CZM Book Club: A Story from the Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio

Summary

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It Could Happen Here: Book Club — A Story from Boccaccio’s Decameron

Episode Date: March 8, 2026
Host: (Unnamed but in the It Could Happen Here collective style)
Book Club Selection: Giovanni Boccaccio’s The Decameron, Day 3, Story 8

Episode Overview

This Book Club episode takes a witty, irreverent look at one of the stories from Giovanni Boccaccio’s The Decameron, a medieval collection known for its bawdy humor, anti-clerical tone, and exploration of the absurdities and joys of human behavior—even in the gloom of the Black Death. The host summarizes the story, reads excerpts, and reflects on the ongoing relevance and subversive fun of medieval storytelling.
Theme: Ruses in Courtship — Specifically, a tale involving jealousy, trickery, and a comically elaborate plot centered on a foolish husband, a scheming abbot, and a clever wife.

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Key Discussion Points & Insights

Introduction to The Decameron

• Background: Written in Italian between 1348–53, The Decameron is structured as 10 people sheltering from the plague who fill the days telling stories.
• The stories are known for themes of love, wit, practical jokes, erotic situations, and satirical lessons about life.
• Contrast with Dante: While Dante’s Inferno is about the afterlife and divine law, The Decameron is all about people muddling through daily life—the "Human Comedy."
• Anti-clerical Vibe: The host notes the prominent anti-church satire, pointing out the story was “banned by the Catholic Church on and off throughout the 1500s” and jokes, “Whomst amongst us wasn’t banned by the Catholic church throughout the 1500s?” (06:43).

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Story Summary: Ferrando and the Abbess’s Ruse

High-Level Plot Overview (07:30):

• Ferrando is a “shitty” and not-very-intelligent husband who is also extremely jealous.
• Ferrando’s wife, desperate for relief, confides in a local abbot for help.
• The abbot, “very pious in all things except women,” seizes the opportunity for seduction.
• With the wife’s cooperation, they fake Ferrando’s death using a sleeping potion, bury him, and then move his comatose body to a pitch-black mausoleum.
• A monk stationed there convinces Ferrando (upon waking) he’s actually in purgatory, and this ruse continues for six months.
• In Ferrando’s absence, the abbot and wife carry on an affair; she becomes pregnant.
• When the pregnancy becomes evident, Ferrando is “resurrected,” still believing the story, and returns home a reformed, if still gullible, husband.

Quote:
“I think it’s really funny. I think it’s a good story... It’s just about people who are trying to live their life and enjoy the good times while they can, which is apt for a plague story.” — Host (04:30)

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Detailed Storytelling & Key Moments

The Setup: Host’s Preface (04:45–09:45)

• The host gives a “period-accurate” high-level summary, warning of “spoilers.”
• Comments on the archaic prose and the intention to help listeners follow the twists (“there’s like, some like, thees and vows and doists and meesee mythos…” - 08:07).

The Wife’s Confession to the Abbot (16:30)

• The wife laments:

  “Sir, if God had given me a right husband, or had given me none, it would belike be easy to me... But I, having regard to what Forondo is, and to his witlessness, may style myself a widow. And yet I am married.” (16:58)

• The abbot responds, feigning piety but plotting seduction:

  “Daughter, I can well believe that it must be a sore annoy for a fair and dainty dame such as you are, to have a blockhead to husband, but a much greater meseemeth to have a jealous man.” (17:52)

• The abbot’s proposition is shameless:

  “You must give me your love, and vouchsafe me satisfaction of yourself, for whom I am all afire with love and languishment.” (18:40)

The Ruse: Ferrando Goes to “Purgatory” (21:43)

• The abbot slips Ferrando a sleeping powder, fakes his death, and buries him.

• Ferrando is moved to a dark prison and, when he awakes, a monk “gives him a sound drubbing” and tells him he’s in purgatory.

• Comedic exchange:

  Ferrando: “Where am I?”
  Monk: “Thou art in purgatory.”
  Ferrando: “Am I then dead?”
  Monk: “Ay, certes.” (25:14)

• Ferrando is regularly beaten, fed poor food, and told this is penance for his jealousy.

