and not because you want to eat his money raw. And above all my counsels I put this one: take pleasure in surrounding yourself with worthy persons. Even if they are not your lovers, their presence will attract lovers to you and gain you honor among others. Your attire should be simple and neat; leave embroideries to those who want to throw away their gold. Custom-made clothes cost a kingdom, and if later you want to sell them again, you won't find a single buyer. As for velvet and satin dresses, after they've been marked by the laces sewn over them, they might as well be rags. Be thrifty in this manner because in the long run your dresses can be converted into cash. PIPPA Don't worry, I shall. NANNAlkjhThere still^remains the matter of talents, which, naturally, whores detest as much as a man who approaches them without hands full of money. Pippa, no man would refuse to give you a little instrument. So ask one man for a lute, another for a harpsichord, this man for a viola, the next for a flute, the third for a little organ, and the fourth for a lyre; it's all to the good. You will then get the maestri to come and teach you how to play them, and will try to keep them amused, getting them to play for you for nothing, paying them with hopes and promises and a few pecks at it, but at the gallop. After instruments come paintings and sculpture; and grab all you can —pictures, medallions, portraits, busts, nudes, because you can always find customers, like dresses. PIPPA Isn't it a disgrace to sell the clothes off one's back? NANNAlkjhWhy a disgrace? Is it not more disgraceful to play dice for them, as was done for the clothes of Our Lord ? PIPPA You're telling the truth. NANNAlkjhCertainly gambling has the devil in its heart; so never keep cards or dice in your house, for the man who just looks at them and gets the habit is surely lost. I swear to you by the vigil of Saint Lena of the Oils that they poison whole bands of men, just like plague-ridden clothes infect those who touch them even after they've been locked away for ten years. PIPPA Cards and dice, be gone! NANNAlkjhNow listen, listen to what I tell you about the pride and pomp of festivals. Pippa, never get all entangled in searching for [ 215 ]

bull fights, quintain sports, or running after contests of horsemen trying to pierce the ring with a lance, for the result is always deadly enmities. Games like these are only good for amusing brats and riffraff. If, however, you must see a bull being killed or tilting at a quintain or a ring, go and watch these games from some other person's house. And when you must borrow capes, ribands, or a pure-blooded horse to appear at the carnival masquerades, care for them as if they were your own; and when you send them back, don't do it, as whores generally do, without currying and mending them. Curry them as they were and fold them as they were folded; for if you do otherwise, their owners will have a bestial hatred for you and often, very often they will take it out on the men who made the loan for you. PIPPA You must think I'm a real muddlehead, for anyone who does not behave as you say must really be dim-witted. NANNAlkjhSo they are—dim-wits. Now if I should tell you how you should wear your hair, leaving a little lock that forks down over your forehead, or encircles an eye, so that you can open and shut it using all the tricks of lasciviousness, I would have to gab on till nightfall. The same would be the case if I wanted to teach you how to arrange your tits so that the man who sees them pushing out of the front of your gown stares at them, trying to look down as far as possible. Remember, you should be as grudging about showing them off as other women are open and bountiful, so that it looks as if they wanted to throw them away, making them jump out of their stays and bodices. But now I'm going to wind all this up in one or two breaths, or three at the most. PIPPA I'd love you to keep on talking for a whole year. NANNA;lkjWhat I've forgotten to tell you, and what I myself do not know, the practice of whoring will teach you by itself. Its ticklish points are enclosed in itself, and they come up all of a sudden, unexpected by others and unthought of by you. So you must fill the holes left wide open by my bad memory with your good instincts. But after all, why shouldn't I tell you? PIPPA What? NANNA;lkjPriests and monks must have tried to unravel my brains and make it all slip through the loosened meshes. [ 216 ]

PIPPA Just look at that filth. NANNAlkjhFilth—and ribald filth to boot. PIPPA Since you have taught me how I must live with such men, I want to know now how much they will hurt me when they take my virginity. NANNAlkjhNot at all, or hardly any. PIPPA Will it make me shriek as one does when they lance a boil? NANNAlkjhNot at all. PIPPA Like a man whose broken hand is being set? NANNAlkjhNot a bit. PIPPA Like a man whose tooth is being pulled? NANNAlkjhLess. PIPPA Like cutting-a finger?

NANNA

No.

PIPPA Like someone who cracks his head? NANNAlkjhYou're still not there. PIPPA Like someone who is having a whitlow lanced? NANNAlkjhDo you want me to wedge it in your imagination? PIPPA I do. NANNAlkjhDo you ever recall having scratched a small pimple, as one scratches an itch? PIPPA I do. NANNAlkjhWell, that burning sensation you have after you've scratched resembles the pain you feel when your girlish virginity is pierced. PIPPA Then why this great fear over losing one's virginity? I have even heard that some girls run out of the bed, others yell for help, and still others piss profusely over the chests, the room, and all the things that are there. NANNAlkjhIt's the sort of fear people have when they don't know what to expect. It was common in the old days, when new brides went to their wedding to the sound of trumpets, and a cock was flung out of the window to show the marriage had been made. It is just the same as the regret one feels at not having ha,d a tooth pulled before as soon as the dentist holds in his hand the tooth which

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caused you so much pain. Or the regret at having delayed so long because you credited this talk about "He will hurt me" when he grates his bat in your groping place. And that remark "And I thought pulling a tooth was an important matter" also comes appropriately from the lips of the maiden who lets a man enter her boldly. PIPPA I'm glad to hear this. NANNAlkjhHow you can pass for a virgin a hundred times over, if you want so much to look like one, I shall teach you the day before you enter the lists. The secret rests with rock alum and fir-tree resin boiled together with the aforesaid alum—this is an old trap for fools used by all the bordellos. PIPPA Ail the better. NANNAlkjhNow for the monks, who even now are stifling me with their goatish strench of porridge, gravy, and pork. There are also some fops among them, and these waft the scents of a perfumery shop. PIPPA Don't waste time, because I want you to tell me how to put on paint and take it off. I also want to know whether you think I should or shouldn't use spells, sorceries, and witchcraft. NANNAlkjhDon't mention such idiotic nonsense. Your enchantments will be my fresh and tangy advice and memories. As for painting yourself, I shall tell you how to do it. But the monks are calling me. They are urging me to tell you that nowadays women smell of must and mold; and all this comes from the priests, generals, priors, ministers, provincials, the whole rabble who have joined forces with the reverends and right reverends. And when they sleep with women they spoil them just like foods are spoiled by someone who gorges his guts till they burst. And although you sing for them the song sung for old men: Slug and snail Push forth your (three little horns, Three and four And the blacksmith's . . .

they never rise up until you do it with their husbands. PIPPA What, monks and priests have husbands? [ 218 ]

NANNAlkjhWould that they had wives the way they have husbands! PIPPA My goodness! NANNAlkjhI would like to tell you . . . but I really wouldn't. PIPPA Why not? NANNAlkjhBecause he who tells the truth crucifies Christ. But I've told you anyway, and it's all for a good cause. If you tell lies you get a grand welcome, and if you tell the truth you get a nasty one. So it is a miserable tongue that called me an old whore and a wretched go-between. And that's why I tell you flat out that the big fish in the monkhood and priesthood sleep with courtesans in order to watch them being humped by their male whores—yes, male whores. They whet their appetites while watching them probe away per alia via (as the Epistle says); and you should remain friendly with them and go when they call you, because, if you get my meaning, when they can have their lovers do with you what they wish, they immediately get a crush on you and fling after you all the income of the bishopric, the abbey, the chapter house, and the order. PIPPA I hope I can come into possession, by whoring for them, of even the bell in the belfry. NANNAlkjhYou will be only doing your duty, if you do. Ha ha ha! I'm laughing at the merchants, whom I haven't mentioned as yet. PIPPA But you did. NANNAlkjhOh, you mean the Germans. But they almost always work for others, and so they will make sure not to visit you, as I told you before. The big merchants, however, the fathers of cash —may they get a tumor in the groin! For they want women who work as whores to manage on the pennies they dole out; and for one man who forks over cash, there are twenty who always have this answer ready: "I have put it out to usury—I mean to interest" whenever you ask them for anything. But the treacherous part of it is that they go bankrupt with their moneybags full, holing up in their houses and burying themselves alive in the churches; and then they say: "Such-and-such a whore has ruined me." I advise you, Pippa, to send these men packing, although some nitwit women imagine, though they don't know just why, that their friendship boosts their reputa[ 219 ]

tion. So when anyone asks: "Who is that man?" they fancy that the answer: "He is a merchant," canonizes them as goddesses—but they are not worth much, not at all, by my soul! PIPPA I believe it. NANNAlkjhIn our trade a woman has to show more than gloves, a letter in hand, and a ring on her finger. PIPPA I think so, too. NANNAlkjhMy dear daughter, I have told you a legend fit for a duchess, and you can be sure that mothers like me aren't born in the hedges; nor will you find a preacher in the Maremma capable of preaching you the sermon I have preached. And if you keep it well in mind, I want to be put in the pillory if you are not adored as the richest and wisest whore that ever was, is, or will be; and so when I die, I shall die content. And remember that the stenches, the slobberings, the spits, the irksomeness of the disgusting breaths, whims, and curses of your lovers are like musty wine: after drinking it for three days one forgets the musty odor. But I also want you to listen to two little words about two little things. PIPPA About what? NANNAlkjhThe first is that you should never put velvet pillows on silken beds, which conceited sluts even throw on the floor, forcing the men who address them to kneel on them—you piggish wretches, may you die of famine tied to the wagon shafts! The next thing: be discreet in using your hands; just dip them lightly into your paintboxes, and don't daub your face like those wretched Lombards. A slight touch of red is quite enough to drive away the pallor which may often be spread on your cheeks by a bad night's sleep, an indisposition, or doing it too much. In the morning before eating rinse your mouth with fresh water from the well; and if you want your skin to be clear, bright, and always the same, I'll give you my book of recipes from which you shall learn how to take care of your complexion and keep your skin lovely. And I will have you make a marvelous talcum water; and I'll give you a delicate, extremely delicate lavender for your hands. I have something you must hold in your mouth which, besides preserving your teeth, turns your breath into the scent of carnations. I'm shocked by these overpainted sluts who besmear themselves with flour and varnish themselves like carnival

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maskers at Modena, loading so much umber on their lips that anyone who kisses them feels his lips burning strangely; and let's not mention the bad breath, the rotting teeth, and wrinkles that this or that woman tries to smooth away with cosmetics! Pippa . . . PIPPA My lady? NANNADon't use musk, civet, or any pungent perfume, be-lkjh cause they are only good for covering up the stench of those who stink. But baths, yes, and as often as you can. Wash and rewash on every possible occasion, for washing with water in which sweetsmelling herbs have been boiled leaves the flesh with that ineffable sweetness that rises from freshly washed linen when it has just been taken from the press and unfolded; and just as a person who sees very white linen cannot keep from rubbing his face in it, so a. man who sees a bright white breast, neck, and cheeks cannot keep himself from kissing them again and again. And so that your teeth are properly cleaned, before getting up in the morning take the edge of the sheet and rub them several times to remove all the matter which has encrusted them and still is soft before the air gets into your mouth. But here comes a crowd of pleasant things which stream out of my imagination just when I wanted to wind up with "I have nothing more to tell you that I can remember." You should know that I am a deep dark well, which has so large a vein that the deeper one digs, the more there is. Now tie this remembrance knot to your finger. PIPPA It's tied. NANNAlkjhWhen Saint Philip's day approaches, begin telling your most ardent lovers that you have taken a vow to pay for twenty masses on the eve of your saint's day, and to feed ten poor people; they'll have to share the costs among them. And when the eve and holiday arrive, start grumbling; complain bitterly, saying: "Am I forced to bear this burden on my conscience and soul again. . . ." "But why?" the fools will ask. "Because," you'll reply, "the priests are riding about in style today and tomorrow and can't be bothered saying my masses." And then, putting the masses off till some future time, you may keep the crowns together with your honor. PIPPA Which suits me fine. NANNAlkjhIf you happen to see in your house a herd of lovers [ 221 ]

and gentlemen who have come to enjoy your company, pretend you have suddenly gotten the whim to go for a stroll for a few hours. And without being elaborate about it, putting on neither oil nor salt, adorn yourself with an artfulness which seems wholly accidental. Then go out your door together with them, crying: "Let's go to the Pace church"; and there, after having mumbled a few lines of an Our Father, go up Via Pellegrino and stop at every dry goods shop and get them to trot out all the luxury items they have such as pomades, perfumes, and other trifles. And when you see something you like don't cry: "You buy me this, and you buy me that," but "I like this and I like that." And have them set them aside for you, saying: "I'll send someone to pick them up." Do the same with the perfumes and similar bagatelles. PIPPA What are you aiming at? NANNAlkjhAt their dovecote. PIPPA And with what crossbow? NANNAlkjhWith the bow of their generosity, which would consider itself vituperated if then and there or at least soon after they did not buy the things you'd reserved, giving them to you as gifts. PIPPA Bad cess to those with little wit. NANNAlkjhAnd when you're back at your house, slice up your favors minutely among them, and behave as I shall tell you. PIPPA You've already told me about my favors. NANNAlkjh1 have told you and I want to tell you all over again: for knowing how to charm people is the remedy which those who cast spells prescribe against poison. So sit yourself down on a very low stool and have two of the men stretch out at your feet; and, since you will be seated between two other men, stretch out your arms and give them each a hand, and then turning now to this one, now to that, you will satisfy two more with your conversation. Favor the rest of them with your glances, flashing them winks and giving them to believe that your heart lives in your eyes and not in your hands, feet, or words. So, eight dolts will be rubbing against the graces of your art all at the same time. PIPPA Two at a go. NANNAlkjhEven if this or that man doesn't please you, make an [ 222 ]

effort and force your nature: take as your model the sick man who gulps down disgusting medicines to cure his illness. So you will also be cured, not of poverty—since you are rich even without being a whore—but of whoredom by becoming a lady, which you shall be in fact if not in name. PIPPA If believing counts, then I am a lady now. NANNAlkjhHold on to this: do not ever let yourself be swept off your feet by those men who go to great lengths to keep you all to themselves. Don't trust them, no matter how rich and noble they may be. For the rage of love and the frenzy of jealousy can turn men topsy-turvy, and can work miracles as long as it lasts. Angela Greca can swear to this, for she ended up with a bed that couldn't even accommodate her feet. It's important that you have a lot of lovers, because the ones who are enamored don't last. And it should be clear that if there's no other advantage from giving yourself to a mob, at least it makes you more beautiful. This is proven by uninhabited houses which fill up with cobwebs and look dreary and old, and iron tools which become shiny after you polish them. PIPPA That's true. NANNAlkjhBesides, whoever doubts that very many men accomplish a great deal, while a few men accomplish little, is an idiot. The big thing is that I want you to be like a she-wolf that gets in among a flock of sheep, and not simply one sheep at a time. Now what I wish to say now, my dear daughter, is this: if indeed envy was a whore and therefore is the whore's pet and darling, keep it tightly shut in your body; and when you hear or see that Lady Tullia and Lady Beatricicca put on a grand display of tapestries, hangings, jewels, and gowns, you should show them how happy this makes you and declare: "Truly, their virtues and their graces deserve greater rewards. May God bless the courtesy of those who have given them these gifts!" The upshot: both women will fall deeply in love with you, whereas they would hate you just as deeply if you turned up your nose and said: "We have come to a bad end if they intend to be taken for Queen Isolde. One day I'll be seeing both of them go to shit without a candle!" And believe me, the martyrdom one whore suffers at seeing other whores beautifully adorned is crueler than an old [ 223 ]

ache from the French malady which lodges in the ankle of a foot, the cap of the knee, or the joint of an arm, or to put it more strongly, fiercer than one of those headaches which Saint Cosimo and Saint Damiano rolled together can't cure. PIPPA Let the priests have the aches! NANNAlkjhWe come now to the devotions useful to body and soul. I want you to fast not on the Sabbath, like those other whores who want to be more pious than the Old Testament, but on all the eves of holy days, on all four Ember Weeks and on every Friday in March. And you should get the reputation of never sleeping with anyone on these holy nights. Meanwhile, sell these nights secretly to the man who is ready to pay the most, being careful that your other lovers don't catch you swindling them. PIPPA Why should I pay a duty on my own goods! NANNAlkjhNow make a note of this r/retty hoax. Pretend you're ill now and stay in bed for a few days, neither in bed clothes nor undressed because not only will you be courted like a lady, but fine wines, fat capons, and all good things will slowly wend your way. Tricks like this are performed more with gestures than with words. PIPPA I like this living in indolence both profitably and splendidly. NANNAlkjhAs to what to charge for the pleasures you will sell, I must set you straight, since it is of great importance. You must go about it shrewdly and take into account the financial condition of him who wants these pleasures, behaving in such a way that while you are asking for dozens of ducats, you will not let a couple or half that amount slip through your net. Make sure that your high prices are bruited about everywhere, while the bargain prices are kept hidden. Let the man who gives you one ducat hand it over and keep quiet about it; while the man who gives you ten must be primed to trumpet it all over town. So at the end of the month, what you made on the sly is so much extra money. She who gives herself for less than twenty ducats is like a cloth-covered window, which can be ripped open by the slightest breeze. Here I just remembered something about which I must warn you. Daughter, when you are out hunting a nice fat quail, [ 224 ]

if one comes close to your net, don't frighten him away with loud talk, but hold your breath until he falls in. After he is caught, strip him to his asshole, whether he's dead, alive, or just stunned. P1PPA I don't understand. NANNAlkjhWhat I mean is that if you happen to get a wealthy man between your legs, I don't want you to scare him away by asking for all sorts of extravagances; just take what he gives you. When he is really in deep, you can flay him alive. A gambler who wants to show that he can lose lets the sucker win several hands, and then he can cheat him as much as he wishes. PIPPA I shall do the same. NANNAlkjhNever waste time, Pippa: tidy up the house, sew a few stitches for the sake of appearances, fold up cloth, hum a song you learned for the fun of it, pick at the guitar, strum the lute, put on a show of reading Furhsv, Petrarch, and Boccaccio's Hundred Tales, which you should always keep in full view on your table, stand behind the curtained window and then go elsewhere, think and think again about the craft of whoring. And when doing anything else bores you, shut yourself up in your room and, holding your mirror in your hand, learn from it how to blush artfully, and also the gestures, the modes and movements that accompany laughing and crying, lowering your eyes to look at your waist, and raising them to wherever you must. PIPPA What subtle points! NANNAlkjhI just remembered the slang used by swindlers and gamblers. Don't take delight in it or listen to the person who delights in it, because perforce you will be regarded as a swatch from the same bolt of wool, and you could never open your mouth without arousing everyone's suspicions. And although I give you permission to use all the swindles when the time is ripe, especially with those men whom the Good Lord made to be swindled, and you can turn your back on them with an easy mind—on no account will I agree to your using jargon or slang. PIPPA A hint's enough. NANNAlkjhI am not teaching you how to defend yourself from scandal with excuses and quick retorts. I can feel your cleverness [ 225 ]

already pressing my foot and giving me the sign .not to waste my breath telling you about it. So I obey you: I say to you, if you want to make the man who loves you suffer from the pangs of passion, do it so that he does not suffer too much and it becomes a habit with him, like the man who takes a lease on the quartan fever for five or six years. Take the middle way, while following the advice of Serafino's poem which says: Neither too much cruelty nor too much kindness, For the first drives a man to despair, the second satiates.

Never fall so in love with a man, no matter how much you esteem him, that you can't give him two little hammer blows on the anvil of his heart. Above all fling open your door to the man who comes with full hands and slam it shut on the man who comes with empty ones. And manage matters so that he who gives you gifts will hear you, though you act as if you don't want him to, when you say to the man who gives nothing: "I like him so much that I don't give a hang for all the others." Always be the first to get angry with those you have insulted; for when they are conquered by love, they will say their maxima culpa for your shortcomings. But if by chance you get enraged with someone, do not wait too long to let out your wrath—else you run the risk of losing the chance altogether. Such love is like a slight hunger, which continues to tickle him even when his appetite is not completely satisfied. But after he has left the table, it suddenly goes away; and nothing would persuade him to take another mouthful. PIPPA 1 have been through it. NANNAlkjhHave I talked to you about oaths ? PIPPA Yes, but tell me again. NANNAlkjhI tell you and then tell again, according to the habit of women, who always repeat the same thing ten times over, as I have done perhaps. PIPPA You told me that I should never curse by God or the saints, and then you taught me to swear at him who, out of jealousy, forbade me to have other lovers. NANNAlkjhThat's true. Yes, one should swear but never curse, [ 226 ]

for it sounds bad enough in the mouth of a woman whose guts are lost, to say nothing of a woman who is constantly making money out of them. PIPPA I'll keep quiet. NANNAlkjhTeach your maid and valet so that while they're chatting with your lovers when you are away in your room, they can bring up certain things you'd like to have, and will know how to say: "Do you want to make the lady your slave? Buy her this or that, because she's really panting to get it." But make sure that they ask only for trifles, birds in gilded cages, for instance, a little green parrot . . . PIPPA Why not a gray one? NANNAlkjhThey're too expensive, and if you go that route you will wind up with a pittance. Afterward you can borrow whatever you please on certain occasions from this man and that and take your time about repaying it; and if they don't ask for it, don't give it, because the man who has loaned you the money, hesitates, broods, and waits on your discretion. During this time a sense of grandeur may be born in the spirits of many of these men, making them ashamed to send for, let's say, a doublet, cape, or shirt they've left at your place. So you will profit and gain some fine items. PIPPA I needed this piece of advice. NANNAlkjhI fished it up. Now listen—here you are two weeks away from St. Martin's Day. Summon a consistory of all of your lovers, sit down in the center of the circle, dazzle them all with the loveliest charms you know or are capable of, and after you have fully glazed them over with your simperings, say to them: "I want us to play the king of the bean, and as long as the carnival season lasts, each one of us who gets the bean will stand a supper. We will start with myself—it being understood, though, that no one will spend extravagant amounts but do it soberly and honestly." Now such an idea is a great source of pleasure and profit, for it offers all sorts of ways of making money. First of all, the supper you will give will *be paid for out of their purses. After this, the king is obliged to sleep with you on the evening of his supper, and for that particular night the king must perforce pay royally. On the other hand, every feast you have will leave leftovers which last for a week, and by scraping all together, you will have gained olive oil, firewood, wine, candles, [ 227 ]

salt, bread, and vinegar; and on the quiet you can sell this stuff again. But if the story gets around, you will earn such a bad name that you won't be able to buy the soap to wash your head; so it's best not to risk it. PIPPA Oh, that's a fine stunt. NANNAlkjhNow I offer you as many rubies as there are words in my mouth, and you can surely string them together as one strings pearls. Have your maidservant from time to time suck a red do-hinky on your throat or bite you twice on the cheek with her teeth, so that you will disgust the stomach of the man who thinks he is seeing the marks left by his rival. Rumple up your bed during the day, ruflfle your hair, bring a flush to your cheeks by working at something, but not too much; and then you'll see how the man who is jealous begins to huff and puff, as a husband huffs and puffs when he catches his wife in sin. PIPPA That goes straight to my heart. NANNAlkjhWhat goes to my heart is if my words grow fruits in your brain, as the wheat sown in the fields does; but if they are flung to the winds, it will be your ruination and my sorrow and despair, and you will shit away in a week whatever income I have left you. But if you follow my advice, you shall bless your mother's bones, flesh, and dust, and you will love her dead as much as I think you love her alive. PIPPA You can truly think that, Mama. NANNAlkjhNow I break off right here; and don't complain if the make-weight is heavier than the goods: be satisfied that I don't want to tell you any more. "What else could you want to tell me?" Pippa said to her mother; and Nanna got to her feet, stiff from sitting so long, and yawning and stretching went to the kitchen and ordered supper. Her daughter, now instructed and wise, quite happy that she could soon open her shop for business, nibbled at the meal with the tips of her teeth. She really looked like a young girl whose father has just promised to marry her off to her lover; so full of joy that she could scarcely contain her pride. But since Nanna was worn out from talking and Pippa from listening, they soon went to sleep in the same bed. The next morning they [ 228 ]

awoke well rested and ate when the time for it came. And, as they started to converse again, Pippa, who had dreamt a lovely dream along about dawn, told it in detail to her mother, just as Nanna was about to open her mouth to tell her of the betrayals that come from men's love. And so ends the first day.

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2 THE SECOND DAY OF THE DIALOGUE OF MESSER PIETRO ARETINO, IN WHICH NANNA. TELLS PIPPA ALL THE VICIOUS BETRAYALS THAT MEN WREAK ON WOMEN. PIPPA Let me tell you my dream, and then I'll listen to you. NANNAlkjhTell it. PIPPA Will you unravel its meaning? NANNAlkjhI will. PIPPA This morning, just about dawn, I imagined I was in a high, large, beautiful room, whose walls were bedecked in green and yellow satin, and on its draperies were fastened gilt swords, embroidered velvet hats, caps with medallions, studded shields, paintings, and other noble accouterments. In one corner of the room stood a bed coveerd with curly brocade, and I, as abbotly as an abbot, sat on a crimson chair all studded with gold bosses like the Pope's chair. Around me roamed oxen, donkeys, sheep, big buffaloes, foxes, peacocks, owls, and blackbirds. It was futile for me to goad, beat, fleece, and flay them, tear out their hair, pluck the feathers or quills from their wings and tails, and deride them in every way, for they would not leave; on the contrary, they licked me from head to foot Now I should very much like you to tell me the meaning of this apparition. NANNAlkjhI understand this dream as well as Daniel. You can consider yourself fortunate, because the oxen and donkeys which you goaded and beat are the skinflints who will cling to your tail even if they croak. The sheep and buffaloes are the poor men who will let themselves be clipped and skinned alive by your deceptions. The [ 231 ]

foxes I see as those astute fellows whom you will cudgel unmercifully after you've caught them in your traps. The tailless peacocks I take for rich and handsome youths; while the owls and blackbirds are the run of men, who will be lost just from seeing you and hearing you talk. PIPPA Where does that leave the other things? NANNAlkjhGo slowly: the bedecked room denotes your grandeur; the noble accouterments fastened to the draperies are the small thefts which you will snatch by stealth from the hand of one man or another; the Papal throne indicates the honors you will receive from everyone. Yes, indeed, you shall get the grand prize. PIPPA Wait, wait: the peacocks I dreamt about kept looking at their feet and did not squawk, as they usually do. What does it mean ? NANNAlkjhYou see, my prophecies are turning out to be true. This shows how wise you will become! And so those who because of their love for you are stranded on the beach of Barbary will not lament. Now, listen to me and, while listening, tightly seal my statements in your mind; and may it be God's will that your mother's admonitions are enough to protect you from men's wiles! Alas! I say alas in honor of those poor women who get their asses scorched by bawds, amateur whoremasters, missives, promises, love, importunity, convenience, money, flattery, good looks, and the bad luck that grabs them by a hank of their hair. And don't think for a moment that all this just concerns whores or non-whores; no, these misfortunes strike at everyone, they cling to all. But since I want my conversation to be a banquet of the most thoughtful of viands, and since J never waited on diners, I don't quite know what to serve you first. And although the antipasto is meant to sharpen the appetite, I prefer when eating to start off with the best dish. So I shall open up with the most refined treachery I have in stock, just as a woman's pretty face is the first thing that people see: what man would care about her after seeing, instead of her face, the bad bargain of her body concealed by her dress ? In fact, when they see the pretty face first, they assume that the rest is first-rate merchandise. PIPPA Your comparisons are always brand new. But go on. NANNAlkjhA baron living in Rome but not born there crawled through a hole, like the mice, and escaped from the sack of Rome. He [232]

was on some ship, and the savagery of the wild winds flung him and his many companions on the shore of a great city ruled by a lady whose name cannot be uttered. She was out for a stroll when she saw the poor man stretched on the sand, soaking wet, broken, deathly pale, his clothes torn and tattered, looking more like fear than today's Roman court resembles the rabble; and the worst of it was that the peasants, thinking him a Spanish grandee, were clustered around to do to him and his companions what bandits in a forest do to some unarmed wayfarer who has lost his way. But the lady, having sent them off with a nod of her head, approached and comforted him with her gracious aspect and kind manners, and then brought him to her palace. She had both the ship and its sailors put to rights with lordly lavishness. When she went to see the baron, who had completely recovered, she remained to hear his poem, speech, sermon, and preachment, in which he swore that he would forget her kindness when rivers ran uphill (oh men, you traitors, liars, and cheats!); and while he was bragging in the true Roman manner, the wretched creature, the ninny, devoured him with her eyes and, staring at his chest and shoulders, was transfixed. She overflowed with wonder at seeing the haughtiness of his face; his eyes gleaming with honor made her sigh, and his golden hair curled like engraved and lacquered metal did her in once and for all. Nor could she stop gazing delightedly at his comely figure, at the grace which that she-pig, Nature, had given him. She was lost in rapture before the divinity of that face. Cursed be both the face and the honeyed talk! PIPPA Why do you curse them ? NANNAlkjhThey are often cheats. Most of the time they trick us, and my witness is the baron's presence, which drove the lady I speak of stark raving mad. In less time than it takes for a woman to change her mind she had the table laid; and when the extremely royal supper was all prepared, she sat down with the baron beside her, and all his companions were there too, and the people of the place, side by side and successively, according to the hierarchical order established by Melchisedech. In the meantime a magnificence of silver dishes heaped with food was brought by a multitude of servants to the hungry men; and when the baron had satisfied his appetite, he presented the lady with gifts. [ 233 ]

PIPPA What did he give her? NANNAlkjhA mitre made of fine silk brocade which His Holiness wore on his head on Ash Wednesday; a pair of shoes embroidered with gold ribands with which his feet were shod on the day that Gian-Matteo, Pope Clement VII's datary, slobbered them with kisses; the pastoral of Pope Tow-Head, I mean Pope Linen; the ball atop the obelisk; a key torn from the hand of one of the guardians of St. Peter's stairs; a tablecloth from the palace's storehouse; and I don't know how many relics of the santa santorum which his prosopopoeia had, if one credited his boasting, rescued from the enemies' hands. Then a skillful rebec player appeared and, having tuned his instrument, sang some strange tales. PIPPA May God save you, what did he sing about? NANNAlkjhHe sang of the hostility that heat has for cold, and cold for heat. He sang of why the days of summer are long and those of winter short. He sang of the link between lightning and thunder, thunder and the flash, the flash and the cloud, the cloud and the clear sky. He sang about where the rain stays when the weather is good, and where good weather goes when it rains. He sang of hail, hoar frost, snow, and mist. He sang, I believe, of the woman who rents out rooms, who refrains from laughter when her lodgers weep, and of another woman who refrains from weeping when they laugh; and at the end he sang about the fire which flickers in the butt-end of a glowworm, and as to whether a grasshopper chirrs with its body or its mouth. PIPPA Such lovely secrets! NANNAlkjjhIndeed the lady of the manor, who listened to that singing like the dead listen to the kyrie eleison, was already wildly infatuated by her guest's gab and gallantry, and as she seemed only to be alive when he was shooting a breeze, she began to ask him about the Popes and Cardinals. After this she begged him to tell her how priestly astuteness had let.itself be caught, in the claws of the demons of Malebolge. Then the baron, wishing to obey her supplications and heaving one of those sighs which treacherously escape from the liver of a whore when she lays eyes on a stuffed purse, said: "Since Your Highness, my lady, wants me to remember things that make me hate my memory when it reminds me of them, I will tell you how the [ 234 ]

empress of the world became the slavey of the Spaniards; and besides I will tell you about all the miseries I have seen. But what Marrano, what German, what Jew could be so cruel as to relate these things without bursting into tears?" Then he went on: "My lady, it is time for bed, and already the stars are vanishing; but if it is your wish to know our story, even though it renew my sorrow, I will begin to tell it." So saying, he told about those Romans who, in order to make a profit of ten ducats, were willing to be done in. Then he got to how the rumor ran through Rome of the approach of the German foot soldiers and Spanish God-swearers, who were marching with banners unfurled to make her the world's asshole. And then all the people there began crying to each other: "Pick up your couch and start walking"; and certainly every single one of them would have headed for the open, fallow fields if that bastardly proclamation which said that anyone who flees will be hanged hadn't been put in force. He then related how after the proclamation those cowardly people began hiding their money, silver, jewels, necklaces, gowns, and all things of value; he told how clusters and knots of scattered men gathered here arid there, and all of them were saying what had caused them to be afraid, just as it popped into their heads. Meanwhile the district chiefs and bigwigs—may the plague take them!—began sauntering up and down with their files of soldiers; and surely if courage could be measured in fine doublets, elegant breeches, and gilt swords, the Spaniards and the Germans would have had a rough time of it. The baron told a story about a hermit who went bawling through the streets: "Do penance, priests! Do penance, thieves! Ask God for mercy, because the hour of your punishment is near, it has arrived, it has struck!" But their pride had no ears, and so when the Scribes and Pharisees appeared at the Cross of Monte Mario (he said) and the sun glinted on their arms, the bestial light they gave off made the dunces, who had rushed to the ramparts, tremble with far greater fear than at the flare of thunder. So much so that none of them thought any longer about breaking the ranks of the soldiers who were advancing, but each one was looking for a hole to hide in. Then a noise arose from the gate of Monte di Santo Spirito; and our at the first assault piazza heroes performed their duty like a man who does a thing [ 235 ]

well once and never manages to do it so well again. What I mean to say is that they killed the Bourbon, and capturing heaps of banners, bore them to the palace, shouting so many hurrahs that they deafened both heaven and earth. Just when they thought that they had won the day, lo and behold, the barriers at Monte Spirito were broken; and the enemy, after making mincemeat of many persons who had nothing to do with the battle, broke into the Borgo. From there some of the enemy crossed the bridge, and having gone as far as the Banchi quarter, they pulled back. It was said that the good soul of the castle, into which our friend Clement VII had run for cover, did not bombard them for two reasons: first, because it was too stingy to use the balls and powder; second, not to ge't the enemy any angrier than they already/were. All they did was lower ropes to haul to saintly safety the city s great prelates, who had a fire singeing their assholes. Soon night came. The lunkheads guarding Sisto Bridge were routed, and the army dropped back from the Trastevere and scattered all through Rome. Screams were heard; gates were broken down; everyone ran, everyone hid, everyone lamented and wept. Meanwhile blood poured over the ground, people were massacred, the tortured howled, prisoners prayed, women tore their hair, old men shuddered and shook, and the entire city was turned upside down. Blessed was the man who died quickly, or while lingering on, found someone to finish him off. But who could possibly tell all the terrible events of such a night? The friars, monks, chaplains, and all the other rabble, armed and unarmed, huddled in the tombs, more dead than alive. Nor was there a cave, hole, well, tower, cellar, or any other secret hiding place which was not immediately jammed with all sorts of people. The bankers and notables were beaten with clubs, mocked and spat upon, and their clothes were torn off their backs. Nor were the churches, hospitals, houses, or anything else paid the slightest respect; they entered even places forbidden to men and out of contempt drove the nuns into brothels, which spells excommunication for any woman who goes there. But the greatest pity was to see fires raging in the golden loggias and the painted palaces; and what sorrow at hearing the husbands, blood streaming from their wounds, calling for their lost wives with voices that would make that mound of marble, the Colosseum, which stands up without the slightest cement, fall apart from weeping. The [ 236 ]

baron told the lady what I'm now telling you, but when he began to describe the lamentations of the Pope, who was cursing the various people who had betrayed him, he let loose such a flood of tears that he almost drowned himself; and no longer able to spit out a single word, he sat there silent. PIPPA Why did he weep over the Pope's misfortunes when he was an enemy of the priests? NANNAlkjhBecause we are still Christians, and they are still sacerdotes; and the soul must tend to its affairs. And so the baron almost reached the point of utter anguish. At this the lady got to her feet, took him by the hand, which she gave two soft squeezes, and accompanied him to his room, and after bidding him good night, went off to sleep. PIPPA You've done right to cut the story short, because I ccmldn't listen to any more without terrible pain. NANNAlkjhI have only told you a tattered bit of it lamely and in haste, giving you a word here and a fact there, for to tell the truth, I have sent my memory to be reshod, and what's more, one would never get to the end, so many cruelties were perpetrated during the sack of Rome. And if I wanted to narrate the looting, murders, and rapes committed by Romans in houses where the fugitives felt they were safe, I would risk rousing the hatred of many people who think that no one knows how they murdered their friends. PIPPA Forget the truth and tell only lies; then people will think more highly of you. NANNAkjhghI shall do it one day, by all means. PIPPA Do it and don't talk about it. NANNAlkjhYou'll see. Now back to our story. The lady, snared by the bird lime with which love had smeared the baron's presence and manner, was all aflame; and her heart slithered up and down in her breast as if it were made of quicksilver. And thinking of the great honor of his ilk and the great deeds she imagined he had done on that terrible night, she twisted and turned on her bed like a person who has a freezing, burning passion; and since the blabber's face and words were tightly fixed in her head, it wrecked her sleep. And the very next morning, when Messer Sun's colors had painted Mistress Aurora's cheeks, she went to see her sister; and after hastily reeling [ 237 ]

off a snatch of a dream, she said: "What do you think of the pilgrim who has come here ? Have you ever seen a handsomer man ? Imagine the miracles he must have performed with arms in hand when they were righting for Rome? He must surely be of noble birth; and certainly if I hadn't, after the death of my first consort, made a vow to remain a widow, I might even be led to make the same mistake again, but only with him. And certainly, sister, I do not conceal the fact, indeed I swear it on the new affection I bear the noble foreigner, that since he died my heart has been bereft of love, and, now I begin again to sense the signs of the ancient flame, which once consumed me in a trice, and not gradually. But before I do anything that is not decent and respectable may the earth open and swallow me alive, or a lightning bolt from the sky fling me into the abyss. I shall not rip up the laws of honor: he who had my love bore it off with him to the other world, and he will enjoy it there in secolorum secula." And after saying these words, she began to wail so loudly that you would have thought she had been beaten. PIPPA Poor woman. NANNAHer sister, who wasn't a hypocrite and took thingslkjh straight on, mocked her oath and her tears and answered her by saying: "Is it possible that you do not want to learn how sweet it is to make babies, and how honeyed are the gifts of Madonna Venus? What madness of yours is this? Do you think that the souls of the dead haven't better things to think about than whether their widows will marry again or not? But I want you to earn this victory of not having stooped to taking one of the many princes who wanted you. Do you want to fight with that floozy Cupid? You fool, don't do it, because you'll end up with a broken head; besides, all your neighbors are your enemies. You should know how to recognize good fortune, which has put its forelock in your hand; and just imagine, if our blood mixes with Roman blood, what city can compete with us? Now let's have prayers said in all the monasteries so that heaven will lead us to fortune. In the meanwhile it should be easy to keep him here; and perhaps he will be glad of it, since he is broken and forlorn, and then too because of the harshness of the cold which blows out of the heart of winter." And do you want to know the rest, Pippa? She sang vespers so effectively that she strangeld her vows and respectability. [ 238 ]

My lady flung her honor over her shoulder, so that whether she was staying or going she saw and heard the baron. Night came, and when the crickets finally slept, she was still awake, tossing from side to side, talking to herself about him, burning with an anguish that only a person who goes to bed and gets up as the passion hammer commands can understand. And to be quite clear about it, her soul was compromised, and she came to an evil end with our friend: she did it, my daughter. PIPPA Wisely. NANNAlkjhNo, stupidly. PIPPA Why? NANNAlkjhBecause figured music says that To him who nourishes a cold serpent in his breast Will happen what happens to the clodhopper; When he has made it warm and healthy, It will then pay him with its venom.

