“It is not amiss to play jokes now and then even upon great lords. Indeed I have heard of many being played upon Duke Federico, upon King Alfonso of Aragon, upon Queen Isabella of Spain, and upon many other great princes; and they not only did not take offence, but rewarded the perpetrators liberally.”

Messer Bernardo replied:

“Not even for the hope of reward will I name those ladies.”

“As you please,” answered my lady Duchess.

Then messer Bernardo went on to say:

“It is not long since there arrived at the court (of I know whom) a Bergamasque rustic on business for a courtier gentleman; and this rustic was so well attired and elegantly appointed that, although he had been only used to tend cattle and knew no other trade, anyone who did not hear him speak would have taken him for a gallant cavalier. Now, being told that a Spanish follower of Cardinal Borgia[[306]] had arrived, and that he was called Castillo and was exceedingly clever, a musician, a dancer, a ballatore,[[307]] and the most accomplished Courtier in all Spain,—these two ladies were filled with extreme desire to speak with him, and straightway sent for him. And after receiving him with ceremony, they made him sit down and began to speak to him with the greatest distinction before all the company; and there were few of those present who did not know that the fellow was a Bergamasque cow-herd. So when these ladies were seen entertaining him with so much respect and honouring him so signally, the laughter was very hearty, the more so as the good man spoke his native Bergamasque dialect all the while.[[308]] But the gentlemen who played the trick had told these ladies in the beginning that he was among other things a great joker, and spoke all languages admirably and especially rustic Lombard. Thus they continually imagined that he was pretending, and they often turned to each other with an air of surprise, and said: ‘Listen to this prodigy, how well he counterfeits the language!’ In short, the conversation lasted so long that everyone’s sides ached from laughing; and he himself could not help giving so many tokens of his gentility that even these ladies were at last convinced, albeit with great difficulty, that he was what he was.

86.—“We meet practical jokes of this kind every day; but among the rest those are amusing which at first excite alarm and turn out well in the end; for even the victim laughs at himself when he sees that his fears were groundless.

“For instance, I was staying at Paglia[[309]] one night, and in the same inn where I was there happened to be three companions besides myself (two from Pistoia and the other from Prato), who sat down to play after supper, as men often do. They had not been playing long before one of the two Pistoians lost all he had and was left without a farthing, so that he began to lament and to curse and swear roundly; and he retired to sleep blaspheming thus. After gaming awhile, the other two resolved to play a trick upon the one who had gone to bed. So, making sure that he was really asleep, they put out all the lights and covered the fire; then they began to talk loud and to make as much noise as they could, pretending to quarrel over their play, and one of them said: ‘You’ve drawn the under card;’ and the other denied it, saying: ‘And you have wagered on four of a suit; let us deal again;’[[310]] and the like, with such an uproar that the sleeper awoke. And perceiving that his friends were playing and talking as if they saw the cards, he rubbed his eyes a little, and seeing no light in the room, he said: ‘What the devil do you mean by shouting all night?’ Then he lay back again as if to go to sleep.

“His two friends made no reply, but went on as before; whereat the man began to wonder (now that he was more awake) and seeing that there was really no fire or glimmer of any kind, and that still his friends were playing and quarrelling, he said: ‘And how can you see the cards without light?’ One of the two replied: ‘You must have lost your sight along with your money; don’t you see with these two candles we have here?’ The man who was abed lifted himself upon his arms, and said rather angrily: ‘Either I am drunk or blind, or you are lying.’ The two got up and groped their way to the bed, laughing and pretending to think that he was making sport of them; and still he answered: ‘I say I do not see you.’ Finally the two began to feign great surprise, and one said to the other: ‘Alas, methinks he speaks the truth. Hand me that candle, and let us see if perchance there is something wrong with his sight.’ Then the poor fellow took it for certain that he had become blind, and weeping bitterly he said: ‘Oh my brothers, I am blind;’ and he at once began to call on Our Lady of Loreto, and to implore her to pardon the blasphemies and maledictions that he had heaped upon her for the loss of his money. His two companions kept comforting him, and said: ‘It can’t be that you do not see us; ’tis some fancy you’ve got into your head.’ ‘Alas,’ replied the other, ‘this is no fancy, for I see no more than as if I had never had any eyes in my head.’ ‘Yet your sight is clear,’ replied the two, and one said to the other: ‘See how well he opens his eyes! And how bright they are! Who could believe that he doesn’t see?’ The unhappy man wept more loudly all the while, and begged mercy of God.

“At last they said to him: ‘Make a vow to go in penance to Our Lady of Loreto,[[311]] barefoot and naked, for this is the best remedy that can be found; and meanwhile we will go to Acquapendente[[312]] and those other places hard by to see some doctor, nor will we fail to do everything we can for you.’ Then the poor fellow quickly knelt by his bed, and with endless tears and bitter penitence for his blasphemy he made a solemn vow to go naked to Our Lady of Loreto, and to offer her a pair of silver eyes, and to eat no flesh on Wednesday or eggs on Friday, and to fast on bread and water every Saturday in honour of Our Lady, if she would grant him the mercy of restoring his sight. His two companions went into another room, struck a light, and laughing their very loudest, came back to the unhappy man, who was relieved of his great anguish, as you may imagine, but was so stunned by the terror that he had passed through, that he could neither laugh nor even speak; and his two companions did nothing but tease him, saying that he must fulfil all his vows, because he had obtained the mercy which he sought.