Absurd “Afterlife” Lessons (26:30–29:30)

• Ferrando is told, “because thus hath God the Lord ordained that it be done unto thee twice every day... thou wast jealous, having the best woman in the country to wife.” (26:52)
• Ferrando naively accepts all this, promising to reform if ever resurrected.

The Resurrection and Aftermath (33:26)

• After the affair results in a pregnancy, the abbot orchestrates Ferrando's faux "resurrection."
• Ferrando emerges from the “tomb,” credits the abbot’s prayers and his wife's devotion for his return, and resumes married life—entirely fooled.

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Notable Quotes & Moments:

• The host on the absurdity of the story:

  “The Decameron is, at its core, just about people who are trying to live their life and enjoy the good times while they can, which is apt for a plague story.” (05:14)

• Medieval shade at the Church:

  “And whomst amongst us wasn’t banned by the Catholic church throughout the 1500s?” (06:45)

• Hazel’s postscript (the story picker):

  “I feel like this collection is such a perfect example of the more things change, the more things stay the same. People are always going to people. And it’s really fun to read stuff from olden times that treats women with agency, priests like they’re humans with regular desires, and people who do bad shit like they’re capable of changing while also getting some good dunks on them in the meantime.” (38:33)

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Important Timestamps

• [04:30] — Intro to The Decameron and the “Human Comedy”
• [06:45] — Anti-clerical perspective and historical censorship
• [07:30–09:45] — High-level story summary and comedic tone set
• [16:30–19:00] — Wife’s confession and abbot’s seduction attempt
• [21:43] — The “Purgatory” ruse begins
• [25:14–26:30] — Ferrando’s confusion and the monk’s torments
• [33:26] — Ferrando is resurrected and returns to gullible bliss
• [38:33] — Hazel’s modern reflection on the story’s timelessness

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Memorable Tone & Language

• The host’s style is breezy, colloquial, and irreverently respectful to the source—balancing summary with original text.
• A running theme is the enduring nature of human folly: “People are always going to people.”
• There’s admiration for medieval bawdiness and the female character’s agency, and playful snark reserved for both jealous husbands and lecherous clergy.

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Episode Takeaways

• The Decameron resonates across centuries with its blend of unfiltered humanity, humor, and satire.
• Even stories conceived during deep crisis (the plague) were outlets for cheeky fun, subverting taboos and “dunking” on those in power.
• The podcast’s tone underscores how old stories about lies, sex, agency, and gullibility still hit home in the modern world.

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Final Words

The episode ends with a direct note to the audience about the value of sometimes “just reading some weird old clever shit from the middle ages” (39:05), underscoring that examining both the evils and absurdities of humanity is as essential now as in Boccaccio’s day.

“In the meantime, take care of each other. Fuck ICE. See you soon.” (39:55)