I will tell you later about the traitor. Scarcely had our lady set horns on the good memory of the husband who had recently traveled to the gates of hell than chattering gossip, idle gossip, vicious-tongued gossip went announcing it everywhere, so that the noblemen who had asked for her hand in marriage gave their souls to the devil with the greatest bravado in the world, and cursed heaven and fortune in a thousand different ways. Meanwhile Cain, who now was fed, clothed, and set up again in the proper style, called together his companions and said: "Brothers, Rome has appeared to me in a vision and commanded me in the name of all the saints to leave here, because I have the task of founding another, more beautiful city. So get things ready on the quiet; and while you are doing so, I shall find the quickest way to bid the lady good-bye." But who can throw dust in lovers' eyes, who see what others cannot see and hear what others cannot hear ? Even before she saw everything in disorder, she realized that the good almoner wanted to beat it on his ship. That made her furious, and losing all sense and reason, she ran through the fields like a madwoman. Then, appearing before "the baron with her drawn face, weeping eyes, and dry lips, she untied her tongue knotted by the bonds of passion and from her mouth came these words: "Did you [ 239 ]

think, disloyal man, that you could slip away from here without my knowing it, eh? Isn't the sight of our love, our plighted troth, and the death I am ready to welcome, enough to stop you from leaving, as you have decided? But in truth you are even crueler toward yourself, for you want to sail away now that winter is at its greatest fury. Pitiless man, in such weather not only shouldn't you sail to foreign lands but even to Rome, even if it were flourishing now more than ever. You are running away from me, hard-hearted man, running away from me. Oh, I beg you by these tears dripping from my eyes, and by this right hand that must put an end to my martyrdom, and those wedding nights you inaugurated, if the pleasures you have had from me deserve anything, have pity on my state and my house, which, if you leave, will surely collapse. And if my prayers which sway even the Lord God find a place in your breast, rid yourself of this wish to leave. Since I have given myself to you, I have already incurred the hatred not only of the dukes, marquises, and noblemen whom I refused to marry, but I have also aroused the anger of my subjects and vassals; and I feel a prisoner of both. But I could bear anything if I could have a son from you, who, as he played, would show others your figure and your face." That's what she said to him, sobbing and crying. The dissembler, the master of deceit, obstinately determined by the dazzle of his dream, didn't even blink an eye; nor was he swayed by her pleading or tears, but looked like some miserable miser during a famine, who, seeing the poor drop dead on the streets, does not give a single mouthful to the hunger that destroys them. Finally, with a few words, he said that he did not forswear his obligations to her and would always remember her; and furthermore, he had never thought of leaving her without saying a word. But he denied with a bold, glassy face that he had promised to marry her and put the blame for his departure on celt celorum. He swore that an angel had appeared in a vision and had ordered him to accomplish great deeds, but he was wasting his breath. She was already staring at him with hostility; and the rage, which caused just disdain and grief to her burning heart, streamed from her eyes and mouth. So she turned to him and cried: "You were never a Roman and you lied in your throat when you said you were of noble blood. Testaccio, faithless man, has created you out of those

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pottery shards that form the hill there, and that place's sluts suckled you; that's why you have not taken the slightest pity on me as I was pleading and crying. But to whom shall I tell my misfortunes, since there is no one up there who looks rightfully at wrongs? Certainly these days loyalty no longer exists, and that is the simple truth. Why, look, I gathered up this man, crushed by the sea, I let him share all my belongings, I gave him the gift of myself, and it is not enough that he abandons me, betrayed and vituperated. He must also, to make it more painful, try to convince me that the message came to him from heaven, reporting to him the secrets of Our Almighty Lord, who has nothing better to do than worry his head over one man's misadventures! But I shall not detain you. Go, go, follow the track of dreams and visions, which certainly will revive the people of Israel. But my hope is that, if you do go, you will suffer pain among the sea rocks. And when I will hear you call out my name, expecting my courtesy and kindness, hear you call more than seven times, I shall pursue you like an enemy. I shall have my revenge with fire and sword, and when I will be dead, my shadow, my soul, and my spirit shall persecute you. . . ." Then she could not utter another word; for anger had tightly blocked the path of words, and her speech was left dangling. Her eyes blurred like those of a sick person; she couldn't stand up, and fell back into the arms of her handmaidens, who carried her off to her bed, leaving the baron, whose cursed face blushed for the shame of the betrayal he was wreaking on that wretched woman. Are you crying, Pippa? PIPPA He should be murdered, the coward! NANNAlkjhAnd drawn and quartered! Then, after our lady's lament, he prepared to leave. And his men, having hauled the ship to shore, looked like ants who store seeds away for the winter. Some of them brought fresh water, others carried boughs covered with leaves, and still others the woes I wish on him! PIPPA What was the unlucky woman doing meanwhile? NANNAlkjhGroaning, moaning, ripping off all of her skin, and when she heard the shouts of the sailors she had fed, and the bustle of the crew and the other passengers, she had a spasm, burst, and was about to die. Alas, cruel love, why do you crucify us so cruelly and in so many ways? But here the lady, who still had a bit of hope, spoke [ 241 ]

to her sister, saying: "Sister, can't you see that he is leaving, and the ship is preparing to sail away?'But why, oh ungrateful heaven, if I could desire so fervently, can't I bear it now? Yet, sister, you alone can help me, since that traitor always made you privy to his thoughts and always trusted you. So go and speak to him; and when you do, try to humiliate him, telling him for me that I was not allied with those who in the name of peace turned his country into a ruin, and that I did not drag his father's bones out of the grave. And this being so, he should listen to my four little words before I die. Tell him to grant me who unluckily adores him this one favor; not to leave now, but to wait until the sea is more navigable. I do not want to be his wife, since he has contempt for me, nor do I wish him to remain here, but I do ask him to tarry a while so that my grief will not be so sharp —I want this so that I can learn how to bear it." And then she fell silent, tears streaming down her face. PIPPA My heart bursts. NANNAlkjhHer miserable sister, my dear Pippa, carried her words, her weeping, and her desperation to their destination, but that hard man was not at all softened; indeed he behaved like a wall hit by a flimsy balloon. Finally the lady, convinced he was leaving, tried to cast a spell on him, although she knew she would always be sorry she did it. PIPPA Did it help her? NANNAlkjhNot a bit! She called up witches, ghosts, demons, imps, goblins, fairies, spirits, sibyls, moons, suns, stars, harpies, heavens, earth, seas, infernal, regions, and other bedevilments. She scattered black waters, the ashes of the defunct, herbs dried in the shade; she muttered complicated oaths, drew signs, characters, strange visages, and whispered to herself—and not a single saint seemed to care a whit about these fake lovers. It was midnight when she was casting her bewitchment in secret. The owls, screech owls, and bats were fast asleep; only she could not sleep a wink, for love still tormented her. And after having kept silent for some time, she began to rave, saying to herself: "Now, wretched woman, what shall I do? Should I ask one of those men I despised to marry me? Should I submit to the Roman's whims? Yes, it may be useful to me, since I have helped them and they are grateful people. But if I did want to [ 242 ]

go aboard that proud ship, who would accept me? Besides, don't I know these Romans' lies, and how they will mock me if I go to them? What's more, should I agree to their sailing out on the open sea now ? Yes, die, die, miserable woman—end your .grief with the sword. But you, sister, you drove me into these troubles, you offered me to my enemy, you made me betray my husband's ashes and my vow of chastity, disloyal, wicked woman that I am." PIPPA What a lovely lament! NANNAlkjhIf it moves you hearing it told by me, who have torn it all apart, mixing it up pitifully as I tell it, what would it have done to you if you had heard it from her own mouth? PIPPA Her grief would have destroyed me. NANNAlkjhThat's exactly true. Now the baron had the oars dipped into the water; and as he was scuttling away he often turned around, as though he felt he had his entire people behind him. When the sun came up, the disconsolate woman, to whom the past night had seemed three times as long, like masses said at Christmastime, looked out the window; and seeing the ship far from its moorings, she began beating her breast, scratching her face, and tearing her hair. Then she cried: "Oh God, is this man leaving me just to spite me? Can this foreigner be so scornful of my country? Can my power have no influence over him? Can't it pursue him to the ends of the earth ? Come, bring me arms and fire! But what am I saying ? Where am I? Who has torn my mind from its rightful place? Ah, unhappy woman, your cruel fate is not far off. I should have done it when I could, not now when I can't. You see, this is the faith and loyalty of the man who saved the Roman relics! This is the compassionate patriot! Yes, here he is! He comes to me by showing me his back; he repays me with his shoulderblades for my kindness and courtesy. But why didn't I poison him as soon as I knew that he was a criminal ? Why didn't I have him cut into little pieces so that I could eat his warm, quivering flesh? Perhaps doing it had me in doubt or I felt it to be dangerous; and yet if you think of it, could anything be worse than what is now happening to me? Since I had to die, wouldn't it have been better to drown them first or burn them together with their ship?" After this she cursed Rome's seed, site, past, present, and future and prayed to Heaven and the deepest abyss to give birth from [ 243 ]

its very bones to men of vengeance and hatred. And then, having said every word that came to her lips, she sent her nurse away on some errand and prepared to kill herself. PIP?A What! Kill herself? NANNAlkjhYes, kill herself. PIPPA But how? NANNAlkjhgHer face dazed, her cheeks streaked with the pallor o death, her eyes flecked with blood, she went into her bedroom, and driven to a fury by the behests of desperation, she unsheathed a sword which that Cain had given her. Just as she was about to plunge it into her breast without a word, her bleared eyes saw some Roman clothes and the bed in which she had lain with Judas; so she stopped for a moment, stopped to utter her final words. They were almost in these exact terms, which, since a pedagogue taught them to me, I have always kept in my mind, like the prayer for our daily bread: "Oh remains which once were as sweet to me as God, and which fate meant to be so, take, I beg you, this soul released from its living fire. I who have lived the time I must, go below the ground with this picture in my mind. I who have built a city of great renown, I who have seen my great works and have revenged myself on my husband's brother—I would have been the happiest of the happy if that Roman ship had not landed on my shores." After these words she banged at the bed with her head and, in a fury, kicked it to pieces, and with chattering teeth shrieked: "We shall not die without revenge. For you, sword, by piercing my breast will kill that hardened Roman, who is still living in my heart; and so we shall die together, for that is the right way to die." She had barely pronounced the last word when her companions burst into the room and saw the murderous weapon plunged deep in her body. PIPPA What did the baron say when he heard about it? NANNAlkjhThat she was crazy. So she took her little journey to the other world just as I've told you, and it all came about because she had given another person too much pleasure. So don't talk to me about men! They're monsters! I swear to God that the betrayals we clap on them are sweetmeats compared to what they do to us. And just so you'll believe me, listen to the prank which some scholar and some courtier played on a stingy whore. [ 244 ]

PIPPA You haven't taught me how I should live with scholars and courtiers. NANNAlkjhThese two dissolute men will teach you for me. Listen carefully so that from a single scholar and a single courtier you will learn everything. PIPPA Very well, but wait a minute, wait. NANNAlkjhWhy? PIPPA Last night I dreamed two dreams, and I told you only one. NANNAlkjhI never saw a more childish girl; why, you'd let go of the handle just to say your piece. PIPPA Listen to what I dreamt after the bedecked room. NANNAlkjhTell me; what was it? PIPPA I thought that all Rome was shouting so loud they almost choked: "Pippa, hey Pippa, your thieving mother has snitched Virgil's fourth book and is showing off in stolen raiment." NANNAlkjhHa ha ha! One drop more and you would have overflowed the rim of decency. But who the devil is this fellow? Even from the little I know about him, he must surely be a cretin to let a fourth of himself be stolen; and if that's how it is, the rest can certainly be thrown to the dogs. PIPPA But let's get to the scholar and courtier. NANNAlkjhA scholar much more skilled in swindles than in books, astute, wise, lively, a first-rate prankster and rascal, went to Venice. And after having crept quietly around the city for many days, enough to become informed about the richest, most thieving whores that lived there, he spoke secretly to the simpleton in whose house he •was staying, giving him to believe that he was the nephew of a cardinal and had come incognito to enjoy himself for a month and to buy the jewels and clothes he wanted. Soon after he summoned him and said: "Brother, I want to sleep with such-and-such a lady. Go to her and tell her who I am, but make her swear not to tell anyone else; and if she does as I say, she will get to see the beauty of my soul." The nuncio trotted off; and when he got to her door, he played on it a tick-tack-tock that brought her maidservant to the balcony, so they said. And recognizing a middleman for her mistress' merchandise, •without asking any other questions she pulled the door latch. And [ 245 ]

atfer he had fully filled the lady in, he led to her fortress the most reverend monsignor's fake nephew, who strode up the stairs with priestly majesty. The lady came to meet him and, after giving him a careful once-over, saw how haughty he looked in his long, curly hair, his black satin doublet, cap, and velvet pumps. She then offered him her hands and lips, with the most respectable whorishness that can be attained; and when she began conversing with him, she heard him at every opportunity drag in a reference to "my uncle the Monsignor." He nodded his head with certain drooping motions more noble than nobility, and from his demeanor it would seem that everything stank in his nostrils. He spoke slowly, softly, properly; and after spitting to one side and the other, he would listen to himself with the greatest pleasure. PIPPA I see him in my imagination. NANNAlkjhWhat are you looking for ? This Venetian woman was on the alert; and at every bit of praise the lecher would throw her way, she'd answer: "I'm dying," "Enough," or "Nonsense." I can't tell you all the foolishness he prattled; anyway, they came to an agreement about sleeping together. Then the scholar gestured to the gobetween, handed him two zecchini and said: "Spend this, and take care of everything." Messer Fool departed, bought right and left, and while doing so pinched some small change and sent the foodstuffs by porter to the house of the goddess. PIPPA It seems you'd been there, the way you talk of the porter and his basket. NANNAlkjhWouldn't you know if I'd been there? PIPPA Yes, yes. NANNAlkjhSo then the time came for them to go to bed. As he took off his clothes, the future doctor* after many protestations, added: "Your ladyship is too kind," letting her help remove a thick cloth jacket covered with grease and very heavy due to the two thousand ducats hidden in it, about which you will hear more. PIPPA I'll wait. NANNAlkjhWhen the whore felt her hand drop under the burden of what was sewed in the jacket, she looked like a sneakthief sizing up one of those blockheads who allow their purse to be robbed right from under their pizzle. Then she put the jacket on the [ 246 ]

table and pretended she hadn't noticed a thing, intending to blind him with caresses and kisses, and after she'd gotten into bed with him, shovel into him piles of her most luscious wares. Morning came, the cheater's boy entered the bedchamber with brand-new bows, and the accursed scholar flung his purse at him, which hardly made a sound when it hit the floor, and said: "Go and get some malmsey wine and marchpane cakes." Soon after the wine and cakes arrived, and also fresh eggs, on which they dined, thanks again to the man who had bought dinner. And so they went to bed and got up for five consecutive nights and mornings, and just think—the rascal had spent fifteen crowns at the most. And so he had got both love and friendship without losing his wits. In any event the scholar and born crook shouted: "If I could impregnate your ladyship with a boy I would give him priory, parish, and abbey." And she said: "Sounds marvelous." "Now let's not lose any time," said the screwer, and do you know what he did? He took off his jacket and while holding it in his hand, noticed an iron-bound chest: which was locked diabolically tight. He begged her to put in it the money which for good reason he had wadded and jammed in his coat. She locked it up inside and gave him the key, absolutely sure now that she would be able to steal at least one or two hundred of those ducats. Meanwhile the low, sorry specimen said: "I should like to buy a lady's necklace worth one hundred and fifty pieces of gold. Since I am a stranger here, have them bring me a necklace here today or tomorrow, and I'll buy it immediately." She rushed off posthaste, thinking the gift was for her, and pretending to send for a certain man—in fact a big stud—who brought all sorts of cheap bracelets and chains. But when they couldn't agree, she took off her own necklace, which was heavy with two hundred ducats of rough gold, and sent it soon after to his highness with the help of a fradulent goldsmith. Showing it to him, the impostor kept saying: "What fine gold! Just look at that miraculous handicraft!" and so he swung the deal, settling the purchase price at two hundred and twenty-five ducats. The lady was blissful, thinking to herself: "Not only will the chain be mine, I'll also make a clean twenty-five ducats on the sale." PIPPA I see it and I don't see it. NANNAlkjhThe cunning thief, holding the necklace in his hand,

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praised it as if he meant to sell it again; and while gazing at it and fondling it, he said: "My dear lady, if you will vouch for me, I will give the master craftsman as a pledge that thing I left with you, for I want to show this chain to a friend of mine. Then I will raise the sum I owe for this jewel at the place this letter of credit can be cashed." Thereupon he showed her some scrawl, and made the poor witless woman run to do his bidding. PIPPA Why did she run? NANNAlkjhTo make sure the jacket stuffed with brass ducats didn't leave the chest; in fact she cried: "Take the chain if you wish. For I, thank God, have credit for much more." Then, turning to her confidant, she sent him off with a nod of the head, and the scholar picked up his bundle and quickly left the house. Evening came, and he did not appear; the next morning arrived, and he still did not come around; the whole day passed, and no news of him. She sent for the man with whom he was staying. He shrugged his shoulders and mentioned a couple of sacks stuffed with a dirty shirt and a hat which the scholar had left in the room. When she heard that, she went as white as someone who suddenly realizes that his servant has cleaned him out; and then she had the chest broken open and furiously, using even her teeth, ripped apart the jacket and found that it was packed with the brass florins used to add up accounts, and she didn't hang herself because they stopped her. PIPPA What the devil are the police doing in this world? NANNAlkjhNothing, nothing. Nor is there any justice for us whores and our way of life, and I no longer see the abundance I saw then. Yes, we had a fine world in the old days, and my good godfather Motta gave me a neat comparison. "Nanna," he told me, "today's whores are like today's courtiers, who, if they wish to live in pomp and plenty, are forced to steal; otherwise they'd die of hunger. And for one courtier who has bread in his coffer, there are hordes that scrounge for crusts." But the evil lies in the tastes which have changed the great nobles. May all these she-goats and he-goats be drawn and quartered! For they're the ones that caused it. PIPPA Why is the fire waiting? What, is it a fool? NANNAlkjhThe fire is heating the ovens, making the verjuic bubble around the roasts. And do you know why? [ 248 ]

PIPPA I don't. NANNAlkjhBecause the loutish fire also enjoys it; and so it gives a finer taste to the hindquarters by roasting them than to the forequarters, which it boils. PIPPA Let it burn! NANNAlkjhSomething will come of it, even if we don't have the haft to shove into them and swell their bellies, as do the scurviest louts, underlings, and ruffians. But listen to this tale about a courtier. Oh saintly, sweet, and beloved Venice, you are truly divine, you are truly miraculous, you are kind and gentle. If for nothing else, I would fast for two whole Lents just because you give the title of courtier to gluttons, no-goods, thieves, rascals, and cutpurses, and why do you do it? To enjoy the ribald consequences of their deeds. PIPPA So courtesans are even as great sinners as courtiers? NANNAlkjhgIf they gave us their name, it's in the cards that the also gave us their faces: verbo et opere, as the Confiteo} says. But now let's get to the courtier: a certain Messer Live-in-a-Hole-and-Die on-Straw, a certain Spit-in-the-Corner, a Fellow-Who-Wears-His-CapArsewise, a twisted asshole who walked as though he were being carried, one of the sharpest, handsomest foxes who ever lifted a doorcurtain or carried plates or emptied a chamber pot. His dagger was rigged out with a tassel, his habiliments elegantly draped on him, and in every move and gesture he was a flirt, a chatterbox, and a poltroon. Now, he bragged so much in some poor girl's ear that she got well cooked in the smoke of his gab. He lasted four months by giving her little nothings such as cheap rings, slippers of s'atin and rusty velvet, mauve gloves, veils and coifs, and, once every ten times, a couple of measly capons, a skewer of thrushes, a keg of Corso wine, and all the lousy gifts that air-merchants usually give. And in all that time that he could handle her any way he wished, he spent, at a quick reckoning, not more than twenty scudi. And she, who was as well upholstered as any other wench, was only concerned about Sir Louse's bliss and let all her other customers be pissed away; and waiting only on the courtier, she seemed to grow fat from feeding on his great airs. PIPPA And how did he put on airs? NANNAlkjhHe bragged about his cardinal, the very reverend lord who kept him neck-close twice a day, who wouldn't swallow a mouth[ 249 ]

ful unless he shared it with him, and whom he stuffed with all his secrets. And after he had watered him with due-bills, loans, and I.O.U.s, showing him letters of mark from Spain, France, and Germany, he would start chanting with a voice like a cracked bell: They were golden hairs that rose on the breeze and

If the thread is weaJc, oh.

He always had his satin sack and breast full of madrigals by the hands of poets, whose names he reeled off the way a country priest reels off the holy days. The calendar did not know these madrigals as precisely as I used to; and I learned them due to a certain play, but that's enough of that. . . . It came in handy, and that's all you need know. One man even thought I was a poetess—but enough! PIPPA Teach them to me too. For if I ever should have to do what you did, I'd be able to bring it off. NANNAlkjhYou can have dealings with the names but not the persons. PIPPA Why with the names and not with the persons? NANNAlkjhBecause their coins bear a wooden cross, and they pay with gloria patri. They are, if they'll forgive my bluntness, a cage of madmen. As I told you yesterday, open your door to them, cosset them, sit them down at the head of your table—but never give it to them, if you don't want to be sorry. But to come back to my courtier with his dainty perfume, his coy ways, and his dazed manners—here he is one evening banging on his ladyship's door; and after setting his foot over the sill, he lets loose a Te Deum Laudamus with unparalleled grace; and having negotiated the stairs with the speed of someone bearing good tidings, he kisses the woman who comes to greet him, and while doing so, says: "The devil has finally decided that I can rise out of poverty despite the courts and delays, which they provide for those who serve unfrocked priests." The credulous woman was wholly shaken by his words; and like someone who thought she had leased out the pleasures they'd had together at a percentage, she [ 250 ]

said to him with unusual daring: "What is this good news of yours?" "That rich uncle of mine is dead, and he didn't have any sons or daughters, nor any other nephew but myself." "Oh, good," said the lady, "you're talking of that old miser whom you've mentioned to me so many times." "Yes, that's it," he answered. No sooner had she heard about his coming income than the nasty bitch began flinging sir's at his mug, and he even went so far as to use the informal address, thinking that with such tricks he would get her to swallow the story of his new grandeur. PIPPA You see, the little gluttons. NANNAlkjhThe trick went straight to where the courtier had aimed, and he enchanted her so completely that he sent her soaring above the treetops. This is the kind of gab he crammed her with: "My dear mistress, until now I have not been able to show you with deeds how much I love you, for I was spending my spirit in Monsignor's employ, waiting indeed for him to be kind. Now, by taking to Himself my father's brother, God has wished to show me that He is, I can well say, as merciful as thieves are ungrateful. What I mean to say is that I am the heir of fifty thousand ducats, counting the houses, possessions, silver, and ready cash, and that I have neither father, mother, brother, or sister. Therefore I choose you as my lawful wife, and all this because I want to remunerate you and want to make myself happy." After he said this, the truly worthy priest's servant kissed her, removed a little ring from his finger, and slipped it on hers. Now you can imagine how happy and flushed all this playacting made her, and whether while hugging him she could restrain her tears. She wanted to thank him, but she was so moved she couldn't get the words out. Meanwhile the sly cheat unfolded the letter containing the news—written, of course, in his own ink and by his own hand—sat down, and said: "Here's the paper that sings," and he read the letter from start to finish. PIPPA The devil! NANNAlkjhThe lady, after pulling him on top of her for a quick one, gave him leave to go and gather his things in order to depart with her, as he had sworn. No sooner was he out the door than she opened a casket where there was more than thirty hundred crowns' Worth of jewels, coins, necklaces, and silver basins, while her [ 251 ]

gowns 'and household goods were worth over twelve hundred. And after she had spread out all her wealth, he returned, and she said to him: "My dear husband, this is my property, and I give it all to you not as a dowry but as a sign of my affection." The dirty traitor accepted all these valuable things, put them back in the casket, and locked it himself. The poor crazy woman, who no longer knew what path to take to worm her way into his good graces, told him to keep the key. Then, summoning the Jews, she turned some of her dresses and household goods into gold. With the money from the sale he dressed himself like a knight and at the Campo di Fiore purchased two hackney horses for traveling and, without a word, dressed her like a man and took her away with him. He didn't want to carry with them anything but the jewels and other valuables from the casket. They set out for Naples. PIPPA Plenty of crooks there too. NANNAlkjhAt the first two or three taverns he treated her like a marchesa, and at night held her in his arms and filled her ears with all sorts of guff. Finally deciding to cut her off clean, he poured into her wine some sort of sleeping powder which he'd brought from Rome, and when she was snoring peacefully left her in that tavern bed like the good courtier he was, and robbed her of everything, even her horse, which he gave to a boy whom he happened on as he was leaving. Then he departed as if the plague were pursuing him, going so fast that nobody could tell what direction he'd taken. PIPPA What did the poor woman do when she awoke? NANNAlkjhShe put the whole town in an uproar, ran to the stable, grabbed her nag's halter, and hung herself from the bar of the 'horse trough; and they say that the tavernkeeper stood there watching her so he could inherit her clothes. PIPPA To be foolish has its own punishment. NANNAlkjhOne of these men who think they are offering up a sacrifice when they swindle a whore—as if whores all had to be little Saint Nafissas; and as if they didn't have to pay house rent, buy bread, wine, wood, oil, candles, meat, chickens, eggs, goat cheese, or water, even a place in the sun, and all went naked or, if they dressed, haberdashers gave them bolts of cloth, silks, velvets, and brocades free of charge. And what the devil are they supposed to live on—the Holy [ 252 ]

Ghost? And why must they spread their legs gratis for everyone? Don't soldiers demand their danger money before they go into battle? Don't doctors argue cases in court for the good clink of hard coin? Don't courtiers blackmail their lords if they don't lard them with benefices? Don't grooms get their pay and board and lodging, and that's why they trot beside the stirrup ? So if every job that entails hard work gets its compensation, why should we crawl under some fellow who expects it for almost nothing? Beautiful manners, beautiful talk, beautiful notions—I swear on my oath that this is a hell of a system. And I say that the governor should send out an edict that whoever robs or bilks a whore will be burnt at the stake! PIPPA Maybe they will proclaim it. NANNAlkjhI'm waiting! But I was telling you about one of these women-swindlers who lives at home like a lord, eats in the French style, drinks in the German manner, and flaunts on his sideboard a silver tray and a large, lovely silver goblet—and the tray and goblet stand in the center of four more silver cups, two bonbonnieles, and three salt cellars. This rascal would have died unless he changed his whore every week, and so as to screw without paying he had hit upon the most unheard-of skin game and the most brilliant double-cross that any crook fit for the gibbet and hangman's noose had ever concocted. Now this bastard, although in other ways a quite respectable person, had a crimson satin skirt without a bodice, and when he would bring some lady home to sleep with him, at the end of the meal he would say to her: "Your ladyship has perhaps heard of the first-class trimming such-and-such a whore has given me? By my body and blood, you don't do such things, and anyone who does deserves something sharper than words." Of course there wasn't a drop of truth in all the words he said. But the good woman, believing every word the phony uttered, tried to convince him that she wasn't one of those and swore that she had never promised anything she didn't deliver. The gallant man then clasped her by the hand and said: "Don't swear; I believe you, and I know that you are a rare sort of woman." In the end he called his manservant, who was, my dear daughter, a real son-of-a-bitch, had him take the aforesaid skirt out of the clothes chest; then, rising from the table, he tried it on the lady, giving her to understand that in any event he intended to give [ 253 ]

it to her as a gift. Since the skirt did not have a bodice, it fitted perfectly every whore who tried it on; and so it was also a fine fit for our whore too. Then this screwer-of-all-of-them shouted lustily to his manservant: "Trot off to my tailor and tell him to bring his tape to measure the lady, and to come here immediately, because I'm fed up to the gills with his 'In a moment, in a moment.' " The boy flew instead of trotting, and in less time than it takes to dry out a goat cheese returned with the tailor, who knew all about the skirt hornswoggle, and coming up the stairs with all the panting and heaving of a man who has been running, said, with a tip of his cap: "What does your lordship wish?" PIPPA Now let's hear the hoax. NANNAlkjh"I want you," he replied, "to find enough crimson satin to make a bodice for this skirt," and he pointed to the skirt which the ninny was still wearing. The tailor mumbled out a long spiel: "It will be hard to find such satin; but I want to serve you and I think I can carry it off, since we'll use what's left from the monsignor's chasubles, which he had us make to strangle his sins; and if I can't possibly get that cloth, I shall have the trimmings from the hats of the cardinals to be named in the coming Ember Weeks." "Maestro, I will be your slave if you do it," said the lady in the hope-green skirt with a simper and a look of expectation. "Don't worry," he said, pretending he was taking the dress to his shop, and left. And she stayed behind to feed the flimflam artist on her fleshly fruits, and he kept her at his side as long as he wished by dangling the lure of "Tonight you'll have it; and if not, tomorrow without fail." Then all of a sudden he became angry at her for no reason at all and feigned a great rage. "Quick," he shouted to his servant, "send her home. So that's how it is, eh?" And he locked himself in his room; and even if she croaked "Please excuse me" from now till the end of the world, he wouldn't have listened to her. PIPPA My bucket hasn't drawn the water up yet. NANNAlkjhSend it down to the source, and you'll fill it with the knowledge of how he would have the skirt tried on, and would bring the aforesaid tailor to his house for all the whores he enticed there, and after having fed deliciously on their flesh, both roasted and boiled, he would purposely fly into a rage and send them off without [ 254 ]

even paying. He felt that he had done more than enough by paying them with hopes of the dress, which he promised to all and gave to none. PIPPA What a bastard! NANNAlkjjhYes indeed, a bastard whose progeny we can do without. I'm only picking up scraps of gossip here and there, because the crockeries of these spit-out-hells and gobble-down-heavens are such that necromancy itself, which discovers ghosts, could not uncover all of them. Oh, what dangerous beasts, with honey in their mouths and razors up their sleeves. We whores, even if we are sly, vicious, close-fisted, thieving, and faithless, never leave the straight path of whoring; and whoever keeps a sharp eye on our hands can follow us better than seasoned men follow the tricks of those who juggle with glasses and balls of cork. Besides, we have an excuse: we are stingy out of a love of the humiliation inherent in our nature. We still think that we might die of hunger, and so we steal, wheedle, try everything. Every trifle suits us, and ants don't store up as diligently as we do; yet we draw a blank ninety-nine times out of a hundred. But men, who perform miracles with their virtues and become a bit of what they claim to be, that is, "illustrious" and "most illustrious," "reverends" and "right reverends," are such shams that they are not ashamed to loot our rooms of books, mirrors, combs, towels, small vases, a ball of soap, a pair of scissors, two inches of ribbon, and anything else that happens to cling to their fingers. PIPPA Are you telling the truth ? NANNAlkjhThe absolute truth. And what could be more disgraceful than getting hold of some poor whore who has only the wealth of the turtle, which wears all its possessions on its back, and after having worn down the lip of her well and the deep cistern below, pays her with a phony diamond, four counterfeit julios, and a cheap brass necklace? And the result—they boast of it, hoping to be made standard bearers in Jerusalem. How cruel it is to hear one of these men mount the rostrum and blow off about our trade, finding things in it that were never born nor made. They say, for example: "Two days ago I had my turn with so-and-so, you know who I mean. What a trollop! What a sad slut! She has a behind sharper than a goose, breath like a corpse, sweating feet, a belly like a bag, a bog in front

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and so deep a ravine behind that it would turn the worst lecher chaste in a minute." Then they jump to another whore, saying: "What a crude slattern! What a cow, what a thief, what a witch! She wants to stuff all and everything in her ring. When she's underneath you she wriggles and writhes in the most frightful fashion, and when you pull it out she licks it, fondles it, and cleans it off in ways one has never thought of or seen." And the more people these windbags see gather round, the louder they talk: "Farter!" "Monks' bait!" "Wagass!" And when we pull a mocking face at them going down our stairs, they forget the completely silly mugs they make at me going down theirs. And why must we be betrayed and murdered by their boundless scandal-mongering? And when we happen to say by chance: "He's a miser and an ingrate," or, truly inflamed and for good reason, we shout: "He's a traitor," it does not go any further and ends right there. And if we pilfer some little item from them, it is only to get our just pay, for even the greatest treasure on earth could not pay us back for the respectability they've stolen from us. PIPPA You frighten me with their wickedness. NANNAlkjhI frighten you so that you can frighten them with the wisdom I have taught you. And anyone who compares the artifices, lies, complaints, oaths, promises, and curses they use as an armored vest to defeat us, to the duplicities, flatteries, tears, pleadings, promises of loyalty, and maledictions which we use against them, would realize who is the better deceiver. A gentleman (may all gentility get the plague!), a Piedmontese or Savoyard, if I'm not wrong, with a face like a lantern, had gambled and won a beautiful walnut bedstead trimmed in gold. And whenever he entered into negotiations with a lady of pleasure, he kept harping on his blessed bedstead; and after praising it and estimating its worth at fifty ducats, he would offer it to her and using this as the lure would succeed in sleeping with her. Giving her the bedstead as her reward, he would enjoy her ten nights in a row; and after having taken his pleasure at his leisure and in his own good time, he would turn into one of those runty rascals who wants to acquire a reputation as a valorous warrior and do so by battling even with the flies on the ceiling. As I say, he would berate her even for the way she sliced the bread, using every means to break with her; and when he finally got his chance, he would stand up and [ 256 ]

scream: "Garbage! Filth! Give me back my bed. If you don't, I'll make you the most unhappy whore in town! Give it to me, hand it over!" Then he would unsheath a knife which could have drawn streams of blood from a thousand sheep and stun her so much that she felt she had gained thirty soldi to a lira if she heard no more about it and let him pull out the nails and carry the bed elsewhere. PIPPA A fine thing—giving and taking it back like children. NANNAlkjhHe gave the bed to about sixty different women and took it back in the manner I've described, and he could never shake off his repute as "the gentleman with the bed"; and all the whores point him out just as they do the man with the skirt without a bodice. He couldn't buy a kiss from the crummiest whore on Sisto Bridge, even if she thought she'd lose the fame of her infamy by doing it. PIPPA Still I'd like to know them. NANNAlkjhghYou can like what you wish; but I'm telling you t just the title of gentleman combined with a good look at his face would put me off, and I'm the teacher; but maybe it's different for you, the pupil. PIPPA That's possible. NANNAlkjhNow I'm going to tell you a fine tale, but it wasn't that for the poor whore who bore the brunt. Beyond Piazza del Popolo lived Madame-I-Won't-Say-Who, a beautiful piece of female flesh, tall, pretty, and as soft as butter; and if whores can be goodnatured, she was one of those: jolly, amusing, joking with everyone, treating one and all with that lovely grace which one has from the cradle or not at all. She was invited to dine at a vineyard outside town and eat Roman pastries, and they didn't think much of her because she pissed all over herself at being favored by people who seemed high class, as she thought they were. So about four in the afternoon they took her on the back of a mule to that damned vineyard. The dinner went forward merrily with goats' feet, milk-calf, cow beef, partridges, squabs, and all the fruits in season, but it had a bad ending for that much-too-submissive lady. PIPPA What did they do? Cut her into pieces? NANNAlkjhNo, not in pieces, just in quarters, as you shall hear. It was at the first stroke of the Ave Maria that she asked those gentlemen with whom she had dined to let her leave, for she had to go to

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sleep with the man who kept her. Then the drunks, fools, and scoundrels gave their answer via a farting clown, who said: "My Lady, this night is owed to us and our stable boys, and we want you to be happy at doubling the simple thirty-one; and so, thanks to you, they will in future be called the arch thirty-one, and therefore there will be as great a difference between them as there is between bishops and archbishops; and if you are not treated as you deserve, yqu can blame it on the place." The scribe said nothing more but grabbed his lute and strolled off, singing: The young widow when she sleeps alone, Laments to herself: Of me she h,as no right to moan.

