Belphagor

  Belphagor

  By Niccolò Machiavelli

  © 2006 by http://www.HorrorMasters.com

  We read in the ancient archives of Florence the following account, as it was received

  from the lips of a very holy man, greatly respected by every one for the sanctity of his

  manners at the period in which he lived. Happening once to be deeply absorbed in his

  prayers, such was their efficacy, that he saw an infinite number of condemned souls,

  belonging to those miserable mortals who had died in their sins, undergoing the

  punishment due to their offences in the regions below. He remarked that the greater part

  of them lamented nothing so bitterly as their folly in having taken wives, attributing to

  them the whole of their misfortunes. Much surprised at this, Minos and Rhadamanthus,

  with the rest of the infernal judges, unwilling to credit all the abuse heaped upon the

  female sex, and wearied from day to day with its repetition, agreed to bring the matter

  before Pluto. It was then resolved that the conclave of infernal princes should form a

  committee of inquiry, and should adopt such measures as might be deemed most

  advisable by the court in order to discover the truth or falsehood of the calumnies which

  they heard. All being assembled in council, Pluto addressed them as follows: “Dearly

  beloved demons! though by celestial dispensation and the irreversible decree of fate this

  kingdom fell to my share, and I might strictly dispense with any kind of celestial or

  earthly responsibility, yet, as it is more prudent and respectful to consult the laws and to hear the opinion of others, I have resolved to be guided by your advice, particularly in a case that may chance to cast some imputation upon our government. For the souls of all

  men daily arriving in our kingdom still continue to lay the whole blame upon their wives,

  and as this appears to us impossible, we must be careful how we decide in such a

  business, lest we also should come in for a share of their abuse, on account of our too

  great severity; and yet judgment must be pronounced, lest we be taxed with negligence

  and with indifference to the interests of justice. Now, as the latter is the fault of a

  careless, and the former of an unjust judge, we, wishing to avoid the trouble and the

  blame that might attach to both, yet hardly seeing how to get clear of it, naturally enough apply to you for assistance, in order that you may look to it, and contrive in some way

  that, as we have hitherto reigned without the slightest imputation upon our character, we

  may continue to do so for the future.”

  The affair appearing to be of the utmost importance to all the princes present, they first resolved that it was necessary to ascertain the truth, though they differed as to the best means of accomplishing this object. Some were of opinion that they ought to choose one

  or more ‘from among themselves, who should be commissioned to pay a visit to the

  world, and in a human shape endeavour personally to ascertain how far such reports were

  grounded in truth. To many others it appeared that this might be done without so much

  trouble merely by compelling some of the wretched souls to confess the truth by the

  application of a variety of tortures. But the majority being in favour of a journey to the world, they abided by the former proposal. No one, however, being ambitious of

  undertaking such a task, it was resolved to leave the affair to chance. The lot fell upon the arch-devil Belphagor, who, previous to the Fail, had enjoyed the rank of archangel in a

  higher world. Though he received his commission with a very ill grace, he nevertheless

  felt himself constrained by Pluto’s imperial mandate, and prepared to execute whatever had been determined upon in council. At the same time he took an oath to observe the

  tenor of his instructions, as they had been drawn up with all due solemnity and ceremony

  for the purpose of his mission. These were to the following effect: —Imprimis, that the better to promote the object in view, he should be furnished with a hundred thousand gold

  ducats; secondly, that he should make use of the utmost expedition in getting into the

  world; thirdly, that after assuming the human form he should enter into the marriage

  state; and lastly, that he should live with his wife for the space of ten years. At the

  expiration of this period, he was to feign death and return home, in order to acquaint his employers, by the fruits of experience, what really were the respective conveniences and

  inconveniences of matrimony. The conditions further ran, that during the said ten years

  he should be subject to all kinds of miseries and disasters, like the rest of mankind, such as poverty, prisons, and diseases into which men are apt to fall, unless, indeed, he could contrive by his own skill and ingenuity to avoid them. Poor Belphagor having signed

  these conditions and received the money, forthwith came into the world, and having set

  up his equipage, with a numerous train of servants, he made a very splendid entrance into

  Florence. He selected this city in preference to all others, as being most favourable for

  obtaining an usurious interest of his money; and having assumed the name of Roderigo, a

  native of Castile, be took a house in the suburbs of Ognissanti. And because he was

  unable to explain the instructions under which he acted, he gave out that he was a

  merchant, who having had poor prospects in Spain, had gone to Syria, and succeeded in

  acquiring his fortune at Aleppo, whence he had lastly set out for Italy, with the intention of marrying and settling there, as one of the most polished and agreeable countries he

  knew.