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Transcript

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book Club Book Club Book Club Book Club Book Club Club Club hello and welcome to Club Club Club Club Club. The only book club where you don't have to do the reading because I do it for you. And if you thought that introduction didn't make much sense, well, we're going to read medieval literature to you today, but I actually think the story we're gonna read makes sense. I think it's really funny. I think it's a good story. This week we have a funny story for you. This is a story from the Decameron, which is a verified ye olde collection of stories thought to have been written in Italian between 1348 and 1353 by a guy named Giovanni Boccaccio. The overarching thread between these stories if you haven't seen the there's a TV show that gets at a lot of the basic ideas of it that came out recently. That's pretty good. The overarching thread between the tales is that 10 young people are sheltering in quarantine from the Black Death in a piazza outside of Florence and take turns telling each other stories to pass the each day. One of them is appointed monarch and chooses a topic for the day, such as clever replies that save the speaker or tricks that women play on men. The Decameron tackles themes of love, wit, practical jokes, erotics, and life lessons, and it covers an awful lot of ground in the 900 pages it spans. And we're going to read you the entire thing from beginning to end. No, wait. No, we're not. We're going to read you one of the stories you have probably heard of Dante's Inferno, a long Italian epic poem about the speaker descending into hell and how it shaped both the Italian language and our ideas about hell. Inferno is actually the first part of three poems, the latter two being Purgatory and Paradise that together are called the Divine Comedy. This is, weirdly enough, in contrast to the Decameron, which is often called the Human Comedy. The Decameron is, at its core, just about people who are trying to live their life and enjoy the good times while they can, which is apt for a plague story. A lot of stories of this time, like Dante's Inferno or the Canterbury Tales, are very focused on piety and going to church and submitting to God. The Decameron instead is actually pretty anti clerical and it features a lot of priests behaving poorly and succumbing to their human natures. And it was even banned by the Catholic Church on and off throughout the 1500s. And whomst amongst us wasn't banned by the Catholic church throughout the 1500s? This story today is from the third day. It is the eighth story of that day. Today's theme is ruses in courtship. And the narrator of this story is a young lady named Loretta who we don't know very much else about. And normally we just read you the story, right? We like to trust our audiences to figure out what's going on in the stories we choose. But because this story is written in a more archaic sentence structure, I'm going to give you a pretty high level view of what happens to help you follow and if you're like, oh no spoilers. Well, there's two overviews in the first couple paragraphs of this story that is a way that people wrote really intentionally back when this was written. So it is period accurate for me to tell you what happens in this story before you hear it. And honestly, there's like some like vows and doists and meesee myth SOS and stuff in there, so you might want to. I needed to know what it was about before I read it. All right, you've got this guy named Ferrando. He's really shitty to his wife and he is not very intelligent. They go to church and they meet the abbot who the wife confides in asking for help. The abbot, who is very pious in all things except women, immediately sees an opportunity. With the wife's help, they fake the husband's death by giving him a sleeping draft and bury his body. The abbot then re digs up the husband's grave, who's still comatose, and locks him inside a pitch black mausoleum with a monk from the next town over who convinces the husband once he wakes up that he has died and gone to purgatory. Story and being not very intelligent and also kind of evil, the husband believes, the guy believes the monk. And this carries on for six months while the wife and the abbot, who is dressed in her husband's clothes, have a very sweet and tender affair together. She eventually gets pregnant and they decide it's time to get the husband back out of the tomb and help raise this baby. They stage a resurrection for the husband and again, being stupid and gullible, he continues to believe all the things that they claim happened to him, but he's learned his lesson from the quote unquote, dying and treats her right now and is really sweet to the kid and his wife gets to continue to sleep with the abbot on the side, because why not? Anyway, there's a fun story. The eighth story from the Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio. Day the third for Rondo, having swallowed a certain powder, is entombed for dead, and being taken forth of the sepulchre by the abbot who enjoyeth his wife, the while is put in prison and given to believe that he is in purgatory. After which, being raised up again, he reareth for his own a child begotten of the abbot on his wife. The end being come of Amelia's long story, which had not, withal for its length been unpleasing to any of the company, nay, but was held of all the ladies to have been briefly narrated, having regard to the number and diversity of the incidents therein recounted, the queen, having with a mere sign intimated her pleasure to Loretta, gave her occasion to begin. Dearest ladies, there occurreth to me to tell you a true story, which hath much more semblance of falsehood than that which it indeed is, and which hath been recalled to my mind by hearing one to have been bewept buried for another. I purpose then to tell you how a live man was entombed for dead, and how, after he and many other folk believed himself to have come forth of the sepulchre as one raised from the dead, by reason whereof he was adored as a saint, who should rather have been condemned as a criminal. There was then, and yet is in Tuscany an abbey situate like as we see many thereof, in a place not overmuch frequented of men, whereof a monk was made abbot, who was a very holy man in everything save in the matter of women. And in this he contrived to do so warily, that well nigh none, not to say knew, but even suspected him thereof. For that he was holden exceedingly, godly and just in everything. It chanced that a very wealthy farmer by the name Ferrando contracted a great intimacy with him, a heavy clod, pate fellow, and dull witted beyond measure, whose commerce