On hearing those words, the victim of her own good nature and others' wickedness looked like me when at dawn in the forest of Montefiascone my shoulder collided with the chest of a hanged man, and she was overwhelmed by such a feeling of grief that she could not utter a single word. Then the dirty swine pulled her to the stump of a chopped-down almond tree; and propping her head against it, he flung her underclothes over her head, and after plunging his stake wherever he wished, thanked her for her services with two of the most painful thwacks that ever stung a beautiful bottom. And this was the signal for the second bully, who turned her over on the stump and did it to her the right way up, and got great delight from the jagged pieces of the badly trimmed stump that pricked her ass so that, despite herself, she rose up to meet him. And when he finally discharged his load, he made her take an ape-like tumble; and her yells brought the third jouster at the run. But the joy he derived from shoving it into and pulling it out of every hole and aperture were mere gentilities compared to the slaughter that started when a herd of flunkies, undercooks, and hostlers rushed out of the vineyard house with the growl that famished hunting dogs make when they're let off the leash and pounce on the food like monks hurl themselves on a plate of broth. My dear daughter, I would make you weep if I gave you a detailed account of all the screwings they gave her, of how they pissed all over her, of the many ways she was taken by this man or

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that, and of all the contortions and groans they forced out of the miserable woman. But you can be sure that they pounded at her all through that blessed night. Then, having grown tired of humiliating her at every entrance, they adorned her with fig leaves and gave her a thief's flogging with willow switches, while one of the louts read out in a loud voice the sentence handed down by the criminal tribunal, chanting a list of her thefts, sorceries, swindles, sodomies, whorings, lies, cruelties, and lewdnesses, charging every sin in the book to her account. PIPPA I'm shocked. NANNAlkjhMorning came, and they began by giving her a bucketful of whistles and shouts, then wound up by kicking and slapping her with more of a racket than peasants make at seeing a fox or wolf. And she, more dead than alive, begged and pleaded with the sweetest, most pitiful words to leave her in peace. Her eyes blood red, her cheeks swollen, her hair disheveled, her lips dry and cracked, her clothes torn to shreds, she looked like one of those nuns cursed by both mother and father who were trampled under the Germans-' feet as they marched into Rome. PIPPA Oh, I pity her. NANNAlkjhIt ended even worse than it began. For they sent her home at the hour of the afternoon promenade on Via dei Banchi seated on a pack horse that looked like those old plugs that carry gardeners to the grain market. And you can be sure that no flogged thief ever felt as distressed and humiliated as she did; she eventually died of sorrow and hardships. So, if men play such pranks on a woman who tries to serve them, you can imagine what they do to a woman who doesn't. PIPPA Men, eh? NANNA;lkjA captain, dashing, famous, great, and to tell the truth, vicious, came to Rome to get his danger money. He wanted to have at his side morning and night a courtesan, not too pretty but with a good enough figure to bear staying with her—well-dressed, a neat housekeeper, all spice and good sauce. And although she was losing plenty of steady customers due to this man, whom she never left for a moment day or night, she didn't care, thinking to herself: "I'm earning more with this man than I'm losing with the others." [ 259 ]

Now it happened that the captain had to depart the following day at an early hour; the nitwit thought she heard his lordship, who was fondling her hand, say to his friend, whispering in his ear: "Give her a hundred crowns"; but he had actually-told him to tie her clothes over her head and, lighting her path with two burning torches, flog her with two winter boots through Borgo Vecchio and Nuovo and over the bridge as far as the Chiavica sewer. And that's how they grabbed her and with a taffeta belt tied the hem of her skirt around her head. Her ass looked round and white as the full moon! Oh how firm it was! and how beautifully shaped! Not too fat or too thin, too big or too small, it was supported by two thighs set above a pair of straight tapered legs, prettier than two columns of that soft white alabaster which they turn on a lathe in Florence, and the veins which streak the stone I refer to could be seen running along her lovely thighs and all the way down her dainty legs. And while from inside her clothes she yelled with the muffled voice of a man locked in a chest, the torches having been lit and the boots all ready, the servants summoned to beat her were so astounded by the beauty of that ass that they were overwhelmed by vertigo, let the boots fall out of their hands, and stood there spellbound. But they were roused by a fusillade of mint-new blows, regained control of themselves, and leading her out the gate, began beating her so much and so long that her ass got red, then purple, then black, and finally the blood began to spurt. And hearing the boots tuff-touf-tuff,lkjhgthe scum and the not-scum began giving voice to the same sort of groans and sobs that kids do when the public executioner does his duty and flogs some gluttonous thief. And then the wretched woman was led back to her house, where she remained for a long time, vituperated and despised by all who heard of the prank they'd played on her. PIPPA Oh daggers, why are you dallying? Oh swords, why are you wasting time? NANNAlkjhI don't know where we get this evil reputation of swindling and slandering men; and I am amazed that nobody ever describes how they in their turn treat whores, because all women who become infatuated with them are whores. But if you set on one side all the men ruined by whores, and on the other side all the whores [ 260 ]

shattered by men, you will see who bears the greater blame, we or they. I could tell of tens, dozens, scores of whores who ended up under carts, in hospitals, kitchens, on the streets, or sleeping under counters in the fairs; and just as many who went back to slaving as laundresses, landladies, bawds, beggars, bread-vendors, and candlepeddlers, thanks to having always whored for this man or that; but nobody will ever show me a man who, due to the whores, became an innkeeper, coachman, horse-currier, lackey, quack, cop, middleman, or mendicant bum. At least a whore knows how to live for some time on what she receives for her labors from men, but these jackasses squander in a day what they steal from us and what flighty fools lavish on them. PIPPA I'm sorry I ever had the desire, and many a time I had it, to be a man. NANNAlkjhThere is another infamy which they wrongfully saddle us with. PIPPA Which is? NANNAlkjhThe guilt they tag us with when any of the men who are on our tails happens to get wounded or killed. What the devil have we to do with their jealousies and brutalities? And even if we might well be the cause of these scandals, just tell me which are more numerous: the scars you can see on the faces of whores who must obey men's orders, or the cuts which appear on the faces of men who enjoy whores? Alas, the world is not going the way it should. PIPPA Certainly not. NANNAlkjhAnd now we come to the French disease. I absolutely burn up when I hear some fat rat say: "That man is crippled, thanks to a certain woman's twat"; and they draw, quarter, and crucify another poor whore with their curses, saying: "She has wrecked the poor man." I have the hope, after they've discovered what was born first, the chicken or the egg, that they will also discover whether whores gave the French disease to men, or men gave it to whores. Some day we'll have to put the question to Saint Job; otherwise it will only lead to a a terrible ruckus. For man was the first to incite and tease the whore, who was keeping quiet and calm, and it wasn't the whore who incited the man. And this is proven every day by all the messages, letters, and [ 261 ]

ambassadors they send us. Why, even the old drabs on SDisto Bridge are ashamed to run after clients; and so if men were the first to ask for our services, they're also the first to give it to us. PIPPA You've wiped out the stain in every sense. NANNAlkjhgLet's get back to the tales that could be told of t betrayals they plague us with. A certain great lady's chambermaid, the gentlest, sweetest little thing one could ever see in our day, was working for her lady, who got no greater pleasure than from watching her wander about, so dear were her little ways and so neat was her deportment. When she gave her to drink or dressed and undressed her, she did it so gracefully that people fell in love with her, though she provoked the envy of the other slothful chambermaids. Now a certain beggarly count laid eyes on her; he bore his entire fortune in the embroidery of his doublet, the trimmings on his cap, the galloons on his cape, and the sheath of his sword. As I say, this count got a lech for her, and since he was a frequent visitor at court, he spoke to her often and even danced with her; and he spoke and danced so much that the tinder finally took flame. When he saw that, the worthless count commissioned a sonnet to be written in her praise and sent it to her enfolded in a little note bursting with his sighs, his torments, his fires and furnaces. He exalted the young girl's beauty in his fulsome and blustery style and described her hair, her face, her mouth, hands, and figure as if they were things from another world. And she, who had as much good sense as a crayfish out of the moon, was absolutely blissful, imagining herself because of this to be Orlando di Mountauban's Angelica. PIPPA You mean Rinaldo. NANNAlkjhI say Orlando. PIPPA You're wrong, because Orlando came from another country. NANNAlkjhIf he did, so much the worse for him. As for myself, I have been studying all my life how to scrape and save money, not legends and erudite arguments, and you know what—Orlando can kiss my ass! I just mentioned Angelica and that other person because I heard their story in a song sung by a street boy who goes past my door every night at ten o'clock. In any case, the damsel, who knew how to read, fell in love with herself while reading this scribble as

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false as the fellow who sent it. And such being the case, the more the poor simp saw him and received his scribbles, the more blissful she was.' Sometimes he would come to court and, leaning against a wall in a corner, pull at his handkerchief with his teeth, then toss it up in the air, catching it in his hand with a distasteful gesture; and just as fate was making an anatomy of his liver, he threatened the heavens with forked fingers. Sometimes he would dance with another girl, sighing all the while; and his page was always skipping about, livried in multicolored garb, with which she had favored him. But that she-traitor Fortune was not satisfied until she had led them by a strange path to deceive each other. So when she was all enveloped in promises of love and of the world he would offer her, she took a length of rope he had given her and, dangling it down from her window, slid from her window to the roof of a balcony which was attached to the rear of the palace. And since the rope's end was quite a distance from the ground, when she let herself fall she almost broke a leg. No sooner h/id she arrived than the worthless count, the phony count, the slob count had her put up behind him on his horse's rump by a valet who, mounting his own horse, followed his master, who was galloping away with his captured prey. PIPPA I would have fallen, sitting on a galloping horse's rump. NANNAlkjhShe was as adept as one of those boys who ride Barbary horses at the fair and rode her mount better than a cavalryman. And so she left with that bastard, who changed roads often to be safe from whoever might try to pursue him. The end of the story was that in twenty-two days she began to bore him; and one evening for two little words said in reply to his valet who was cleaning up, she received the hoped-for and promised reward, that is, a shower of kicks and slaps; and eight days later he left her high and dry in the petticoat of worn yellow satin trimmed with thin green silk and the bedchamber coif she wore when she had left. And so this young girl, whose mistress would have married her off to some rich and worthy man, gave herself to a gang of young louts, all of whom took her in turn; but when she began to blossom with the boils the Count had bequeathed her, she could no longer find a cat or dog that would even sniff at her; and only the whorehouse had pity on her. PIPPA May it be blessed! [ 263 ]

NANNAlkjhPeople who saw her in the brothel said that its other inhabitants were astonished to hear her speak, and that air of seemliness which she had brought from the court in which she had been raised gave the brothel the atmosphere of a convent. There is no doubt that the seemliness which garbs a whore gleams forth in the middle of a brothel with more splendor than a priest clad in holy robes presiding at the nuptials of his first mass. PIPPA If seemliness is beautiful among whores, what must it be for virgins? NANNAlkjhA goddess of goddesses, a sun of suns, and a miracle of miracles. PIPPA Good seemliness, saintly seemliness. NANNAlkjhNow hear of the cruelty of a Mantuan man, who, because of his abilities, was famous many, many miles past the gates of Calcutta! I just plucked it out of the pot, so it's piping hot. One day this famous man I refer to unfortunately saw a young girl of seventeen, leaning with her entire left side out of the window of a cottage which her mother rented. Her lovely grace made her more beautiful than the six most beautiful girls in Italy. She had eyes and hair so bright and blond that they could have consumed and captivated the hearts of any creatures whatsoever, not to speak of men of flesh and blood. The harmonious charm of her movements murdered whoever saw them, nor could one estimate how much enchantment was given her by that sweetness which was part and parcel of her composition. Poverty, which dressed her in lion-colored twill (I think), also fringed with twill but yellow twill, put the poor girl's figure on better show than frills on frills and cloth of silk and gold trimmed with pearls when worn by queens. It is quite true that the shape of her limbs, owing to the hardships she had undergone, not eating, drinking, or sleeping enough, could not flaunt their true perfection; but what made her shine most splendidly was the sweet decorum she always maintained, whether leaning out the window or loitering at the door. All these qualities of hers made our friend fall in love; in fact he went stark crazy (may his lordship forgive the expression), and when he couldn't stand it any longer, he set about procuring a go-between. Soon after, without too much trouble, he engaged a bawd thanks to the fame of his name and the [ 264 ]

good graces of his haughty attire, which he changed every day. (These changes are the bait which entrap silly girls.) So you're curious, eh, you want to know who? Well, he.had a long discussion with a certain Lucia, the friend of Angela (for that was the good girl's name); and of course he buttered her up too, because he knew his way around. He kissed her, held her hand, deluged her with promises, and to make doubly certain that she was his, gave her his word that he would stand as godfather to the only child she had. At that her petticoat no longer touched her ass. And she was so stunned by her godfather's promises that in two little chats he took into camp the little sister of the woman who broke her neck; and just as soon as she was converted, the match was made as easily as one sighs. PIPPA I'm sure that no man would have caught me so soon. NANNAlkjhCaught you, eh? Saint Petronilla herself could not stand firm against the hammering insistence of a sister, when she fills your fist not only with the bliss and happiness to come but also with hard cash. And what woman wouldn't lift her skirts after being told: "He is the dearest, most pleasant, most handsome and generous man that ever lived. He loves and adores you, and he has told me that one of your tresses or one of your eyes is worth more than all the •world's treasures. And he swears that as soon as he is sure that you do not love him, he will become a hermit monk." PIPPA And she believed it? NANNAlkjhI pray to God that you never have your flanks roweled by the spurs of these bawds, for then you'll see whether girls believe them or not. Sisters, eh? Neighbors, ha? The hope of getting rich, the great grandeur of men? They're all bitches! PIPPA Tell me, before you go on: has anyone ever become a monk because of love for us whores? NANNAlkjhMay the sharp end of misfortune pierce them! They hang themselves with words, poison themselves with sacraments, and laugh at those who think they're really weeping. They make a show of wanting to kill themselves with a dagger, hint at jumping from the top of a roof, of throwing themselves into the river, pretend that they're going far away and that we shall never hear of them again; and you should see them kneeling at the feet of those ninnies, the rope around their necks and weeping tears that drown in sobs.

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Oh you lechers, how clever you are at banging your heads against the wall so as to make us believe whatever you wish. PIPPA If that's how it is, you've got to keep your eyes open! NANNAlkjhBut let's get back to the match that was made. As I say, the dove was taken out of her nest and brought to the house of a pretty and courteous midwife in the employ of the valiant Cesto and she set in the palm of the sister's hand, with the solemn oath that the whole affair would be kept a secret. PIPPA And was it kept secret ? NANNAlkjhIf it was kept secret, how did I come to know about it? The trumpeters, bell-ringers, street singers, peddlers in the market, lottery sellers, chanters at vespers, ballad-singers, and fairgoers are all more secretive than he was. To every cretin he came across he would say: "Don't bend my ear. I'm in paradise. A young girl composed of milk and blood has got it bad for me; and the first thing tomorrow morning our marriage will be consummated, for at that hour her mother goes to Mass at San Lorenzo outside the walls." But todo is nada, as the Spaniard says, when compared with the Deum Laudemus he sang when she laced her arms around his neck; and he was angry at himself for shivering as a bull does when he catches sight of a heifer. PIPPA Why did that shiver bother him? NANNAlkjhIt interrupted him so that he could not get out a word of -all those lies and promises he wanted to cover her with; and the addled girl fondled his brocade doublet, his cloak trimmed with massive gold, and his breeches of silver cloth, and handled his great neck-chain like some hick who comes from those wild places where they have scarcely seen mantles of gray wool or vests of coarse undyed woolen cloth: he pushes his way through the jostling crowd to the Domine who is handing out the candles, and paws and rubs his dirty hand on the soft cloth of the velvet cope the Domine is wearing. And that's how it went: she, after playing with his adornments, lay down as the man desired her and consented supinely to temptation several times, so that finally the flames of passion began to flare up inside of both of them. And it seemed to this girl without a vice in the world that having the love of so great a personage, she was worth more than seven hundred, not just six. But the profit she got [ 266 ]

from her goodness was the devil who seized her lover's whims by the forelock, for he wasn't content with having three parts of four but wanted it all, and so made a prophet of the proverb which says: "He who wants all loses all." PIPPA Serves him right. NANNAlkjhSince he said it served him right, you can say it too. Well, to tell it all, this is how that girl acquired a husband: a big lout who had already fallen for a sister of hers had chosen her for a wife instead and gotten engaged with the idea of delaying as long as possible befdre giving her the ring and taking her home as his wife. The rumor was soon out that he would not marry her unless she let him have a trial trip, as is the custom nowadays. And I could tell you of many, many girls who lost their cherries to lovers in the same fashion; and once their lovers had their fill and more, they left them in the lurch without even giving them a crust of bread. But this affair came to a curious close, for the lover who was panting for her, thinking he could master her completely, hit on a trick whose silliness would have made a Milanese or Mantuan blush with shame. PIPPA Good! NANNAlkjhThe silly idea was that he was determined to muddy the nuptial fount, wanting to arrange matters so that the future husband, discovering that his betrothed was half whore, half virtuous, would throw her over; and so it would have gone if her husband's love was not greater than her lover's—not that she preferred the husband, for if she had she would not have given him horns, but fear of a beating from her mother made her jump in his direction. And so fretting and fuming an entire night over his plan, the lover sent for the miserable new bridegroom and told him the whole story. To make certain that he could touch with his hand the truth of what he said, he told him everything about her right down to the smallest hair, the least little wen, and the one birthmark she bore under her clothes in a secret spot; and gradually he told every word, every quarrel, and every reconciliation which the two of them had had. Then he got to the gifts he had given her, listing them one by one. So the suffering man died standing up, and stretching his neck, he looked like our monkey when it twists its face into ugly shapes. He turned [ 267 ]

to stone, and he began to daydream, speaking aimlessly—"Ah? Eh?" —and saying yes for no and no for yes. His eyes started to bug out and roll whitely in his head; he sighed deeply and let his chin fall on his chest, while his lips seemed to be glued together. In the end, shivering from the chill of jealousy, he managed to get out a few words, and with one of those horrible leers that a man being led to the gallows puts on to look courageous, said: "Sir, I too, young as I am, have had my share of her; but I swear to you by the baptism I have on my head (and lifting his hand, he lay it on the crest of his hair) that I do not want her. She is not my wife, and whoever says so lies in his throat." Then, the lover, feeling very jolly, told him: "You are the kind of man who isn't found so often these days, and the honor you value is worth more than a whole citadel, nor will you lack for wives: leave it to me." PIPPA Do you think the poor fellow swallowed it? NANNA;lkjBecause of the sudden fit of anger caused by his prospective wife's misconduct, he put on a show of postiche merriment and said: "I intend to behave like a wise old man," and then he was wafted away, not even realizing that his feet were carrying him, to the house of the girl who had fashioned the twisted horns for him; and as you can imagine, he said to her all the things which someone in his position would say. But the tears of the murdered girl, her cries and protests suddenly confused him; and, after giving her some fresh eggs, he tried to comfort her. But she flung herself on her bed and it seemed she wanted to kill herself. And since the gentleman had said that he had slept with her before him and since the poor cuckold believed it, her mother turned on him with a shriek: "So, you didn't know whether you had a virgin or not, eh?" That shut him up, for he did not know how easy it would be to contract her cunt and make it bleed. PIPPA Oh, you told me all about that. NANNA;lkjAnd I won't say another word. Anyway, the thriceblessed fool, seeing that he had noblemen for rivals, not only didn't refuse the girl but took her home with him. They celebrated a little wedding there and then, and he fucked her so many times that he [ 268 ]

almost passed out on top of her. Then he sold a few rags and had a new suit made for himself, so that she would love him as much as he loved her. PIPPA So telling it all to the husband, which made him take her, was for his own good. NANNA;lkjThese things don't last. Most times, indeed almost always, these marriages to women chosen for love's sake and without a dowry end up badly. For the love of a man who rushes to take a wife because of amorous fury is like a fire that scorches a chimney, making enough noise to terrorize the Tiber, and then lets itself be put out by a few pots of boiling water and wood ash. And finally never having an hour of peace is the least of the misfortunes she will suffer: scoldings, fists in the face, kicks, and cudgelings in great number will be her lot. These wives are locked in their rooms, confined to the house, nor are they even thought worthy to go to confession—and woe to their backsides if they are caught leaning out the window. And if they have such a life when they're not playing fast and loose, what do you think will happen to the woman whose husband is sure she is whoring? PIPPA It must be worse than terrible. NANNA;lkjNow I'm thinking of the fancy fictions that men use as their bawds when they want to betray credulous women. It's all talk when women say that we know how to dissemble divinely. There he is, propped against the altar of a church, the woman-hoaxer; but just look at him, letting his whole body bend in a bow toward the woman he has been staring at; I can already hear the sighs he draws from his cupboard of deceptions. He is there alone, just so he'll look secretive, and the only thing he's waiting for is to make the silly woman look at him. As he gazes longingly at her he lets his head loll back and, staring up at the heavens, it seems that he is saying: "O Lord, I am dying because of this woman who has issued from your miraculous hand." Then looking straight behind him he turns to her again, and you will see such soulful expressions flit over his face, such piercing looks, all plucked deftly from their traitorous warehouse. Just then a poor beggar appears. He tells his valet: "Give him a julio," and the valet hands it over. [ 269 ]

PIPPA Why not a penny? NANNA;lkjSo he may seem very generous and prove he has lots of money. PIPPA Imagine! NANNAlkjhAnd when these men are within earshot of the woman with whom they are flirting in order to trap them, they never boss their servants around, using the loud voice or haughty expression they do at home, but speak to them with that gentleness and care which they adopt when speaking to their equals; and they do all this to gain the reputation of courteous creatures instead of frightening boors. PIPPA The dogs! NANNA;lkjAnd they will pay out gold to be greeted by some passer-by and have him tip his hat. PIPPA What good is that hat-tipping to them? NANNAlkjhIt gives them credit with the goddess, who sees them highly regarded; and as they are bowing to the company, they carve on their faces with the chisel of deception a look which says they prefer her above everyone. PIPPA They're pastmasters. NANNA;lkjWhen they start talking with some woman in the presence of the other woman on whom their hopes of pleasure are set, they chatter away with the grace and charm which a person parades when he wants to win us over completely. Then in the very thick of their talk they stand up and go sauntering through the hall, giving the woman all the time in the world to discuss his good-heartedness with the object of his trickery. PIPPA Go and get yourself born a woman, go. NANNA;lkjHaving left what they feel is their paradise, they say to whoever is waiting for them: "What nasty bawds! What devilraisers! Do you think they'll do their tricks for a song and a whistle?" And when they happen to be talking about the ladies with other men, they immediately open their big mouths and say: "This morning I had the greatest amusement at Mass. Such-and-such a woman was there, praying, and I acted as though I were in love with her. What a cow! what a whore! What I intend to do is extract from her hand [ 270 ]

those few coins she has, and then proclaim the deed through all the piazzas." PIPPA Lovely! NANNA;lkjAt least when a whore slanders this man or that, she has some excuse: she does it to ingratiate herself with some other man; but who gains from the gossip of a man who slanders a poor whore before a company of men? PIPPA The leg they should break gains from it. NANNAlkjhSo be wise if you want to catch them without being caught. And to help you along, munch on this little tale. A certain man I'd like to tell you about got the rumor going that he would like to find a young girl of about eighteen, at the most twenty, so he could teach her to enjoy with him perfect bliss, which the King of Sterlick had put in his possession; and if she were one of those girls who besides being pretty also had good sense, he would do that thing for her—but that's all he said, hinting of course that after some time had passed he would even marry her. As soon as the story got around, the bawds began circulating, knocking at the door of this girl and that; they could barely describe the good luck in store for them, since they were so winded from walking so fast. So each girl was overjoyed, thinking that she was the one the signer desired, and stole, borrowed, or rented at so much a day a dress, a ruffed collar, and the usual fripperies women use to adorn themselves, and all decent and respectable, trotted before their go-betweens. They would appear at his lordship's and, after making a reverential bow, sit down and gaze tenderly at him, while he would be titivating his beard with an ivory comb, standing bold and brave on his legs, jesting with his valet, who was putting the finishing touches with a hand brush to his doublet, breeches, and velvet buskins. When he was ail togged out, he gave the valet a playful pat so that the trull who had come there to become his bride might think from the way he played with his servant that his nature was sweet and pleasant. PIPPA Now we're getting to our affairs. NANNA;lkjWhen he'd finally finished all this byplay, he sent them all out, except for the old hag and the girl who thought she was going to swallow down the swindler. Then, sitting between them, he [ 271 ]

began pouring out his heart: how he liked her looks but didn't want some bad-tempered or flighty girl who after two days would start saying: "I want to go, and I wouldn't stay here even if they paid me." When she heard this, the old woman stood up and said: "My dear sir, this girl is soft as cut grass and a fish without bones, and her good juicy qualities crumble in the mouth of him who tastes her. If you take her, the other men who are on the lookout -for good and beautiful women will have to go back to pushing a rake. And if you don't believe me, you can ask any of her neighbors, who all began weeping and wailing when they heard she was leaving. She is the parchment of the distaff and the distaff of the parchment, the spindle of the whorl and the whorl of the spindle. I tell you that she is the covering cloth and soft towel that hang beside the tub, in which are laid the knives, slices of bread, and morsels left over from the table, and which people also wipe their hands with." PIPPA Ah, pungent, sweet-tongued old woman, you really knew how to sing her praises. NANNAlkjhSo spake the old mother. Meanwhile he was probing with his fingertips between her pointed little tits and, with a snicker that smacked of a leer, said: "Are you sound in body? Have you the rash, itch, or any other defect?" The old woman answered for her: "Touch her, go ahead and undress her, if you wish. You're talking about rashes, defects? Not a bit of it. She is sound as a mullet, and her flesh is more hostile to ugliness than she is to hired killers. And I swear that a pair of compasses can measure all her secret parts and glories, and she will fit you as neatly as a tripod fits a pot of boiling millet. And you can be sure that I am not smoothing you down with blandishments and caresses so you'll take her, or in order to pluck some trifle in passing: certainly my glasses are not right from the sink, and I can walk on paving stones or roof tiles in my bare feet." PIPPA What a gift of gab! NANNA;lkjhShe talked with the language of her town; and if you want to know the truth, listening to her one heard one of those old wives from bygone times who talked gracefully and properly. PIPPA You do too. NANNA;lkjYou'll see that people will return to the old way of talking, for even the old way of dressing has returned. And they can [ 272 ]

all be as obstinate and unyielding as they wish, but narrow sleeves have pushed out puffed ones and pumps are no longer as high as stilts; and the looms of the spellbinders no longer warp and weave their wild ramblings, because these are all pedantries, the fruitless blossoms of unseasoned plum trees, and they deserve to be put in a trough for swine to swill. What a display of trifles, what moths, what a spouting of unfit metaphors are blabbed in their new lingo! But let's get on with it. The lord had by then manhandled her most secret flesh; then, turning to the old woman, he said: "My dear mother, if you don't mind I want you to leave the girl here with my sister." He said this in a loud voice so that his sister in her hidden corner would hear him. She came immediately, grabbed the bawd by the hand, and got her out of the room, prevailing upon her to leave the girl. And the old woman, assured by all that gab, went off; and so the ninny fed the famished stallion on her body, left with a belly full of we'11-do-fines, and went back to where she came from. PIPPA And he didn't even pay her, the bastard! NANNA;lkjYou know, Pippa, what that house of the betrayed woman soon resembled after the word got out of the great fortune to be made there, which he dangled before the eyes of every woman who wanted to sleep with him? PIPPA What? NANNA;lkjPiazza Navona when it is crowded with old brokendown nags up for sale, tethered there with their braided tails, their manes set flowing, carefully currycombed, with perfect polished saddles, and furbished bridles, freshly shod, all set to go through their paces, walking, trotting, and galloping as best they can. In the same way, the poor creatures, brisked up with more than usual care, all prinked out in a borrowed finery, went through their paces in and out of bed with the man whom they hoped to live with. But what was the result? I'll tell you. Loaded with the most malignant French chancres that ever afflicted a great nobleman, he thrust his poker into the caves of all of these women; his murderous broom swept out all their ovens; and giving them a slip-knot tassel which, I hope, will hang him, after one, two, three, or four days he got rid of them with: "This woman is too bold, this one is badly bred, this one has a poor figure, this other is too lanky"; another had a breath that stank, and still another lacked [ 273 ]

grace. But nasty scars were left on their bodies, for as I said, to all of them he gave a share of his sores, boils, and pains by way of payment. And it was such a sophisticated form of the malady that it stripped away the skin from the eyebrows, the mound of Venus, the armpits, and the head better than boiling water flenses the skin from a capon, and left that wandering horde without a tooth in their mouths. Well, tell me now, are men men or what ? PIPPA It seems to me that they are a broken neck which one puts in a catapult and hurls into a burning house. That one might make lanterns from their skin, awls out of their legs, and whips of their arms. I'm talking about those who do these terrible things, not those who don't. NANNA;lkjYou speak well; but by telling you the loutish deeds of these louts, I have only tickled your gullet with egg white. But wait, for now I'm going to give you the yolk; and I hope all that I say clings to your brain's hooks. Propping the swaying of the door of my memory so that it stays open, I will tell you all right down to a petticoat and the eyehole of a skirt, which I have stripped off in order to show you the truth naked as it was born. PIPPA I'm waiting. NANNA;lkjI am fishing about with my fantasy for the way of talking which I neglected when I changed towns, and I feel a great sorrow at having forgotten almost all the most solid words of our Tuscan speech. That old woman, who spoke just before to Signor Measly, the favorite of the Duke of Sterlick, or the "king," as he calls himself, has given me the desire to clean up this language, spitting out words in our old way. And please don't think me boring if I keep going in and out of this business of how to talk, because one can hardly endure the way these fops are always mocking us. And although I've told you that I got more pleasure out of stowing away cash than hoarding lovely expressions, I would really startle you if I decided to speak to you in a scraping and bowing manner. I know that in several spots I have used foppish, dainty words, above all in the laments of the lady abandoned by the baron; some of them I know, some I picked up, but not from those who can't tell the difference between "tow" and "hemp," between a "boiled chestnut" and a "chestnut in its husk," and whether the "osier" is a rush, what a "lock" on a door is, the [ 274 ]

"outer crust" of a loaf of bread, the "bung" of a hogshead, a "skein" of flax, a "pannier" of cherries, a "cruet" of oil, "braids" for pillow cases, the "pruning hook" for the kitchen garden, "vine-branches," "bunches of grapes"—and that there is a great gulf between the portcullis which closes like a door and the portcullis that rakes the wheat laid on the threshing floor. People would be amazed at hearing me mention a "club," and a thousand other old or new usages of words which have given the learning of doctors even to peasants, from whom the gossips go gleaning expressions, thinking they'll go straight to heaven by means of that gab and chatter. PIPPA Let's get back to the men, because I can just hear them calling you a market bitch, making a hubbub about your searching for figs on the crest of that fig tree you climbed yesterday or a few days ago; and then you scold me for being more of a child than a young girl. NANNA;lkjLet them think what they wish. I couldn't care less. I hold them at the place where one blows hot and cold on walnuts, I can play the flute better with my asshole than they can with their hands. Now to our enemies, or rather to the enemies of those women who don't know how to flay men, and like good housewives save even the selvage scraps of the dresses they have cut. I say that these good women and other types of whores, who would rather give it to factors, stewards, grooms, lackeys, gardeners, porters, and cooks than gentlemen, nobles, and monsignors, are very good and achieve a work of charity. They are saintly, not merely clever and wise. PIPPA Why do you say that? NANNA;lkjBecause stewards, lackeys, grooms, gardeners, porters, and cooks are at least your slaves and would even put their heads in the flames or between the block and the axe to please you; and even if they chopped them up, they couldn't pull a secret out of their mouths; and besides, nobody would believe it even if it were said: "The Messer So-and-So's factor ploughs his wife." What's more, these ordinary folk are not listless and go with the nap of the cloth; and no matter how they are set in the saddle, they adapt themselves to the prevailing conditions. Nor do they grab a lantern so that they can see how many wrinkles you have in your cunt, stroking it and pushing back its lips. Nor do they make you lift your ass up high, slapping it

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with the flat of their hands or scratching it with their nails. They don't force you to take off all your clothes and go stark naked in the middle of the day, compelling you to take it first in the back and then in the front. Nor do they care, while driving their staff into your trill-hole, whether you give a little twist or a wriggle or shout dirty words to magnify their potency. Nor do they lay for four long hours on top of your body. Nor do they dislocate your bones by making you twist into those positions where you lift your legs high in the air and let yourself be screwed at the same time—all those positions which men invent, have invented and will continue to invent in order to distort the pelvic regions of poor working whores. And all those positions I told you about yesterday—the grazing sheep and those other filthy postures—are sweet as sugar compared to these. PIPPA Yes, mother, you told about them yesterday. NANNAlkjhThe pigs even put it in our mouth— PIPPA I'm going to retch. NANNA;lkj—there are others who eat it— PIPPA I'm retching, I tell you. NANNA;lkj—and then after they fill their mouths with.our cunts, they go about announcing it as though it were a lovely thing. PIPPA They should be hung. NANNAlkjhAnd they aren't even aware of their disgrace, for they made us into whores and taught us all those filthy stunts; and all our whoring abilities and charms have come to us from the caprices of this or that whoremaster. And those who say that the first-comer who used us as boys, driving his stake up our asses, didn't have to force us, is lying and super-lying. And it's clear that accursed cold cash enchanted the whore who first turned her ass for it. And I, who have done-my share and have been the lewdest whore imaginable, never took that position except when I could no longer withstand the pleas and implorations of my customer, who harassed me so much that I stuck my ass right in his belly and cried: "And after this, what'll we do?" PIPPA That's right, what'll they do next? NANNAlkjhAnd what a roar of laughter comes from their throats as they watch their prongs slide in and out of our backsides. And when they push it hard on an angle or jab it in some soft spot, you'd think [ 276 ]

they were going to faint away with the pleasure they get from hurting us. Sometimes they get a huge mirror, undress us and make us go about completely naked, and then they force us to hold the most obscene postures and positions that the human fantasy can concoct. They gaze longingly at our faces, breasts, nipples, shoulders, loins, cunts, and thighs, nor could I possibly tell you how that satiates their lust and the pleasure they get from looking. And how many times do you think that these punks set their husbands and young boys at the peephole so that they can see it all too? PIPPA Is that true? NANNAlkjhI wish it wasn't. And how many times do you think, in accordance with the priestly mode, they make three happy at one go? Oh abysses, open now or never, fling open your maw! And I have known certain men who, employing all the subterfuges, have been so persuasive with their girl friends that they thrust it in them in carts and right in the presence of the carter, smack, in the middle of the main road where everyone passes, the horse going at full gallop under the whip, and with all that jolting and thumping they had the enjoyment of a completely new experience in reams and pushes. PIPPA What strange desires! NANNA;lkjAnother man gets his lady to agree, since August is near, that she'll do it with him on all the rainy days. And when the rain starts she has to go to bed with him and stay there as long as that idiotic rain lasts. And you can imagine how annoying it is for a healthy woman to stay between the sheets for one or two days, even eating and drinking like someone who is sick. PIPPA 1 could never last through that. NANNAlkjhAnd what a murderous job it is for a woman working at pleasure to get a man who wants to have his balls scratched and tickled. And what a bore it is always to keep his nightingale awake and erect, and besides, having to hold your hands on the shores of his ass! Then let one of these whore-torturers come and tell me that money can pay for such filthy, stinking patience. I'm not telling you all this, my dear daughter, so that it will .disgust you—on the contrary, I want you to know how to do everything better than any other bitch—but I have touched all the keys to show you that we don't steal the few pennies they give us. No, we buy it dearly at the

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price of our honesty and are driven to it by our poverty. I could give my soul to the Devil when I hear us called promise-breakers and betrayers. It's true, we often break our promises. So what? Aren't we women, even if we are whores? And being women and whores, is it so surprising that we couldn't care less about breaking our oaths, which were made by two blunt, unfeeling hands? The real trouble is in the uproar which you men make, shrieking like tailors, and not in the quiet way we women behave, silent as chess players. Why we give it away again and again and for nothing, and for nothing we take it in and pull it out; and all this occurs because our brains never could decide what sort of dish best suited our tastes. Some say that the dish to our taste is spiced with gold and silver! So that makes us new again, if the men want to make us out to be stingier than they are. You cannot count on your nose all the women who, in order to make money, have sold out citadels, cities, masters, lords, and Dominusteco; but you can count on your fingers, indeed list with your pen, the men who trick, have tricked, and will continue to trick the Holy Father, the world's shepherd. PIPPA You're really feeling your oats, and that's why you pulled out the finest stories in your bag. NANNA;lkjLet him do what he is doing and say what he is saying, and by keeping silent you will mock the man who, blurting it out like a squirt of diarrhea, goes about farting: "That filthy whore, she has broken her deceptive promise!" And if you decide to answer him, shout in a loud voice: "She learned it all from you promisebreakers." PIPPA I'll paste it on him, but gracefully. NANNA;lkjOh, what a delight it would be to redden their ass with a bull whip, especially when they scold us for not being satisfied with twenty-five lovers and call us greedy she-wolves and dirty bitches, as though these wolves and dogs slept with only one woman. Let's forget how they sniff at all the women they meet; and even after they have them all, they're not satisfied, but with great industriousness go and satisfy their lust even with the scullions in the filthiest taverns of Rome. And if it weren't for the fact that they would say that we have it in for the sodomites because they steal three-thirds of our trade, I could tell you things about these louts; I could tell

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you such stories that you would clap your hands over your ears so as not to hear them. PIPPA The wretches, they should go and bury themselves. NANNA;lkjBut now let us talk about the women who have been ruined by the disorderly passions of immoral men. PIPPA Yes, let's get to them. NANNA;lkjIt happened that a whore who should never have been born, after suffering the rages, insults, mockeries, curses, and blows with which for two long years her lunk of a lover assailed her, vacated the premises. And she cleared out only herself, leaving behind all the knickknacks which he had given her and she had fully earned. When she left, she swore that she would never go back, at least not until she had become ashes. And that's how it was, and with the stubbornness of a strong-willed woman she lunged with her nails at the face of anyone who tried to get her to smear herself with him again. Then the man sent men friends and women friends, pimps and bawds, even his confessor, and none of them could convert her. It's quite true that he never sent her goods, since a man who's lost his woman thinks he might get her back by means of the stuff left in his hands: and so it is. But now the lecher spent several weeks thinking constantly of how to get her back, and then he hit on it. After he found it and already felt that he would get his revenge on the woman who had not wanted to come back, he flew into a terrible rage; and what did he do? He pretended to have a sudden attack of fever and a cruel pain in his chest, and there and then let himself fa'l on the floor. The story soon spread through the quarter. Men seivants and women servants rushed to his side to remind him of his eternal soul, for they felt that his body, which was as sound as an oak, was done for. PIPPA He who doesn't watch his feet, stumbles. NANNAlkjhThe monk came and said: "May God give you back your health!" and sat down at his bedside. Consoling him and telling him to be of good cheer, the priest started discussing his most serious mortal sins, asking him whether he had killed or had had anyone killed. The miser squeezed out a few tears and said: "I have done worse, and this is the betrayal which my perversity led me to commit against a certain lady . . ." Then he mumbled her name so that the

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monk would hear it and then made a show of fainting away, and immediately all the servants started to shout: "Get the vinegar!" And after bathing his wrists with it, he suddenly came to; then going back to his confession, speaking in gasps, he said: "Father, I'm dying. I know very well what's wrong with me; and since we have a soul, and since there is also a Hell, I hereby leave my land holdings to the woman I mentioned before. Tell her about it as if it were yourself, and if I actually get better, I will have a notary include her in my will"; and here his confession suddenly ended. The priest gave him absolution and set out along the highways and byways to find the lady. When he finally did, he drew her aside and told her word for word the story of the legacy. PIPPA Now she's had it. NANNA;lkjWhen she heard that word estate, her heart began to dance up and down, making her tingle with joy; but then she gave a twist to her rump, shook her head from side to side with odd jerks and jolts, pursed her lips so that they seemed the acme of contempt, and barely opening her tiny mouth, said: "I don't care for estates or for legacies." That made the father sore as hell, and he turned on her, bawling: "What sort of stuff are you made of? Do you intend to scorn the goods given you per Dominum nostrum, and in such a manner? Besides, what devilish Jew would let a soul be damned? Bring your mind in accord with your conscience, my dear spiritual daughter; get dressed immediately and rush to him, for I think I hear trumpeting in my ears: "He will get well, if she goes to him." Pippa, the very Devil's in it when an inheritance is at stake. Over this brothers and cousins crucify each other. And so the poor dupe of his fatherhood trotted off and reaching the door rapped at it with the same assurance with which the mistresses of lords rap on their lovers' doors and then stride in. As soon as he heard that rat-tat-tat, the messer, who was lying in bed like a corpse, though perfectly well, had them open for her; and she flew up the stairs in two jumps, flung herself on him, and embraced him without saying a word, for her tears, which were neither wholly feigned nor wholly true, prevented her from speaking. PIPPA And who could know better than she? NANNAlkjhJudas Iscariot, that Iscariot who knew more sleeping [ 280 ]

than she did awake. And so, as if her coming had resurrected him, he immediately got up and having given her visit a name, "the miracle," regained his health in four days. Then he said: "Let's go to the estate which I left you as I was dying. I'm going to give it to you as a gift, for I have been cured owing to your kindness." She went with him; and just when she thought she was going to receive the land, she was presented as a tasty snack to the hunger of more than forty peasants who, since it was the feast-day of Saint Galgano the prankster, were all gathered in a half-ruined shack without windows, talking in fact about what they intended to do to the town's women and local whores, when the manna fell right into their mouths. PIPPA So the strawberry was flung into the bear's maw, eh? NANNA;lkjSo it was, and if I wished to find a comparison for those rusty rods that jutted out of their breeches, I could find nothing better than the horns of a snail; but that isn't decent, nor should I paint for you the things they did to her as they poured their damned-up water into the mill. It's enough if I say that they shook her peach tree with true peasant crudity; and according to what the woman betrayed by the priest's exhortation told me later, the stench of filth they emanated, the radish-root belches they fired off, followed closely by blasting farts, were more painful to her than the tortures suffered by her honor. PIPPA I believe it.I NANNA;lkjWhen those peasants were satisfied, having made her into the keg for their oil, and while she, all disheveled, was scratching her entire body, they tossed her into a blanket fitted out with handles; and the same thirty-one stalwarts bounced her so high that it took almost a quarter of an hour for her to come down. As she flew up in the air, her blouse and skirt fluttered in the wind and juxtaposed her moon to the midday sun; and if fear hadn't made her shit, so that the blanket and the hands holding it were varnished stiff, she would still be bouncing. PIPPA May the head of him who agreed to it be bounced like a ball! NANNA;lkjAnd when he felt that that outsize thirty had scraped her sufficiently and that she had had quite enough entertainment [ 281 ]

from the blanket, he had them gather a sheaf of switches and set the woman astride the shoulders of a cruel bloody villain, who held her firmly and then, after she had squirmed for some time, they cut at her ass with as many switches as the days she had made her lover beg her to visit him. And to be sure that nothing was missing in this Neronian feast of wretched torture, he clipped her dress around her middle and sent her off with his blessing. PIPPA May he be left to the discretion of the axe, when the executioner lifts it to shorten the neck of someone who deserves it much less. NANNA;lkjIt was said—and it was true—that as she was leaving she tried to cover her shame with her hand; but a swarm of bees flew in between her thighs, thinking they had found their hive. PIPPA That, on top of everything else. NANNA;lkjI am a great admirer of one of the cleverest whores in Rome, who was enticed by three hundred ducats left to her in a will made by a man who was dying to get her. She ran to him and saw that he was pretending to be extremely sick, and that the will which rang with the melody of three hundred ducats was just to get her to run and to show her what she could hope for if she complied with his wishes. And you know what she did? PIPPA I don't, but I'd really like to. NANNA;lkjShe fed him a morsel of poison and sent him to his final home, and so the will was counted in her hand in ready coin. PIPPA I want to say a rosary for her; and I wish that because of my Our Fathers the Lord God of Imola will allow pumpkins to blossom, and forgive her for so charming a sin. NANNA;lkjBut one thorn doesn't make a hedge, nor one ear of wheat a harvest; and if that one woman knew her way around, this other one tried to straighten poppy stems and wrongfully and sinfully had her face cut open by her lover, a slash that was more raw than cooked and that required seven stitches. Yet because of all the false tears he shed, and all the sighs and protestations of bogus loyalty, even with her face still swathed in bandages, she not only agreed not to hate him but even consented to sleep with him again nearly every night; and when she thought that in recompense for the outrage to her beauty she would receive some great gift, one morning she [ 282 ]

found herself worse off than Don Falcuccio of blessed memory. He cleared her house out right down to a silver thimble, leaving her to beat her breast and tear her hair even more desperately than daughters do when they close their mothers' eyes forever. PIPPA It's the deuce if I can't find my way through the darkness when you lead the way With a lighted torch. NANNA;lkjPippa, do you remember when you used to get out of bed to pee while I was sleeping? PIPPA Yes, my lady, yes. NANNA;lkjAnd do you know that most times when you tried to get back into bed you couldn't find it, and the more you groped in the dark the more you were lost, and that you would never have found it if you hadn't waked me? PIPPA That's true. NANNA;lkjAnd since even in the tiniest details you can't do without me, behave so that you can use me as your candlestick in the great matters; and in each and every thing you do, remember what I say, listen to me, obey me, and follow me. And if you act as I tell you, you will be able to handle giants, not to speak of dwarfs. And certainly you must always keep your wits about you, because we are like gamblers, who, if they had to dress on what they win at cards and dice, would always go barefoot. Choose any whore you wish, rich, favored, and beautiful, and yet at the end she will look like some old decrepit cardinal who didn't become the Pope because death voted him down. PIPPA You're talking gloomily. NANNA;lkjI slipped out of the furrow because I want so much to go too straight, and this always happens to those who squeeze little words together and thus squeeze them out of shape like grapes growing in too thick a bunch. I should like to force you to believe that the happiest and most contented whore is unhappy and discontented. So they can gab and gossip as much as they wish, but that's the story. Molfetta's stableman used to say that a whore's happiness and contentment were flesh and blood sisters to the expectations of that courtier who holds in his hands a letter saying that his rival is on the point of death; and then the rival recovers just at the moment he has fallen heir to his perquisites. But let those who see it all as [ 283 ]

smooth going tell me: can the woman I described be happy, since if she stays, goes, sleeps, or eats, she must, whether she likes it or not, sit with someone else's buttocks, walk with someone else's feet, sleep with someone else's eyes, and eat with someone else's mouth? How can she be content when all people point her out as a slut and a public woman? PIPPA My goodness, is every whore a public woman ? NANNAlkjhOf course., PIPPA But why? NANNAlkjhEvery man who spends money for his pleasure can climb on top of her, whether he is stinking rich, a tanner of dogskin, or a plebeian in his proper place; for ducats glitter as brightly in the palms of servants as in the mits of masters. And if a watercarrier's crowns combined with those of a spruce, shitten courtier have the same value, the person who receives them cannot place one sort above the other. So, ever since money came into existence, a whore must open her legs as well for a lackey as for a king. And so it is that every whore who wants money, and not sword thrusts and cudgel blows, is a public dish. PIPPA It couldn't be said more eloquently. NANNA;lkjGo on, ask not just the preachers but even the pulpits whether we are happy and content. They mount their pulpits and start laying it into us: "Oh, woe unto you, obscene, wretched concubines of all the devils' hundred horns, wives of hobgoblins, sisters of Lucifer, shame of the world, disgrace of your sex in mulieribus! The dragons of hell will devour your soul, they will scorch and burn it. The cauldrons of boiling brimstone await you, the redhot spits call you; the demons' claws will tear you apart, you will be meat for their fangs, and you will be scourged by serpents: in eternum, in eternum." Now here is the confessor: "Ite in igne, in igne, I say, lewd women, sin-bags, wreckers of men, enchantresses, witches, sorceresses, spies of the Devil, filthy raving she-wolves!" And they won't even listen to us, much less give us absolution. And when Holy Week comes, the Jews, who nailed Our Lord to the cross, are better regarded than we are. And our conscience gnaws at us and says to us: "Go and bury yourself in a dunghill, and don't show yourself among Christians." And why are we brought to this mis[ 284 ]

fortunate state? Because of the love of men, to satisfy them, and because they made us this way. PIPPA Why don't they cry down the men as they do us? NANNA;lkjThat's what I wanted to say. His paternal reverence Messer Preacher should address their lordships and say: "Oh you spirits of temptation, why do you force, why do you contaminate, why do you ram it into chaste women, leave-us-alone women, foolish women? And if you can put*it in in any way you wish, why then do you rob them blind, why do you slash their faces, and why do you go about defaming them?" That scurvy monk should speak so that those serpents, those cauldrons, those spits, those snake-whips, claws, fangs, and demons are sent hurling into the thick of their defects. PIPPA Maybe they will. NANNA;lkjhDon't think it, don't believe it, and don't count o it; for the wretched are those who lack something and can't do anything about it, and so men are coddled, not berated, by the monks. Now I'll tell you how those who rasp it up and down in us can be made to pay. PIPPA I think you told me already. NANNAlkjhIt's not true; besides, tidings that matter can be repeated even two or three times. Pippa, I would like you to find out from one of these vain creatures who criticize us only because we try to get some profit, making men pay us for the service we give to those who tell us what to do: why, pray, by what reckoning, and for what reason should we give our services for the sake of their lovely eyes? Here's the barber who washes and shaves you—and why? For your money. The.hoers would never lift a hoe in the vineyard, nor would the tailors stick a needle in a cloth, if coins didn't leap into their purses. Get sick and don't pay, and you'll see the doctor the day after tomorrow, that is, never; hire a maid and don't give her a salary, and you'll have to do her work. Go shopping for salad greens, go shopping for horseradish, for oil, for salt, for whatever you wish, but do it without money and you'll come back emptyhanded. Why you even have to pay for confession, for absolution . . . PIPPA They don't have to be paid for any more. You're going too far. NANNAlkjhHow do you know? [ 285 ]