  Roderigo was certainly a very handsome man, apparently about thirty years of age, and

  he lived in a style of life that showed he was in pretty easy circumstances, if not

  possessed of immense wealth. Being, moreover, extremely affable and liberal, he soon at-

  tracted the notice of many noble citizens blessed with large families of daughters and

  small incomes. The former of these were soon offered to him, from among whom

  Roderigo chose a very beautiful girl of the name of Onesta, a daughter of Amerigo

  Donati, who had also three sons, all grown up, and three more daughters, also nearly

  marriageable. Though of a noble family and enjoying a good reputation in Florence, his

  father-in-law was extremely poor, and maintained as poor an establishment. Roderigo,

  therefore, made very splendid nuptials, and omitted nothing that might tend to confer

  honour upon such a festival, being liable, under the law which he received on leaving his

  infernal abode, to feel all kinds of vain and earthly passions. He therefore soon began to enter into all the pomps and vanities of the world, and to aim at reputation and

  consideration among mankind, which put him to no little expense. But more than this, he

  had not long enjoyed the society of his beloved Onesta, before he became tenderly at-

  tached to her, and was unable to behold her suffer the slightest inquietude or vexation.

  Now, along with her other gifts of beauty and nobility, the lady had brought into the

  house of Roderigo such an insufferable portion of pride, that in this respect Lucifer

  himself could not equal her; for her husband, who had experienced the effects of both,

  was at no loss to decide which was the most intolerable of the two. Yet it bec
ame

  infinitely worse when she discovered the extent of Roderigo’s attachment to her, of

  which she availed herself to obtain an ascendancy over him and rule him with a rod of

  iron. Not content with this, when she found he would bear it, she continued to annoy him with all kinds of insults and taunts, in such a way as to give him the most indescribable

  pain and uneasiness. For what with the influence of her father, her brothers, her friends, and relatives, the duty of the matrimonial yoke, and the love he bore her, he suffered all for some time with the patience of a saint. It would be useless to recount the follies and extravagancies into which he ran in order to gratify her taste for dress, and every article of the newest fashion, in which our city, ever so variable in its nature, according to its usual habits, so much abounds. Yet, to live upon easy terms with her, he was obliged to

  do more than this; he had to assist his father-in-law in portioning off his other daughters; and she next asked him to furnish one of her brothers with goods to sail for the Levant,

  another with silks for the West, while a third was to be set up in a goldbeater’s

  establishment at Florence. In such objects the greatest part of his fortune was soon

  consumed. At length the Carnival season was at hand; the festival of St. John was to be

  celebrated, and the whole city, as usual, was in a ferment. Numbers of the noblest

  families were about to vie with each other in the splendour of their parties, and the Lady Onesta, being resolved not to be outshone by her acquaintance, insisted that Roderigo

  should exceed them all in the richness of their feasts. For the reasons above stated, he

  submitted to her will; nor, indeed, would he have scrupled at doing much more, however

  difficult it might have been, could he have flattered himself with a ~hope of preserving

  the peace and comfort of his household, and of awaiting quietly the consummation of his

  ruin. But this was not the case, inasmuch as the arrogant temper of his wife had grown to

  such a height of asperity by long indulgence, that he was at a loss in what way to act. His domestics, male and female, would no longer remain in the house, being unable to

  support for any length of time the intolerable life they led. The inconvenience which he

  suffered in consequence of having no one to whom he could intrust his affairs it is

  impossible to express. Even his own familiar devils, whom he had brought along with

  him, had already deserted him, choosing to return below rather than longer submit to the

  tyranny of his wife. Left, then, to himself, amidst this turbulent and unhappy life, and

  having dissipated all the ready money he possessed, he was compelled to live upon the

  hopes of the returns expected from his ventures in the East and the West. Being still in

  good credit, in order to support his rank he resorted to bills of exchange; nor was it long before, accounts running against him, he found himself in the same situation as many

  other unhappy speculators in that market. Just as his case became extremely delicate,

  there arrived sudden tidings both from East and West that one of his wife’s brothers had

  dissipated the whole of Roderigo’s profits in play, and that while the other was returning with a rich cargo uninsured, his ship had the misfortune to be wrecked, and he himself

  was lost. No sooner did this affair transpire than his creditors assembled, and supposing it must be all over with him, though their bills had not yet become due, they resolved to

  keep a strict watch over him in fear that he might abscond. Roderigo, on his part, thinking that there was no other remedy, and feeling how deeply he was bound by the Stygian law,

  determined at all hazards to make his escape. So taking horse one morning early, as he

  luckily lived near the Prato gate, in that direction he went off. His departure was soon

  known; the creditors were all in a bustle; the magistrates were applied to, and the officers of justice, along with a great part of the populace, were dispatched in pursuit. Roderigo

  had hardly proceeded a mile before he heard this hue and cry, and the pursuers were soon

  so close at his heels that the only resource he had left was to abandon the highroad and

  take to the open country, with the hope of concealing himself in the fields. But finding himself unable to make way over the hedges and ditches, he left his horse and took to his

  heels, traversing fields of vines and canes, until he reached Peretola, where he entered the house of Matteo del Bricca, a labourer of Giovanna del Bene. Finding him at home, for

  he was busily providing fodder for his cattle, our hero earnestly entreated him to save him from the hands of his adversaries close behind, who would infallibly starve him to death

  in a dungeon, engaging that if Matteo would give him refuge, he would make him one of

  the richest men alive, and afford him such proofs of it before he took his leave as would

  convince him of the truth of what he said; and if he failed to do this, he was quite content that Matteo himself should deliver him into the hands of his enemies.

