“I,” said the maid, “never saw a more graceful or courteous fellow than he is.” The lady sent several equerries and damsels to him, who paid him homage, and led him joyfully to the castle, and into the presence of the lady. When she saw him, she embraced him affectionately, and he most respectfully saluted her. All the nobles were invited to partake of the day’s pleasure in honour of Gianetto. They all admired how well he led a dance, and the ladies were quite charmed at the elegance of his person and manners, and thought he must be the son of some great lord.
But the same thing happened again. He lost his ship and all his property, and arrived at Venice without a ducat.
In the evening he went to his friend, who was thunderstruck at sight of him. “Alas! what does this mean?” said he. “My cursed ill-luck,” said Gianetto, “that I should ever have come into this country.”
“Well mayst thou curse thy ill stars,” said his friend, “for thou hast ruined poor Messer Ansaldo, who was one of the richest Christian merchants, and worst of all is the discredit.”
Gianetto remained concealed several days at his friend’s house, without knowing what to say or what to do, and was inclined to return to Florence, without letting Messer Ansaldo know it; but after a little reflection he bethought him he would go to him, and did so.
When Messer Ansaldo saw him, he arose, and ran to embrace him, and said, “welcome, my son.” Gianetto, weeping, embraced him; but when Ansaldo had heard the account, he said, “do not repine; as I have got thee again, I am not downhearted; there remains still enough for us to hold up, and be comfortable; the ocean will sometimes take from the one and give to another.” The news, however, soon spread itself in Venice, every one spoke of it, and grieved at the losses he had had, but Messer Ansaldo was compelled to sell many possessions he had, to pay the creditors who had furnished him with the goods. It happened that those companions of Gianetto returned from Alexandria very rich, and on their arrival at Venice, were informed of Gianetto’s situation, and how he had lost every thing, which they very much wondered at, saying, “this is the strangest thing that ever was heard of.” However, they went to Messer Ansaldo and Gianetto, and comforting him, said, “Signor, do not be disheartened, we intend to go next year, and trade for you, for we are partly the cause of these your losses, since it was we who induced Gianetto to go with us in the first instance; therefore be under no apprehension, and whilst we have property, command it as your own.” Messer Ansaldo thanked them, and said that he had still wherewith to live well. Gianetto, meanwhile, dwelling night and day on the dismal prospect and losses he had sustained, could not possibly conceal his chagrin, the which Ansaldo perceiving, he asked him what was the matter with him?—“I shall never be happy, if I do not recover that which I have lost.”
“My son,” replied Ansaldo, “I will not have thee go again, because it is better that we rest quietly with what little remains to us, than to run any more risks.”
“I am fully resolved,” said Gianetto, “to do my utmost, and should be quite ashamed, and think myself dishonourable if I did not, and remained in this situation.”
Ansaldo, perceiving it was his fixed determination, prepared to sell out whatever he had remaining, and freight the youth another fine ship. As he was short of ten thousand ducats, he went to a Jew and borrowed the sum on the following conditions (having no other security to give): that if he did not return the money within that midsummer-day twelvemonth, the Jew might cut off one pound of flesh from any part of his body; which the Jew accepting, Ansaldo was relieved: the Jew took care to have this agreement drawn up, and authenticated in all due form before witnesses, with all the precaution that men of business usually take in such masters; then counted over the ten thousand ducats in gold to Messer Ansaldo, who supplied the ship with every thing that was requisite, and though the two last were beautiful, yet this was much richer than either. The two friends loaded theirs with full intention that the produce should be for Gianetto.
When the moment for their departure came, Messer Ansaldo said to Gianetto, “my son, thou art going, and thou knowest under what penalty I labour; I do pray thee, that though any misfortune should again happen to thee, that thou comest to me, and let me behold thee ere I die; then shall I rest content.”