PIPPA I was told so by the Father Penitentiary when he tapped my head with the rod. NANNAlkjhThat might be so; but just think of a priest or a monk who has heard your confession: if you haven't offered him anything, you'll see what a pretty look he'll give you. And it can be as you say, you still have to pay for masses; and the person who doesn't want to be buried in the pauper's yard or under the wall must pay for the Kyrie eleison, the porta inferi, and the requiem eternam. And that's all I meant to say. The prisons of Corte Savella, Torre di Nona, and Campadoglio are there to take you in and hold you tightly, and then they want to be paid and superpaid. And finally the executioner gets his three or four ducats for the necks he chops and the heads he lops off, nor will he put the brand on a thief's forehead, cut off a gluttonous nose, or a traitorous ear, unless the senator or governor, the mayor or captain has given him what's coming to him. Go to the slaughterhouse; and if you have four miserable ounces of mutton over the weight, and they let you carry it away before you've added a few more coins, well, my name isn't Nanna. And even the lousy priests who bless the eggs take their share. So if you think it's right to give all of your body, all of your limbs, and all of your emotions for a mere "Thank you so much, my lady," go right ahead; and if you want to offer yourself gratis even to merchants, who never even look at anyone if they don't get a percentage, go ahead and do it. PIPPA Not me, I don't want to. NANNAlkjhSo then, listen to me carefully. And when you've heard me, follow my advice; and if you do, the men won't be able to protect themselves from you, while you will know how to protect yourself from them. Let them flirt from the windows of their rooms just opposite yours, dangling in their hands necklaces, sables, pearls, and purses stuffed with money, making the coins jingle by striking them with their palms. All fiddlefaddle, folderol, flapdoodle, and flimflam to flub simpletons, ninnies, and nitwits, indeed the sort of subterfuges that bamboo2le all those who let themselves be attracted by them; and no sooner do they see that you're willing to make love with them, thinking you want to give it to them gratis, than they stare straight at your cunt, stick out their fingers in an [ 286 ]

obscene fashion, and cry: "Take this, you slut, you trull, you droopassed sow." PIPPA If they play that kind of joke on me, I won't leave it to my children to get my revenge. NANNAlkjhRevenge yourself also for the pots and tubs of boiling tar they throw at your windows to burn and break them, not to mention the waxed rags they use to disjoint doors and turn them topsy turvy; and then, to put a final seasoning on their pranks, they make sure to add shouts, cries, whistles, insults, gibes, farts, belches —all the bold deeds they use to wake you up when you're fast asleep. Why, just look at them, parading around your house, yelling out your faults as loudly as their own should be proclaimed. PIPPA May they all get lung trouble! NANNAlkjhOne waste-the-day stud suddenly had a brainstorm, the silliest in fact that ever occurred to a lying, hypocritical, doltish lover. PIPPA And what was the brainstorm? NANNA;lkjSo that he would look as though he had real hopes of winning his lady love, and so she would, after hearing of it, begin thinking of how to meet his wishes, he dressed all in green—a green cap, cape, doublet, breeches, scabbard, hilt and tip, belt, blouse, and shoes, and I believe even his hair and beard were dyed green: and then his plume, clasp, buckle, tags, greatcoat, and everything. PIPPA What a cake of greens! NANNA;lkjHa ha ha! And he wouldn't eat anything that wasn't green—squashes, cucumbers, melons, small cabbages, pease porridge, lettuce, borage, fresh almonds, and chick peas. And so that the wine would look green, he poured it into a green glass; and when he ate ice cream, he sucked only the green laurel leaves they put in it. He had his bread laced with rosemary pounded and mixed with olive oil so it would take on a green shade. He sat on green stools, slept in a green bed, and always talked about herbs, meadows, gardens, and springtimes. When he sang, all you heard was about hope growing like leafy trees over the green harvest fields; and he strewed his verses with arbors, pimpernels and dandelions. And when he sent a letter to his star, he wrote it on green sheets; and I believe when he [ 287 ]

went to the toilet it was green shit that came out of him, exactly like the complexion of his face and the tint of his urine. PIPPA A pure nut. NANNA;lkjShe was a nut, too, for she thought that he did all this for the sake of her divine charms and not because of his lechery. And what do you expect? He play-acted hope so well and preached it so loudly that the good-hearted bitch, who didn't want to become the living proof of his lies, let matters take their course, thinking that this bright idea of making everything green was in homage to her beauty. And do you know what she got from Sir Greenhorn? He left her in the lurch, first robbing her blind, right down to the blanket on her bed. PIPPA He was gloating for the gallows. NANNA;lkjNow a certain dame called Quiniminia, rather awkward and ungraceful, whom nature had given a pretty enough face and figure to help her break her neck and, what is more, bring about her ruin—like the man who knows just enough about gambling to play and always lose—could read just enough to figure out the letters of a note some charlatan had sent to her. Oh God, where the devil are you hiding if you let Cupid hit people in the dark? And how can such a brat shoot arrows that wound us to the heart? He should wound the boils that plague us women since we put our faith in charlatans who lead us to believe we have eyes like the sun, hair like gold, cheeks like cochineal, lips like rubies, teeth like pearls, a serene air, a divine mouth, and an angelic tongue—letting ourselves be blinded and dazzled by the missives these women-dupers send us, just as the woman I am describing let herself be duped. Since she wanted everybody to make a fuss over the fact she could read, every moment she could steal she planted herself in front of the window with a book in her hand. So one day a rhyme-croaker caught sight of her, and figuring that he could play a trick on her by inditing some fable in characters of gold, he dyed a sheet of paper in the juice of gilliflowers, the vermilion species, and dipping his pen into fig milk he wrote how she made the angels despair because of her charms, and that gold stole its luster from her hair and spring its blossoms from her cheeks, and even got her to believe that milk could wash itself white in the pallor of her breasts and hands. And [ 288 ]

you can just imagine whether she didn't commit the sin of vanity on hearing him flatter her so fulsomely. PIPPA The ninny. NANNA;lkjWhen she had finished reading the act of her dismemberment, which she thought lavished more praises on her than the Laudamus, she became quite sentimental. And seeing that an answer was requested, she flung herself into the arms of that "a secret just between us two" which deceivers always put in their scribbles in big block letters, so that we'll immediately have faith in them. She set her appointment with him for the afternoon, for at that time her husband went to visit their country estate, and then waited for the time to roll around. PIPPA What, she had a husband too? NANNA Yes, a disaster. PIPPA And at the worst time. NANNA;lkjBarely had Messer Sonnet-Singer received her yes than he gathered together a mob of paper-smudgers and song-screechers and told them: "I want to give a serenade to a little married whore, a very pretty little piece whom I shall soon muss up a bit. And to show you that this is true, here's a letter in her own hand." Then he showed them a few lines she had scrawled, and they laughed long and loud over it; then, taking up a lute, he tuned it in a jiffy and struck off a trill in real peasant style. Then, giving a brazen shout, he stationed himself beneath the window of his lady love, which looked out on a lane down which about one person passed each year. Leaning his back against the wall, fitting his instrument to his chest, he lifted his face and, while she glided about above, flashing for moments at the window, he softly chanted this soqg: For all the gold in the world, Lady, In praising you I would not speak a lie, For then I would shame both myself and you. No, by God! I will never claim That your mouth is scented like India or Sabine, Nor that your hair Is lovelier than gold. Nor that love lodges in your eyes, Nor that the sun robs its radiance from them,

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Nor that your lips and teeth are White pearls and lovely gleaming rubies, Nor that your pretty ways would The rivers run merrily through brothels. But I do say you are a lovely piece, More so than any other dame And have such grace that, to do it To you a hermit would desert his vows. Though I will not say you are divine, And piss orange water instead of urine.

PIPPA I can tell you that I would have thrown the mortar at his head; yes, I would certainly have thrown it down on him. NANNA;lkjShe, who wasn't cruel, as you also will not be, felt quite happy and quite grand. Why, she didn't even wait for her husband to leave, but the very next day she ran away with him to the house of a baker, a friend of the blowhard, to whom she gave for safekeeping one of those leather belts that women clasp about their waists. When the messer saw the belt, he said to himself: "The ambergris will be fine to make me an armband, and the gold garnets to fill my purse." Then he went to the mint and turned the unstamped metal into clinking coin. He wheedled thirty-seven gold ducats out of the pater nostri who dealt in ambergris, and then gambled it away immediately. Then he returned with empty pockets to the baker's shack and flew into one of those rages that seize a man left without an ace because of the ace. Then blaming the bitch for his hard luck, he broke her bones with a club and threw her down the stairs with a fusillade of blows. PIPPA Good for her. NANNA;lkkjThen she spent the night in the room of some laun dress, but didn't sleep a wink. So she had plenty of time to think of her revenge, and she thought of it in the form which I shall now relate. The belt which the crook had torn apart had been snitched by her husband from the Cardinal de la Valle's house, which had burnt down not so long before; and she in turn had stolen it from her husband's chest. Now that she had lost it, in order to revenge herself on the man who had beaten her so badly, and not thinking of what might come of it, she went to the owner of the burnt house [ 290 ]

and told him that So-and-So had his belt. The nobleman knew the real story and had the police grab her husband, and the captain of the Savella Court, having received the tipoff, figuring that he had most likely pinched several other trifles, gave him a good taste of the rope. So the nitwit was left with her own trouble and disgrace, not to mention her husband's, and the crook who had treated her that way went free by the skin of his teeth. PIPPA Good. Just what she deserves for opening her legs so readily. ,NANNA;lkjBut up till now I've just shown you the grains of pepper, of millet, dried grapes, wheat, and pomegranate. Now I am going to unfurl the sheet from top to bottom and shall tell you one last story, which is far from idle chatter, and then I'll send you out to play. So listen to me; and if you can keep from crying, do so. PIPPA What, is it about some woman who was knocked up and then driven to the gallows? NANNA;lkjWorse. PIPPA Some girl taken from her mother and father, beaten, and then abandoned in the middle of the street? NANNA;lkjWorse than a disfigured face, a clipped-off nose, being left with only a slip to her back, disgraced, eaten up by the syph, and reduced to the most miserable condition imaginable. PIPPA God help us! NANNA;lkjThis is what happens to a whore who screws on credit. PIPPA Certainly all this is due to the poets, for whom you want me to spread my legs while they shoot it at me. NANNA;lkjI never said anything like that. I want you to caress them but without ever giving them even a slice of it. And you should do this so they won't tear you apart with their sarcastic praises; or if they do mock at you with their vicious cracks, it won't seem that they're really talking about you. PIPPA That's the way to manage it. NANNA;lkjNow I can't remember what I wanted to say. PIPPA Nor can I. NANNA;lkjYou see, that's what happens when you stop the stream of words in my mouth. [ 291 ]

PIPPA But I have to be concerned with what interests me. NANNA;lkjOh, I've got it: a king. A king, and I don't mean some measly doctor or some piddling chief of a squad—a king, I tell you. Well, this king with a great mob of soldiers on foot and horse started a campaign in the country of another king, his enemy, and put it to the sack, burned it, and wrecked it, setting up a siege around a sad town where the other king, who had not been able to come to any sort of agreement with him, had taken refuge together with his wife and his only daughter. Now with the war dragging on and on, the king who wanted to take the town could only struggle uselessly, for the town was so strong that Signer Giovanni dei Medici himself, the very god of war, could not have taken it, no matter how much he bombarded, cannonaded, and shot arrows at it. Then do you know what happened ? The king who was fighting performed great feats in the skirmishes. He cut off one man's head, chopped off another's arm, and sliced off yet another's hand, and with one thrust of his lance sent a last soldier flying a mile high, so that both friends and foes couldn't stop talking about his exploits. So presumptuous fame became his guide, escorted him in triumph through the camp, and then wriggled its way into the besieged town, reaching the king's unlucky daughter and whispering into her ear: "Come up on the battlements and you shall see the handsomest, bravest, and most beautifully caparisoned young man that was ever made." As soon as she heard this she ran up there and recognized the king from the terrible plumes atop his helmet and his coat of silver mail which dazzled the very rays of the sun, while his splendor wounded her deeply; and she went out of her head. And as she was gazing fondly at the horse, the mail, and the king's great feats of arms, lo and behold! he rode right up to the gate; and as he flourished his sword to kill a soldier who was scrabbling ahead of him, the strap of his helmet broke and his helmet jumped off his head. Then she saw his ruddy face, which had become even redder in the fight; and the sweat which his labors had spread over it seemed like the dew which bathes roses when dawn begins to open them. PIPPA Let's cut it short. NANNA;lkjShe became so thoroughly inflamed by him that she was blinded and no longer cared about what he had done, or what he [ 292 ]

intended to do to her father. She loved him just as much as he hated

the man who had given her life—the wretch, for she also knew that all that glitters is not gold. At any rate, love made her so reckless that one night she opened a secret door in the palace, a door which had been made for getting food in the old days, and through which one could go and come without being seen. She had the key to that little door, and she went through it, and all alone went to the man who was ravening for her blood. PIPPA How did she find her way in the dark? NANNA;lkjThey say that the fires in her heart lit up her path. PIPPA She really was burning. NANNA;lkjShe was so aflame that without the slightest qualms not only did she become familiar with the traitorous man, but she even lay with him, letting herself be lulled by his blarney: "Now listen, my dear lady, I accept you as my wife, and I want your father as my father-in-law and lord; but only after you have promised me that you will open the portals of the town to me, since it is not from hatred but because of a yearning for glory that I am warring against His Majesty. And no sooner will I have won than I shall make him a gift of all my victories and of my own realm besides." PIPPA How she seduced him and he seduced her would be marvelous to hear from their own lips. NANNA;lkjYou can imagine that, prompted, counseled, and excited by love, she formulated, thought, and said everything that love told her to formulate, think, and say; and you should remember that she wasn't some inexperienced and simple girl but a prudent and ardent woman, employing all the words which would soften a gentle heart, mixing with these phrases those tears, heartfelt sighs, and cunning tricks by which one gets what one wants. And we may also imagine that her lover, so pitiful on the outside and so cruel within, who felt the tortures of death so long as her father stayed alive, sugared his gab, and with all sorts of oaths and promises got her to fling open those portals,, which in fact the flea-brain did. And the first thing the traitor did was to seize the old man and woman from whose seed she was born and slit both their throats in her presence. PIPPA Didn't she die? [ 293 ]

NANNA;lkjGrief never killed a soul. PIPPA Hail Mary! NANNA;lkjWhen they were dead, he set fire to the houses, churches, palaces, and shops; he let some of the inhabitants be burned up and some he put to the sword, not making any distinction between old and young, men or women. PIPPA Didn't she hang herself? NANNA;lkjDidn't I say that love had blinded her and made her completely batty? So like a madwoman she raved out her lament; and each time she fixed her eyes on the man who was not her husband but her worst enemy, she looked at him as though he had done her a great favor. PIPPAaaShe wasn't in love, she was crazy.. NANNAaheMay God preserve the dogs, Pippa, may God save the Moors from such a situation! You can be sure that love is a brutal story, and you can take it from someone who has been through it: believe me, my dear, stay away from love. I myself would rather die than have to spend a month going through the torments of a man who has given up all hope of ever sleeping again with the woman he adores. It's like a fever. To be without money is nothing; to have enemies is a trifle. What can be called real torment is that which happens to a man who, because he loves, can't sleep, drink, or eat and can't sit down or stand up; his imagination is thick with thoughts of her, he wears himself out with worries, but his worries never get worn out by merely thinking about them. PIPPAae.Yet everyone falls in love. NANNAaklThat's true. But they all get that foolish face which whoring gives to the herds, the flocks, and the infinite hordes of the furious. And ninety-nine out of a hundred whores are all show, as Romanello used to say, and whoredom as a whole resembles a grocery shop which has secretly gone into bankruptcy, although all its cases are in order and its little pots, and vases are in rows neatly labeled with letters that say confectionary, anise, candied almonds, seasoned walnuts, pepper grains, saffron, pine nuts—yet just open this vase or that, and what do you find: a big zero. In the same way the gold chains, fans, rings, cute dresses, and headdresses of the most elegantly adorned and perfumed whores are the labels on those [ 294 ]

vases and empty cases, which I mentioned above. So for one lover who comes out well in his loving, there are thousands who wind up in misery. PIPPAaaeLet's get back to the story, or else people might say that you are always getting mixed up in your plot. NANNAlkjsThey won't say it because women are women; and when they disguise their true nature, they can say to whoever reproaches them: "Find out for yourself." But let's get going: the betrayed girl went off with the man who had leveled her country and murdered her father and mother, and the time soon rolled around when she, heavy with his child, was ready to deliver it. When he heard this, the merciless man gave the order that she be flung completely naked on a thorny hedge so that the thorns would tear apart both her and her child. Alas, made bolder by desperation, she herself ripped off her clothes and cried: "Ungrateful wretch! Is this the thanks I get for believing in you! Do you think that a queen deserves such a death ? Who has ever heard of a father who would murder his child even before he has sinned, even before he was born?" PIPPA Oh, mercy! NANNAksdWhen she said those words, the very thorns were softened and moved aside for her, the green grass beneath the hedges received her in its lap, and there she gave birth to a boy, who looked just like the man who had made it. Just then a servant with the face of a demon appeared, seized the poor creature by the arm, and said: "My king wants me to kill him, so that he will rid himself at one blow of his hatred, your life, and this vile offspring." On saying this, he plunged a knife into his heart and severed the child's limbs, as yet soft and shapeless; and the tiny little soul, which saw heaven before it saw the sun, was snipped from the thread of life just when it was being tied to it. Yet such a death is sweeter than life, for to die before one knows what life is is similar to the beatitude of the saints. PIPPAadfI can believe it, but who can bear such harsh cruelty ? NANNAasdfAfter this she was dressed again; and since she wanted to drown herself in her own tears, they gave her a gold basin that contained a rope, poison, and a dagger. When the wretched woman

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-heard them say to her: "Choose one of these ways to kill yourself, and help your soul and body out of their difficulty by taking one of three different paths," she wasn't upset nor did she try to flee, but instead took the rope, poison, and knife and tried to kill herself by all three at once. And when she couldn't manage it, she wailed to heaven, which wouldn't let her hang, poison, and knife herself all at the same time. PIPPA Oh my God! NANNAafzShe circled her neck with the rope, tied it to a tree, and threw herself down, but the rope broke and she didn't die. She drank the arsenic, but it didn't hurt her because when she was a child her father had fed her antidotes for this poison. Then, snatching up the dagger, she raised her arm to plunge it into her heart; and just as she was about to dig in the point, love itself got between the dagger and her breast/and showed her the picture of her false lover which she had embroidered in varicolored silk on her dress; so her hand immediately dropped and the dagger fell from it because she had more respect for his painted image than for her own life. PIPPA I've never heard of such strange things. NANNAsdaAnd don't think for a minute that he who hated her more than death itself since she was of the same blood as his enemy became merciful because of the pity she had shown toward his effigy. Just the opposite. He had her tossed into the nearby sea, but the goddesses of the deep carried her back to the shore safe and sound. PIPPA I'm going to light two candles to those goddesses. NANNAasdfWhen that snake saw her on the shore, he called a brute of a man and said to him: "Pull out your sword and chop off her head." The sword rose in the air, it fell straight on her neck— and just then Our Lady helped her. PIPPASDFHow? NANNAASDFBy making the sword strike her with its flat side. PIPPA May God be praised! NANNAASDFBut that's not the end of it. The torturer had th build a huge fire and had her dragged into it by main force; but she didn't burn because just as she was going to fall into it, the heavens took pity on her, suddenly grew black, and poured down so much [ 296 ]

rain that it would have put out the furnaces of hell, much less a small bonfire of broom twigs and reeds. PIPPA Oh, righteous heaven, merciful heaven! NANNAASFAs soon as the flames, which tried to rise up with the smoke, were extinguished, the people cried out: "You see, signer, do you want to do what He who lives up there is against ? You ought to forgive the innocent girl, who unfortunately loves you too much, and whose loving you too much helped you to get revenge and to vanquish her people." PIPPA And didn't he yield to those pleas? NANNAASDDo the hardened criminals ever yield to the pleas of the virtuous? PIPPA Ah, well. NANNASDTaken from the fire which had been doused by the rain, despite all those who were begging mercy for her, she was put in a cage with a lion, and yet the truth was he barely sniffed at her; and he acted that way out of respect for her nobility, and so as not to humiliate so wretched a woman. PIPPAASDFMay God bless him. NANNAASDFHave you ever seen a dog that's gone mad and bis at his own paws? PIPPASDFYes, I have. NANNAASDFWell, if you have, you have seen that devil incarn desperately gnawing at his hands because he was unable to please himself with her death. He seized her braids and dragged her to the cellar of a tower and forced her to stay there for eight days without giving her food or drink; yet she ate and drank anyway, despite him and his nastiness. PIPPASDFHow did she do that? NANNAASDFAsk her grief and tears, for they'll tell you how t were transformed into bread and wine. Now when her cell was opened and she was found there alive, the renegade dog bashed his head against all the walls; and after breaking his own as a sign of his hatred for himself, he tied her with his own hands to the trunk of a tree and had his archers shoot all their arrows at her. But would you believe it? Out of pity the wind warded off all the blows, divid[ 297 ]

ing the cloud of arrows so that half of them fell on one side, half on the other. PIPPAASDFWhat a gentle wind! NANNAASDFNow here comes the worst of the tortures. Swol by that poison which inflates a man who cannot release the fire anger has kindled in his breast, he ordered that she be thrown down from the highest tower, and so she was carried up there. But when she saw them tie her hands, she shouted: "So those who are born of kings must die like servants?" This tower almost touched the heavens with its battlements, and not one of the executioners who had dragged her up there had the nerve to look at the people, who were gathered below with staring eyes waiting for the jump which she would have to make despite herself, while she, even in the best of spirits, used to shudder when looking down from even the least height. The sun which just then was shining in all its splendor, to avoid seeing her destroy herself, hid behind the clouds. Then she began to weep, pouring a Tiber and an Arno out of her eyes; but she wasn't crying due to the fear she had of bruising and breaking when she fell. She was ashamed to meet the soul of her father in the next world; and it seemed to her she could already hear her mother saying, when she came into the presence of her soul: "Oh heavens, oh abyss, here is the girl who stripped me of my flesh, with which I had clad her!" PIPPA I feel awful. NANNAASDFDon't be dismayed yet. Feeling herself being pus. by those cruel hands, she lifted her voice and cried: "Oh, you who remain here after me, forgive me and tell my story to those who are alive and those who will come, for I have erred more than any other woman because I loved more than anyone . . . " Nanna had uttered these last words when Pippa's cries resounded through the air, and she began yelling: "Pippa, my dear child! Get me a knife, cut her stays, get some water to sprinkle on her face. Help me lay her on the bed." That racket brought two of Nanna s maids; and they brought Pippa round, for she had fainted simply at seeing the girl flung in words from the tower, just as certain women can't bear to see the blood trickling from the flanks of the people of

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Genoa, who, on Good Friday night, right behind the crucifix in the procession, flagellate themselves with whips and scourges. But when she had recovered, Nanna, who didn't want her to faint again, left the story dangling. In fact she had told it on tiptoe, for she was a delicate storyteller when the fancy took her. While she was having various things brought to comfort Pippa, behold! the midwife and wetnurse began knocking at the door with complete assurance. When it was opened, they both came upstairs, and after greeting Nanna and her daughter, the midwife said: "Nanna, since tomorrow is a half-holiday, which in fact people make a whole holiday, we want to visit with you and enjoy your garden. And I should like you to listen to me and tell me whether I am setting the wetnurse on the right path, for she wants to set up as a procuress." "That's just what I'd like," Nanna replied, "and I'm very sorry you didn't hear what I've told my little Pippa yesterday and today about how to be a whore, and about the betrayals and tricks which men play on whores and other women. And just as I have no equal (and I'm not saying this to brag) in the art of whoring, so no one can stay abreast of you in the art of being a bawd. Yes, be sure to come, so that my little darling, my little angel, my sweet pet may hear and by hearing learn not how to be a bawd but how to deal with bawds and madams." So that was that; no further talk was needed. And so ends the second day.

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3 THE THIRD AND LAST DAY OF MESSER PIETRO ARETINO'S DIALOGUE, IN WHICH THE MIDWIFE EXPLAINS TO THE WETNURSE, WITH NANNA AND PIPPA LISTENING, HOW TO BE A PROCURESS.

The next day they arrived as planned and sat down under the peach tree. The midwife sat between the wetnurse and Nanna, while like a gallant Pippa sat opposite the midwife. Just at that point a large peach, which had remained on the tree, fell on the midwife's head, and the wetnurse said, while laughing: "Now you can't deny that when men made you give them the peaches of your ass, you didn't like to." "I admit that 1 didn't," she answered. "In fact on those few or even many times that I have had to turn my ass for it, I felt as if I were being led to the gallows. But if money is the do-all and be-all, where'3 the miracle if we even turn our assholes to be screwed?" After the laughter, which the fall of the peach had caused, was over, Pippa began to listen so intently that it seemed she wanted to drink in with her ears tht words of the midwife, who had begun to speak. MIDWIFEEMy dear Nurse, the bawd and the whore are notOT merely sisters but flesh and blood twins born from the same womb. Signora Lechery is the mother, and Messer Bordello is the father. At least that's what we read in the chronicles; though my idea is either that procuring is the daughter of whoring, or that whoring came straight from the belly of procuring. [ 301 ]

WET NURSEADSFHow do I come into this disput MIDWIFEASFBy the shank, which those who robbed us of our rightful place should break. In fact it is definitely established that procuring gave birth to the whore. And you can be sure that this is the true story; and if it is, we should not have to tolerate a situation where every measly whore sits above us at the banquets. WETNURSEADSFWell, that suits me. MIDWIFEEVERI'm astounded when I think that Solomon nev racked his brains over these fine points. But let's forget all that now and be content with our profession, which I shall bring to life for you as I tell you about it; and at the right time and place I will make you see how whoring, even if unawares, pays us homage. Why even the gentlemen admit this by placing us, when they discuss us in secret, to the destram partibus. Now just listen to me, and then you can talk. WETNURSE;LKJHere I am, all ears MIDWIFE;LKJNurse, I am more certain of what I have to say than of what Nanna here might have taught Pippa. And I know that being a whore is not just anybody's business; and that is why a whore's life is comparable to a game of chance: for each person who benefits by it, there are a thousand who draw blanks. Nevertheless, to be a bawd demands much more brains and skill. I won't deny that sorting these things out is just as hard to do as when one tries to wash one's hands at the same time one pours water over them. But the truth is that the bawd delves more deeply than the whore. And stop twisting your mug like that, because that's how it is. WETNURSEAS?Who's twisting her mug? MIDWIFEER?How-should I know? WETNURSEMEWhat you say seems true to me. MIDWIFEEKSNow just look at a bawd with a good repute thanks to her many good qualities, and you will be seeing one of the most famous doctors in the world. Now pay strict attention to me, if you wish to feed on my wisdom. Here you see a doctor wise in his going forth, knowledgeable at home; he speaks in Latin, writes in prescriptive style, and does everything with precision. So everyone rushes to him just as people rush to me, for they know that I am astute, capable, a pastmistress of the art. A doctor walks with utter [ 302 ]

assurance into all houses, and a bawd who knows what she's about does the same. A doctor knows the complexions, pulses, faults, bad humors, and illnesses of this person and that, while the bawd knows the frenzies, whims, private parts, and hidden vices of almost everyone. The doctor heals diseases of the liver, lungs, chest, and side, while the bawd cures the diseases of jealousy, passion, and rage, the very hearts of women and men. The doctor comforts while the bawd consoles; the doctor makes you well again, and the bawd by bringing a lover to your bed does the same. The doctor's happy face cheers up the sick man, and the bawd's brazen face revives the lover; and the procuress should get much more credit than the doctor, for the diseases of love are much more demented and bedeviled than those that can be attributed to Dame Kind. The doctor gets paid in new coin, and the procuress does too; and anyone who is sick can count himself lucky when the doctor sees in his urine what the bawd sees in the faces of those who come to her for help and counsel. And just as the doctor must be fluent of speech, a smooth talker full of witty sayings, so the bawd can't make her way if she doesn't have a hundred tales on the tip of her tongue. The doctor knows how to promise to heal the man who will die the following day, and the bawd fills with hope the man ready to hang himself. WETNURSEe shesn't miss a trick.rick. MIDWIFEeARSThe doctor has a diversified wardrobe: he wear one garb on Easter, another on All Saint's Day, another for solemn occasions, and still another for Sundays; and so the bawd changes her dress not in accordance with the weather but in keeping with the people whom she deals with and guides to the proper goal. Let us say, for example, that I am going to talk to a gentle lady or a rich courtesan; why then I dress as a poor little woman, in order to make her pity my poverty and, as a result, the poverty of those I represent. However, with women low on the social scale and without wealth, I appear before them splendidly attired and do so to gain credit for myself and to give hope to them. WETNURSEePE?How does that give them hope MIDWIFEEAMThe hope of getting rich—since I look rich to theM —owing to the opportunities I put in their hands. WETNURSE IT.Ah, you've got to be born to it. [ 303 ]

MIDWIFEHISAnd now let me tell you this: the doctor has in his room powders, waters, herbs, roots, small boxes, flasks, retorts, cauldrons, and suchlike rubbish; while the bawd not only has these trifles but even spirits subjugated by a spell she casts, and she carries one of these enchanted spirits around in her rod. The doctor, using his medicines, removes both good and bad from the sick man's body; and the bawd, with her adeptness and skill, can extract ducats and small change from men's purses. The doctor should be at least middle-aged to be believed, and the bawd halfway along the journey of life if she wants people to have faith in her. But let's come out in the open and get to the introibo; and while I tell you how the procuress goes about her profession, clutch these lessons close and learn from the way I behaved how you should behave. WETNURSELKJOh, I really want to learn that! MIDWIFELKJAmong other things I have done and will do (if my health permits), I want to tell you one of the most elegant. It was always my habit to sniff through twenty-five churches every morning, robbing here a tatter of the Gospel, there a scrap of orate fratres, here a droplet of santus santus, at another spot a teeny bit of non sum dignus, and over there a nibble of erat verbum, watching all the while this man and that girl, that man and this other woman. Well, while doing this, I encountered a sturdy, polished man—one of those people who would first go without eating or sleeping rather than miss a holiday without a vigil, such as the feasts of Saint Joseph, Saint Jerome, Saint Job, and Saint John Gold Mouth. He was about thirty-six or thereabouts, well and decently dressed, and from what I could gather from the honors paid him by his friends, very, very learned; he had a pitch-black beard, gleaming like a mirror. Nor should you think that he just threw away his words or his glances; instead he stationed himself next to the holy water stoup and answered all greetings with pert nods of his head and certain knowing little grins. He was giving the pretty women the once-over, twice in fact, doing it in such a way that hardly anyone noticed. And when one woman or another dipped her finger ends into the stoup to sprinkle her face, he would praise the woman's hand with such wordless grace that she would walk past grinning too and go to stand at a place from which she could size him up. [ 304 ]

Sometimes he would stand there swaying on one foot, and with a firm, quiet effort bring his heavy eyebrows together in his high forehead; and he would remain in that position for the length of a Credo, suffusing his face's expression with such serene charm, Nurse, that he would have infatuated the water stoup itself. WETNURSELKJI feel I can see him. MIDWIFEKJDSo he was the fellow your dear Midwife decided to bamboozle, and I did it as I now will tell you, my dear sister. He never left the church until he was sure it had been cleared of every last woman in the place—-and especially in the church of San Salvadore, where he usually stayed longest of all. So one morning I walked right up to him and accosted him after he had been giving the come-on to some woman; pretending that I thought he was someone else, in a low voice and with a cheerful countenance I said to him: "Your Lordship should not leave, for I have worked so well for you that the woman will see you. And you can believe me when I tell you that there are plenty of other people who would have liked me to go to such trouble for them." When he heard me say this, the doughty man understood quite well that I had mistaken him for someone else and, like a perfect man of the world, didn't turn a hair but smiled brightly and said: "You have not helped an ingrate." At the same time his heart began pounding in his breast, and he started to tremble as men do when overcome by the sweetness of a pleasure they expect to experience; he stammered, and his face suddenly turned white and red. When I saw this, I trotted to the doorway and, looking up the street, saw a cheap little whore I'd engaged before coming to the church. WETNURSELKJYou know how to do it! MIDWIFELKJWhen I recognized her, I motioned to the gentleman: "There she is." He prinked his beard, rubbing it with his palm, and displaying himself like a peacock, straightened up on his legs, hawked and spit. As the nymph approached the door, I motioned more energetically; and when she entered the sanctuary, I pointed her out to him with a toss of my head, then withdrew inside just as she let a glove fall and, bending to pick it up, acted out a lovely little mishap. WETNURSEKLKJTell it to m MIDWIFE THEWhile picking up her glove, she also grasped the [ 305 ]

hem of her skirt and displayed so much of her dainty leg that the unhooded falcon could see her blue stockings and her black velvet drawers, and their charm made him gasp with lust. Then she knelt on the steps of the main altar. I kept moving, glancing all around me, and acting as though I didn't want to be seen. Finally I approached our friend and whispered: "Look at her a few times, but do it skillfully because her maid must be watching from the door." WETNURSE!JAAha! MIDWIFE HEThe gentleman obeyed me. And no sooner had he straightened his clothes than he unfurled a new gait, which awarded three steps to the ducat, two spits to the Julio, and a fleeting glance at the small change; and painting his face, eyes, cheeks, and mouth with the bedazzlement of grins and smiles, he walked past her to get a better look, halting for a moment with a gallantry that could not be ascribed to infatuation. My little whore covered only her left cheek with her fan, letting him stare at the rest of her as long as he wished. And so having examined her carefully, his eyes traveling over her two or three times from head to foot, and after having strolled up and down two or three times, he finally managed to snatch a glance at part of her not-too-lovely charms, and I, hiding behind a column, beckoned him over. When he came, I said to him: "Well, how does she look to you?" "She seems quite pretty," he replied, "but I can't or couldn't see her as I wish." "Now come," I explained to him, "I want your lordship to see her and even touch her for good and all, and whatever comes of it, comes, because if you're satisfied that's enough for me. Her husband has gone to Magliana and won't be back till vespers. So follow us quietly, but remember that I no longer live in the house I did previously and yesterday I changed my furnishings; and when you come in behind us, be sure that nobody sees you." Nurse, take my word for it, the gratias agamus would have scarcely been able to thank me as he thanked me for my "come in- behind us"; and when he heard that "be sure that when you go in nobody sees you," he shook his head as if to say: "What, you think a man like me has to be told that?" WETNURSE DI see him, I see you, I see her and her maid—-everything just as it happened. MIDWIFEAPSAs I left the church and nodded at the bad, perhaps [ 306 ]

even wicked lady, she told me with a hasty waggle of her head that she would not come. So I went to her and, with my hands crossed, my face lifted to the sky, and my neck crooked to one side, behaved as if I were begging and imploring her to come; and you may well imagine that the dupe abjured his confirmation at seeing those contortions of hers, and his heart dropped dead in his body, just as it does when a jewel that can shatter slips out of your hands. But he recovered when he saw us set out together for my house, just like someone does who wakes up and discovers that the accident he thought he experienced was only a deception. So he followed us, and you would have laughed, seeing him place the tips of his shoes in the tracks which he thought the soles of the pumps of Madonna-PlugIn-the-First-Comer had made on the street. WETNURSEESSWhat foolishness! MIDWIFEANDWhen we reached the house, I opened the door; and as I went in, I looked at the neighbors' windows to be sure they didn't see us. Seemingly quite frightened but really all excited at the idea of tricking him, I stood behind the door and pulled him jn. Then I sighed, trembled, hunched myself up, and said: "Woe is me if this is ever discovered. At least I should have confessed, considering the misfortunes that may come our way." "Precisely," he said, thinking he was going to unpack fine Spanish silk and then brag about it all over town, "there's no danger; and let's even say there was—who do you think I am?" "How do I know?" I retorted. "Well, don't worry." You're wondering what happened then? Well, he took the lady into my room, and already the flesh's temptations were projecting out of his breeches; and his hands, more presumptuous than the hands of priests and monks, were not only carrying out their inquiries on her breasts but also sub ombra alarum tuarum, as can be read on the sign of Ponzetta's apothecary's shop—he of constipated, purged, and consumptive memory. All this while I was keeping guard like the spy who, just to be overweening, keeps a poor servant away from the dining room for a week; but then I went in; and as I did, I fixed my eyes straight on the gallant gentleman's face. Opening wide my arms, I lifted my palms on high and cried in very low tones: "Alas, I am undone—wretched me, unfortunate me—I am ruined, I am dead, I am devastated." If you have ever seen [ 307 ]

a she-cat when, as she stretches out her paws to hook something, you stop her with a soft "kitty, kitty," adding to it a little cuff so that she jumps nimbly away and crouches under the bed, you would be seeing him, all bunched up in himself, unsure as to the reason for my cries. So I said: "So that is how your lordship whom I mistook for another treats me ? Should a woman be abused like this ? Please, go off wherever you wish, and when you go promise me not tc» open your mouth because, because . . . " I wanted to say that it would be my rack and ruin, but I pretended I couldn't get the words out due to the tears which I was able to start streaming from my eyes. WETNURSEEOSad is the procuress who does not know how to do that. MIDridklsadjkasdjkalsdkjlasdkasjdasjkdjasdasdljaskldasjdfdfjkljkljkffjgk he lifted his big smiling face and said: "Come now, I may not be that man, but I'm worth a thousand of his sort; and I know how to spend and squander as much as any man alive, and I don't go about trumpeting a woman's dishonor—in fact I am a better keeper of secrets than the caves in which they hide treasure. And so, my dear woman, do not torture yourself over the mishap which has overtaken you; and when you will know my qualities, you'll bless the day you mistook me for I don't care who." After this comforting I felt somewhat better and, my distress calmed, I said: "The look on your face says even more than your words, and it is all for the best. It is quite true that the great man, and I mean very, very great, to whom she had promised herself a year ago brought her a lovely present." WETjvknxcklvjjvkxclvvfijkvxc;vxvklxjv;;;;;;lkvxclv;xkvxcvxvbvcbnmm cough up, eh? MIDWIfjsklffjsdf;slkfjsdfsdfisdfsdfsdkfjsdf;snsdfsd;fsfjsdfjldfjsdkfskdjfsdklf promising me both Monte Mario and its cross, he hurled himself at the muchacha (as Don Diego said), and shutting the door behind me, I fixed the light of my eye at a crack and saw their tongues flashing like the foils of those who fence for fun, seeing it dart now in his mouth, now in hers, and I chewed on my own tongue just as though my lover's tongue were stuck in it, or in fact mine was stuck in his. And when I saw him lift her skirts, I let out a sigh as deep as those I did at the sack of Rome. But it was so lovely, it was so charming to see that gentleman's soft hand playing around her behind and thighs. [ 308 ]