  Now Matteo, although a rustic, was a man of courage, and concluding that he could not

  lose anything by the speculation, he gave him his hand and agreed to save him. He then

  thrust our hero under a heap of rubbish, completely enveloping him in weeds; so that

  when his pursuers arrived they found themselves quite at a loss, nor could they extract

  from Matteo the least information as to his appearance. In this dilemma there was nothing

  left for them but to proceed in the pursuit, which they continued for two days, and then

  returned, jaded and disappointed, to Florence. In the meanwhile, Matteo drew our hero

  from his hiding-place, and begged him to fulfil his engagement. To this his friend

  Roderigo replied: “I confess, brother, that I am under great obligations to you, and I mean to return them. To leave no doubt upon your mind, I will inform you who I am;” and he

  proceeded to acquaint him with all the particulars of the affair: how he had come into the world, and married, and run away. He next described to his preserver the way in which he

  might become rich, which was briefly as follows: As soon as Matteo should hear of some

  lady in the neighbourhood being said to be possessed, he was to conclude that it was

  Roderigo himself who had taken possession of her; and he gave him his word, at the

  same time, that he would never leave her until Matteo should come and conjure him to

  depart. In this way he might obtain what sum he pleased from the lady’s friends for the

  price of exorcizing her; and having mutually agreed upon this plan, Roderigo

  disappeared.

  Not many days elapsed before it was reported in Florence that the daughter of Messer

  Ambrogio Amedei, a lady married to Buonajuto Tebalducci, was possessed by the devil.

  Her relations did not fail to apply every means usual on such occasions to expel him,

  such as making her wear upon her head St. Zanobi’s cap, and the cloak of St. John of

  Gualberto; but these had only the effect of making Roderigo laugh. And to convince them

  that it was really a spirit that possessed her, and that it was no flight of the imagination, he made the young lady talk Latin, hold a philosophical dispute, and reveal the frailties of many of her acquaintance. He particularly accused a certain friar of having introduced a

  lady into his monastery in male attire, to the no small scandal of all who heard it, and the astonishment of the brotherhood. Messer Ambrogio found it impossible to silence him,

  and began to despair of his daughter’s cure. But the news reaching Matteo, he lost no

  time in waiting upon Ambrogio, assuring him of his daughter’s
recovery on condition of

  his paying him five hundred forms, with which to purchase a farm at Peretola. To this

  Messer Ambrogio consented; and Matteo immediately ordered a number of masses to be

  said, after which he proceeded with some unmeaning ceremonies calculated to give

  solemnity to his task. Then approaching the young lady, he whispered in her ear: © 2006 by http://www.HorrorMasters.com

  “Roderigo, it is Matteo that is come. So do as we agreed upon, and get out.” Roderigo replied: “It is all well; but you have not asked enough to make you a rich man. So when I

  depart I will take possession of the daughter of Charles, king of Naples, and I will not

  leave her till you come. You may then demand whatever you please for your reward; and

  mind that you never trouble me again.” And when he had said this, he went out of the

  lady, to the no small delight and amazement of the whole city of Florence.

  It was not long again before the accident that had happened to the daughter of the king

  of Naples began to be buzzed about the country, and all the monkish remedies having

  been found to fail, the king, hearing of Matteo, sent for him from Florence. On arriving at Naples, Matteo, after a few ceremonies, performed the cure. Before leaving the princess,

  however, Roderigo said: “You see, Matteo, I have kept my promise and made a rich man

  of you, and I owe you nothing now. So, henceforward you will take care to keep out of

  my way, lest as I have hitherto done you some good, just the contrary should happen to

  you in future.” Upon this Matteo thought it best to return to Florence, after receiving fifty thousand ducats from his majesty, in order to enjoy his riches in peace, and never once

  imagined that Roderigo would come in his way again. But in this he was deceived; for he

  soon heard that a daughter of Louis, king of France, was possessed by an evil spirit,

  which disturbed our friend. Matteo not a little, thinking of his majesty’s great authority and of what Roderigo had said. Hearing of Matteo’s great skill, and finding no other

  remedy, the king dispatched a messenger for him, whom Matteo contrived to send back

  with a variety of excuses. But this did not long avail him; the king applied to the