pleased the abbot. But for that his simplicity whiles afforded him some diversion, and in the course of their acquaintance the latter perceived that Ferrando had a very handsome woman to wife, of whom he became so passionately enamoured that he thought of nothing else, day or night, but hearing that simple and shallow witted, as farondo was in everything else. He was shrewd enough in the matter of loving and guarding his wife, he well nigh despaired of her. However, like a very adroit man as he was, he wrought on such wise with Ferrando that he came, whiles with his wife, to take his pleasance in the abbey garden, and there he very demurely entertained them with discourse of the beitude of life eternal, and of the pious works of many men and women of times past. Insomuch that the lady was taken with a desire to confess herself to him, and asked, and had Ferrando's leave thereof. Accordingly, to the abbot's exceeding pleasure, she came to confess to him, and seating herself at his feet before she proceeded to say otherwhat began. Sir, if God had given me a right husband, or had given me none, it would belike be easy to me, with the help of your exhortations, to enter upon the road which you say leadeth folk unto life eternal. But I, having regard to what Forondo is, and to his witlessness, may style myself a widow. And yet I am married. Inasmuch as he living, I can have no other husband and dolt as he is, he is without any cause, so out of all measure jealous of me, that by reason thereof I cannot live with him otherwise than in tribulation and misery. Wherefore, ere I come to other confession, I humbly beseech you, as most I may, that it may please you to give me some counsel concerning this, for that an the occasion of my well doing begin not therefrom. Confession or other good work will profit me little. This speech gave the abbot great satisfaction in him. Seemed fortune had opened him the way to his chief desire. Wherefore, daughter, quoth he, I can well believe that it must be a sore annoy for a fair and dainty dame such as you are, to have a blockhead to husband, but a much greater meseemeth to have a jealous man. Wherefore you have both the one and the other. I can lightly credit that to which you avouch of your tribulation. But for this, speaking briefly, I see neither counsel nor remedy save one, the which is, that Ferrando be cured of this jealousy. The medicine that will cure him I know very well how to make, provided you have the heart to keep secret that which I shall tell you. Father mine answered the lady, have no fear of that, for I would liker suffer death and tell any that which you had bid me not repeat. But how may this be done? Quoth the abbot, and we would have him cured. It behoveth of necessity that he go to purgatory. But how, asked she, can he go thither alive? Needs must he die, replied the abbot, and so go thither. And whenas he shall have suffered such penance as shall suffice to purge him of his jealousy, we will pray God with certain orisons that he restore him to this life. And he will do it. Then, said the lady, am I to become a widow? Ay, answered the abbot, for a certain time wherein you must look well, you suffer not yourself to be married again, for that God would take an ill part. And when Esferando returned hither, it would behoove you to return to him, and he would then be more jealous than ever, quoth she, provided he but be cured of this calamity, so it may not behove me abide in prison all my life. I am content. Do as it pleaseth you, and I will do it, rejoined he. But what guerdon am I to have for such a service? Father, answered the lady, you shall have whatsoever pleaseth you so, but it be in my power. But what could the like of me that may befit such a man as yourself? Madam, replied the abbot, you can do no less for me than that which I undertake to do for you. For that, like as I am disposed to do that which is to be your weal and your solacement, even so can you do that which will be the saving and assailment of my life, quoth she, an it be so, I am ready. Then, said the abbot, you must give me your love, and vouchsafe me satisfaction of yourself, for whom I am all afire with love and languishment. The lady, hearing this was all aghast and answered, alack, father mine, what is this you ask? Methought you were a saint. But doth it beseem holy men to require women who come to them for counsel of such things? Fair my soul, rejoined the abbot. Marvel not for that sanctity nowise abetteth by this, seeing it hath its seat in the soul. And that which I ask of you is a sin of the body. But be that as it may, your ravishing beauty hath such might that love constraineth me to do thus. And I tell you that you may glory in your charms over all other women, considering that they please holy men, who are used to look upon the beauties of heaven. Moreover, abbot, though I be, I am a man like another, and am as you see not yet old. Nor should this that I ask be grievous of you to do. Nay, you should rather desire it for that. What, while Fernando sojourneth in purgatory, I will bury you company by night, and render you that solacement which he should give you. Nor shall any ever come to know of this. For that every one believeth of me that and more than that which you but now believed of me, reject not the grace that God sendeth you for. For there be women enough who covet that which you may have, and shall have, if, like a wise woman, you hearken to my counsel. Moreover, I have fair and precious jewels, which I purpose shall belong to none other than yourself. Do then for me, sweet my hope, that which I willingly do for you. The lady hung her head, knowing not how to take, deny him whilst her seemed it were ill done to grant him what he asked. But the abbot, seeing that she hearkened and hesitated to reply, and him, seeming he had already half converted her, followed up his first words with many others, and stayed not till he had persuaded her that she would do well to comply with him. Accordingly she said, blushing, that she was ready to do his every commandment, but might not avail thereto till such time as Forando should be gone to purgatory. Whereupon, quoth the abbot, exceeding well pleased, and we will make shift to send him thither incontinent, do you but contrive that he come hither to morrow or next day to sojourn with me. So saying, he privily put a very handsome ring into her hand and dismissed her. The lady rejoiced at the gift and looking to have others, rejoined her companions to whom she fell to relating marvelous things of the abbot's sanctity and presently returned home with them. And do you know what else will return home with you? Sweet, sweet deals on products and services that are going to come right on home with.