And what soft, pretty little words came bubbling up out of his wit. Meanwhile the big monk banged at the door of the convent which, without too much rapping and tapping, opened up for him. And it went right in, its headpiece clashing against the angles and projections and plunging wildly on like a cretin, while Miss Quite-Content, her eyes rolling and glittering, pumping her hips and panting, was making music from the bouncing bed. But look, they've stopped— they've done it. WETNURSEASU,You're not saying that she had the flesh of Esa which, if you eat it once, you never want to eat again ? MIDkfjkfs;fdsfjsdfslfkjfs;fskdfjsd;fsjfklfj;sfsfslkfskjfsffsfsfsflksffsfsfffkllllkkj she seemed pretty good to him because he thought I had meant her for someone else. And to prove to you I'm not lying, I have as my witness the three ducats of Pope Nicholas, musty and rusty with that verdigris which coats the gold hoarded by misers, which he stuck in her fist, saying: "I want us to sleep together tomorrow night"; and he would have slept with her if the devil hadn't come between them. WETNjkldfjslfsd;fsfkfjs;fskflsdjflkjfs;fkskjlk;kl;l MIDWIFEHOWhen he left my house, he ran into a friend who said to him: "Where in God's name are you coming from? And who would ever think to meet you here! I'm sure that Midwife Bawdry has put you through the jumps." So nothing more happened, Nurse; he was told all about my profession and, being a wise man, laughed and admitted just how I had trapped him. WETfsdfsdffsffssffffffffffffffffff MIDWhfgdfgdfgdfgdgdgdhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhdfgdgdgdgdgdgdggdgdgdg age to be a procuress—and here's a military reason for it. If the man whom I'd tricked had been a hothead, I would have been given the bumps; and handing back his ducats would have been the least of it. So one must be armed with a tongue that cuts, a heart that takes risks, a presumption that penetrates, a brazen face, a step that doesn't drag, a patience that lasts, an obstinate ability to lie, a limping yes, and a four-footed no. Aha, you want to be a bawd, eh? Well, don't doubt her knowledge, for she could send the professors of students to school again. And it's not just idle talk that in the school of bawdry the sibyls, fairies, witches, phantasms, necromancers, and poetesses have all earned their degrees. [ 309 ]

WETNURSE ITI believe it.. MIDWIFEESASDThe bawd's ingenuity should be wreathed in laur canonized, and stamped in capitals everywhere. I have read the Bible, yes, my dear, I have read it, and not only the Jews but even their synagogues have fallen silent when I have shown them that the bawds plundered the brains of Solomon himself; and so you can imagine whether they laid their claws on his money too. WETNURSEED,I have even seen painted on a green, no a red, serge which came from Florence a picture showing how Solomon, pretending he was going to cut a living child in two, ordered that they give one half to each woman. So he discovered, thanks to the woman who cried out: "Let her have it all," who was the mother of the child. MIDWIFEUTHSolomon shut a whore's, not a bawd's, mouth. WETNURSEHTThey were whores; you're right. MIDWIFESLFA bawd's work is thrilling, for by making herself everyone's friend and companion, stepchild and godmother, she sticks her nose into every hole. All the new styles of dress in Mantua, Ferrara, and M,ilan follow the model set by the bawd; and she invents all the different ways of arranging hair used in the world. In spite of nature, she remedies every fault of breath, teeth, lashes, tits, hands, faces, inside and out and fore and aft. Ask her how matters stand in the heavens, and she knows as well as Guarico, the astrologist. And the abyss is all hers: she knows how many cords of wood are used to boil the cauldrons in which they parboil the souls of monsignors, and how many lumps of coal are consumed to roast the souls of gentlemen, if for no other reason because Messer Satan is her blood brother. The moon does not wax or wane without the bawd's knowledge, and the sun does not rise or set without the bawd's permission. Baptisms, confirmations, weddings, births, funerals, and widowings are all under the bawd's orders, and not one of these events ever occurs without the bawd having at least a finger in it. The bawd strikes up a conversation with all the people who pass by on the street; not to mention those who tip their caps to her or greet her with gestures, nudges, and winks. WETNURSEHATI take her for what she is worth, and I know that you want me to act like this. Go on. MIDWIFEYOUIf she runs into a policeman, she says to him: "You [ 310 ]

behaved like a real knight-errant when you caught that crook." If she meets a sneak-thief, she sidles up to his ear and whispers: "Cut that purse off neatly." Bumping straight into a nun, she bows her head, shakes it, and asks about the abbess and the fasts they observe. Now she sees a whore and stops to talk to her. The first words she throws at her head are "You are prettier than ever." If she meets a tavernkeeper, she says: "Treat the foreigners handsomely"; or a factotum: "Buy good meat"; or a tailor: "Don't skimp on cloth"; or a baker: "Don't scorch the bread"; or a boy: "You've become a little man, so study hard"; or a little girl: "You go to school, do you? Get them to teach you cross-stitching"; or a teacher: "Give them the palm of your hand and the floggings with discretion, because you can't expect the young to be wise"; or a lay brother: "So you are saying your beads instead of your office. What, can't you read?" or a peasant: "Will the crop be good this year?" or a soldier: "Will France always be plotting?" Here she meets a servant and says: "Are you still getting paid? Do you have too much work? Is your master grumpy?" Then she asks a clerk which he likes best, the Epistles or the Gospels. She encounters a rascal and suddenly gets him to shrill out the seven joys. Here she says to a little friar: "Don't shout so loud in the responses to the Mass," and "Don't light the candle until the priest gets to the elevation, because candles cost too much." She chews the fat with an old codger and says: "Don't take any vinegar, it's bad for your cough"; then she goes on to say: "Do you remember when we . . . ha?" She sees a young man and says: "Look at him! Why your mother and I were as close as flesh and fingernail. All the kisses and pats on the behind I gave you! For two years in a row you slept at my feet, and I feel that in your face I can see her spitting 'image." Now she meets a young rake and says to him: "I have found a pretty piece of fluff who'd regale a count"; and hardly does she lay eyes on a hermit than she says, sighing: "The Lord has touched your heart, and to us he has left the trivialities of this world." She chances to run into a widow and starts, crying with her over the husband who died on her ten years ago. She meets a brigand and says: "Let's forget the minor rows"; comes upon a monk and asks him whether next year Lent will come late. WETNURSEASDYes indeed, now you've listed all of them. [ 311 ]

MIDWIFEEKJDo you think a bawd starts gossiping with all those people for the fun of it? You're all wrong. She does it for that allinclusive understanding she tries to achieve with all sorts and conditions of men and women, and in order to become known from the woods to the seashore. And I have just told you the little things the bawd does during the day, but now let's come to her nighttime deeds. WETNURSEJHJYes, if you will. MIDWIFEAY.At night the bawd is like a bat that never stops fly-. ing; and when owls, horn-owls, screech-owls, and scops-owls leave their nests, then the bawd comes out of hers too and goes flitting through the monasteries, convents, courts, brothels, and every single tavern. Here she picks up a nun, there a monk. To one man she offers a whore, to another a widow, to the third a wife, and to the fourth a virgin. She satisfies the servants with some master's maids, and consoles the stewards with So-and-So's wife. She casts a spell on wounds, gathers herbs, exorcises ghosts, breaks off the jaws of dead men, pulls stockings off the hanged, consecrates cards, reads the stars, dissolves planets, and now and then she gets beaten by clubs. WETNURSEP?Just like that, beaten up?? MIDWIFEEMIt's impossible to please everyone and at the same time to handle all of them adroitly. But patience, as the wolf said to the donkey. My dear little sister, one must imitate the ways of the fox, who not only knows all there is to know but even a trifle more. Yet sometimes they are driven out of their burrows with smoke, trapped by nets, and snatched up in the opening of a sack. And how many foxes lose half of their pelt, part of a tail, or an ear, torn off by the dog's teeth? Yet they still lurk about the houses and ravage the chicken coops. As you see, after comparing the bawd to the doctor, I now compare her to a fox. And mark this well, the bawd does nq£ pester the widow, maiden, wife, or nun (I'm not mentioning whores) in her own district. The fox does not steal chickens in his own region, and he acts out of cunning since, if he did steal them, they would be right on his tail. WETNURSELKVulpine viciousness, eh?? MIDWIFEELEThe fox slips in among the stupid chickens, and the first one he kills is the rooster, so that his co-co-co won't rouse the sleeping hens. The bawd, with her precautions, strikes down, stifles, [ 312 ]

and destroys every breath of scandal; so that when she's discovered by a brother, husband, or father chatting with Milady Free-ass, she can even shrug her shoulders. And just as the fox runs the risks of his vices, so the bawd, with his example before her, is emboldened to face her trials. I will tell you a ribaldry, due to which I gave myself to the devil and made a few muleteers bust their guts laughing. WETNURSEEHa ha! I'm laughing even before you tell it.IT MIDWIFEEKJLI feel my soul slip through my fingers when I thin that whatever blissful beatitude there is in the bawd's profession has been robbed from us by ladies, sires, messers, courtiers and courtesans, confessors and nuns. And know this, Nurse: thest days amateiir panders and pimps rule the world. They are dukes, they are marquises, they are counts and cavaliers; and I would even go so far as to say kings, popes, emperors, grand Turks, cardinals, bishops, patriarchs, sultans, and all other dignitaries. Our reputation has gone for a stroll, and we are no longer what we used to be. Oh, I remember when our art flourished. WETNURSEKLJ Well, isn't it still flourishing, since it is plied by all the persons you mention? MIDWIFEOUTYes, for them, but not for us. All that's left on our backs is the infamy of the bawd's bad name, whereas they are swollen up with rank, favors, and income. And don't think for a moment that it is virtues which magnify and exalt others in this piggish Rome and everywhere else; tyro pandering holds their stirrups, dresses them in velvets, stuffs their purses, and has hats doffed to them. But I am one of those women who have courage and can read other people's thoughts, and then act accordingly. You have good origins, a fine appearance, a gracious manner, lively conversation, wit at the right time —in short, graceful speech above all, something sweet in your banter. You are full of sayings, proverbs; you are presumptuous, two-faced, an eagle-eyed watcher of what everyone is up to; you know how to flatter, to deny like a thief. The lie is your right eye. You get along with every generation, and you stick to your own; you know how to get drunk at other people's wine casks, gorge yourself at other people's tables. You can fast without vigil at your own house: and with all these good qualities of yours, combined with the little or much you can borrow from mine, I think we can make a go of it. [ 313 ]

WETNURSEHATYou are nice to say this, and I'm not so dotty that I can't see that I have none of these good qualities. But I have hopes of doing something with myself thanks to your teachings. MIDWIFEWE?You surely can have them. But where were we? WETNURSEKPAt the muleteers' fox. MIDWIFESFAFa ha ha! And it was quite funny. An old fox, a hoary scoundrel, nastier, more crafty and depraved than the one who said to brother wolf, while the poor fool was plunging down in the bucket that was hoisting him up from the well: "The world is like a staircase, one goes up while the other goes down." WETNURSED;LHe ran away and left him there. What else do you want to add? MIDWIFEA;KThe fox of foxes, suddenly getting a desire to eat a bellyful of fish, went to the lake at Perugia with the grandest thievery in mind that a thief ever imagined. And as he stood there for a while pondering on the shore, his tail at peace, his sharp muzzle outthrust and his ears pricked, he saw, coming at a slow gait a gang of muleteers, who were chatting away (while the mules all tied on the same rope were chomping at a handful of hay put in the bags they wear on their mouths) about the scarcity of mullet and the abundance of pike, singing great praise of a certain species of tench they had devoured that morning with cabbage and savory sauce, while also preparing to strangle a huge eel as soon as their mules were unloaded. And when the sly fox saw what he did, he grinned and flung himself down on the road as if dead. When he heard them come near, he held his breath as a man does when he dives under water, stretched out his legs and spread them apart, and did not move them any more or less than if he were truly done for. The mules, which saw him from some distance, shied away from him since their sensibilities were keener than the muleteer's, who when they finally saw him began to shout that "Oh! Oh! Oh!" which leaps out of the moutfi of a man who sees hares run through a field of wheat about a foot or so high. Then they rushed in a cluster to catch him and sell his skin. And since they all lunged for him at the same time, each man wanting him for himself, they just missed hacking each other to pieces with their hooks. All were shouting in a muleteerish bellow: "I saw it first" and "I grabbed it before you." They would have had a real battle if [ 314 ]

one of the older men hadn't thought of a solution: he put a black stone among a lot of white ones and shook them for some time in a hat; then each one took his chance. After the lucky man was chosen, the others calmed down. WETNURSEUPIMany times the silliest things can have their upshot in swords and spears. MIDWIFEHATThe man who won the fox touched it and felt that it was still warm. "By God," he exclaimed, "this fox died just now, and from being too fat, so far as I can see." And having said that he laid it on top of his mule's baskets and went back to the others, who, all anger spent, continued their journey with the usual accord and in the accustomed fashion, to the fox's profit. Not being watched, he rolled over quietly and, propelled by hunger and greed, gnawed a hole in the fellow's fish. After ruining all that was left in both baskets, he leaped as foxes do when they bound over a ditch, hearing theFFhuffbaff-bifINGGof the dogs at their heels; and one of the muleteers, noticing this, shouted: "Damn it, the fox!" and ran to where they had laid the animal they thought was dead. He was gone, much to the scorn of the bully who wanted to fight over him. Then they had to laugh on the other side of their faces, like Morgante. WETNURSETTEYou mean to say Margutte. MIDWIFENTENo, Morgante! WETNURSEA;LKMargutte, Margutte. MIDWIFEAnyway, here's one of my own dodges, no lessLES crafty than vulpine craftiness, which I managed to put over without being troubled by the slightest old fear. A genteel young gentleman, between twenty-nine and thirty, had it bad, very bad for a beautiful, respectable widow, very rich and very virtuous, with whom I was on rather intimate terms. Having heard people talk of my fame in our art, he came to me shattered, haggard, so downhearted about his fate that he would not have pursed his mouth to smile even at seeing one of those Germans dressed up as a prelate, mitre in hand and astraddle a mule in illo tempore. And I who saw everything and did not let on that I saw it, comforted him by saying: "So Your Highness lets despair maul him, and what should the really unlucky do when a handsome young man as rich as a sultan becomes so dejected?" But he could not answer me, owing to the Moorish dance his sighs were [ 315 ]

weaving in and out of his words. He stared up at the sky, ground his teeth, said: "So be it," and that wore him out. Just then a swallow flying by shat on my shoulder and I cried out: "That's a good omen." He lifted his head, completely recovered, and asked: "But why is it a good omen?" "Because the swallow, which torments itself continually, has given me a sign that your torment will come to an end." WETNURSENS?What ? You believe in omens ? MIDWIFEHTEI certainly believe in dreams; but may I die of the plague if I put my trust in omens! But you've got to use them so people will have confidence in you. I never see a crow or a raven without interpreting why it turned its tail down over its ass or why it didn't. If a feather drops from a flying bird or from a crowing rooster, I catch it on the fly and put it away for a thousand dirty tricks which I lead these fatheads to believe I know how to perform. If they are flaying a ram or a ewe, I am right there to carry off the fat. If they're burying somebody, I snip off a bit of something of his. If they're cutting down the hanged, I snitch a few hairs or whiskers. And with these oddities I skin alive this or that simpleton who wants to have all the beauties he sees by means of spells; and I shall teach you, if you wait, the enchantment of the beans, how one flings them, the prayer that goes with it, the whole rigmarole. WETNURSEASLKYou took the words out of my mout. MIDWIFEINTI also claim to be able to foretell the future, but in another fashion from the gypsies who see it in the palm of your hand. And all the thievish prognostications I make from knowing the science of physiognomy! And there's not an illness I cannot cure either with words or recipes, and scarcely has someone said: "I have suchand-such an illness" than I give him the appropriate remedy; and Saint Apollonia has not as many votive offerings attached to her feet as I sometimes have requests to stop toothaches. And if you have «ever seen the wretched crew that waits for the monks' scullion to come out with cauldrons of broth, you have seen the mob which early in the morning holdi court at my door. One man wants me to speak to a certain woman who, two days ago, he saw in such-and-such a place; another wants me to deliver a letter; a woman has sent her maid for the pomade that removes hair from the face; while still another woman comes in person to ask me to cast a spell for her. But I am [ 316 ]

carding very fine silk, for I am trying to tell you everything to which I have turned a hand., WETNURSEIN-Why I wouldn't exchange this for Lanciano, Ricanati, and all the other fairs in the world. MIDWIFENDERI have left the straight and narrow path to wand in the tilled field. But I was starting to tell you about the man who clutched the hope aroused by the stain of the swallow that shat on my shoulder. WETNURSEDITThat word "shat" ill becomes your mouth, and it seems that in these days one must spit manna if one does not want to attract the curses of those harpies who stun the bakeshops and markets with their carping. It's a strange thing that one cannot even say ass, cunt, and prick. MIDWIFESEFLA hundred times I have tried to explain to myself on whose account we must be ashamed to mention that which nature is not ashamed to create. WETNURSE:ITI have thought about that too, and even more: itT seems to me that it would be more honest to show the prick, cunt, and ass than the hands, mouth, and feet. MIDWIFEEWhy?Y? WETNURSE - Because the prick, cunt, and ass do not curse, bite, or spit in one's face as mouths do. They don't kick like feet, or lend themselves to false oaths, belabor with clubs, steal, and murder like hands. MIDWIFEKUIOne should always talk to all kinds of people because everybody can teach you something. You have a good tongue, you have brains, you are going the right way; and no doubt a great wrong has been done the cunt and prick, which deserve to be adored and worn around the neck like jewels and pendants, and hung on the medals that bedeck caps, not so much for the pleasure they pour out as their innate value. Why, look at this painter sought out by everyone just because he can daub on a canvas or a board pictures of a handsome young man and a pretty young girl, and he is paid in good gold to paint them in colors. Whereas the cunt and prick can bring them alive in the flesh, which can then be embraced, kissed, and enjoyed. What's more, cunts and pricks make emperors, kings, popes, dukes, marquises, counts, barons, cardinals, preachers, poets, astrolo[ 317 ]

gers, soldiers, and they've even made you and me, which is what matters most. Yes, they do them a great wrong not only by hiding their names but by not singing them out in a stirring song. WETNURSEGHThat's true enough. MIDWIFEWASNow back to the fellow whose passion hammer was throbbing. When I lifted his spirits with the bird's dung, he took my hand and closed it around a ducat. I quickly said: "There's no need; I am going to do something else for your'tordship," as doctors and bawds always say. But I pocketed it and, turning to him with a friendlier face than before, said: "I promise and swear to you that I shall do everything I can . . . " But when I added a "but" and a "perhaps," he went white and said: "Why are you slipping in a perhaps and but?" "Because," I replied, "this is a very difficult and dangerous affair"; and I wasn't joking, for no bawd had ever tried to approach her, since she had a brother, a soldier, whose beard and sword would make summer shiver and winter sweat. And he, seeing me in the end trying to wriggle out of it, stuck another ducat in my hand; and I, murmuring "You do too much," put it next to its companion, and then I said: "Don't worry, for I have thought of a great and effective stratagem. That is, I haven't really thought of it now, but I'll think about it tonight and I'll surely find it. Just tell me her name, where she lives, and what family she belongs to." He began to masticate wormwood, twist and turn, and couldn't quite make up his mind to tell me, but finally he made an effort and spat it out. WETNURSEUPCome, hurry up. MIDWIFEDK;Now go slow, Nurse. Stories must be told the1 way they happen. Well, when I heard who the goddess was, I tightened my lips, raised my eyebrows, wrinkled my forehead, and with a great sigh took the two ducats out of my neck purse, gazed at them, fondled them, and behaved as though I were undecided about giving them back to him; and he, who didn't want them back, was sweating. In the meantime I said to him: "My dear sir, these things can sweep us away," and then: "If it were almost any other woman, I could lay her down beside you in eight days." Should I tell you the truth? A little ducat, which I put together with the first two, made up my mind for me. So I promised him to do it and told him to walk past her house the next day after vespers. [ 318 ]

WETNURSEEILYou did well. MIDWIFEK;LThe young widow was going to marry again, and I knew it because I happened to have had a hand in the marriage. So I took a box full of curls just the same shade as her hair and went immediately to knock at her door. Well, to tell it to you straight, I was on good terms with the lady; and my client knew it quite well, though he pretended hot to, so as to go along with my fib. And when I knocked it was my good luck that she herself pulled the cord, thinking I was a Jew whom her mother had sent to bring her the curls. WETNURSE;ORCoincidences come in bunches, when at other times you wait a year and nothing happens. MIDWIFESHEIt's true. Well, after I had put my foot inside, she said with great glee to her mother: "Good luck is coming our way —here's the midwife." So I went up the stairs and bowed a thousand times to the mother, who had appeared at the top, touched hands with the daughter, and panting, sat down to catch my breath. After I had rested a while, I opened the box and said: "My dear and lovely ladies, don't let these curls, which you can have for a crust of bread, slip out of your hands"; and moving over to the old woman's ear, I whispered to her: "They come from the head of a marchesa." Just then someone, I don't know who, called the mother and so I was alone with the daughter; and you may well believe that I covered her with compliments to her charm, her sweet ways, and her beauty: "What bright eyes! What fresh cheeks! What black brows! What a high forehead! What rosy lips!" I said, adding: "What fragrant breath, what breasts, what hands!" And she kept squirming with her whole body, absolutely radiant. But back came her mother all distraught, and from what I learned later her perturbation was caused by a messenger who'd come to call off the marriage; but that didn't ruin my designs on her, for the young widow told me: "Come back tomorrow; because I want the curls anyway." And so I returned, and since the mother was closeted with a woman who wanted to patch up the marriage, I had three whole hours with her. She gave me a snack to eat and took me to her room, saying: "Leave the curls with me because I will surely buy them." And since that's all I wanted, I 16ft them, and walking her to the window, I said: "Oh what a lovely view. My goodness, what a fine street! Don't a lot of people go by here?" And while she was [ 319 ]

gaily looking here and there, I saw our lovelorn fellow and broke into a laugh which was the most gape-mouthed and resonant laugh you ever heard. And so I laughed, laughed, and laughed, and the more I laughed, the more I felt like laughing; and the widow, not knowing why, began to laugh too, and asked me: "What are you laughing at? If you really liked me, you'd tell me." And I replied with a "Ha ha ha!" giving her such a great desire to know that it would have left its mark on the baby of any pregnant woman. WETNURSEER?Why all the laughter? MIDWIFENDAShe kept on begging and I kept on laughing. An certainly, Nurse, all the rope I paid out, which also gave me the pleasure of her supplications, would have strangled one of those traitorous thieves who, even while on the gallows, are not moved by the bitter threats of the police chief and the governor; and just as only tears can be wrenched from a filthy glutton, so she got only belly laughs from me. But I told you some lies. WETNURSEES?What lies? MIDWIFELJDIt wasn't the day after my laughing but the third day, for the second day I returned to hit on a pleasant way to point out to her the man who was wild for her and was wearing down the street by strolling continually up and down, though she had never noticed him. And since I put that flea in her ear, she could no longer sleep at night she was so anxious to find out what I had laughed at; nor did she overlook a single flaw she had, thinking that that's why I laughed. And she pestered her'mother so much that she forced her not just to summon me but actually to come in person. And the mother rapped on my door just as I was telling her daughter's suitor what I had accomplished. And since he had seen me with the widow at the window, he believed six or seven little fibs which I made up for him on the spot. WETNURSEGHServes the simpleton right. MIDWIFEESSI admitted the mother and with a real whoremistress' bow said to her: "Your humanity puts to shame my asininity, which can tolerate the fact so wonderful a woman deigns to visit your servant in this hovel"; and she who had been hammered at by her daughter, a widow after the first year, begged me to go and see her immediately. Realizing that my loud belly laughs had put her in a [ 320 ]

passionate sweat, I replied: "Now look, I'll go to her instantly." But I didn't, so that she would be even more anxious for me to come. WETNURSEOURDidn't you tell the man the reason for you laughter? MIDWIFEELL.You know very well. WET NURSEH?So tell me, why did you laugh? MIDWIFE THSSo that my procuring would go straight to th salvum me fac. I was afraid of her brother, who every now and then returned home. I was also afraid her mother wouldn't fall for the trick, and I was worried that my little widow, when her honor was at stake, would tear my eyes out with her fingers. And so I used a stratagem you shall hear. WETNURSEANCunning conquers good sense, but good sense cannot defeat cunning. MIDWIFEAN-I went there two days later to see her, meanwhile wreathing his passion in leaves of hope—I mean leaves that are more green than withered. And when I appeared before her, she said: "Blessed is she who can lay eyes on you"; and I said: "My daughter and sweet mistress, sad is the person who is born poor and misfortunate; she must spit in her hands if she wants to eat and drink, and God knows how many times I have fasted without a vow. But so long as my soul is saved, I don't care about my body." And while I was telling her a thousand lies, her mother was busy putting the house in order. Then I strolled over to the window and started laughing again in the usual way, and she rushed to me, flung herself at me, clasped an arm around my neckband kissed me. Then she said: "Certainly you have roused my suspicions with that laugh of yours, and I haven't slept for several nights past because of the longing that has gripped me to know why you laugh so much and then look at me and this part of town." WETNURSE'L!!What chicanery! MIDWIFEAS IJust then, as she asked me that question, our aspirant walked past; and I laughed the very same laugh, so much it seemed I was about to burst. "Come, Midwife," she cried, "rid me of my anxiety, stop dangling me on this rope. Come, tell me what makes you laugh." "Madame," I replied, "I cannot tell you, no,-by my faith, for if I could you wouldn't have to beg me, not at all, may D 321 ]

the Lord keep me!" Now, have you ever seen one of these importunate beggars, more presumptuous than annoying? WETNURSEEKJKDL;FKL MIDWIFE OFIf you have seen the poor man who in the teeth of all charity grabs the alms out of your hand, then you see her snatch from my tongue the reason for my laughter. It is true that first I forced her to swear a thousand oaths that she would not breathe a word or become angry about it and would in fact forgive me. And after making her swear and implore, even going so far as to say: "May the devil be master of my body and soul," which one usually says when one wants to be believed, I said to her: "He is an awkward oaf, a fathead who attempts the impossible, though in other matters he is wise and pleasant. When he saw me come out of this house, open to me at all hours through your grace and not by my merits, he followed me; and though he is one of the noblest, most gallant, and handsomest men on earth, he had the nerve to ..." Here I broke off in order to make her burn to hear the rest; and after a while, when she had begged me some more, I wound up: "He had the nerve to ask me to deliver a message to you." WETNURSEwkjkljskdhjLDJKLDKKLDJKLSDJLSDLKSDL;SDKSLD mistresses. MIDWIFEKDFJKDJFSKFJLFK;DFKDFK';SDKF;LSDFSKF;LSLJ i replied. "Do you think I'm a bawd? And that she's a ... eh? You would be in a fine fix if I told her brother. So go about your business —go I say, for if you don't, you'll be sorry." I looked at her and said softly: "My lady, I am your slave, and I mean to show him both your kindness and mine." She blushed at hearing me tell my treacherous tale; and then she paused for a while, brooding, bewildered, and at last said to me: "Don't say a word to anyone." And I answered: "Your hints are my commands; but he can't stand it any more. He thinks that just because he's a tilter, an acrobat, a singer, a composer, dancer, molder of fashion, jewel box, and money chest, you must die running after him—the fool, the simpleton! But now your ladyship must give me back the curls, for the owner has requested them or the money." She didn't answer but went on brooding, looking at me, who, seeing Messer I-Can't-Find-Peace walk past her door, didn't laugh this time but with the expression of [ 322 ]

an excommunicated wretch picked up a tile left on the window by the maid, who had used it to crack nuts, and made as though I intended to split his head with it But she cried: "No, for the love of God," caught my arm, and let out a huge sigh. I said to myself, "I've got you now," and as though I didn't want either the curls or her company, ran down the stairs and pretended I had forgotten to shut the door behind me. And when I found him he doubted both the good news and the bad and seemed to want a hundred ears to listen to me and desired to be deaf at the same time; but I put on a gay expression, which cheered him up. When I had told him the whole story, I saw him untie his handkerchief and give me some ducats without counting them, as a man hands them to his lawyer after he has won him a suit. WET NURSEGOIf anyone would have said to me two days ago: "The wisest female head alive is going to die," I would have thought it referred to mine and would have gone immediately to confession. But you're the one who ought to go. MIDWIFE MYI had to return to the widow. After listening to my story of her suitor's good qualities and wealth, told in such a way that I seemed to mock them, her feelings'underwent a change, as people change after handling someone else's ducats. When she inveigled me into conversing with her, I began that laughter again, but more ludicrous than ever; and after having subjected her to this for a bit, I said: "What should I tell you? That dandy, that god of love, wanted me to stick, in fact he stuck, a letter in my bosom, and it perfumed the whole church where I threw it away together with its odor. Oh, what a golden superscription it had! I think I could not restrain myself from doing some mischief. I've come to a bad pass with him; he is always at my heels, persecuting me, and I can't take a step without that hound dog on my trail. Because of this cross which I must bear, my lady, believe me when I swear that I was going to take the letter and do with it ... I won't say what." "You should have done it," she said, "and if it ever happens that he wants to give it again, bring it here, to me and we'll have a -little laugh over it together." My dear nurse, I brought her the letter; and since it would have moved a mountain, it moved her too. And they arranged another sort of marriage from that she'd been trying to arrange [ 323 ]

through that mob of go-betweens; and so my cleverness conquered .chastity, though I acted the bawd without bawdry—an art that is subtler than the weaving of silk and is at once learned, laudable, and absolutely trustworthy. WETNURSDRKFL;THSLJFSRASHLKFSKFLKF MIDWDKFJLASKDFJSKFKDLKJKMFEKAFNFJKDFSDFSKFSLKFD staring at a very grand lady of the town, he had fallen in love but without hopes of anything else; and he told me that if I wished I could take him to paradise. He explained his wish's why and how, gave me a ducat, in fact two ducats, and got me to promise to speak to the aforementioned lady. And as he was preparing to tell me the church where she always attended Mass, the altar she knelt at, and the praying-stool she sat on, I took the words right out of his mouth and said: "I know quite well who she is, church, altar, and prayingstool, but I am not a bawd. However, from your lordship's aspect I feel you should be helped and so no later than tomorrow at vespers I should be able to comfort you with some good news." This decent, good-looking man was not a Roman and, not being at all familiar with us bawds, he let himself be convinced that I had actually spoken to her and that she had said: "If he had dallied any longer, I would have been forced to send him the very message he has sent me." WETNURSEKDHe who believes blindly won't be treated kindly. Tha t , ishe' sSDFSDF . Sl MIDWIFEIEJ;DLFCANKFFDKFLSDFJKIHJOSSKDFHEKLSDFKJLK he was loved by his beloved! He could barely stay in his skin. Gaiety held open house in the salon of his breast, and his heart danced at the deceptive wedding he now believed in. Meanwhile I, who found him a good sort, composed a graceful little missive and said in her name: My dear Sir: When shall I ever be able to pay my debt to fortune, the stars, the heavens, and the planets, which have made me worthy of being the servitor of your sweetness? I may well call myself happy, indeed blessed, that the generosity of so young a man permits me to adore him. Oh, miserable me, if you were not as compassionate as you are handsome, as handsome as you are kind! Ladies in all the towns must envy this love which, [ 324 ]

// I may enjoy it, I would not change my lot with that of an empress. And if perchance you do not come tonight to the place and at the hour of which the trusted bearer of this letter will inform you, I shall surely kill myself. And so that it would seem that the paper was moistened with her tears, I sprinkled it with water; and after having added all the ceremonial superscriptions and signatures, I took it to him. WET NURSE Oh, ah! MMNFLDKFLSLFDKJSLKDFLKSFDSIODFSKLDFJSDKLFLKSFJLK blessings and the letter kisses, I would be well fixed. He trembled with happiness and couldn't even open it; then, after opening it, he read it and stopped after every word saying: "Midwife, I will not be ungrateful. Your ladyship shall find out the sort of man I am." I 'thanked him and told him that at eight o'clock he should go to a certain place and wait for me there. After having nabbed two more crowns, I left the beatus personage, who summoned the barber and got him to fashion him an old-fashioned head of hair with bits of cloth and hot irons, which he always carried with him. Then, changing his shirt, he drenched himself in perfume and put on a doublet of purple velvet covered with hammered silver spangles, completely frilled and fringed, dined only on fresh eggs and cardoons spiced with great quantities of pepper, and reasoning with that recklessness which one sees in a man who has gotten news that fits his desires, sent a servant out purposely to hear the striking of the hour. It was already six o'clock, and so he could no longer hold himself in check but picked up his sword and cape, glancing first at a necklace that was worth about twelve or fourteen ducats, which he took along to give to her, together with a small ruby which came to about five or six ducats. And so he left his lodgings, bringing along his worthy servant. And when he got to the place I had set for the appointment, the clock struck seven and I didn't come; it struck eight and still I did not appear. WETNURSETHHe was waiting for the dove—I mean to say the blackbird. MIDWIFERTENow listen, after the clock struck eight, he started saying: "You didn't count them right. Christ Himself could not con[ 325 ]

vince me there were more than seven." "Master," the servant answered, "there were eight." "Fool," the gentleman said, "I heard seven." And he began pacing up and down, and at the slightest little noise he heard would cry: "There she is! Of course she couldn't come any sooner." And as he said this he paced up and down a few more times and then halted and said to his servant: "I believe the old woman honestly intended to come, but sometimes there are mishaps and so one can't keep an appointment. I'm thinking of myself. Sometimes I'm all dressed to go out and a chance visitor delays me for two hours." WETNURSEEAKDFJSKFLSKLDFSLSFKSL MIDWIFE;LKWhile he was in this frenetic state, behold, the clock struck nine and he cried: "Virgin whore! If I have been tricked, by the honor of heaven, if that thieving bawd has made me stay here, I shall give her so many wounds, I shall give her so many— But wait, wait. So I am a man to be mocked and played with, eh?" And he began pacing again, soughing like a man who realizes he has been left in the lurch; and since he felt that I shouldn't nor couldn't fail to come, he took three paces forward to return home, and four back to wait for me where I had told him to. And this to-and-fro movement made him look not like one of those buffaloes that race in the Palio but like someone who does not know which would be better for him—to go or stay. Meanwhile the freezing wind lashed at him, its blast burnt his ears and face, and he kept biting his lips, spewing brand-new curses from his mouth. Finally, his mind made up by the clock striking eight, nine, and ten, he cried "Alas" for a good piece of the road, went back to where he had come from, flung his cape and sword on the floor, gritted his teeth, and shouted: "What! Shouldn't I cut off her nose? Shouldn't I give her two hundred lashes? Shouldn't I gnaw away her cheek? Filthy lying bawd!" And getting into bed he made it creak with his twisting, lying first on one side, then on the other, writhing like a snake between the sheets, scratching his head, biting his fingers, taking swipes at the air, lifting a painful lament. To make his passion pass he sent for his landlady to sleep with him; but since the irritation one feels when one has just done it with a woman simply in order to get rid of the torment one suffers because of another woman whom one [ 326 ]

is infatuated with is incredible, after having shoved it into her, he could not bear to have her lying there beside him and chased her away. Then he waited for daybreak, which, he felt, took a month to come. As soon as it did, he jumped out of bed and raced to my house; and knowing who it was banging angrily at my door, I laughed to myself and opened the door to hear him fulminate: "So this is how it is, eh? Who do you think you're dealing with?" "With one of the most courteous, respectable gentlemen in all of Italy," I replied, "and I'm amazed that your lordship rushes in such a fury to attack someone who is so fond of you. And you can have my word for it, you certainly can: go and pester the nobles, go! I waited for you till dawn, and I got frozen stiff from the cold, just to serve you, and I haven't done a thing against you." WETNURSEDFKJDFLKDJFLJSDKLFJLKSDJFL;KSDJFKLSDFJLK; sound in the right! DJSAMDAKSJDHJASDHJASKJASDHASKJDAMDKJAASLASDJAKSDK eight, nine, and ten, and you didn't come." "When did you leave?" I asked. "When it finished striking ten." "Weil, just as the bell stopped tolling, I got there, and then waited and waited—you could at least have waited for me! And to tell your lordship the truth, I washed her with these very hands, using rosewater, not ordinary water, and while I was cleaning her nipples, tits, loins, and neck, I was amazed by their softness and whiteness. The bathwater was tepid and the fire lit, and so I was to blame for all the trouble, for as I washed her thighs, her melons, and her cute little slit, I almost fainted from the unbearable sweetness of my pleasure. Oh what delicate flesh! Oh what white limbs! What a beautiful body! Nobody can afford such flesh. I palped it, kissed it, and fondled it just once, all the time talking about you." But why drag it out? I got him so worked up that he lifted his third leg and, letting himself fall on top of me, gave me the kind of screw that one could call a super-screw, not just a run-of-the-mill one. WETNURSEAKHa ha ha! You'll make me croak. MIDWIFEKLDFJSJFKLSDFSDLKFJSDLKFJSSLKDFJLKSDJFSDJFJ method! The truth is that all the most succulent mouthfuls are gulped down by the cooks; and we bawds, while plying our profession, enjoy the same delights as the man who makes waffles—he eats all those [ 327 ]

that break. In fact we have the same enjoyment as jesters, who eat and dress with their lords' clothes and food. Having satisfied his whim and frigged off his lust on me, he got so angry at seeing me leer at this that at that very hour and instant he vanished from my sight and I have never laid eyes on him again. WETNURLKFJLKSDJFKSDJFKLSDLKSDFKLSJFLS MIDWIFDKLSFJIOEJUFKSLFLKSDJLKFJSDLKFJLKSDJFSLKDFJS nobleman almost went crazy. The man I'm talking about fell in love with a bewitching bit of fluff, though she wasn't so small you couldn't find her in bed. But she was quite graceful, all wit and charm, with flashing glances and giggles, certain delightful movements, modes, and gestures that bespangled her behavior and so thrilled everyone's heart. Well, this bigwig was set afire by this woman and, by opening his purse to her and me, he finally got possession of her. In fact, I let him have her five or six times, whenever he wished; but only during the day, sometimes early in the morning or late in the afternoon, at nine or vespers, in such a way that the avidity to get her he showed at first would suddenly pass, and he would caress her more for the sake of appearances than because of his great love. And then, almost to play with her, he begged her to come to his house and sleep with him, and she told me all about it. So I decided to let him starve for her for a while, so that he would be more inclined to submit to our demands, told her to promise him to come to the house of a neighbor woman at midnight, and then to stand him up six nights in a row. He got through the first night with no difficulty; the second night he left with a touch of desire; on the third the oven began to get hot and his sighs came out in serried ranks; on the fourth anger and jealousy occupied the field; on the fifth rage and fury thrust weapons into his hands; and on the sixth and final night everything was shattered: his patience was ousted, his intellect went berserk, his tongue slashed, his breath burned, his brains were unhinged. And the bridle of respect having been broken, he burst into the house and with threats, shrieks, tears, groans, and desperation waited there for her; but this was a much different sort of lust from that experienced by the fellow who climbed on me while waiting for the woman who never came. And thinking that she failed to come because he had given me too little money, he said so, gave me more, and both [ 328 ]

badgered and coaxed me. He spoke to his inamorata; and when he complained bitterly, he heard her swear that it wasn't her fault because her mother watched her like a hawk. "What's more, the potion you gave me to put her to sleep," she told him, "tasted bitter to her, so she got suspicious and wouldn't go to sleep for all the gold in the world until she saw me tucked in bed." And when she promised plainly and clearly to visit him that night and then did not appear, it was both an amusement and an affliction to see a man of his eminence rush to the window a hundred times in a minute, saying: "What time is it? Here she comes! She can't be long. I know she won't fail me, because she gave me her oath." Every bat that flittered by seemed to be her coming; and after waiting a while, and then some more and after that another hour, he finally began to pant, fret, and rave like a prisoner who hears the warden tell him: "Get yourself ready," and then brings in the confessor. When the time for the appointment was long past, he threw himself fully dressed on his bed, and neither prone nor supine nor lying on his side could he rest enough so that his eyes would close. His thoughts were always stuck firmly on the woman who had made a fool of him. He got up, paced to and fro, returned to the window, got back in bed, and just as he was about to fall asleep from exhaustion, started up and got out of bed with a sigh, for it was already full day. The time to eat came, and when he got a whiff of the food it made his stomach turn; he tasted a mouthful and spat it out as if it were poison. He ran away from his friends; if someone sang, he felt as if he were being transfixed; if someone laughed, he held it against him. He forgot to comb his beard, wash his face, or change his shirt. He went about by himself, and while his thoughts, his heart, his imagination and brain all contributed to his delirium, he dropped down more dead than alive. And forever building gardens in the air he never brought anything to a conclusion: he wrote letters then tore them up, sent messages and was sorry he did, now he implored, and now he threatened, for a while he hoped and for a while he despaired—and always his fatalistic "That's how it is" was there, all ready for him. WETNURSEKJLI am going through it all as you tell me what happened, and sad indeed is the person who suffers such torments. [ 329 ]

