The Decameron, vol. 2 | Page 6

grass, clad only in a vest of such fine stuff that it scarce in any
measure veiled the whiteness of her flesh, and below the waist nought
but an apron most white and fine of texture; and likewise at her feet
there slept two women and a man, her slaves. No sooner did Cimon
catch sight of her, than, as if he had never before seen form of woman,
he stopped short, and leaning on his cudgel, regarded her intently,
saying never a word, and lost in admiration. And in his rude soul,
which, despite a thousand lessons, had hitherto remained impervious to
every delight that belongs to urbane life, he felt the awakening of an
idea, that bade his gross and coarse mind acknowledge, that this girl
was the fairest creature that had ever been seen by mortal eye. And
thereupon he began to distinguish her several parts, praising her hair,
which shewed to him as gold, her brow, her nose and mouth, her throat
and arms, and above all her bosom, which was as yet but in bud, and as
he gazed, he changed of a sudden from a husbandman into a judge of
beauty, and desired of all things to see her eyes, which the weight of
her deep slumber kept close shut, and many a time he would fain have
awakened her, that he might see them. But so much fairer seemed she
to him than any other woman that he had seen, that he doubted she
must be a goddess; and as he was not so devoid of sense but that he
deemed things divine more worthy of reverence than things mundane,
he forbore, and waited until she should awake of her own accord; and
though he found the delay overlong, yet, enthralled by so unwonted a
delight, he knew not how to be going. However, after he had tarried a

long while, it so befell that Iphigenia--such was the girl's name--her
slaves still sleeping, awoke, and raised her head, and opened her eyes,
and seeing Cimon standing before her, leaning on his staff, was not a
little surprised, and said:--"Cimon, what seekest thou in this wood at
this hour?" For Cimon she knew well, as indeed did almost all the
country-side, by reason alike of his uncouth appearance as of the rank
and wealth of his father. To Iphigenia's question he answered never a
word; but as soon as her eyes were open, nought could he do but
intently regard them, for it seemed to him that a soft influence
emanated from them, which filled his soul with a delight that he had
never before known. Which the girl marking began to misdoubt that by
so fixed a scrutiny his boorish temper might be prompted to some act
that should cause her dishonour: wherefore she roused her women, and
got up, saying:--"Keep thy distance, Cimon, in God's name." Whereto
Cimon made answer:--"I will come with thee." And, albeit the girl
refused his escort, being still in fear of him, she could not get quit of
him; but he attended her home; after which he hied him straight to his
father's house, and announced that he was minded on no account to go
back to the farm: which intelligence was far from welcome to his father
and kinsmen; but nevertheless they suffered him to stay, and waited to
see what might be the reason of his change of mind. So Cimon, whose
heart, closed to all teaching, love's shaft, sped by the beauty of
Iphigenia, had penetrated, did now graduate in wisdom with such
celerity as to astonish his father and kinsmen, and all that knew him.
He began by requesting his father to let him go clad in the like apparel,
and with, in all respects, the like personal equipment as his brothers:
which his father very gladly did. Mixing thus with the gallants, and
becoming familiar with the manners proper to gentlemen, and
especially to lovers, he very soon, to the exceeding great wonder of all,
not only acquired the rudiments of letters, but waxed most eminent
among the philosophic wits. After which (for no other cause than the
love he bore to Iphigenia) he not only modulated his gruff and boorish
voice to a degree of smoothness suitable to urbane life, but made
himself accomplished in singing and music; in riding also and in all
matters belonging to war, as well by sea as by land, he waxed most
expert and hardy. And in sum (that I go not about to enumerate each of
his virtues in detail) he had not completed the fourth year from the day

of his first becoming enamoured before he was grown the most gallant,
and courteous, ay, and the most perfect in particular accomplishments,
of the young cavaliers