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And we're back. A few days after Ferrando repaired to the abbey, whom, whenas the abbot saw, he cast about to send him to purgatory. Accordingly he sought out a powder of marvellous virtue, which he had gotten in the parts of the Levant of a great prince, who avouched it to be that which was wont to be used by the old man of the mountain, whenas he would fain send anyone sleeping into his paradise, or bring him forth thereof, and that according, as more or less thereof was given without doing any hurt, it made him who took it sleep more or less time on such wise, that whilst its virtue lasted, none would say he had life in him. Of this he took as much as might suffice to make a man sleep three days, and, putting it into a beaker of wine that was not yet well cleared, gave it to Ferrando to drink in his cell, without the latter suspecting aught. After which he carried him into the cloister, and there, with some of his monks fell to making sport of him in his dunceries. Nor was it long before the powder working for Rondo was so taken with so sudden and overpowering a drowsiness, that he slumbered as yet he stood afoot, and presently fell down fast asleep. The abbot made a show of being concerned at this accident, and letting untruss him caused, fetched cold water and cast it in his face, and assay many other remedies of his fashion, as if he would recall the strayed life and senses from the oppression of some fumosity of the stomach, or what not like affection that had usurped them. The monks, seeing that for all this he came not to himself, and feeling his pulse, but finding no sign of life in him, all held it for certain that he was dead. Accordingly they sent to tell his wife and his kinsfolk, who all came thither forthright, and the lady having bewept him awhile with her kinswomen, the abbot caused Laehm, clad as he was, in a tomb, whilst the lady returned to her house, and giving out that she meant never to part from a little son, whom she had by her husband abode at home, and occupied herself with the governance of the child and the wealth which had been Ferrando's. Meanwhile the abbot arose stealthily in the night and with the aid of a Bolognese monk in whom he much trusted, and who was that day come thither from Bologna, took up Ferrando out of the tomb and carried him into a vault in which there was no light to be seen, and which had been made for prison of such of the monks as should make default in aught. There they pulled off his garments and clothed him in monk fashion, laid him on a truss of straw, and there left him against he should recover his senses. While the bull Milanese monk, having been instructed by the abbot of that which he had to do without any else knowing aught thereof, proceeded to await his coming to himself on the morrow, the abbot, accompanied by a sundry of his monks, betook himself by way of visitation to the house of the lady, whom he found clad in black and in great tribulation, and having comforted her a while, he softly required her of her promise. The lady, finding herself free and unhindered of Ferrando or any other, and seeing on his finger another fine ring, replied that she was ready, and appointed him to come to her that same night. Accordingly, night come. The abbot, disguised in Ferrando's clothes, and accompanied by the monk, his confidant, repaired thither to lay with her in the utmost delight and pleasance till the morning when he returned to the abbey. After this, he very often made the same journey on a like errand, and being whiles encountered coming or going of one or another of the villagers, it was believed he was Farondo, who went about those parts doing penance by reason whereof many strange stories were after, brooded about among the simple country folk. And this was more than once reported to Forando's wife, who well knew what it was. As for Forondo, when he recovered his senses and found himself, he knew not where The Bolognese monk came in to him with a horrible noise, and laying hold of him, gave him a sound drubbing with a rod he had in his hand, Foronda, weeping and crying out, did naught but ask, where am I? To which the monk answered, thou art in purgatory. How, cried Ferndo, Am I that dead? Ay, certes, said the other. Whereupon Ferndo fell to bemoaning himself and his wife and child, saying the oddest things in the world. Presently the monk brought him somewhat of meat and