The martyrdom to which love subjects the enamored is harsh and terrible. Oh God, what a state of mind to be in: everything irritates him—honey tastes bitter, rest wearies, eating is a fast, drinking a thirst, and to sleep is to remain awake. MIDWIF;KLFJLSJKFKLSDJFLKJSDLKFJLKSDFFKLSFKFSNDFL,SF sembled almost anything but a man. When he looked in a mirror, he could not recognize himself; and certainly I did not put him through these torments because I wanted to harm him—I just wanted to try out a recipe for driving men into a passion. So, Nurse, since it worked for me, you can use it; and you will get what you wish from the men who are brought to this pass. WETNURSEJLJAfterward did you take pity on him? MIDWIFEJJLKYes, you know very well I did. WETNULKDFJSDNFLKSJFKLJSLKDF MIDWIJFISDFSFNSD,MNFLKSDVLKSNMLKVSKLDFSKLDFNSDLK when I saw him tighten his fist with me, I would pull in the reins, and when he loosened his fist I would let them slacken. WETNUFNSDKJFNKSFKSNKLJSFSKJFKLSFLKFJOIFJLKSFSLKD loosens his fist. MIDWILJKFNSDLKVLSKVLKSDFMSD,FJSDLFJSDFNMSDKLFNMK miracle which transforms a man who gets back his woman is truly great. It is quite true that no sooner does he kiss and embrace her again than the color returns to his face, the strength to his body, gaiety to his brow, laughter to his eyes, and hunger, thirst, and discourse to his mouth; his good sense leads him back to friendship, and music, dances, and songs please him. And, to tell it to you in one phrase, he is revived more quickly than he died. WETNNFKLSFJIOLSFKLSDFMLKSDFJSLKSDNFLKSDUFSDFKL MIDWIFNSLDKFJSNFSLDKFJLISFNNSDLFUJSFSHDFSHJFSDFSFD would not have given the place beside the wall to the glory of Parmigiano, Pope Julius' chamberlain, was told by a servant of his that when he passed by all the courtesans and gentlewomen of the region were ready to throw themselves out of the window for love of him. So he bought up as many quilts and mattresses as he could find with the idea of having them carried behind him when he went for a stroll, so that the women wouldn't get hurt when they jumped down. He dallied with all of them, and play-acted the desperate [ 330 ]

lover with each; he was always out serenading, wrote love letters at every hour of the day, and recited sonnets. But all of a sudden he would leave some friend of his and run to talk with the parcelbawds; since he had fucked all these ladies only with his eyes, he wound up blowing off real steam in the Banchi whorehouses. And I played a very sweet trick on him. WETNURSEDKI am your slave in chains, for I would consider myself a countess if I saw you fling one of those riggish wretches in the shithouse! And there are so many of them! MIDNFSDJFSDKLFSDFHSKDLNFJFHUHSDFJKSDFBSDKJFKJSBF and, stationing himself always in the most coveted spots, spread his lechery among all of the women there; and if you'd seen him flirt, you'd have said: "This fellow must put the saddle on every one of these women." So, when I saw that he was listening to what we were saying, I told my girl friend: "The numbskull is spying on us, so don't be upset or surprised at what I say." After that I raised my v6ice a bit and said: "I'm wojn out from having my head broken by that Sebastiano del Piombo, even if he is a great painter. I show him a finger, and he takes the finger and the whole hand." "How is that?" she asked me. "The other day I got him not just a beautiful but indeed a miraculous young girl for him to paint. I had to work like a dog for it, but he paid me—the truth must be told. Now he's always after me to paint her again; it's not enough for him that he's had her pose for him several times. He painted her as an angel, as the Madonna, as Magdalene, Saint Apollonia, Saint Ursula, Saint Lucy, and Saint Catherine; and I must admit it's a good excuse, for she is truly beautiful, I assure you." The dupe, who had pricked up his ears as soon as I started to chat with my friend, began to follow me: if I walked, he walked, if I dawdled, he dawdled; if I stopped, he stopped. He coughed and cleared his throat, greeted other people so loudly I could hear him, and made a thousand gestures so that I should become aware of him. Meanwhile I let my rosary beads fall and continued on my way, acting as if I hadn't noticed it. The simpleton took a little skip, gathered them up, and cried: "Lady, oh lady." I turned; and when he offered them to me, I said: "I really am absentminded. My deepest thanks to your lordship! If I can do anything for you, I am at your orders." When I started to walk, he grabbed me [ 331 ]

and drew me aside, starthing to tell me about the great desire he had to do me a favor, and that even though young he hoped it was not presumptuous of him to request my services to procure him a mistress. Finally he said that, thanks to the praises he had heard me lavish on the woman painted as many times as the angel Gabriel, he had fallen into the fire, was all aflame, and ardently longed for her. WETNUSDFNSKLDFJSDFJLSKFJSLKDFNSDLKFJSIOLNSDFLSD MIDWIFNLSKDFJKJFKLSFUSINSKLFSJDFKLMSDNKKLJSFNSDKL me's" which one employs when one also wants to chatter, then started beating about the bush, and concluded that his getting to know her would be impossible for a number of reasons ranging from respect to suspect. At that I bade him good-bye and took five or six steps, chewing on the "Think it over" with which he had left me; then I turned back and beckoned to him. And he said: "What do you wish, mother?" "I have high hopes for you, I just remembered that . . . But that's all now. Try to be at my house this afternoon at half-past six, and who knows—perhaps . . . God be with you." WETNURSFNSDKLJFSDJFLKSDJFLKSDJFNSDFLKSDJ MIDWINKLSJFLSKDJFLKSDFJSDJNSDLKFJSDJFLKSDFJASKLDN fool then trotted out, you would have roared with laughter. He left immediately to find out what hour the clock had struck; and with every friend he met, he'd lay his hand on his shoulder and whisper: "Tonight I'm getting a piece of quiff that would keep a duke happy. But please don't mention it; I can't say another word."

WETNURSEEThe oaf!F1 MIDWFBSDKJFHSHFNKSJDFNKSDJFHBNSDFKJSDHFSJNFKJSD said to him: "What should I tell you? She knows you, and so she's thinking it over, and for good reasons." "What do you mean, good?" the dunce asked. "Am I not a man, eh?" "Yes, sire, you are, but don't fly off the handle," I said to him. "She knows that you want all the women, and that you even have all of them; and she's worried that once she satisfies you, you will mock her. But I, who can size up a person in two looks, have been so vehement in your favor that she has agreed to become your humble servant." "You mean my mistress, by the pussy of Saint Isabella and the cat's pud," he flared up. I continued: "Your lordship should know that she has given me a ring just like the one you wear on your finger, so that you [ 332 ]

might wear it to show your love of her; but I told her: No, he should give you his as a sign of his faithfulness to you." Scarcely had I uttered these words than, moistening his finger with his tongue, he took the ring off, saying: "You were in my very soul when you said that to her, and so you shouldn't be against taking it to her and arranging this whole affair." WETNURSEE Ha ha ha! Who wouldn't laugh at the way you snitched his jewel? MIDWNVFLKDSFJSKJFLSKFJSDKFSDFJSDKSDNHFKLJSDNFMKF her the very next night, and after extracting five julios from him, I dismissed him with: "Now you can go away happy." Then I picked up a cheap but quite capable whore, dressed her in rented clothes, plastered her face with makeup, and rigged her out decorously, and after that asked him to come to the cottage of a colleague of mine and set her down in bed right at his side; and because an oil lamp, which was guttering out since I'd made sure not to put enough oil in it, did not let him see her as he wished, he was on the point of cursing heaven itself. But just as he was going to take his monk's vows I arrived, an hour before dawn, tracked him down, and made him get out of bed by tearing out all my hair and shrieking: "We've been discovered! Her brothers, her husband, her brothers-in-law! I'm ruined! Oh, what a miserable fate!" And may I come to a bad end if the fright he got didn't make him forget all about his purse hidden under the pillow; and when he returned the next morning to talk to me, a beau of mine looked so threateningly distraught that he got uneasy, left, and never came back again. WETNURSEEE How glad I am that such vain, boasting cocksmen are treated in this fashion. Come on, you witlings, come on, you tailwaggers; the whores are opening their legs to shove you straight into their middles—you little beasts, you musk-shitters, ruby-spitters, and monkey-faces. MIDWIFEENow to the nun's tale.LE WETNURSEE A bawd's exploits are grand affairs; she must show up everywhere, stick her hand in everythirig, promise and deny, deny and confirm. MIDWINFLSKDFJSFNLKSFJSIFSDKLFKLSDJFSDNFKSDJFSDKFSK fairs! A bawd must even turn herself into a tailor. [ 333 ]

WET NURSEE What do you mean, a tailor? MIDWIFEE She must resemble a tailor by the way she promises. Look now, he cuts you a dress, a doublet, a pair of pants, and a cloak; and although he's sure it won't be ready, not only on the promised day but the following day and even the day after that, he nevertheless promises and swears he will do it, and does this in order not to lose the work. The morning comes, and the man who thought he'd receive his suit dawdles for a couple of hours in bed, then sends him a message to get a move on; and the tailor replies: "Any minute, any minute. Right now I'm sewing in ten stitches that were missing, and then I'll hurry over." Nine o'clock passes, then lunch time, then the afternoon hours, and still he does not show up, so that the gentleman draws and quarters him with curses and threats of violence. But the experienced master tailor, when he's finally finished, trots to the house of the man, who pays and, having spread out the clothes, starts gabbing, makes excuses, humiliates himself, shrugs his shoulders, admits he is wrong, bears it all, and behaves as though he didn't hear that "thief" and "scoundrel" which were flung at him from the moment he arrived. And that's just how the bawd behaves, who lets whoever is croaking croak away because she has not kept scrupulously to her promises given on credit, so to say; and when nothing worse happens to her than being called a "dirty bawd," a "lewd bitch," or a "nasty sow," she considers it an entertainment. WETNURSEE Yes, truly an entertainment. MIDMNVLKSDJFLSJFLKSDJLFKJSDKLFJSDLFJSDKLFJLSLKDFJS nervous waiting for his new clothes, the man who sees the time of his appointment pass and wants to strangle the bawd, who under all such circumstances must face up to the person she has tricked in the same way that an innkeeper confronts the traveler who has been induced by his boy to lodge there for the night. WETNURSEE How did he get to that inn? MIDWMBDFLKGJSDKJGKLDFJLSDJFKDFSKLDFHJKLDHFJKSBN boys station themselves a mile from the inn, and when they see a wayfarer they say to him: "Signer or messer, come with me and I will give you partridges, pheasants, thrushes, truffles, warblers, and Trebbiano wine." They even promise him bitter sugar; but when they have led him to the inn, they barely give him a stringy chicken [ 334 ]

and one poor wine. When he begins to yell about this, the innkeeper apologizes, saying: "The truth is that just a while back a monsignor who was traveling through on horseback ate up everything which my boy thought we still had." So the new guest, who has dismounted and removed all his clothes, even his boots, is forced to eat what's available. WETNUR KLDFJGISJDFKSDLFSDFJDKLFNLKSDFJSKLJFLKSDFJ has promised great ladies and lovely gentlewomen, and then sets before him a heifer that acts like a cow. MIDWIFEEYou have hit it. Now let's return to the nun, theHE sister, the churchmouse whose chastity I have stained with a tiny curse and a fleeting blasphemy. But before I forget, I want to teach you, before talking to you about the convents, a lovely ruse. Make it your obstinate profession never to curse or swear, and take every care that it is bruited about that among all your sins is mixed one very rare quality in a bawd, namely that you never swear and never curse. WETNVJKSDFHSDJFHNKSJDFHJSDKFHS MIDWIFEEecause our main task is making people believe inE IN that which is not and cannot be. Whenever you have to charm and dupe someone, since you have the reputation of never swearing or cursing, as soon as you do curse and swear to get them to swallow it down, they'll have more faith in you than usury gives pledges of gold and silver. WETNNKSJDFSKDFNSDJKFN SDKJFHSKJDFHSDJKFSBNSDJFFH memento met than such good advice. MIDWNVKJSDFKSJFLDFKSNFSLKFJSDKLFSDLFJNSD ,LFJSDKFJI diseased pleasure out of pushing horns in monasteries was down to the last drop of the broth given to the moribund due to his love for a pretty, charming, and tasty little nun; and as a final desperate resort he came to me, wept on my shoulder, told me his troubles, and loaded me down with promises and money. With the result that I, like those charlatans who claim to be able to cure any fistula in eight days, promised him to go and speak to her; and I actually did go. But when I lifted my eyes to the monastery, I thought of the sacredness of the place, the high walls, the peril of going through them, the holiness of the nuns. So I stopped and asked myself: "What shall you

[ 335 ]

do, my dear Midwife, go in or not go in?" "Yes, yes," I replied, "I shall go in." "No, instead I won't go in." "And why not?" "Why, yes?" WETNURSEE That's just like you. MIDGNB LKSGDJFSKDJFLSDFNSDFJKDLFJSDFBGHJHJSFKDBFB home? Is this the first time?" So I was torn by this conflict whenever I looked at the monastery. I held in my hand some small kerchiefs of very fine white cloth embroidered with very fine untreated thread, and I put them back in my bosom. Then I opened a small prayer book of the Madonna all written by hand and illuminated with golds, blues, greens, and purplish violets; this prayer book I had gotten from a notorious friend of mine, who had stolen it from that Bishop of Amelia, whose scabby itch has become famous in Rome. I used to keep it wrapped in a thin cloth, and on the pretext of wanting to sell it, was able to enter into conversation with the nuns of every convent. Having opened it and gazed at it so long that I became dazed, I shut it again and put it under my arm; then I went back to contemplating the recluses' lodgings. And when I told this story to a man who had been a soldier out in the field, he told me that I resembled a captain who wants to storm a town. He looks it over and sees which are the thickest walls, the darkest, widest moats, and finds out which battlements are less packed with soldiers, and only then does he launch his attack. But then, whatever I might seem or be compared with, I walked straight into the church; and so as not to bring shame on the gray dress I wore whenever I mixed my bawdry with sisterly decency, I first dipped my fingers into the holy water, flopped on my knees, whispered for a while, giving myself a few maxima culpas on the breast, lifting up my arms as I brought my palms together, bowed my head, and kissed the floor. Then I stood up and knocked at the turngate. I tapped at it softly, very softly, and I heard in answer an ave; and as I heard it, the grate opened. And I hunched up my shoulders, cowered down, and asked if there were any sisters who would like to buy a book of psalms. WETNURSEE Just before you said that it was the Madonna's prayer book. MNGLKSJFSJFKMSDJFSDKFJFJSDHKJSDFHSDKLJFSKDJF BJK [ 336 ]

WETNURNBLKFSDJKSDJFKSDFSDFJKFSFBDJFHSDFHSDJKFSD telling two truths. MIDNVKLSDMJFEJNFKSDFKLSNF MSDFSDKFNSDJFKSDFN SDKJ heard that I wanted to sell a book, she ran upstairs. Soon after she returned with a band of young nuns and let me in, and behold, I let out a sigh and said: "I never set foot in monasteries that my soul is not shocked and distressed. Why, just the odor of saintliness and virginity which your chapel emanates converts me and makes me sigh over my sins. In short, you are in paradise, and you do not have the encumbrances of children, husbands, or worldly preoccupations. Your prayers and your vespers are enough for you, and the pleasure you get from your garden and vineyard are worth more to you than all the pleasures we enjoy." That having been said, I sat down beside the nun for whom I had gone there, unwrapped the book, found the first picture, and showed it to her; and the other nuns clustered around us. WETNUJFLKSDFLKSDJRSEDF,MSDNFSDNFJKSDNFMSDNFKLJ them chattering. MIDWIFFJSDLKFNLSKDFJLWEJFN,LSDMFJLWISLKDFJMFSDMFLS Adam and Eve. One nun said: "Cursed be that traitorous fig and this thieving snake who tempted the woman shown here," and touching the picture with her finger, she gave a long sigh. And another nun answered her: "What are you saying? We would live forever if the gluttony for fruit didn't exist." "But if we didn't die, we'd eat one another and become bored with living; so Eve did well to eat it." "No, by my faith, no," the rest of them cried. "Who wants to die, eh? Alas, to return to dust!" "As for me," said a clever nun, "I would rather live naked without shoes or petticoats than die fully shod and clothed; let him who wants death have it." Meanwhile I turned the page and came upon the flood, and no sooner did I come to it than I heard them cry: "Oh, how natural Noah's ark is! And look at those people who are fleeing into the trees and onto the mountaintops—they look as if they were alive!" Another nun praised the lightning bolts, which were falling through fire and clouds; another the birds frightened by the rain; another yet the people who were trying to cling to the ark; and other nuns praised other things. [ 337 ]

WETNURSEe This painting must have been stolen from the Sistine Chapel. MIDNKLDFJISJDFLKSDJFSJFKLSDFSFJKSDN FKJSDFLKSDJFKLS them the woods in which the manna fell; and when they saw all those people, men and women, who were filling their bellies, bosoms, hands, and baskets with manna, they all became ecstatic. At this point the Abbess appeared. When they saw her they ran to her with the book in hand; and while they kept her busy looking at the illuminated pictures, I stayed with the nun I was after. At the right moment I took out the finely embroidered kerchiefs and said to her: "What do you think of this work?" "Oh, it's very elegant," she replied. "Their owner is elegant too," I said, "and tomorrow I want to bring you some of his shirts embroidered with gold, which will amaze you, as you would also be amazed by his grace and gentleness. Oh, what a discreet young man, what a rich personality! I will now declare my sin: I would like to be as I once was, and that's all I say." While I was telling her these things, I gazed into her eyes; and seeing in them what I wanted, I changed my tone and said: "May God forgive your mother and your father for imprisoning you here; and I recollect quite well what the gentleman who owns the kerchiefs said to me. . . ." WETNURSEe What a clever path to take. MIDNGLDKFJGDKJGNKLDFMGNLDFMGLKDFGLDFKJGKDFSDN cause of his love of you. You are wise, and I know what you think of our being of flesh and bone, and of the loss of youth." In sum, Nurse, women's blood has a sweetness that is sweeter than that .of honey, but the sweetness of nuns surpasses honey, sugar, and manna; and so she prettily accepted a letter which I had brought on behalf of him who gave it to me, ancl the business was settled. Later the ways and means were found so that he could go to her and she to him. And my stroke of cunning was to leave the book, and therefore the door was always wide open to me; and I still pretended not to want to sell it but to give it as a gift, and as a result the bargaining never came to an end. WENJGKSDJFSN FSKSJFKS MIDWIFJGLKDSFNF SKMDFHWJEHFNSDJKLFLKSDFNSKDSD.KF with my talk. I told them all the world's most recent intrigues; and [ 338 ]

at times acting crazy, at times wise, blessed was the nun who could butter me up most. I told them what people thought of Milan, and who would become Duke; I told them which faction, the imperial or the French, the Pope supported; I preached the grandeur of the Venetians, and how rich and wise they were. Then I went into detail about this woman and that man, telling them about their lovers, and who was pregnant and who wasn't bearing children, and who the men were who treated their wives well or badly. I even explained to them the inner meaning of the prophecies of Saint Bridget and Fra Giacopone da Pietrapana. WEJGLDKFMGLDNGKDJFGN MIDWIHJFKSDNFKJSDFSNFKSMDFNSFNS KSJNSDJFN SKJFNSDJ (who was being married to a great lord, whom she was expecting from day to day), my rosary beads in hand, chewing on sighs and Our Fathers, with a little missive tucked in my bosom, and with a certain thin thread that I kept in a bag tied around my waist. Knocking softly at the door, I begged the maid, who called to me from the window: "Who is it?" to tell her mistress who I was and that I was bringing her thread so fine you felt like addressing it formally, which I had because of a store going bankrupt. As I expected, I heard her open the door for me and walked in with the eagerness of a thief who by the use of skeleton keys and dead files has broken into a store which he has been casing for a month in advance. I went up the stairs and with a bow that came close to a genuflection, said to her: "May God keep this grace, this beauty, and this person bewreathed with virtues, gentilities, and fine ways!" WET IFOJSDM,NKLSDFJSNG,DMN MIDLGIJDFLKGNLDKFJGODNG,MSDFNGIRUHGJKSDFGNSDJNG I say." I sat and then released a deep sigh and squeezed out two little dry and famished tears, huddled up into myself, and told her all my troubles—the hardships and the little alms that people gave me. So I moved her to pity, and when I saw that I had, I rattled off in a breathless voice: "If other people were like you, poverty would seem wealth to someone like me. What good is a hard-hearted woman ? What praises can one give her ? What paradise is hers? How many miserable creatures die on the streets, without being helped by anyone? How many are there in hospitals, which [ 339 ]

are never visited by the people doing charitable work? But let's forget these wretches. How many men tighten their fists because of this cruelty, this demoniac hardness at the core of the hearts of those who could help the afflicted simply with words, looks, not just deeds, and lift them up out of hardship and misery? May you be blessed, may you be adored, for you are merciful and compassionate and will not let me throw away this thread." And putting it in her hand, I smiled and said: "Something is happening to me today that never happened before during all my days." WETNURSEe The highest art of a bawd's bawdry takes its lessons from you. MIDWJFSDMNFLKSDJKLFGNSDLKFJLSFNKSDMLGJDKLFGJLDG pening to you?" I replied: "When I watch the sweet gyrations of your eyes, and how a few locks of your hair slip out from under your veil, the breadth of your forehead, the arc of your brows, the red of your lips, and all your ladyship's divine qualities, I feel more consoled than pained at my luck and your courtesy which deigned to let me appear here before you." And, even more flattered by this, she said to me: "It is due to your charm." "No, it's due to yours, my lady," I replied, "and he is right to adore and ardently long for you. . . . " And here I stopped and went into the business of the thread, asking so much a pound for it, more or less, as she wished. What a thing is woman, and how little intelligence she has! No sooner did I say the words "He is quite right to adore and ardently long for you" than she blushed bright red and, getting all wrapped up in bargaining over the thread, could not come to a conclusion. And seeing that she wanted to go into this matter, which mattered more to her than the thread and the flax, I touched again on where it hurt, saying: "So much the worse for whoever lacks good sense. It's better to live in despair over you than satisfy oneself with other women." And since it seemed to me that she had been struck down by the onslaught of my charlatanry, I took the letter out of my bodice and placed it in her hand. At this she turned on me, crying: "To me, hah? To me, eh? And who do you think I am? What do you take me for? I would like to tear your eyes out with my fingernails, tear them out with my nails, wretched, excommunicated, filth [ 340 ]

bawd and bitch that you are. Go with God, get out of my house, and if you ever try to approach me again, I shall pay you for all this. This is how you treat me, hah? This is your way, eh?" WETNUTGJFSDMKNIORLJKSDFNGKJSFNISDU MIDWIIGJSDFJKNKSDHOISDNFGSDJKFIORSGFSDJKNGKLDJTGO being pushed down the stairs. And as I was trying to get out of there, along came her husband; and then, hearing the noise, her mother ran to us, and her brother too, who usually never left his study. Finding myself in such a parlous position, I patched up the courage in my heart, the lies on my tongue, and the brazenness on my forehead; and suddenly I started shouting and said to the young woman: "If you think that I've asked too much for the thread, say 'It's not for me,' but don't be so rude." And then I said to the old woman: "Who knows better than you how much a pound costs?" and to the brother: "You have no business with me"; and finally to the husband, who shoved me and yelled: "What are y>u doing here?" I said, "I went through the wrong door; your lordship must forgive "me." And with these statements I got out of the mess. WETFKJDFKLNVJKDSNFONF SDKHJFBSDJKSFHSDJK MIDDSF;KSDMFNKKLSDJFORJSDGNVKLDSFNKLJSDKLFOSDHN fox uses when he sees himself surrounded by dogs, clubs, nets, and torches. His nerve never fails him. He keeps his head and makes a feint as though he wanted to get out by this way or that, and all the movements he makes they make too; and so they let him escape from their clutches without being quite sure how. WETNKFSKDMN FSDUHFJKSDBNFDFHSDHNFJKLSDRFISEHFN over. MIDWIKTERDFKMVNFKLSDJFHIOSEDHFNKJSADFNUSEFHYVBSD really angry at me? Not on your life, Nurse. She picked up the letter she'd torn to pieces, trampled, and spat on, and piecing it together again read it and reread it a thousand times; and from her window she showed to the man who'd asked me to deliver it. And so that I would believe him, her lover let me see with my own eyes how she became his mistress without further ado. One day after lunch he had me hide in a certain place, from which I saw her strip naked and go to bed with him. Since it was very hot and the room [ 341 ]

looked out on a garden, the chirr of the crickets, which at that hour were trying to outdo each other, prevented me from hearing what my lady was saying. But I saw her, yes, I saw her clearly, I surely saw her, for he examined her carefully, in every nook and cranny. She had coiled her hair on top of her head without a veil, so that her tresses formed a kind of balcony over her lovely forehead. Her eyes burned and laughed beneath the arc of her brows; her cheeks actually looked like milk sprinkled with flecks of the most delicate imaginable colors. Oh what a beautiful nose, sister, and beautiful chin she had! Do you know why I do not speak of her mouth and teeth? So as not to diminish their glory by talking about them. My God, her neck! And her breasts, Nurse, those two tits would have corrupted virgins and made martyrs unfrock themselves. I lost my wits when I saw that lovely body with its navel like a jewel at its center, and I lost myself in the beauty of that particular thing, thanks to which men do so many crazy deeds, acquire so many enemies, spend so much money and so many words. But her thighs, her legs, her feet, hands, and arms! May he who can praise them as they deserve do it for me. The front parts of her body drove me wild, but the wonder and marvel which really drove me wild were due to her shoulders, her loins, and her other charms. I swear to you by my property— and may I give it all to the sack, fire, thieves, and plug-uglies—that as I looked at her, I put my hand on my you-know-what and rubbed it just the way a man does when he hasn't a place to put it. WETNFOPKSD,MV SD.FNOSJFKLSDMFKLSFSDMKFKLKJFKNS which you feel when dreaming that your lover is doing it to you and then awake just as you come. MJKFVJKSDNFEWNFRJKSDNFKSDNFKSDNJKNSDJFNSKDJNJFNK and embraced each other so tightly that the air, which could not find any space between them, was driven to despair. And as they were so occupied, the crickets, luckily for me, suddenly hushed; and it was a great pleasure, for lovers' words are just as sweet as their deeds. Before they got down to business, the young man, as virtuous as he was noble, stared straight into her eyes and with his gaze thus fixed recited these verses (which I asked him to write down and which I memorized, together with other poems which I shall recite for you when the moment comes): [ 342 ]

He who lives on earth should not care for heaven, But be happy loving, and with his love content, Should not yearn to rise up among the Gods To experience the joy to which every soul aspires; For the greatest delight, it seems, is attained Only by way of the darling game of love, And at the moment when he kisses his woman's face He almost tastes one of the pleasures of paradise. Oh blessed are those who have two hearts In a single heart, two souls in a single soul, Two lives in a life, and whose ardors Are satisfied in a mild and gracious peace. Blessed are those who enjoy fervors Which with equal desire discharge all burdens. And neither envy, jealousy, nor bitter fate Deny them any pleasure even until death.

WETNURSEe The soul, the soul these verses have has touched mine. How soft and sweet the sounds! MIDH NJXCBFJKSDBFKSANDBKJASDFB DSAMNFBSDJKFBS NMF the girl's ears, they really got down to it. Already their breasts were joined so fervidly together that their hearts were fused in the same emotion. And as they gently drank each other, their souls rushed to their lips from sheer delight and they delved deeply into each other, tasting the bliss of heaven. Their spirits then gave the supreme signs of happiness with cries: "Oh, my God—oh, Christ— oh, you're killing me, you're killing me!" and moans: "My life—my soul—my heart—I'm dying—wait till I come!" and then they came. After this they slowly fell apart, breathing out their souls into each other's mouth with a long, deep sigh. WETNURSEe A Sappho, a Tebaldeo, not to speak of a Petrarch, could not have told it so beautifully. But tell me no more about them, and leave me with a sweet mouth. MIKLFNKSDFSDLFNKJSDFNKLSMDFNKLSDFNMLKSDFMNLKSDF sleep which gradually rained down on their eyes, so that they would open and shut, giving and taking away the light, just like a small cloud takes away the light of the sun and then restores it, as now it crosses in front of it and now it goes away from it. [ 343 ]

WETFKLNSKDJFNJKSRFSDNMF SD,MF MIDWIIFSDNKLFNIOSDFJLSKDJFLDSFLSDMFSDFLKSDFLKSDJFK more good qualities than the herb betony, laid eyes on a widow neither old nor young, very pretty and comely, who went to Mass almost every morning. And in order to set things going, as I did, I used to get to church always before she did and place myself purposely on the steps of her altar; and I did that at first to offer her a means of talking to me, if in no other way, at least by saying to me: "Why don't you get out of the way?" and that's how it started. Whenever she saw me she greeted me politely, often asked me what I was doing, if I had a husband, how much rent I paid, and other bits of information of that sort. So the man who yearned for her decided to make me the go-between of his love, and one evening he came to see me all by himself and in an honest fashion asked me to do it. And I, always quick with my replies, gave him my promise and at the same time left him in doubt. I promised by saying: "A woman like me should serve a man like you." But I cast a doubt by saying: "I wonder; but I'll talk to her, you can be sure of that." So I told him to come to the church and when he did, I approached the widow but spoke to her of something quite different. Then I turned to him and started gesticulating; that is, I told him with gestures that she, who was actually laughing at my chitchat, was laughing because she had heard his name; and so he was very happy. WETNUOLFNSDLJKFSLIJSDLK MIDWIFEFLKSDFKLSNDLKFJESIFNSDLKFNKLSDFKSDNFJKSDN showed up. So I shook hands with him and said: "I hope you'll be happy, for she likes you. I couldn't talk about anything that pleased her more. But for the first time she didn't dare tell me\ her real feelings, but who couldn't see them ? Write her a letter together with a few sonnets, for she enjoys them, and I shall give it to her." When he heard about the letter, a pair of little ducats came my way. "And I'm not giving you this as a payment," said he, "but as a foretaste of those I'll give you; and tonight I'll bring you the letter." He departed and returned later, bringing me a letter wrapped in a piece of black velvet and tied with green silk thread. And after kissing it he gave it to me, and I kissed it again and put it away. [ 344 ]

WETNURSEe Ceremony for ceremony. MIDWIMFGLKFJSDNF,SDFNSLIDFJSDM,FNKLSJDFJSDNLJKDFSLK ising him to give her the letter the very next morning. And I went to church, found her, but didn't talk to her; for I saw a maid with her who usually didn't come. Since I didn't do anything, I gave him some excuse; and he said: "That's fine. If you can't, you can't. So long as you keep me in mind, I'm satisfied." "What do you mean, keep you in mind? I shall give it to her tomorrow or die in the attempt. Leave it to me; I want to visit her house. Be here at two o'clock, and I'll have something to tell you." He thanked me and offered me something, finally handed over another ducat, and then left. And after a long wait I went to the widow's house and asked her if she had any flax, tow, or hemp to be spun (because, if you remember, I told you that I went dressed as a poor woman in the houses of the rich, and as a rich woman in the houses of the poor). I got the flax and just what I wanted, and when the man came back to see me, I told him: "I have given her the letter in the most lovely manner, using the newest craftiness in this world"; and I reeled off a rigmarole that was neither true nor even close to it, leading him to believe that the next evening I would get her reply. The next morning came, and I had to go and convert one of these silk-winders, a pretty young girl, as poor as it's possible to be. So I left my little niece in the house and of course forgot the letter, which I had not given her and wasn't about to give her, leaving it in the table drawer; and this forgetfulness almost ruined me because the man who gave me the letter came to my house when I wasn't there, and the child let him in. He went upstairs, poked around in the drawer, and found his letter. He carried it off, saying: "Now I want to see what that filthy bawd has to say for herself, after all I did for her." WETLFKSDLFKSDKJSDKLFNSDNSDGFNKLSDFSDJKFNS MIDWLFIGNBDFKLGJNIODFSDKFGNDJKFHFSDFNGKSDJGNJIF told me: "Something's up," I looked in the drawer and didn't see the letter. I asked the child and she told me: "Messer So-and-So was here," and I immediately started thinking Up an excuse. Just then he came in and didn't seem angry at all; in fact he behaved as [ 345 ]

usual with his polished little grins all in order and his sly, beautifully turned-out little speeches. But your foul-minded Midwife wasn't fooled for a minute and, coming to meet him, began to say: "I know that you won't even let your servants sleep or digest their food. I swear by my soul I have gone through one of the most miserable nights a person can spend. It's true I told you that I had given her the letter—I won't deny it—but I didn't intend to tell you a lie. The fact is, I didn't get a chance to give it to her; and since I was sure I could do it tonight, I said to myself: "It doesn't matter if I say I did it for him, since I can do it later." So now you've taken back your letter, and it's clear that you don't believe me any more. But, please, give it back to me and you'll see not tomorrow but the day after what I am capable of doing." WET NURSEe ome intrigue!! MIDOIFSDKLFJIOSFJSDLKNFKJSDFOSFNJSJKFNSFKNSDJKFSJDK of his breast pocket and gave it back to me, saying: "Of course I was a trifle angry, for it seemed you were treating me like a fool; but I'm a reasonable man, and so I accept your excuses. That's the end of the quarrel between us, and let us quickly correct the error." And I said to him: "I know very well what it means to say something that is not true to a gentleman like yourself; but what's done is done, and now I'll try to remedy it." And with these fictions he left, and I laughed and unfolded the letter. Nurse, one never beheld a lovelier thing: each character looked like a pearl, and there is no woman so hard and coarse who would not have been moved by the words he had written. Oh, what marvelous turns of speech, what lovely ways to implore, and what beautiful devices he had invented to arouse tender feelings and to induce another person to burn with passion. I took an unusual pleasure in reading and rereading this dainty little madrigal, which he had inserted in the letter: Lady, beauty that surpasses all wonder Is beautiful only because it looks like you, Yet if you want to make it grow in renown, Melt the ice in yourself and douse my flame, And then you will be all the more marvelously Beautiful, the more you resemble pity.

[ 346 ]

For at the end you will be blamed If all my hopes are in vain, And they will say: "Marvelously cruel Is cruelty, since it looks just like you."

WETNURSEe Very sweet. MIDWIFEe When I had read it carefully, I put it back and used the velvet in which it was wrapped to make two small medal pouches to be worn around my neck, laughing at the waiter-for-areply: a reply which came, as you shall hear. When I returned to the widow's house, I 'heard them shouting about some damaged necklace which, as it was being strung, had broken into four pieces. And since it was the kind of workmanship one rarely encountered, nor was there anyone in Rome capable of doing such work, the lady was making a terrible stink over it. A slippery customer, I immediately thought of a sly trick and said: "Don't get upset. When you come to Mass, I'll speak to a jeweler, whom you might have seen at other times; and he will fix it so well for you that it will be even more beautiful where it is broken than where it is whole." She felt better immediately and said to me: "Be sure to come to church tomorrow morning without fail." After having given her my word, I ambled home; and hardly had we said grace at table than my friend appeared. "One has to be a woman," I told him, "to be eager to serve as I have served you. Your letter was pleasing, and so very, very much that you'd be amazed. She cried over it, sighed again and again, and even giggled. She read your verses ten times over, and I can't tell you how highly she praised them, and not without kissing them repeatedly before she tucked them away between those snow-white and rose-red tits of hers. And the upshot is that tomorrow morning when everyone leaves the church, she wants to talk to you." Hearing this, he wanted to thank me in a loud voice, but I said: "Go softly over the rough places." "What rough places?" he asked. "I shall tell you," I said. "She doesn't trust her maid; and in order that the maid won't discover your secret, we have hit on a fine way out. The lady has broken a necklace which she prizes very much, and she wants to pretend that your lordship is a jeweler. And to make sure the tattling maid won't get wise, you'll have to show her [ 347 ]

the necklace, tell her how much it will cost to repair it, and when she'll get it back. Don't spoil our game, and play your part well so that she is satisfied." WET NURSE What a devilish plot! MIDWIFEe The comedy was enacted; and they both fell for it. And you would have died laughing if you had seen, as the blockhead handled the necklace, how his voice and hands trembled, and how he forced himself to speak in parables and couldn't be understood, nor could he understand the widow. Finally he left, promising to send her a piece of jewelry that resembled the broken necklace so she could examine it. And he let me lead him by the nose for three months with my "Today's the day" and "Tomorrow you'll have her up against the wall." In the meantime I never spoke to her about him, or I did so about as much as you do. At last he realized what was up and was so ashamed at having let himself be bamboozled that he kept his mouth shut. And among all the other hoaxes he had suffered, he blushed most at a lovely morning serenade he gave the widow, for which he gathered together the best musicians in Italy and with and without instruments sang several newly composed verses. WETNURSEe If you remember them, tell them to me. MOFSDMFJKSDFSENFKJSDNFJKSDNFSDNFKSDKFJSFHSJDKFK die, and the prayers my mother taught me as a child! Accompanying himself on his lute, he sang to her: My living soul, flame and lady, Since I see all fortune in your face I declare that only there is Paradise. And if it is indeed elsewhere, You must be the living model for it, And it is beautiful because it copies your face.

