A kindly thing it is to have compassion of the afflicted and albeit it
well beseemeth every one, yet of those is it more particularly
required who have erst had need of comfort and have found it in any,
amongst whom, if ever any had need thereof or held it dear or took
pleasure therein aforetimes, certes, I am one of these. For that,
having from my first youth unto this present been beyond measure
inflamed with a very high and noble passion (higher and nobler,
perchance, than might appear, were I to relate it, to sort with my low
estate) albeit by persons of discretion who had intelligence thereof I
was commended therefor and accounted so much the more worth, natheless
a passing sore travail it was to me to bear it, not, certes, by reason
of the cruelty of the beloved lady, but because of the exceeding
ardour begotten in my breast of an ill-ordered appetite, for which,
for that it suffered me not to stand content at any reasonable bounds,
caused me ofttimes feel more chagrin than I had occasion for. In this
my affliction the pleasant discourse of a certain friend of mine and
his admirable consolations afforded me such refreshment that I firmly
believe of these it came that I died not. But, as it pleased Him who,
being Himself infinite, hath for immutable law appointed unto all
things mundane that they shall have an end, my love,—beyond every
other fervent and which nor stress of reasoning nor counsel, no, nor
yet manifest shame nor peril that might ensue thereof, had availed
either to break or to bend,—of its own motion, in process of time, on
such wise abated that of itself at this present it hath left me only
that pleasance which it is used to afford unto whoso adventureth
himself not too far in the navigation of its profounder oceans; by
reason whereof, all chagrin being done away, I feel it grown
delightsome, whereas it used to be grievous. Yet, albeit the pain hath
ceased, not, therefore, is the memory fled of the benefits whilom
received and the kindnesses bestowed on me by those to whom, of the
goodwill they bore me, my troubles were grievous; nor, as I deem, will
it ever pass away, save for death. And for that gratitude, to my
thinking, is, among the other virtues, especially commendable and its
contrary blameworthy, I have, that I may not appear ungrateful,
bethought myself, now that I can call myself free, to endeavour, in
that little which is possible to me, to afford some relief, in
requital of that which I received aforetime,—if not to those who
succoured me and who, belike, by reason of their good sense or of
their fortune, have no occasion therefor,—to those, at least, who
stand in need thereof. And albeit my support, or rather I should say
my comfort, may be and indeed is of little enough avail to the
afflicted, natheless meseemeth it should rather be proffered whereas
the need appeareth greater, as well because it will there do more
service as for that it will still be there the liefer had. And who
will deny that this [comfort], whatsoever [worth] it be, it behoveth
much more to give unto lovesick ladies than unto men? For that these
within their tender bosoms, fearful and shamefast, hold hid the fires
of love (which those who have proved know how much more puissance they
have than those which are manifest), and constrained by the wishes,
the pleasures, the commandments of fathers, mothers, brothers and
husbands, abide most time enmewed in the narrow compass of their
chambers and sitting in a manner idle, willing and willing not in one
breath, revolve in themselves various thoughts which it is not
possible should still be merry. By reason whereof if there arise in
their minds any melancholy, bred of ardent desire, needs must it with
grievous annoy abide therein, except it be done away by new discourse;
more by token that they are far less strong than men to endure. With
men in love it happeneth not on this wise, as we may manifestly see.
They, if any melancholy or heaviness of thought oppress them, have
many means of easing it or doing it away, for that to them, an they
have a mind thereto, there lacketh not commodity of going about
hearing and seeing many things, fowling, hunting, fishing, riding,
gaming and trafficking; each of which means hath, altogether or in
part, power to draw the mind unto itself and to divert it from
troublous thought, at least for some space of time, whereafter, one
way or another, either solacement superveneth or else the annoy
groweth less. Wherefore, to the end that the unright of Fortune may by
me in part be amended, which, where there is the less strength to
endure, as we see it in delicate ladies, hath there been the more
niggard of support, I purpose, for the succour and solace of ladies in
love (unto others the needle and the spindle and the reel suffice)
to recount an hundred stories or fables or parables or histories or
whatever you like to style them, in ten days' time related by an
honourable company of seven ladies and three young men made in the
days of the late deadly pestilence, together with sundry canzonets
sung by the aforesaid ladies for their diversion. In these stories
will be found love-chances, both gladsome and grievous, and other
accidents of fortune befallen as well in times present as in days of
old, whereof the ladies aforesaid, who shall read them, may at once
take solace from the delectable things therein shown forth and useful
counsel, inasmuch as they may learn thereby what is to be eschewed and
what is on like wise to be ensued,—the which methinketh cannot betide
without cease of chagrin. If it happen thus (as God grant it may) let
them render thanks therefor to Love, who, by loosing me from his
bonds, hath vouchsafed me the power of applying myself to the service
of their pleasures.