drink, which Forando seen. What, Cried he? Do the dead eat? Ay, they do, answered the monk. This is what I bring thee, is what the woman, thy wife, that was sent this morning to the church to let say mass for thy soul, and God the Lord willeth that it be made over to thee. Quoth God, grant her a good year. I still cherished her ere I died, insomuch that I held her all night in mine arms, and did naught but kiss her, and to other thing also I did, when I had a mind thereto. Then, being very sharp set, he fell to eating and drinking, and him seeing the wine was not over. Good Lord, confound her. Quoth he, why did she not give the priest wine of the cask against the wall after he had eaten? The monk laid hold of him anew and gave him another sound beating with the same rod, whereat Ferndo roared out lustily and said, alack, why dost thou this to me? Quoth the monk, because thus hath God the Lord ordained that it be done unto thee twice every day. And for what cause? Asked Forondo. Because, answered the monk, thou wast jealous, having the best woman in the country to wife. Alas, said Farondo, thou sayest sooth, ay, and the kindest creature she was sweeter than syrup. But I knew not that God the Lord held it for ill that a man should be jealous, else I had not been so. Quoth the monk, thou shouldst have bethought thyself of that whenas thou wast below, and have amended thee thereof. And should it betide that thou ever return thither, look thou so. Have it in mind that which I do unto thee at this present, that thou be never more jealous. What, said Farondo, do the dead ever return thither? I Answered the monk, whom God willeth marry, cried Farondo, and if I ever return thither, I will be the best husband in the world. I will never beat her, nor give her an ill word, except it be anent to the wine she sent hither this morning, and for that she sent no candles. So it behoved me to eat in the dark. Nay, said the monk, she sent candles enough, but they were all burnt for the masses. True, rejoined Ferndo, and assuredly an I return thither, I will let her do what she will. But tell me, who art thou that usest me thus? Quoth the monk, I am also dead. I was of Sardinia and for that aforetime I much commended a master of mine of being jealous. I have been doomed of God to this punishment that I must give thee to eat and drink, and beat thee thus till such time as God shall ordain twain other. What of thee and of me. Then, said Farondo, is there none here other than we twain? Ay, answered the monk, there be folk by the thousands, but thou canst neither see, nor hear them, nor they thee, quoth Farondo. And how far are we from our own countries? Akkad replied the other. We are distant thence, more miles than we can well cack at about about faith, rejoined the farmer. That is far enough. Me seemeth we must be out of the world, and it be so much as all that. 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And Rebecca in such and the like discourse was Ferrando entertained half a score months while eating and drinking and beating what while the abbot assiduously visited the fair lady without miscarriage, and gave himself the goodliest time in the world with her. At last, as ill luck would have it, the lady found herself with child, and straightway acquainted the abbot therewith. Wherefore it seemed well to them both, that Forondo should without delay be recalled from purgatory to life, and returned to her, so she might avouch herself with child by him. Accordingly the abbot the same night caused call to Forondo in prison, with a counterfeit voice saying, ferrando, take comfort, for it is God's pleasure that thou return to the world, where thou shalt have a son by thy wife, whom look thou named Benedict for that by the prayers of thy holy abbot, and of thy wife, and for the love of St. Benedict, he doth thee this favor. Forondo, hearing this, was exceedingly rejoiced, and said it liketh me well, Lord, grant me good year to sign your Lord Almighty. And to the Abbot and St. Benedict, and my cheesy sweet honey wife, the abbot let give him in the wine that he sent him, so much of the powder aforesaid as should cause him to sleep maybe four hours, and with the aid of his monk, having put his own clothes on him, restored him privily to the tomb wherein he had been buried. Next morning at break of day, Forondo came to himself, and espying light a thing which he had not seen for a good 10 months through some crevice of