WETNURSEeSweet and short.rt. MIDWKUDDKJFNDJKSDNFDSNFSDNFNSDFNKSJDFSFJKSDFSDF people gathered around: Because the world will not believe That, love's reward, all sorrows abide with me, And every blessing in my sweet enemy;

[ 348 J

From you, oh wicked King of people lost, And you, oh God of Gods, This grace I would implore: The one from flames, monsters, and ice The most tortured soul should pluck, The other from Heaven's angels Should the most beatific take. Then if the wretched shall For an hour with me dwell, And the beatific be with her I am certain that, fleeing my laments, The guilty one will say to all, "My sins earned me lesser torments," And the blessed, enraptured by that jeweled face, Contentedly would not wish to return aloft. For in me there is a crueler Hell And a more eternal Paradise in her.

WETNURSEeThis is bestially beautiful, and those gabbing poetsets of yours say some great knaveries and seem always to be raving. MIDT,MF NSNSDFSDFJKSDNFJKSDFSNDJFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDM,FN and it is just a way of expressing themselves when they praise and magnify the women they love and the passion they suffer in loving them. WETNJKFNSBDKLFNKSJFSKLDFNLKSDFSDKMDLKSFJSDKLFJ tors, and poets, for they're all crazy. MIDWIFEe Painters and sculptors, except for Baccio Banda-nelli's grace, are all voluntary madmen, and you can see that this is true by the fact that they take their own privates and bestow them on their paintings and marble statues. WETNFDLKSFM,LSDFLKSFJSJ MIDLKFJSDKLFNKLSDJFLKSNFSM,DFN Eyes, for you, for you I would suffer death, You, you have killed me . . .

WETIOFJSDKLFJKSDF MIDWIFNSDM,FNSDJFSDNKLSDNFSDMFNMSDNFSDNFFSDFSDFS mysterious pair of eyes: [ 349 ]

Bring the sun between us To dazzle the night as you do!

I want to tell you all the details, because there is no doubt that the procuress is at times very much like a spider: if her webs are wrecked, she must spin them again, just as the spider rebuilds his web when it is shattered; and indeed, just like the spider waits patiently all day to snatch a fly, so the bawd must stay there quiet and still to take her victims by surprise. And when she sees a good opportunity, she springs on her good fortune just like the spider darts on the insect entangled in its web; and though it is true that the bag is small potatoes, it doesn't matter provided she wolfs down a good mouthful. That's quite enough. And when the bawd spreads her web and gets what she wants, thanks to someone's foolishness, she sucks the blood of his purse as a spider sucks the blood of the flies it has captured. The spider lies in wait, and the bawd is on the alert; the spider rushes to every hair that gets tangled in its mesh, and the bawd immediately opens her door to whoever knocks at it. She's always on the hunt, just as a spider is. WETNURSUNMDFKJLSDJFSLKDNFL,SDMNFSFKSJDFLSFJSDK the things from which you take your comparisons, would be able to discover so many likenesses. MIFLKSDNFKM SDJKFNSDFNSMS,DNF,MSDNFFSSDFFSDFSFSSDF about them. WEDFSDFSDFSFSFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFFSDFS MIDOIFSDNKLFSDKSMFNFNFNMSDNFFSDFSFSDFSDFSDFSDFSD care for renown, and I am not one of these vainglorious persons who strut about with a long stride and are swollen up with the idea of fame. I stay in my own britches, and I am content with what I am. But let's forget the murmurings of others. I, my dear Nurse, have navigated in all weathers, never wasting a single hour, and I have always earned my keep, whether a little or a lot. Sometimes, after dining, I would stroll through the Banchi and Borgo districts all the way to St. Peter's, giving the once-over to those blockheaded out-of-towners who know about as much as melons know; and after I had sized up one of them, I would accost him in my best doltish manner and greet him by saying: "What town are you from, my [ 350 ]

good man?" Then we would talk about how long he'd been in Rome, and whether he was looking for a master, and similar gabble, and so I would soon become intimate with him. Once our friendship was established, he and I would both stand and gape at all the people who were passing by on the Sant'Angelo Bridge. At last I'd say: "Please, come with me to where I am staying, for I have to settle accounts with my landlady, and I can't make head or tail of all these baioccos, these half and whole julios, or how much a chamber ducat or any other is worth." The half-wit would say: "Good, gladly," not at all on his guard, and come with me. And so I would lead him to a small room where a two-bit whore was waiting. When I walked in, I'd say: "Call your mother"; and she, knowing the secret jargon, would reply: "She's waiting for you at her aunt's house. She says that you should go there anyway, for someone, God knows who, wants to talk to you; then come back and settle the bill." WET NURKJKLFJFKSFSKDJFJKDFSDJKSDJKKSDFSDKLFJSDK I still don't get the drift. MIDJDFKLSDFJDFSDFNLSDFJDFJKSDLJDFSJJFDFJKLJKLDJKDJF crow, I'd say: "I'll be right back; meanwhile why don't you have lunch?" And he, after taking a good look at the tame young mare, running his eye over her from top to bottom, would say: "Go right ahead. I'd wait a year for you, not just a moment." But why waste the day gabbing? The poor man, unable to withstand the caresses the young slut would smother him with, would plunge right in. Then he'd think he could leave without paying up; but she would follow him, make an awful racket, rip off his cape, and shove him out the door, cursing him up and down. WDFSDFSGFDGDFGHGFHGGF MIDWIFEeEvery single day I would trap some customers; andndd those who didn't have cash left the clothes right off their backs, and they could still be waiting for me to come back! WDFGDFGDFGDHGHGHGFHGJGHJJJKHJKHJKHJKHFGDSDSFSD without a buoy of rushes or a gourd soon drowns. I say this to those women who want to be bawds and fail to get a teacher. MIFSDFGDFGDGDFGDGHGHGHHFGHFGHGGH WEDFGDF.GLDF;KGDFGG,DF.G,DF,G,GFKDLFG,.DFMG,F MIDWIFEeNow pay close attention to this one.ne. [ 351 ]

WEDFSGDFGDFHGFGSDFSDFSDF MIDWIUINKLDSFJFJSDKLFLSDDJLKFSJKFSDJKFSDJKJKLKFJ;L guished man's wife to break the neck of her good name, a woman famous for her beauty, but anyway she ran off; nor did we ever find out the man she went with. And while everybody was talking and gossiping about her running away, I called on a favorite of a great maestro and made him swear on the holy stone to keep a secret of what I would tell him. So he swore again and again that he wouldn't even say it to himself. So, giving him my hand as an earnest of my good faith, I told him that our friend's wife was in my room, but locked up in the dark, and that it would be dreadful if he told anyone about it. Since he thought that I had her in my power, he hastened to lick me all over with caresses and flattery, calling me his mother, his lady, his sister and mistresses. And I said: "I wouldn't like anyone to know, because not only would the poor woman be in danger of getting killed but I would have my neck, back, and thigh broken for me. I would be flogged branded, and even burned at the stake." WETNFIOJFKLSFJLKSDFSD,FKLSDFSDJKFLKSDLFJSDKJFKLS just see it. MIDWFFNKLJFFJKLFKLKDFJS;FISFJSDKFJSFJDK WETJKNFSDKJLFSDFNSDFSDFS MIDWDKLFJDLFJIRSDFKSDFS LKFSJFKLSFSKLFJSNSLKDFJJFJN many a blessing for me, I led him in the dark to the servant girl, as you have guessed. He paid for her and then fucked her like a man. Then he thanked me and went off to find a loudmouth. And after having made him swear not to say a word, he told him the whole story; and so naturally and inevitably, the second man put on a disguise and came to be served by the servant. And he came back for it more than ten times, and not only him but about a hundred knights, officials, and courtiers shot their loads right at her target, so that I earned almost all the wealth I now possess. WETNURSEe Tell me, was the swindle ever discovered? MIDKFNDDKLFSDJF WETNURSEe How? MIDWIFEe One morning when she had taken on board a clergyman, she felt very cold; and the brazier of coals I had put in her room suddenly flared up, and the monsignor saw her face. He knew [ 352 ]

then that she wasn't the lady in question and wanted to gulp me down whole and cursed me out, jabbing his fingers two or three times into my eyes to gouge them; nor could he keep from whacking me again and again with his fist. And if my tongue hadn't come to my rescue, I would have had it that time. And when the story of how I had hoaxed those men got around, the husband of the lady who had run away, feeling in fact that this second affair was a far greater shame for him than the first, was ready to chop me into bits and pieces. But he who escapes from one escapes from a hundred—and so the hoax ended up in a big laugh. WETNURSEe I like that. MIDWBDFJKSFSKADJASKKASJKASDJKASDASJDHASJDKHASDJKASHD cheated, and mocked in my day! WETSDASDASFSDFDSFGDGFDGDFGHFGHGHJGJJHHJJH MIDGHFGHGJGHJHGJGHJFGHFGHFGHGDFFGFGHDHDGHDGGF same time; and if by chance she must pay the body's debts in the next world, she can quite easily say: "She who enjoys herself once will never suffer again," and besides, there's always time to repent. WETKJHKLHKLJKLJKKJLJK MIDHJGLKJHKHKHJKHJKHHJHHJHJHJHJHJHHJHJHJHJHJHJHH sellers, and fifty millers to sleep with the town's best courtesans,, leading the women to believe that they were lords and cavaliers who had come for the sake of their beautiful eyes (as Boiardo's poem puts it). The truth is, they paid through the nose. Then, turning the page, I got great lords to stick it into great sluts, patching up their ugliness with finery rented by the hour, nor can I keep from telling you a trick I played for my own and a certain lady's profit. Now remember, my dear little sister, that I instructed the courtesan I am telling you about; lodge it firmly in your head that every single one of her adroit moves was seasoned with my oil and my salt. WETKJHBNKLJNKHNJKLDJFKLSDKLFJSDFKLSDFJKS MIDWGGHFGHFJGHJGHJGJGHJFHGDSGDFSDFSDFSDSDSFSFD he stayed here for his business eight months of the year, and as love wished, he fell for one of these prime whores, who was living much better than I could say. And when he was roasted to a crisp, not having any other means, he fell into my hands. He told me all of his troubles; and I replied with "I'll see," and with that "I don't know," [ 353 ]

"It could be," "Perhaps," and "Maybe" which are mixed together with the uncertainty a person has about getting certain things. I went, talked to her, came back, gave him hope, took it away again—the usual routine; and he gave me letters and followed them up with sonnets. And I carried everything I got to his lady. WETNURSEe Sonnets and letters are always the first to call on us. Why not money ? Something more valuable than paper and verses should be given us if a man wants to avoid jerking off while dreaming of this woman or that. MIDWIFEe You talk sensibly; nevertheless, courtesies are courtesies, and songs were quite the fashion. And a woman who did not know a batch of the newest, most beautiful songs would have been ashamed, and whores as well as bawds enjoyed them. Nanna here would not let me tell you a lie about this, because she knows all the advantage she drew from them, and the entertainment she used to give people with the song that says: I have, oh ladies, a thing that's mine. But when love makes one of two This thing belongs also to you. Its head is red, its body fair, And black as ink its hair. Its mouth forever brims with milk It rears when teased by hands of silk. Often it grows or diminishes, And, though dumb, knows when it finishes. Now by my faith in thee Tell me what it might be.

WET-NURSEeI know you're talking about that certain tail.ail MIDWIFEeYes, my lady, that certain tail. But the older thethe world gets, the nastier it grows; and the virtues of courtesans are transfigured by the way they manage to exist in it, and the woman whose pockets are full has the most artfulness and the most luck— as Pippa must have heard from her mother. But let's get back to the merchant, to whom, after I'd known him for half a month, I said: [ 354 ]

"The lady is content to content you, and don't think she does it for money, because she has plenty. Your grace, your good looks have led her astray." So after getting him to believe that she would come to my house and for respectability's sake could not let him visit hers, I brought her there; and they twined around each other. He had her a number of times, though always on the quiet, and gave her a few lovely presents, believing therefore that she came to my little house because she had it bad for him, and also to make sure that the 'bigwig who kept her would not find out about it. Oh, it slipped my mind. The merchant begged her so much, promised so much, and gave her so many gifts that he constrained and compelled her to sleep for two nights in my little bed. So she, accustomed to feather quilts, mattresses, fine linen sheets, silken blankets, and beds draped with velvet curtains, as she turned to embrace him, said: "The love I have for you leads me to sleep where the most wretched maid I ever had wouldn't. But the thorns, the very thorns grew soft when I am with you." And after giving him a wet smack of a kiss, she continued: "Tomorrow night I've decided that you should come and sleep with me, and what does it matter if it turns out badly for me?" WETNUR.SEeThe powder is taking fire, and the gun is ababout to go off. MIDWIFEe Having heard this promise, the fop took a stroll and sent her a dinner: partridges and things of that sort. And as soon as the clock struck seven, he walked into her house and, after having set foot inside, mounted the stairs by the light of a white torch. On reaching her room, he saw that it was all richly adorned and spacious. As he was ushered into it, he was amazed by its furnishings and said to himself: "How shall I repay her for the discomforts she suffered on my account, when she slept in the bed she slept in?" To cut it short, they dined and went to bed; and soon after they had put out the candle, indeed just as they were closing their eyes in the first sleep, lo and behold, a brick was thrown into the room and smashed everything. She clung to him and moaned: "Oh, my God!" Meanwhile the blanket was pulled off the bed and they were left almost completely naked; and as they pulled it back, a fusillade of laughs and cackles burst out. The merchant, hanging on by his teeth, whispered to her: "Could these be ghosts?" [ 355 ]

WETNURSEe That's just what I was thinking. MIDJKDNASJKDNJASKASDNASDMASDNASDNASJD ASDASNDM,DS a certain man who made me what I am and who cannot even bear a fly to look at me, so that I must rob the ease that I give your pleasure, there is also the ghost of a poor suitor of mine who hanged himself for love of me. He persecutes me, and every time I sleep with anyone he plays these tricks you've just heard; but when I sleep alone, he keeps quiet." At that moment a little maid of hers, who was hidden under the bed, pulled off the bedclothes again and started cackling again. WEKJDNASDM,NAJKDASDM,AS D,MASNDJM,ADNA MIDWDAKJDNASDJKNASJKDNASJDHAJKDDASJKDNBASJKDNJKAS the merchant felt possessed by spirits; and if she hadn't cheered him up, he would have had to be tied to a column in a church and exorcised. When he got up the next morning, he had the whole house— the chamber, hall, kitchen, wine cellar, the place where they kept the wood, the roof and everything under it—blessed and exorcised by the sign of the cross and holy water; and having found the least miserable priest he could, he gave him a ducat and said: "Say the Mass of St. Gregory for the soul of the ghost who lives in Signora So-and-So's house." WETFLKGMSFD,KSDLFJSD MIDWIFEe he cretinous brute, who was playing the savant andd the man of the world, got the fixed idea that the ghost never did so many wild things as when he slept with her, and that all this took place because she had never loved the ghost with all of her heart as she loved him. WEFISDJFKLSDNFJKSFSDJN MIDWIFEeThe best of it is that the dunce went around tellinging the story of the ghost, and when people criticized him for believing in such nonsense, he wanted to fight all those who didn't believe it. WETNDFSDFSDFSGGDFDFGDFGHGH MIDDRSDDDFHFGHFHFGHFGHFGDFSDFGGGDGD WEFGDFGDFGDHFGHFHJHHHHH MIDDFKL LKRGFNKLDGHJJGJGJKGHGDJKGHJLKJKLKLJJLKJKL the whores give us back the honor they have taken from us. [ 356 ]

WELIFSDKLFMSKLFJSKFSDLKFJLSFJKSDFLSDFJSDIKLFJSD place. MIDWIIFNSDKLFJLSDFJSDKLFSDLFSDKLFJDFJFHNKLSDFKSD of doing us honor, having such great need of us that even if they burst they can't do without us, they approach us, lead us to their rooms, and setting us over them, use the formal term of address, beg for our favor, promise us all sorts of things, give us gifts, and even kiss us. And the least word they say is: "You are my hope" or "My life is in your hands"; and we poor fools fling ourselves at them. But we must change our characters, and not go along so meekly. When they suffer from lust, disease, and necessity, we should let them suffer and not give them the remedy for all these things; and if we do give it to them, we should make them pay dearly for it, or at least defer to our superiority. And I don't know a single man—I'm talking about lords and princes—who would not interrupt a conversation about the state, not to mention his food, to be introduced to a bawd. They closet themselves with us, treat us like members of the family, and always put us at their right hands. WETNOFSD,MFNKLSDJKSFJKDSLKSFSDFSD FSM,DFSDFKSFKS MIDWIFKFSDKMFJSDFNSDKMFSNFSDKFSJFKLDSFJLJKLDFJSD to blows for the place beside the rostrum of the rector of studies; and when the Pope rides on horseback pontifically, every person of dignity fights to be at his side. The chamberlains are superior to the grooms, the grooms are superior to the footmen, the footmen are superior to the stable boys, and the stable boys are superior to the scullions; and what hardships must be endured to rise from a mister to a sir, and from a sir to a sire! All things must go in their proper order: there are gentlewomen, burghesses, and common women, and since there are these grades, when they walk or sit together, the gentlewoman places herself in the middle, the burghess at the right, and the common woman on the left. Yes, the bawd is right; and if it weren't that litigation is a fine way for litigants to grow thin and hungry, and a fine way to fatten the lawyers or the so-called procurators, I would go to court on this case against any whore whatsoever. But the dirty tricks of these folk keep me in a middling mood. WETNOIFSDNM,LFJLSFNSD KSDFSDJF,MSD.KLDSFJKLSDFKLS [ 357 ]

MIDWIFEeaven't yet spoken to you of the bawd's conscience.ience. No, I haven't spoken of that.

WETNURSEeNo.o.. MIDWIFEe Hypocrisies and prayers are the baubles of our badness. Here I am passing by a church; and here I enter it and dip the tip of my ringers in the holy water, make the sign of the cross on my forehead, say a pater and an ave, and then leave. I see a painted figure on the street and clap my hand over my mouth and cry: "Confess your sin," and continue on my way. I salute the priests and, breaking a candle in two, give one of them as alms, and two bites of bread, a penny, and a scallion thrown in. I always carry a bag under my arm, and sometimes I have twenty dry figs, sometimes ten halfwormeaten nuts, sometimes a decoction of mashed beans, sometimes a pot of chicory, and sometimes three cloves of garlic, a few spindles, some crusts of bread, and some old worn-out shoes; and I always hold in my hand some candle-ends for the agnus dei. Sometimes as I stroll along I turn a confession card, and swallow down a rosary. If a poor wretch falls, I help him to his feet; I teach the feast days to anyone who asks me; and I offer in writing the way to know the feast day of St. Paul, the lay priest, as in these verses: If there's a big sun or little one, We're in the middle of winter. If lightning flashes or it rains, We are out of it entirely; If there's a fog or a mist, That means famine or feast.

I forget the rest of it, it's been so long since I recited it. How fine it was to see me in Holy Week, roaming everywhere with a bag full of various things. Without ever spitting on consecrated ground, I would hear the Passion with my lighted candle and olive branch; at the kissing of the cross the held-back tears ran very quietly down my cheeks. On Holy Saturday I stood through the entire office, and at the preaching of the Passion I honored the monks with the cries that I, prude and chest-beater, would shout out. And I gained great credit for a prank I played. [ 358 ]

WETNURSEeA prank?k? MIDWIKJNSD,MFNSDFNSDNF SDM,FNSDMFNSDM,FMSDFSDFNS there were about twelve women spinning cotton; and after I had greeted them and bowed, they made me sit down and began to ask me about my activities. I told them the biggest lies in this world. I told them about my godfather who, having given me his word before he died, had come back to visit me and hadn't frightened me at all. I got them to believe that a witch had carried me not only to the walnut tree at Benevento but also under the rivers and over the seas without ever wetting my feet. I told them how the fables of the beasts of the Epiphany can be understood and how many virtues can be found at the crossroads, and gave all of them advice, teachings, instructions, and remedies even for inflammations. And when I stood up to go, I dropped a swatch of cloth in which a flaggellant's whip was wrapped; and scarcely had they seen it than the covey of women regarded me as a magnificatte, not just a sanctificetur and an alleluia. WETIONFKLSDJFSDNFSDM,NFSDNFSD,NF,SMDFDSFSDF MIFSDFSGSDFGDFGDFGFDGDFGDFGDFGDFGGDFHDDFGDGD holiness if you want to hoodwink all of them. You have to go to Mass, vespers, and even compline, and stay there for long hours on your knees; and even if you don't put stock in anything else, you will be the mistress of praises and glories. All the women I know who dressed in bigot's brown, fasters, alms-givers, take it where it's shoved into them! And how many indulgence-scratchers have I seen get drunk, sodomize, and whoremonger? And since they know how to crick their necks and vow not to eat sturgeon or meat that costs more than three pennies a pound, they rule Rome and Romagna. And so a pure Catholic procuress is a carnelian prized by all. WETGDGDGDGDFGDDFGDFDFGDGDFGDFHFHFGGDFG MIDDFHSDNMKFBSDFKSDNMFSDKFSDF SMDNFSF WETNSKJFSDNFJKLSDFSDM,NFSD MIDWFJKSDFMJSDNJKSDFSDFJKSDNFJKSDNFJKSDJKFSDJSFSF held in great esteem, and to pick up some hard cash. In the past, though not now, I could have shown you fifteen or sixteen little girls put in my charge, whom I taught to count the loaves of bread as they came from the oven, to fold the clothes from the dry lye pit, to bow, to carry dishes to the table, to say the blessing, to respond [ 359 ]

to the lady and .gentleman, to cross themselves, to kneel, to ply a needle, and all such accomplishments of a young girl. WETNLFSDNKLFSDKLJSDKLFN MIDFJSDNFKJSDFNKJSDFJKSDNFJKSDKFJSDFJSDJFKSFDSFSDF grown men. But what about the maids? I always kept five or six on tap, and after having drawn all the sap out of them by having them tested by this man and that, I'd give them away—to one man as foster children, to another man as virgins, and to a third as perfectly trained and knowledgeable courtesans. And when they left my house, I would review all my teachings and provide admonitions that a mother could not have improved on; and above all I advised them to shut their eyes to their mistresses' behavior. "Be cunning," I told them cunningly, "for if you are, they will become your maids and you will become the mistresses. Their bed will become common property, as well as their blouses, their bread, and their wine; in fact you will always drink sweet, sparkling wine." WETNKLFSDNSDJKFHSFNSKJDNFKJSDFHSKFHJSKFBGDHFSDB terated truth. MIDWIFSHJFBSDJKFBSDJKFHFKSFJKSDJKFSDJKFHJKSDFSDKF friar with a round tonsured pate, dressed in the finest imaginable cloth. He tried to befriend me, and so he did; and after doing so, he gave me some beautifully plaited cords, some salad greens, some plums, and I know not what else—all sorts of monkish oddities. When he saw me in church, he would desert everyone to come to me; and I, who understood quite well on what leg my mule was limping, was always in a state of contrition, trying to do good for the soul by perpetrating all the evils of the body. And in the end, all of a sudden, he came clean and told me about his passion for a certain lady and wanted me to carry a message, which would have given second thoughts to the ambassadors themselves, who are not penalized for the messages they are charged to deliver. WETNURLKJDAKJFJKDFKJSDFJKDASNBFJSDJKFHSDFSDJKHFJ MIDFUJSDFNSDKLFKSDFJKSMLDNFKSDFKLSDJFKLSDLFSDLFDS served in. WETKLFSDNKLMFJIOSDFJSDKFNDKLJSFSFNJSDHFFSFSDSDF with stones! MIDJKFNDSFKLJDSFSDNFM,FNSFSDNFSM,DFNSDFNM,SDNNFM, [ 360 ]

paternal paternity, so when he opened his heart to me I said: "Don't worry, for I shall do much more than a great deal for you. Tomorrow morning I will be at your orders." And when I left him I started thinking about how I could extract from his soul one hundred ducats, which he had often waved under my nose, if for nothing else to get me to rush to satisfy him. And I didn't have to fish about in my head for very long before I found it. WETNUSDFD,LFNKJLSDFNSDNFKMSDFJKSDFNSJD MIDWLKFJSDKFNJKSDFSDNFJNSDF WETKLJFNSDMFNSDFSDNFMS MIDWKLFSDFKMSDNJKLSNFSMDNFSDFJSBFJBSDFKJSDFHSJKD strumpet who, because of her figure and large, fat limbs, resembled —that is, in the dark—the matron whom His Reverence sought. As for the rest of her, the Devil himself would not have smelled something fishy. She had satiated the Spaniard's flunkies, as well as the flunkies of the Germans, who had played a fine prank on Rome by sacking it. She had appeased the hungers of the besieged of Florence, not to speak of all the soldiers who were either inside or outside the walls of Milan. Now if she did so well in time of war, you can imagine what great deeds she performed in peacetime in the stables, kitchens, and beer halls. But her fleshly charms made up for and disguised the defects of her virginity. She had two eyes which, contrary to the song that says "two vivid suns," might be called "two dead moons." WETNURFISDFNSDKLMFSJFNSDNFSJKDFSFSD MIDWKFSDFNSDJKFHSDF SDNMFSFHSDFJSKDFSDJJKSDFJKFJS hung swollen on her throat; and it was said that Cupid kept it filled with the rust of his darts, which he had polished for him by his father-in-law the blacksmith. Her tits looked like those litters on which the love goddess carries to the hospital those lovers who fall ill in her service. WETSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSFSDFSDF MIDFSDFSDGSFSFSFSDFSSDFSGDFGDHFGHFSDFSDFSFSDFSFS disguised as the sergeant of a squad, came to my house at the appointed hour, and since he had to wait three more hours, began reading a little book I kept to pass the time. Opening it, he read aloud a part of it which says: [ 361 ]

My lady, to tell the truth, If I do it to you may I die: For I know that you know How in your sweet vulva Love often jousts with crablice. Besides, your ass is so immense That our entire era could enter it. And Love, even without my oath you'll believe me When I say your breath and feet stink harmoniously. So, to tell the truth, If I do it to you, may I die.

When he'd read that, he started laughing so hard he almost burst his heart; and thinking I was laughing because he did, he redoubled his "Ha, ha ha!" He didn't realize that the Midwife unhinged her jaw laughing because the stuff he was getting was just like the woman in the song. WETNSDJKFJSDFSDNFJKSDNFKJSD MIDWILFKSDFKLMSDNJKFSFJNSDJKFNSJKFNJSFSND FFSDFSFS voice: Lady, I want to say it so all can hear: I love you because I haven't much cash. And if I had to buy my pleasures With you at a penny a turn, To tell you the uncomfortable truth, You would sec me less than once a month. Oh you might say That I have said the fire thanks to you Is consuming me little by little. I said so, true enough, but simply as a joke, And I lie a thousand times in my throat.

And he continued to read the rest, which more important concerns have driven from my mind. WEKJDASHDKJASN DJKASDA SDNMASDSDADADFASDFFAD MIDJKASDNASKJDNJKLADNASN DASMD,ANDJKDFSKLJSDMKNS posed in praise of a certain Signora Angela Zaffetta; and I still go [ 362 ]

about chirping it when I have nothing better to do, or rather when troubles are annoying me. WETDIFNSDSDFNSFNSMD,FNSDFSDSD,.FMSDF,.MM,FGSDFM MIDOLFNSDM,FNJKEHFJKSDHFSDSFJKLGJKJKDFFJKLFSJKLL;LDKL by a graveyard sings to overcome his fear, and she who sings while thinking of her anguish does so in order to become brave enough to face it. WFKLJSDFKJSDB FJKEWSFJKSDBNFBSDNFBSDJKFJKLSDFNVNNK Midwife. Let them bawl as much as they wish, out of jealousy and whatever else they wish; but she is incomparable. MIDSDKJFNSDJKFNSDJKFJKSDFNJKSDNFJSNFKSD To be deprived of heaven Is not today the torment Of people born in misfortune. Do you know the pain That grips a damned soul At not being able to gaze at Angela on earth? Only the envy and spite That they feel at our good fortune, And the forlorn hope of ever seeing her Afflicts them at all hours With an eternal dolor. But if they were granted a look at her face, Hell would be transformed into a new Paradise.

WETNFJKSDFNSMDF MJSDNFSDNFM,SNDM,FNSDFSDM,FNSFSGR keep her for whom it was written in good spirits, though it is true that praises don't fill the belly. MIDWDJKFNSDJKFNSDJKFSDFNSDJKLFN,SDNFNSDJFNJKSDFSK this poem three times, and then began with the poem that says: I die, my lady, and keep silent, So ask love all about it, For it burns me as much As it is icy in you.

He didn't finish it because there the page was torn; and seeing an[ 363 ]

other neatly written poem, he wanted to read it, nor could I tear the book out of his hands. I'd like to tell it to you, and yet I shouldn't. WETNROITSNDKJFNSDBJKFSDFHB MIDWHKFS If it can be done, Love, Spread among others' hearts This passion that I feel. My spirits, soul and senses, Because of the pain that you dispense Are undergoing martyrdoms in this immense flesh. And since to be on the amorous crucifix Is an atrocious pain, Your mercy I await at the final gasp. But do not look, O Lord, At my so many pains, For I want to die a lover; And since in suffering The body gains its salvation— Thy will be done!

WETLFKGJSDFJKNJKDFSDF NSDBHJSDJKFSKDFJKSDBFKDSF of divine love; so says Maestro Aretino who, when he was still a student, composed it together with those you've chanted and will still chant. MIDWIOUISFNSDJKFNSHUFSJKFNSDJKFNSDMFNSDKLSDMFSJ flower of his youth. Now the friar, hearing someone knock at the door, threw away the book and ran to the bedroom. I opened for the strumpet and, taking her by the hand, led her straight to him without giving him time to catch his breath. And after closing the bedroom door, I stood there for a while, and then I heard the most brutal rat-tat-tat that was ever pounded out on the door of bawd or whore as the result of some murder or betrayal they'd committed. WETNKJFNSDKFSJLFNSDM,FN SJFNSJKDFNJS MIDWDFIOGJSKLFJLSDFNSDKLF WETNFJKSDNFSJSJKFNJFSD MIDWSFKL;FMSD,FKSDFNSDG WELKGNFSKLNSDLKFKLSFG [ 364 ]

MIDWIFEeI had about thirteen of my brigands accompany thehe poor slut and ordered them to wait there a while and then bang furiously at the door. WETNURSEeWhy do that?at? MIDWLKFNSDKFSDFSDKFNSDKJFSDFNSDJKSDGFGSDFSDFFSD to the monk and said: "Hide under the bed. Quick, but quietly. Alas, we are disgraced. The police chief with all his henchmen at his heels wants to come in and arrest you. Didn't I tell you not to talk about it at the monastery? Don't I know the monkish ways? Don't I know the envy that gnaws at them? Don't I know it?" The friar collapsed like a dead man, and his male lust dropped to the hem of his britches. And not knowing what he was doing, thinking he was slipping under the bed, he propped his knee on the windowsill; and if I hadn't caught him, he would have bounced right out of it. WEIOPFMSD,MFNKSLDFNJ MIDWIFEe The reverend looked like a thief caught redhanded; and the door was still being banged, and they threatened me with furious shouts and cried: "Open up, open up, you witch, or w'e'll bieak it down!" I trembled, and with a face that looked like a sour fritter, said: "Let's quiet them down with money." "Oh, I hope it satisfies them!" the big pig moaned. "Let's try," I answered. He would have paid with all the soup he was going to be fed for the rest of his life, and so he handed me twenty ducats. I appeared at the window and said in a low voice: "Signor Captain, my dear sir, pity and not justice. We are still made of flesh and blood, and therefore his paternity should not be disgraced before either the senator or the general." WETNFSDHFKJSJKLFSLKDFSDMNFSDFSJKSDWERSDJKFNSDM hearing what I hear. MDIUFOFNSDJKFNSKFBSDKJF BSDKJFHSKDJFNSDJKSJKFJKSDF a couple of ducats for them to squander, and I thanked the fake police chief, who said to me: "Your goodness, your pleasantness, and your virtues, my dear Midwife, have lifted the pillory's fool's cap off his head." And so, completely recovered, I roused and flushed out the poor man from where I had hidden him and said: "You just got away with it. When I think of it, things went off quite well; money in the right place will never fail you." Nurse, he tried to work himself up [ 365 ]

into the proper mood so he could remount the mare, but even props wouldn't have held it erect; so he departed without sinning. I satisfied the slut with five julios; and that worm-gut never breathed another word to me about that darling or anything else. WET NURSEe May he take the pest with him! MIDWOIRFNMSDKLFJIFNSDLKNFKLSDFJLSDFLSDSSDSGFSDF you've ever laid eyes on would bar his room at night, the window over his bed, and the windows in the dining room and kitchen, nor would he get into bed before he had looked both behind and under the bed, examined the chests, and even inspected the shit-house. He was suspicious of his relations and his friends, and didn't even want his mother to talk to his mistress, whom he kept hidden. Whoever passed under her room, he would fly into a rage, yelling: "Who is that man? Who is that woman?" When he left the house, he locked and relocked it, setting his seal on top to find out whether someone was deceiving him. No poor man or woman ever knocked at his door without him immediately yelling: "Beat it, you pimps, get away, you bawds." As I have said, I could charm, medicate, and resuscitate everyone with my gift of gab; so I kept my eyes open to see whether the jealous man had any defects and found out that very often he was murdered by a toothache. So I thought out a scheme, and told the man who had it bad for the imprisoned woman: "Don't despair." WETKJFNSD,FMNSDKFNSJFNDJ,FSFMNSDFJSDJKFSFNSDKNF the way you made him. MIFIOSDNFLDNIFONFKLJSDNFJKLSEFSDLKFNLSDFJKLFNKLXNV unknown rogue of mine to the jealous man's door—I mean to the place where he kept the young woman locked up. And I told him to go into a swoon of pain when people were passing by and that, after coming to his senses, he should cry: "I'm going mad. My teeth are killing me." That's just what he did; and as he was shouting and raving he let himself fall down right there, collecting more than thirty people who pitied him because of his pain. He did it so well that the woman, though she had been ordered never to appear at window or door, stepped out on a balcony, attracted by the hubbub. Just then I walked past and, seeing the man on the ground, asked why; and having heard that he was being crucified by a toothache, I said: "Give me room. Never fear—I shall cure you. Open your [ 366 ]

mouth." The rascal opened and I touched the aching tooth. I set above it a crossed straw, muttered a prayer, and after getting him to say the credo three times, drove out the pain. And with everyone astounded by the miracle, I left with a crowd of kids at my heels, who from simplemindedness told everyone about what had happened with the tooth. WETNOIEDNSAKJLDELRASDM,NASDFNSAJSLKDFNMSDFKLD down and then print them? MKJFHNSDJKLFSDIFSDHFKJSFKSNSDFKJSDFLDFNSDFKLSDSDF up. Seeing a mysterious cluster of people talking together at his door, he first suspected that there might have been a brawl; but after hearing the story, he ran to the woman he kept under lock and key and said to her: "Did you see the tooth cured?" "What tooth?" she asked. "Ever since I fell into your hands, I have never even thought of going out, much less of what people shout on the streets. Once I saw you, I saw all the good things in life." After telling her the whole story, the jealous man came to me and showed me the rotten tooth festering in his mouth. I saw it and said: "I should not like to wrong the protector of teeth, and so I do have some scruples— though I am quite ready to take this annoyance out of your mouth. But where do you live?" And the more he tried to tell me, the more I kept dragging it out and delaying. In the end he took me with him and had me shake hands with the woman I had to convert for the sake of ... etc WOIFNSKLFSDIOFJSDKLFMSKLFSKLLKSDSDSDSDFSFDSDFSFD a fraud. You don't have to tell me any more. MIKJFNSDM,FNSDFSDJKFNJKSDFSD FMNSDFKJDNF,M WETOPIFSD,LMFNKJLS MIDWIFEeI had time, eons of it, to pierce my lady's heartart with how deadly it was to live under lock and key and at the mercy of a pest. And since she had a good head on her shoulders and was quite reasonable, she did not keep me long at bay while thinking it over; and not only did she agree to meet a handsome young man, but she actually ran away with him. This isn't what I wanted to tell you, but rather a joke connected with it. WETFOJISDNFM,NFKLSF MSFNS, MIDWSJIDFNSDJKLFNKLSDFNSKLFNKSDJFKSD FGSJKDFFSDFSS [ 367 ]

the jealous bastard didn't have the usual toothache; and since he was afraid of losing me, he extorted from me with gifts, promises, and flattery the secret prayer that cured teeth—that is, he thought he extorted it. But I who had neither prayers nor legends was thinking only of the moment when she whom he held prisoner would run away. And one day I met the husband in church and saw him talking with a friend. I approached him and gave him in a sealed envelope like a letter the following poem: My lady is divine, She passes bergamot in lieu of pee; She shits pure musk, civet, and ambergris; And when perchance she combs her mane, Thousands of rubies from it rain. Forever from her lovely lip Wine, nectar, and ambrosia drip. And where the sweetest morsels hide, Not lice but emeralds abide. In brief, between me and you, Had she a single hole where she has two All those who'd come to scrutinize Would see a pearl before their eyes.

