Guide The Decameron: The Classic Translation of John Payne

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Related Searches. Having established their name as the leading publisher View Product. Having established their name as the leading publisher of classic literature and Having established their name as the leading Stork Translation, by Johanna Having established their name as the leading publisher of Mary Anerley by R. Blackmore - Delphi. Blackmore - Delphi Having established their name as the leading publisher of classic literature And I, poor lass, that sowed myself whilere A pot with flowers therein, Slept in its shade, so great it was and fair; But folk, that envious bin, Stole it away even from my very door.

The Decameron Translation of John Payne by Giovanni Boccaccio - AbeBooks

Full heavy was my cheer, Ah, luckless maid, would I had died tofore! Who brought [B] it passing dear, Yet kept ill ward thereon one day of fear. For him I loved so sore, I planted it with marjoram about. I planted it with marjoram about, When May was blithe and new; Yea, thrice I watered it, week in, week out, And watched how well it grew: But now, for sure, away from me 'tis ta'en.

Ay, now, for sure, away from me 'tis ta'en; I may 't no longer hide. Had I but known alas, regret is vain! That which should me betide, Before my door on guard I would have lain To sleep, my flowers beside.

The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio by Giovanni Boccaccio

Yet might the Great God ease me at His will. Yea, God Most High might ease me, at His will, If but it liked Him well, Of him who wrought me such unright and ill; He into pangs of hell Cast me who stole my basil-pot, that still Was full of such sweet smell, Its savour did all dole from me away.

All dole its savour did from me away; It was so redolent, When, with the risen sun, at early day To water it I went, The folk would marvel all at it and say, "Whence comes the sweetest scent? Yea, I for love of it shall surely die, For love and grief and pain. If one would tell me where it is, I'd buy It willingly again. Fivescore gold crowns, that in my pouch have I, I'd proffer him full fain, And eke a kiss, if so it liked the swain. A Pardon is a sort of minor jubilee of the Roman Catholic Church, held in honour of some local saint, at which certain indulgences and remissions of sins hence the name are granted to the faithful attending the services of the occasion.

An obscure passage; perhaps "holding his breath" is meant; but in this case we should read " lo spirito " instead of " gli spiriti. This may also be rendered "by tempest," fortuna being a name for a squall or hurricane, which Boccaccio uses elsewhere in the same sense. This is a somewhat obscure passage, owing to the vagueness of the word affezioni syn. It does not appear that Martuccio was a craftsman and it is possible, therefore, that Boccaccio intended the word mestiere to be taken in the sense to me unknown of "condition" or "estate," in which case the passage would read, "a man of worth for i.

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It is apparently to this circumstance that Boccaccio alludes in the text. The Frederick a.

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I mention this to show the connection with teeth. George Macdonald:. Family wine vin da famiglia , i. John's Day, as that of the Barberi at Rome during the Carnival. Elijer Goff, "The Irish Question has for some centuries been enjoyed by the universe and other parts " produces a risible effect and gives the reader to understand that Scalza broaches the question only by way of a joke.

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The same may be said of the jesting inversion of the word philosophers phisopholers, Fisofoli in the next line. This story has been a prodigious stumbling-block to former translators, not one of whom appears to have had the slightest idea of Boccaccio's meaning.

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The exact meaning of this passage is not clear. The commentators make sundry random shots at it, but, as usual, only succeed in making confusion worse confounded. It may perhaps be rendered, "till his wind failed him.

One of the commentators, with characteristic carelessness, states that the places mentioned in the preachment of Fra Cipolla an amusing specimen of the patter-sermon of the mendicant friar of the middle ages, that ecclesiastical Cheap Jack of his day are all names of streets or places of Florence, a statement which, it is evident to the most cursory reader, is altogether inaccurate. Land of Tricks or Cozenage.

Falsehood, Lie-land. Pastinaca means "parsnip" and is a meaningless addition of Fra Cipolla's fashion. The Word [made] flesh. Get-thee-to-the-windows is only a patter tag. See p. Twoay, Treagio, Quattragio invented by the roguish priest to impose upon the simple goodwife. Good cheer. See ante, passim. Some commentators suppose that Boccaccio meant to write robbia , madder. Trevisan dance, O.


Fat-hog and Get-thee-to-supper, burlesque perversions of the names Ipocrasso Hippocrates and Avicenna. For former instances of this idiomatic expression, see ante, passim. Mellone is strictly a water-melon; but I have rendered it "pumpkin," to preserve the English idiom, "pumpkinhead" being our equivalent for the Italian "melon," used in the sense of dullard, noodle. Civillari, according to the commentators, was the name of an alley in Florence, where all the ordure and filth of the neighbourhood was deposited and stored in trenches for manure.

Broom-handle Manico della Scopa. Biography of John Payne. John Payne Poems December THE roofs are dreary with the drifted rime And in the air a stillness as of death Th'approach of some portentousness foresaith. The rose has had its day; from weald and wold Past is the blossom-pomp, the harvest-gold; October OCTOBER, May of the descending days, Mid-Spring of Autumn, on the shortening stair Of the year's eld abiding still and fair, November THE tale of wake is told; the stage is bare, The curtain falls upon the ended play; November's fogs arise, to hide away May THE wild bird carolled all the April night, Among the leafing limes, as who should say, 'Lovers, have heed; here cometh in your May, June THE empress of the year, the meadows' queen, Back from the East, with all her goodly train, Is come, to glorify the world again July THE meadows slumber in the golden shine; Full-mirrored in the river's glass serene, Stirless, the blue sky sleeps; knee-deep in green, January THIS is the bitter birth-month of the year.

The sun looms large against the leaden sky, Rayless and red, as 'twere a giant's eye, February HOW long, o Lord, how long the Winter's woes? False February.