the tomb doubted not, but he was alive again. Accordingly he fell to bawling out, open to me. Open to me. And heaving so lustily at lid of the tomb with his head that he stirred it, for that was eath to move, and had begun to move it away, when the monks, having now made an end of saying matins, ran thither and knew Ferrando's voice, and saw him in act to come forth at the sepulchre. Whereupon all aghast for the strangeness of the case, they took to their heels and ran to the abbot, who made a show of rising from prayer, and said, my sons, have no fear. Take the cross and the holy water, and follow after me, so we may see that which God willeth to show forth to us of his might. And as he said, so he did. Now Ferrando was come forth of the sepulchre, all pale as well might he be, who had so long abidden without seeing the sky. As soon as he saw the abbot, he ran to cast himself at his feet, and said, father mine, according to that which hath been revealed to me, your prayers and those of St. Benedict and my wife have delivered me from the pains of purgatory and restored me to life. Wherefore I pray God to give you a good year and good cleanse, now and always. Quoth the abbot. Praised be God and his might. Go, my son, since he hath sent thee back hither comfort thy wife, who hath been still in tears since thou departest this life, and henceforth be a friend and servant of God. Sir, replied Ferrando, so hath it indeed been said to me only leave me do. For as soon as I find her, I shall buss her. Such good will do I bear her. The abbot, left alone with his monks, made a great show of wonderment at this miracle, and caused devoutly sing misere. Therefore, as for Ferrando, he returned to his village, where all who saw him fled, as men used to do from things frightful. But he called them back, and avouched himself to be raised up again. His wife, unlikewise, feigned to be a dread of him, but after the folk were somewhat reassured anent him, and saw that he was indeed alive, they questioned him of many things, and he, as it were he had returned wise, made answer to all, and gave them news of the souls of their kinsfolk, making up of his own motion the finest fables in the world of the affairs. Of purgatory, and recounting in full assembly, the revelation made him by the mouth of the Wrangel Bragel, ere he was raised up again. Then returning to his house, and entering again into possession of his goods, he got his wife, as he thought, with child. And by chance it befell that in due time, to the thinking of the fools who believe that women go just nine months with child, the lady gave birth to a boy who was called Benedict Ferrandi. Ferrando's return and his talk well nigh every one believing him to have risen from the dead, added infinitely to the renown of the abbot's sanctity. And he himself, as if cured of his jealousy by the many beatings he had received therefor. Thenceforward, according to the promise made by the abbot to the lady, was no more jealous, whereat she was well pleased, and lived honestly with him as of her wont save indeed that when, as she conveniently might, she willingly foregathered with the holy Abbot, who had so well and diligently served her in her greatest needs. The end. Hazel, who helps pick the stories, has this to say about it. I feel like this collection is such a perfect example of the more things change, the more things stay the same. People are always going to people. And it's really fun to read stuff from olden times that treats women with agency priests like they're humans with regular desires and people who do bad shit like they're capable of changing while also getting some good dunks on them in the meantime. Old timey people having fun is so much fun to me anyway. I thought that sometimes like the Decameron was written by people dealing with the fucking plague and they were like, man, you know what we need during the plague? We need to just like have some funny stories about people fucking. I don't know. I also believe we should like confront the evils of the world as head on as possible. But sometimes you just need to read some weird old clever shit from the middle ages. That's how I feel about things. So that's what we did. We read you a story and in the meantime, take care of each other. Fuck Ice. See you soon. It could Happen here as a production of Cool Zone Media. For more podcasts from Cool Zone Media,

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