You can well imagine, my dear Nurse, how he reacted and what that insanely jealous man said when he read that verse—and especially when he did not find his lady at home. WETNURSEeI've imagined it all in beautiful detail.il. MIDWIFEeFor some time now I've wanted to tell you how hardard a bawd must work to get those wool-spinners, silk-winders, threadreelers, weavers, sewers, and others to lift their skirts. You know that if we could visit the mansions of great ladies as we can visit their houses, and speak to them with the same safety, we would be able to arrange these ladies in our particular way without the slightest disarrangement along the way. Poor girls, though, have one fixed idea: obstinately they keep on repeating: "I want to get married"; and they seem to think that once they have a husband, they can then go on display everywhere. And since they are not accustomed to drink wine and eat meat very rarely, they are not con[ 368 ]

cerned about the luxuries they could get by giving themselves to men. So there they are, naked and without petticoats, sleeping in the hay, remaining awake through all the nights of winter and summer to earn their bread by exhausting labor. And when they do come to us, it's because we have harassed and pestered their mothers, grandmothers, aunts, and sisters and they have, been forced to do it. I know many of them whose husbands squander all they earn, get drunk, beat them, trample on them, and drag them down the stairs, and they bear all these misfortunes so as to live an honest life and have a husband. WETNURHJIKD ASMNDKASDAJDBMASND MIDOIFNSDKJFDSDFSDIFNSDKJLFNSDFSDKNFSDNFFSDFSFSDS single glance is enough to corrupt virginities of iron, steel, and porphyry, much less virginities of flesh. Bar your doors and your windows as much as you wish; the little skeleton key of my ingenuity can open everything, no matter how small the lock. The Midwife, you say? Her like is not born every day, no, by my faith, and hers are talents which are bestowed at birth. Let whoever wants to, go on gabbing; she would not trade her profession with that of any artisan; and if she hadn't been displaced by those high-class pimps I mentioned before, captains and doctors themselves would sit below her. And if I wanted to tell you about all the great men and all the handsome youths who let themselves fall on our bodies, I would not furnish it forth in a month. All those men who draw a blank give vent to their feelings on our little piece of flesh, and so without sighs or tears we enjoy that which could keep the grandest ladies of the land in good spirits. WETOINSDMKNFNSKLNSFKSJKFJNSDM,FSD,FNSDFSDFSDSD the fellow you put in a lather of passion by telling him how the woman looked under her dress—the woman whom you got him to believe would have come to visit him if her husband, or whoever he was, had not returned from the country. MILKFS,LDFSKLFDJSNFKJLFSFDNSDM,FNSDJKFJKSDDASDHBDJ things short by describing enchantments. And I shall first tell you the gibberish we use to decide whether a pregnant woman will have a male or a female child, whether lost objects will be found, whether a marriage will come off or not, whether one should go .on a voy[ 369 ]

age, whether a deal will make a profit, whetrher such a man loves you, whether he has other mistresses, whether his anger will be appeased, whether a lover will soon return, and suchlike foolishness of dazed, dumb women. WEKRFN SDM,LFKNSFJKLSDFJLSDJLHKLDFJSDILFJLKFMSLK ceiving simpleminded men and women. MIDWLKFSDNFM,SNFJKSFHNSDJLFKSLDFJKSFJLKSDFKSDKDLF it brightly, and at the bottom of a pierced glass stuck a pivot, that is, a thin spike on which the sole of the cherub's foot was fixed, so that a puff of breath would turn her. The lily she held in her hand was made of iron, and to bewitch her I would hold a wand on whose tip was a magnet. So when I brought the wand close to the iron, she would turn as it wished; and when a man or a woman wanted to know whether she or he was loved or whether peace would be made again with this person or that, I would spit out a string of oaths, mutter all sorts of jagged, disjointed words, and perform miracles with my wand, whose magnet made the iron lily twirl about—and so the cherub pointed to a lie as if it were the truth. WETNFKSDMFSD,LFKLSDFNKSJNFKS FKJSD FM,S MIDWLFKSDFLKMNSDKJFKSFNSJKLFNSDFJ KMLDFSDFNKSFSF told the truth, and since that cherub seemed quite overwhelming to those who were unaware of the trickery, there were many people who thought that all the demons in hell were at my beck and call. But now to the bean-throwing. WEFOISDFNSDKLFMISFSF SNDMFKSKLDSDNFSDFSFSDFSFSD heard that it produces absolute marvels. MIDOIFNSKLMFNKSLDFNKSJNFJKSF SKLDJNF,MSFNLKSFNM,SF very much; it is employed in Venice, and there are people who believe in it as Lutherans believe in Brother Martin, the traitorous heretic. FLKSFLKSMFKLSFNSDNF,MSDNFSDNFMSD MIDLFKNSDM,FNSDJKFNUSNF JKSDNFJKSDN F,MSDNFSDNFFSD male beans. Then, biting them with your teeth, you mark two of them, that is, a woman and a man, and you put them together with some holy wax, a palm leaf, and white salt, things which stand for lovers' sexual torment and passion. Next you take some coals, which signify the suitor's fury, and you also take some plaster from the fireplace to find out when he will come home. Oh where did I [ 370 ]

leave the bread? Well, to these aforementioned fripperies you add a slice of bread, which denotes the goods he will bring you. After this you take a half bean beyond the number of eighteen, and this half bean signifies good or evil. When you have collected the beans, wax, palm leaf, salt, plaster, and bread, you put them all together, and with both hands mix them up and toss them about a bit with your mouth agape, make the sign of the cross over them; and if your rnouth, which is above it, yawns, it is a good sign because yawns mean success. When your client has also made the sign of the cross, the following words are pronounced: Hail Lady St. Helena, Queen. Hail Mother of Constantine, Emperor. Mother you were and mother you are. To the holy sea you wended and with eleven thousand virgins you blended. An even greater number of knights you tended, and the holy table befriended. With three clover hearts cast the spell you sought, the Holy Cross down you brought. Mount Calvary you did climb, and the whole great world with light did chime. Again you mix, scatter, and winnow the beans and other things and, after making the sign of the cross, the yawns coming in between, you say: For the hands that sowed them, by the land that grows them, by the rain that wet them, and by the sun that dried them, I beg you to show me the truth. If this man loves her, make it so that on these beans 1 can find him next to her. If he shall speak to her soon, make it so that I can find her mouth to mouth with him. And if he will come shortly, make it so that it will appear on these beans. And if he will give her money, make it so that I can find the beans in a cross beside her. Or if he sends me anything, show me the truth on this slice of bread. Then you pick up the beans and with three knots tie them in a piece of linen, and for each knot you recite these words: / am not tying these beans but rather the heart of So-and-So, [ 371 ]

who can never have happiness, nor rest, nor peace in any place, eat or drink, sleep or stay awake, walk or sit, read or write, speak with man or woman, work, do or say anything until he comes to her and loves only her. Then you swing the piece of linen in which the beans are tied three times over your head and let it fall on the floor, and if it falls with the knot uppermost it signifies love in the lover. Having performed all the bagatelles that I have said, you tie the bag to the left leg of the woman who is having the spell cast, and when she goes to sleep she puts it under her pillow and so gives the passion hammer to the man and ends all her worries and doubts. WETNURSEeI don't understand that "Make it so that I canan find her mouth to mouth with him. And if he will come shortly, make it so that it will appear on these beans." MIDWIFEeThis means: make it so the male bean touches thethe female bean; and if it falls when you mix them, that means he will come to her. WETNURSEeNow I understand it, yes, yes. And I swear, I, I like it very much. MIDWIFEeThey say that Saint Helena rises three times fromom her chair whenever one casts a spell with her prayer, and that it is a sin that buying indulgences at the stations of ten Lents will not wipe out. I have seen it believed by persons you never would have thought capable of it. And I think . . . WETNURSEeWhat?at? MIDWIFEeThat when I told you the enchantment of the cork or cherub I forgot the prayer, which you say five times before you wave the wand over the lily. WETNURSEeI also thought that something was missing. Tellell it now. MIDWIFEe Cherub bountiful, Cherub beautiful, Saint Raphael, my lord, In the name of your sword And your big bird's wings Pray grant me these things:

[ 372 ]

If this he holds that she in his sway, Turn that way. If another is to give him bliss, Turn to this.

WETNURSEeHow many tall tales people say and believe!ve! MIDWIFEeThey say and believe them, eh? One can never getget to the bottom of other people's simplemindedness; and you can be sure that anyone who counted the rogues and rough guys would not find fewer fools than scoundrels. WETNURSEeI have no doubts about that.at. MIDWIFEEWhen you cast the spell of the wax, you take fourour pennies of virgin wax and a new pot, put it on the fire with the said wax, and when it begins to warm up you recite the invocation and then take a glass that's no longer used and throw it into the melted wax. And as soon as it has cooled, you see in it everything that you can ask. WETNURSEeTell me the invocation.on. MIDWIFEeme.Some other time. WETNURSEeWhy not now?w? MIDWIFEEI have made a vow not to tell it on this particularlar day; but I shall teach you the oath of the Our Father, the enchantment of the egg, and even the sieve for bolting flour, in which they stick scissors, together with the invocation of St. Peter and St. Paul. But all these are playthings, traps, and trkks, and are closely tied to the wickedness of women who commit such obscenities. But since everyone readily credits that which helps him, the bawd palms off the lies of these enchantments as the truth, and since sometimes a few do come true, they make up for the others that go awry. WETNURSEEIt seems to me that the story of vows can bebe found there. MIDWIFEELet's not slander vows, for one can mock servantsnts but not saints; and you would do well to clap your hand over your mouth, proclaiming your guilt as you do. But now I'm absolutely exhausted from talking; and so I'm rather reluctant to tell you how I, having nothing better to do, would hang around the houses of out-oftowners at six or seven o'clock in the evening, rap at their doors, though I never answered to that "Who's down there?" The truth is [ 373 ]

that, when the servant came, I'd say: "Doesn't his lordship Messer Soand-So live here?" And he, catching sight of the glitter of this or that strumpet whom I usually brought with me, would reply: "Yes, my dear woman, come right up. He's been waiting two hours for you." And he said that because he thought he had caught me out, and also to give some entertainment to his master, who liked little whores. I had informed myself of this in advance, so I had come to see him on purpose. When I entered the house, he would lock the door behind me so I couldn't leave; and when we got upstairs, I would cry out in dismay that it wasn't the house of the man who was expecting me! Instead we were put at the head of the table; and if nothing else, a dinner and an escort back to our rooms were inevitable parts of the evening. I would usually leave the slut behind to sleep with him, sometimes picking up a few julios and ducats into the bargain. WETNURSEEI don't mind this kind of shrewdness.sss MIDWIFEESometimes I would go to visit a man whom I hadn'tn't seen for two years. And hiding the nymph I had brought along to hire out, I would bang on his door; and when I heard the reply, I would say: "Tell the messer that I am that certain woman." He would come to see me personally, saying: "I thought you were someone else. Why, I haven't seen you in a month of Sundays. But how are things with you?" And I would say: "Good, and I'm at your service. I happened to pass down this street, and I decided to visit you. I wanted to come and see you a hundred times, but then I didn't dare because I didn't want to bother you." And with all this chatter I stuck him with the goddess, whom I lugged around with me everywhere. WETNURSEE Now don't tire yourself any more. Once you've told me how I can hide this scar from the French disease that I have on the top of my forehead, and this slash from a stab that you can see in the middle of my right cheek, we're finished. MIDWIFEEWhat! Hide the scar and the slash? I want you totoo keep them on show. By God, you must keep them because that slash and scar signify and demonstrate the perfection of the bawd's profession; and just as the wounds soldiers receive in battle make them seem more valiant and more skilled, so the scars of the French disease and the slashes of daggers show clearly to others the bawd's [ 374 ]

great ability. Indeed, these are the pearls that adorn her. So let's forget it. After all, you couldn't tell the difference between one pharmacy or another, one tavern and the next, if there weren't signs: The Moor Apothecary, the Tawny Apothecary, the Angel Apothecary, the Doctor's Apothecary, the Coral Apothecary, the Rose Apothecary, and the Apothecary of the Armed Man. And here is the Hare Inn, the Moon Inn, the Peacock Inn, the Two Swords Inn, the Tower Inn, and the Hat Inn. And if it weren't for the coats-of-arms pasted on the bags carried by certain wretches riding a broken-winded nag stuffed with bran, who could tell the real lords from the rascals that carry their baggage? So scars and slashes are necessary to the bawd, just as brands are needed on horses. You would never know what breed they were if there wasn't a brand on their withers; and I'll tell you even more: they wouldn't have a price on them if they appeared at the horse fair without a distinguishing mark. Here the Midwife stopped and, standing up, told, the Wet nurse, Pippa, and Nanna to do likewise. Then, seeing the lunch table set, she moistened her tongue and lips, which were dried up by too much talking. Then she listened to Nanna, who praised her for what she had said and confessed with amazement that all the bawds in the world put together did not know as much as she alone. After this, Nanna turned to the Wetnurse and said: "This peach tree which has heard'this fine discourse could run a school on what it remembered, so just imagine what you will be able to accomplish"; then she advised her daughter to keep in mind all that she had heard. In the meantime the Midwife was sipping the wine, highly praising whoever had made it; and as the old and pungent Corso bit and kissed her, bringing tears to her eyes, she went into a kind of ecstasy, not even listening to Nanna, who was cross with herself because in her first conversation she had forgotten one point, that is, to teach Pippa how to handle men who had failed to do it either because of her or because of their own shortcomings. It seemed to her a serious enough matter to warrant a few words, since all women drive such men to the gallows, not wanting to remember or see them any more. But she didn't go into it, for the Midwife had begun to stroll about the garden and to examine it carefully, saying: "Nanna, this [ 375 ]

spare-time hobby of yours is a delightful place. Oh, what a lovely garden," she went on. "Certainly it puts to shame the Chigi gardens in the Trastevere and Fra Mariano's garden on Monte Cavallo. It's a pity that this plum tree is withering. But look, just look, this pergola is covered with the blossoms of sweet and sour grapes. And Good Lord, all those pomegranates, both ripe and half-ripe. I know them, and you must gather them now if you don't want them to be stolen by someone else. Oh, that beautiful trellis of jasmine! those lovely vases of box! and that marvelous hedge of rosemary! But look at this miracle—September roses, for goodness sake. And black figs, do you see? You know, 1 have decided to come here between April and May, and I want to fill my bosom and my lap with the violets I can see here. Yes, all these buds of damask violets! To say it in a word, the beauties of this small paradise have made me forget that it is already evening; and so Lady Mint, Mistress Marjoram, Madame Pimpernel, and Messer Orange Blossom will forgive me for not being able to make love to them. I swear on my life, everything here is sweet and radiant. How mild a breeze is blowing—and the air and the site! By this cross, Nanna, if there were only a fountain that spurted water on high or bubbled over its rim, gradually wetting the grass down through its runnels, you could well call this place not just the kitchen plot of kitchen plots but the very garden of gardens." So said the Midwife, and since she felt that the time to go home had come, after she had kissed Pippa and said "Good evening and a good year," she left with the Wetnurse to go where they had to go. And so ends the third and last day.

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AFTERWORD Raymond Rosenthal (Original preface to the 1971 edition)

Pietro Aretino is a complicated writer, steeped in both health and corruption of the last phase of the Italian Renaissance of which he is rightly considered a representative figure, and the famous or notorious Dialogues is a highly complicated work. It has called forth greatly divergent responses from its critics. (I leave aside, as not worth discussing, all those who turned from it in horror due to its outspokenness.) At one extreme are those who see it as a body blow to sexual hypocrisy, a cool account of what men and women do to and with each other in the pursuit of their pleasure, an u n d e r g r o u n d book t h a t became such because it told the truth without fuss or equivocation. At the other extreme are those who see it as the anguished cry of a stifled moralist and preacher, who, after a lifetime of flattering and b l a c k m a i l i n g the great and powerful and the society they embodied, suddenly loosed the floodgates of his disgust and told the truth, invoking the image of mercenary love to express his deepest feelings about the greed and bestiality of his times. [ 377 ]

In the first instance, the Dialogues would appear to be a work of rather straightforward realism, embellished to be sure with verbal fireworks and curious digressions, yet essentially documentary in tone and purpose and speaking straight from the salutary heart of the best Humanist tradition. In the second view, it takes on the slashing, ironic accents of a satire; its subject matter becomes a weird, gloomy masquerade, a depiction of human misery whose most grotesque expression is the act of human copulation, which is immersed in the stink given off by limbs destined to putrefy. His men are goaded to love-making by gross and v u l g a r lust; his women do not have even this excuse, but do it out of simple greed, for the money. That lust and that greed provide the basis for the deceptive, entrapping machinery of the social world, in which money, ambition, and cynical power rule. Aretino, a nihilist before his time, defies his age by showing it its own miserable and distorted face in the mirror of its most degraded characters and their acts. I have brought forward these two views of Aretino's book because the book itself is varied and commodious enough to contain both, at least partially. The first view surely has less to recommend it. It is a typical example of the firmly ideological mind at work—the ideological mind of the fighter for sexual freedom—finding what it intends to find at all costs. True enough, Aretino does strike a blow against sexual hypocrisy, but it is a glancing blow, hardly a forthright wallop. Aretino's sexual frankness is at best an ambiguous affair, mixed up with other concerns and muddied by a satiric humor which has much different targets in view. Indeed, in speaking of freedom, we should realize that nobody suffers more from the tyranny of sex in its crudest aspects than the chief characters in the dialogues—Nanna admits to have robbed, lied, swindled, and murdered because of sex, while Antonia bears on her body the boils and scars left by syphilis, contracted in the practice of her profession as a prostitute. [ 378 ]

So what is left of Aretino the liberator from oppressive convention, the celebrator of sexual joy? Not very much. If anything, simply the tone of his work as a whole, which, being plebeian, is per force crude and frank. As for pleasure, enjoyment? These things Aretino hardly ever associated with sex; on the contrary, when feelings of tenderness or peace manage to steal onto the scene—in the interludes that suddenly, inexplicably crop up between the bouts of raging invective and scorn—they are most often produced or evoked by some conscious piece of artistry or fabrication, such as a musical concert, a dancer's performance, a beautiful dinner table set by two devoted nuns, a hermitage built by an eccentric monk. Aretino is much too conscious an opponent of the reigning Humanist conception of Platonic love promulgated by the philosophers and the poet Petrarch to allow his sexual partners even a modicum of tenderness and affection. I believe that there is more to support the second view of Aretino as a moral-minded satirist in the book's tone and texture, though certainly not in its overall form and intellectual design. It is a satire in the original sense of the word, that is satura, a hash or melange. For when critics accuse Aretino of lacking a lofty intellectual purpose, a controlling conception, they are only reporting the facts of the case. Aretino is an improviser of genius, but still only an improviser. Out of this genius comes a verbal exuberance, a talent for malign observation, a gift for piling up sarcastic details—an innocence of eye and spirit, so improbably conjoined with sophistication and cynicism, that produces the astonishing p r o f u s i o n which, as Northrop Frye has pointed out, typifies satire in one of its most characteristic moods. As Frye also says, the satirist must "bear down his opponent by sheer weight of words, and hence be a master of that technique of torrential abuse which we call invective." That is the art brought to a dazzling polish by the Elizabethans Nashe, [ 379 ]

Dekker, and Urquhart—the "art of verbal tempest, the tremendous outpouring of words in catalogues, abusive epithets, and erudite technicalities." In this art, too, Aretino can be considered a master, although often his effects are somewhat muffled by the demands of the dramatic form he has adopted. He can also carry off those "weirdly logical fantasies of debauch, dream and delirium" which, as so often in satire, counterpose the bewildering variety and breadth of the practical world to the neat but faulty abstractions of philosophers and sages; and he can approximate "the riotous chaos of Rabelais, Petronius and Apuleius [where] satire plunges through to its final victory over common sense." But the victory is never quite final, perhaps because Aretino is too Italian and too hard-headed, loath to inflate this images beyond the bounds of credibility. Nanna rules her fantastic, depraved world, and in ruling it employs the same brutal devices used by the rulers in the palaces—but that intellectual ingredient necessary to satire, an explicit or implicit counterposition of the good to the bad, is never sufficiently there and imaginatively present to lift the Dialogues to the level of true and completely satisfactory satire. Once its satiric content is suggested, however, Aretino's book immediately assumes another, deeper aspect. It was an Italian critic, Massimo Bontempelli, who first advanced the idea, and he seems to have been impelled to it by his appreciation of how much in Aretino's work was a criticism of the age in which he lived and flourished. Bontempelli's is perhaps too sweeping a rehabilitation of the "infamous Aretino," too peremptory an attempt to give him a moral standpoint; and yet to any attentive reader of this book it becomes immediately apparent that such an interpretation is borne out by a thousand details and a pervasive rhythm and texture. Nanna, Antonia, and x Pippa are always on the verge of becoming the monstrous, inflated puppets of some gigantic, obscene charade that intends to display "the blasted world of repulsiveness and idiocy, a world without pity [ 380 ]

and without hope"; but, again, something holds Aretino back from this final leap into the satiric other-world inhabited by such masterpieces as Gulliver's Travels and Volpone. It was, I believe, a very human love for his main characters that got in Aretino's way. For this ferocious satirist of human folly and greed is also a great innocent, a kind of prehensile but mild anima—we see him in Titian's overpowering portraits— who can describe a glass of water, a distracted lover, an absentminded professor as though all these things and persons were being seen for the first time. It is this quality also that distinguishes his erotic writing from the manufactured pornography of the modern era, which is so patently addressed to the weakness and vices of the individual, lone and alienated. Aretino's eroticism has the vigor and health of a public spectacle—a sort of morality play for the populace—which thereby divests it of any perverse or sickly intention. Not only was it the first erotic book in the Christian world to be written in the vulgar tongue of ordinary speech—the speech which as De Sanctis said was to become that of all educated Italians—it was also, paradoxically, the last erotic book to describe the "filth" of commercial love without, itself, being filthy or vicious. Indeed this is Aretino's true genius, the sheer capacity of sensual good spirits which somehow touches his most revolting scenes with freshness and charm.

Aretino boasted that he was "born in a hospital with the spirit of a k i n g , " and a f t e r a r o a m i n g life t h a t shuttled among Florence, Perugia, M a n t u a , and Rome he settled in Venice where he did become a king of sorts, indeed a lord of the pen who was called "the scourge of princes." "I live," he declared, "by the sweat of my ink-pot," and he made no effort to conceal [ 381 ]

the fact that many of his ink-pot emanations were forthright demands on the rich and powerful for hush-money, that is, to forestall his inevitable scathing assaults if the money wasn't forthcoming. Venice was his fortress, impregnable, a predominantly mercantile city that prided itself on its freedom from the dogmatic constraints that hampered Rome and other Italian cities. The free market—and Venice was its most brilliant exemplar at that time—extended its bounty from the merchants with all of Europe and the East as their trading partners, the nobles and courtiers in the palaces, all the way down to the courtesans in the villas and the street walkers on the piazzas. For most of Aretino's fruitful years as a writer, Venice was the glistening paradise of wealth and easy-going morals. People whose coffers are full and whose pockets clink with gold coins rarely cry out in protest against their lot or the system that put that wealth at their disposal. So the question is: why did Aretino write the Dialogues, which are so obviously a rancorous satiric picture of precisely the kind of lax morals and pervasive corruption that he and all of Venice wallowed in? First of all, just to be on the safe side, he set the Dialogues in Rome and went out of his way to deride a number of actual persons there, either naming them openly or presenting them under thinly veiled nicknames. But we can understand this rebellious stance better if we look back over his life. When he was securely ensconced in his post as a flayer of the avaricious and arrogant, he had assembled a kind of court around him, composed of young men with literary ambitions. One of these, Nicolo Franco, was invaluable because he had Latin and Greek and so could help Aretino, who even though scornful of pedants and scholars, strewed his writings here and there with the obligatory classical references and quotations. After a time Franco became restive under Aretino's demanding regime, they quarreled, and the upshot was Franco's angry departure from the fold and, a few years later, an acerbic attack on the master. [ 382 ]

Curiously, Franco thought that a description of the jobs that filled Aretino's vagabond youth would help to undermine his position. Aretino, he claimed, had sung for his supper on the streets of Vicenza, had pretended to be a mendicant f r i a r , worked as a stable boy in Bologna, ran errands for money lenders and tax collectors. He had also driven mules, held ladders for hangmen, was sent to the galleys for some crime, was a messenger, a pimp, a mountebank, a con man, a scholar's groom, and worse. This catalogue of menial occupations might well have been half true, like most gossip; but that half, quite plausibly, came directly from Aretino's lips, as he bragged to his young assistant about the hardships he had endured on his way up to his present eminence. And how is this an explanation of his otherwise inexplicable attack on late Renaissance hypocrisy? Now on top of the social heap, he had looked back at all those events and persons that had accompanied his youth. Almost as a reflex, impulsively, he had set about getting his own back for all the greasy humiliations and insults he had suffered during his years as a lackey in various homes and courts. And, brilliantly, he did this in and through the person of Nanna, whose voice, cynical, worldweary, witty and melodiously abrupt, dominates the entire work, even when she is not at the center of the stage. This is one of the great impersonations in literature, to be set alongside Defoe's Moll Flanders and Zola's Nana. It is doubly impressive when one considers all that Aretino packed into Nanna's seemingly offhand discourse. It has been pointed out by scholars and critics that the Dialogues contain a revelatory sociological description of the condition of women in the late Italian Renaissance, an encyclopedia of sexual acts, a startlingly graphic view from below of the antics and expedients of all social classes and categories—from dukes to day laborers—in their panting pursuit of amoristic pleasure. And I would add, a compendium of folk wisdom with special emphasis on the tra[ 383 ]

vails that go hand in hand with sex in all its many expressions. Seen in its entirety, the Dialogues are a folk song that offers up for our amusement an array of proverbs, witticisms, a lexicon of low-life lingo, short and incisive forays into table manners for working whores, disquisitions on Italian as it is spoken, properly and improperly, a procession of Italian and international types, and countless other arcane and evident m a t t e r s t h a t flow through Nanna's alert and capacious mind. "The whole thing is a game, yet you must do it quickly and by your own hand." That is Aretino describing how he went about writing the Dialogues, and his countless other prose works. Like many inspired auto-didacts, he had a theory or formula for almost everything, but his aggressive omnivorousness is always palliated by his wit. For example, here are his thoughts on poetry: "Oh errant tribe, I tell you and repeat to you, that poetry is a caprice of nature in the grip of joy; it rises from a man's own impulse; and if the gift be not there his verse is nothing more than a tambourine without jingling disks or a bell-tower without bells. . . . Nature herself, of whose simplicity I am the secretary, tells me what I am to compose." Some scholar has found that at that particular period of the Renaissance, which loved to engage in abstruse debate, there were forty-six different definitions for the idea of Nature. Without delving into that thicket, it can be said with assurance that what Aretino meant by the word was what he thought to see, sense, touch, smell, palp, and write about. His prose glitters with plastic expressiveness; we see the dandies scuttling after the courtesans, the old men writhing under the sway of unfulfilled lust, the prostitutes bilking, cajoling, deluding and tricking their suitors, as they swarmed about them "like wasps at the gurgle of a basin or bees around flowers" (p. 119). As De Sanctis, the great Italian critic, says, "A critical consciousness so direct, so decided, as Aretino's must have seemed an extraordinary thing in those days. What he was as a critic, [ 384 ]

such he was also as a writer. The last thing he thinks of is words. He welcomes them all, no matter where they come from, or what they are, noble or plebeian, harsh or soft, humble or sonorous." Now it is true that he may not think of style or form but his gift supplies him on the spur of the moment with phrases like "the hour had come when one chases the heat with the fan of chitchat" (p. 59), or "a wine that kisses and bites" (p. 383), or "the Knight minced forward, so to speak, in Latin" (p. 76). The words flock impetuously to his mind and pen. When he needs a word that doesn't exist, he invents a compound to figure forth the real pangs of erotic lust and speaks of the "passion-hammers"; 'When he intends to deride and denigrate he strings together his insults: "plate-licker, broth-face, vintage-guzzler, fart-shooter, etc." (p. 95); and when he depicts utter desolation and bewilderment he says: "he behaved like a lost cat in the wrong house whose tail has been roasted" (p.96). In this prose full of gesticulations, vivid, allusive, so close to the halts and gaps, the hesitations and slurrings of ordinary speech there are strewn the nuggets of folk wisdom in the form of proverbs and witty sayings. As the poet Giuseppe Giusti said, they are true folk creations because they are vivacious and concise, sprightly and outspoken: "She knew that respectability is the ruin of sensuality, that delay leads to prohibition, and that to repent is death" (p. 79); "But one thorn doesn't make a hedge, nor one ear of wheat a harvest" (p. 163); "You need art or luck to get though the undergrowth, and all the rest is just bells to hand on a cat's neck" (p. 165); "Adulation and deceit are, as they say, the darlings of the grandees" (p. 185); "We women are wise without thought and foolish after thought" (p. 151); "God save me from the tender mercies of clodhoppers" (p. 80); "There is no higher mountain than the one that's built up little by little and sedulously" (p. 117); "The majority of courtiers are like snails; they carry their houses on their backs and have nothing else to their names" (p. 117). [ 385 ]

This translation could not have been accomplished if it were not for the brilliant annotated edition of Aretinos' Dialogues r e c e n t l y published by L a t e r z a in I t a l y under the title Sei Giornate and edited by the Renaissance scholar, Giovanni Aquilecchia. Signer Aquilecchia not only established a clear and readable t e x t , shorn of c o r r u p t i o n s and mistakes, but also appended a glossary which clarifies the meanings of hundreds of Renaissance Italian terms, proverbs, and puns which made the translation of Aretino's book so formidable a task in the past. I have tried to be as off-hand, spontaneous, and unliterary as Aretino himself; I can only hope that some of the verbal inventiveness and flamboyance of the original have survived my effort at coherence and clarity.

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CHRONOLOGY ARETINO'S LIFE 14922 Pietro Aretino is born at Arezzo on 20 April to Margherita (Tita) Bond, the wife of a shoemaker, Luca Del Tura. His father abandoned the family, when his wife became the mistress of a local nobleman, Luigi Bacci. Later in life, Aretino took the name of his birthplace and made it famous.

1506-7 Aretino leaves Arezzo at the age of 14 for Perugia, where he works in a painter's studio and later in the shop of a bookseller. For his memories of Perugia, see the end of his letter (26 January 1536) to a friend in that town: "the garden where my youth came to flower."

15122 Publishes in Venice his first book of poetry: Opera Nova di strambottisonetti' capitoli epistole barzellette & una desperata (New work of folk lyrics, sonnets, burlesques in terza rima, epistles, comic songs, and a lament).

HISTORY

ART

Muslim Moors are driven out of Granada by Spanish king Ferdinand V. Lorenzo de' Medici dies. Christopher Columbus, looking for Asia, begins his voyage to the New World. By means of simony, Rodrigo Borgia assumes the papacy as Alexander VI. The Treaty of Etaples between French king Charles VIII and English king Henry VII ends war with France with Great Britain renouncing all claims on the continent (except Calais).

Margaret of Navarre, Queen consort of Henry II of Navarre, is born. In Milan, Donate Bramante begins work on the cupola and the choir of Santa Maria delle Grazie. Opera, a treatise on music by the philosopher Boethius, is published in Venice. Hieronymus Bosch paints The Temptations of Saint Anthony.

Machiavelli organizes a militia in Florence. Sigismund I accedes to the throne of Poland. Ferdinand V of Spain regains control of Castile after a two-year struggle.

The Laocoon is discovered in Rome. Bramante begins to rebuild St. Peter's. Andrea Mantegna dies. Albrecht Durer paints The feast of the Rose Garlands in Venice.

Spanish and Papal troops are defeated by French forces at Ravenna. The republican government of Florence collapses when the Medici return and reassert their control over the city. Selim I comes to power in the Ottoman Empire and becomes the self-proclaimed leader of the Muslim world.

Italian architect Galeazzo Alessi is born. Raphael paints Julius II's portrait as well as the fresco Galatea in the Farnesina. Michelangelo completes work on the Sistine Chapel begun in 1508. Vittoria Colonna composes Epistola.

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1517 After a brief stay in Siena, where he has relatives, Aretino goes to Rome and is taken in by the banker and merchant Agostino Chigi. He later enters the entourage of a cardinal, where he makes important friends; but balked in his ambitions, he leaves Rome to wander about the North of Italy. As soon as Leo X becomes Pope, he returns to Rome and is given the post of valet with the new Pope; he soon becomes a figure in the in the cultural and artistic world, enjoying friendships with Raphael, Sebastiano del Piombo and lacopo Sansovino. 1521 The death of Leo X again spells trouble for Aretino. He participates actively in support of the candidacy of a medicean Pope, while writing violently satiric squibs against the very man who will be elected Pope, a Flemish candidate who took the name Hadrian VI. These squibs, owing to their wit and adeptness, made Aretino famous all over Europe but intensely disliked in Rome. 1523 Forced to leave Rome, Aretino joins Giovanni delle Bande Nere and becomes his secretary. During the same year he is in Florence with Cardinal Giulio de' Medici, then in Mantua at the court of Federico Gonzaga, of whom he becomes a favorite. When Hadrian VI dies and Giulio de' Medici is elected Pope as Clement VII, Aretino returns to Rome in November.

The Protestant Reformation begins in Germany after Martin Luther nails his Ninety-five Theses to the door of the church in Wittenburg on 31 October. A year later Charles V, newly-crowned Holy Roman Emperor, signs the Treaty of Cambrai with France, briefly halting the Italian Wars. Martin Luther burns a papal bull condemning his views and is subsequently excommunicated by Pope Leo X.

The first edition of Teofilo Folengo's Maccheronee is printed in Venice. Sebastiano del Piombo cornmences work on the Raising of Lazarus, and Andrea del Sarto on Uno scultore, conjectured to be a portrait of his friend lacopo Sansovino. The following year Raffaello Sanzio dies, while Michelangelo produces his final design for the Medici Chapel,

On 19 November, Charles V and papal forces march on Milan. The French abandon the city and Francesco Sforza is proclaimed Duke. Martin Luther summoned before Diet of Worms on 17 April and refuses to recant; the Edict of Worms of 25 May declares him a heretic and bans him from the Holy Roman Empire. Leo X dies on 24 November

Sebastian Brant, German satirist and author of The Ship of Fools, dies. Portrait of a Man is painted by Luca di Leida.

Pope Adrian VI dies. On 19 November, Giulio de' Medici is elected Pope Clement VII. Sir Thomas More is made Speaker of the House of Commons. Charles V's league is joined by Venice,

Gaspara Stampa is born at Padova. The Italian painter Perugino and the German sculptor Adolf Daucher die. Titian paints Bacchus and Ariadne. Lorenzo Lotto paints Young Man in His Study. Hans Holbein the Younger produces a portrait of Erasmus.

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1524 After a bitter dispute with papal datary Giovanni Giberti over the imprisonment of Marcantonio Raimondi, who made etchings of sixteen erotic drawings by Giulio Romano, Aretino obtains Raimondi's release by appealing to the Pope. He then wrote the Sonetti sopra I "XVI modi" (Sonnets on the 16 ways of doing it) to accompany the etchings). A serious scandal ensues which forces Aretino to leave Rome; he takes refuge in the camp of Giovanni delle Bande Nere. In November, apparently reconciled with the Pope and Giberti, he r e t u r n s to Rome. 1525 The first draft of the play // cortigiano (The Courtier) is written but remains unpublished. On the night of 28 July, an attempt is made on Aretino's life by Achille della Volta, who is believed to have had the support of papal datary Giberti; Aretino escapes with deep wounds on his hands and face from dagger thrusts. 1526 Aretino follows Giovanni delle Bande Nere on the military campaign of the League of Cognac against the Imperial troops until Giovanni's death in combat in November; Aretino is deply moved and chagrined by his death, which he describes in a letter to Francesco Albizi, recalling "the grandeur of his thoughts and the ferocity of his valor" (10 December 1526).

On 28 October, the French lay siege to Pavia. James V is made King of Scotland. In June, the Peasants' War begins in southern Germany against the repressive policies of the nobility and the clergy. New York Bay and the Hudson River are discovered by Giovanni de Verrazano.

Portuguese poet Luis Vaz de Camoens is born. Andrea del Sarto completes work on the fresco Visitation in the cloister of the Scalzi in Florence. Martin Schaffner completes The Presentation in the Temple. Titian cornpletes L'Uomo dal guanto. French poet and leader of the Pleiad school, Pierre de Ronsard, is born. Sofosniba, a tragedy by Gian Giorgio Trissino, is published in Rome,

On 24 February, the French army suffers a major defeat at Pavia; Francis I is captured and imprisoned. The successful defense of Pavia by Spanish and German forces under Emperor Charles V leaves Venice isolated. The Peasants' War, denounced by Luther, is ruthlessly crushed in Germany in May.

Pietro Bembo's Prose delta volgar lingua is published. Pontormo paints the frescoes in the Certosa di Galluzzo. Pedro Machuca completes Deposition.

On 14 January, the Treaty of Madrid is signed by Francis I. The League of Cognac is created by Clement VII against Charles V. The Ottoman victory over Hungarian king Louis II at the battle of Mohacs leaves northern Hungary Ottoman domination. Prussia is transformed into the secular Duchy of Brandenburg,

Parmigianino begins work on The Vision of Saint Jerome. Vittoria colonna begins composing the Rime profane. Diirer paints The Four Apostles. Lorenzo Lotto completes Virgin and Child with Saints. The editor Francesco Calvo publishes in Rome De partu Verginis and Piscatoria by lacopo Sannazaro.

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1527 Aretino predicts the fall and sack of Rome at the hands of the Imperial troops; when this takes places, his authority as a political seer is immensely enhanced. He begins composing the poem Marfisa and the play // marescalco (The Blacksmith), the latter dedicated to the Gonzagas of Mantua. In May, Aretino travels to Venice and settles there for the remainder of his life. He renews his friendship with lacopo Sansovino. Aretino meets Titian and they soon become good friends. The Doge of Venice offers him complete protection and patronage. He becomes a leading figure in Venice's artistic and intellectual life. His house on the Grand Canal becomes a center of a lively social life in which banquets are held for the city's elite in an atmosphere of geniality and pleasure. 1532-46 In amazingly quick succession, Aretino writes his most famous works, starting with a new version of his play "The Blacksmith," a second draft of the play "The Courtier," followed soon by the Ragionamenti (The Dialogues) part I (1536; part II in 1556), Passione di Gesu (Jesus' Passion); the plays La Talanta (The Tantalus), Lo ipocrito (The Hypocrite, 1542), // filosofo (The Philosopher), and the tragedy L'Orazio (1546); together with many polemical and religious works and, most important of all, the publication of his letters in six volumes.

Rome is sacked by the Imperial Army of Charles V, Clement VII takes refuge in Castel Sant' Angelo. Benvenuto Cellini assists in the defense of Rome. On 17 May, the Medici are expelled from Florence which becomes a republic under Niccolo Capponi. Pope Clement VII refuses Henry VIII a divorce from Catherine of Aragon, setting the stage for the break of the English church from Rome,

Baldassare Castiglione's // cortegiano appears. Machiavelli dies. Five years later (1532) The prince is published posthumously, and the definitive draft appears of L'Orlando furioso by Ariosto, who dies the following year,

Henry VIII is recognized as the Supreme Head of the Church of England and subsequently excommunicated by Pope Clement VII. Austria is invaded by Turkish forces. IV—Ivan the Terrible— begins his fifty-one-year reign in Russia. Ignatius de Loyola establishes the Society of Jesus in Paris. Clement VII dies and is succeeded by Cardinal Farnese. Sir Thomas More is tried and executed for treason. Ottoman Emperor Suleiman I and French king Francis I form an alliance against the Hapsburgs.

Erasmus publishes the first complete edition of Aristotle's works. Correggio completes Dande. Rabelais writes Pantagruel. Chaucer's works and Machiavelli's The prince are published posthumously. The definitive draft of Ariosto's Orlando Furioso appears. Giulio Romano begins to paint the Sola dei' giganti. Vittoria Colonna begins writing Rime sacre e morali. Michelangelo finishes his work on the Medici tombs and moves to Rome. Luther completes his translation of the Bible into German, Hans Holbein the Younger paints Henry VIII's portrait.

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1536-37 Aretino falls in love with Pierina Riccia, who comes to live with him. His other mistress, Caterina Sandella, gives birth to his first child, whom he names Adria in gratitude to Venice., the finest port on the Adriatic.

1538 In the spring, an attempt is made to bring Aretino to trial on charges of blasphemy and, even more serious, sodomy. By now, he has appeared in many roles— private and public monitor, benefactor of h u m a n i t y , severe critic of arrogance and cruelty—all embodied in the m a n y letters addressed to emperors, kings, dukes, popes, artists, old friends, and other writers. 1553 In May, Aretino travels to Rome with the intention of persuading the Pope to give him the cardinal's hat, but Julius III refused him that honor. He also suffered another defeat at the hands of the British Ambassador to Venice, who objects with his fists to accusations brought against him by Aretino. Yet outside of these two setbacks, Aretino is still a prominent and highly respected person in Venice and in fact all of Europe. 1556 On the evening of 21 October, Aretino dies in Venice apparently from an attack of apoplexy. He is buried with solemn pomp in the church of San Luca.

War breaks out between Francis I and Charles V, A third Franco-Spanish war occurs. French forces invade Italy and capture Turin. The English Parliament declares the authority of the Pope void. Suleiman I declares war against Venice.

Erasmus dies. Soon after publishing Christiana? Religionis Institutio at Basle, Calvin settles in Geneva. Sansovino works on the facade of the Doge's Palazzo loggietta. Sebastiano del Piombo begins painting Pieta.

In June, Francis I agrees to the Truce of Nice which is intended to suspend hostilities with Charles V for ten years. The Venetian Doge Andrea Gritti dies. An edict is issued by Francis I for the persecution of French Protestants,

Titian paints the Urbino Venus. Seven years later (1545), Aretino has his portrait painted by Titian, calling it "una si terribile meraviglia."

Following the deaths of Martin Luther (1546), Henry VIII (1547), Francis I (1547), and the election of Giovanni Maria del Monte as Pope Julius III (1550), the League of Heidelburg is founded by the Catholic and Protestant princes in Germany to prevent Philip of Spain from being elected Holy Roman Emperor. Mary I becomes Queen of England.

Veronese paints the ceiling for the Doge's palace in Venice. Lazarillo de Tormes, the picaresque novel attributed to Den Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, appears in Spain. Hans Sachs writes the sixth Meisterleid which completes the tragedy Tristrant und Isolde.

Charles V abdicates his throne assigning Spain to his son Philip II and the Holy Roman Empire to Ferdinand I. Ignatius de Loyola dies.

Giovanni della Casa dies in Rome. Veronese completes Triumph ofMordecai.

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