ssing rich woolworker, who, being a
simpleton, was called Capodoca (Goosehead), the wife of this man would
rise every night very early, precisely when Buffalmacco, having up to
then been working, would go to lie down; and sitting at her wheel, which
by misadventure she had planted opposite to the bed of Buffalmacco, she
would spend the whole night spinning her thread; wherefore Buonamico,
being able to get scarce a wink of sleep, began to think and think how
he could remedy this nuisance. Nor was it long before he noticed that
behind a wall of brickwork, that divided his house from Capodoca's, was
the hearth of his uncomfortable neighbour, and that through a hole it
was possible to see what she was doing over the fire. Having therefore
thought of a new trick, he bored a hole with a long gimlet through a
cane, and, watching for a moment when the wife of Capodoca was not at
the fire, he pushed it more than once through the aforesaid hole in the
wall and put as much salt as he wished into his neighbour's pot;
wherefore Capodoca, returning either for dinner or for supper, more
often than not could not eat or even taste either broth or meat, so
bitter was everything through the great quantity of salt. For once or
twice he had patience and only made a little noise about it; but after
he saw that words were not enough, he gave blows many a time for this to
the poor woman, who was in despair, it appearing to her that she was
more than careful in salting her cooking. She, one time among others
that her husband was beating her for this, began to try to excuse
herself, wherefore Capodoca, falling into even greater rage, set himself
to thrash her again in a manner that the woman screamed with all her
might, and the whole neighbourhood ran up at the noise; and among others
there came up Buffalmacco, who, having heard of what Capodoca was
accusing his wife and in what way she was excusing herself, said to
Capodoca: "I' faith, comrade, this calls for a little reason; thou dost
complain that the pot, morning and evening, is too much salted, and I
marvel that this good woman of thine can do anything well. I, for my
part, know not how, by day, she keeps on her feet, considering that the
whole night she sits up over that wheel of hers, and sleeps not, to my
belief, an hour. Make her give up this rising at midnight, and thou wilt
see that, having her fill of sleep, she will have her wits about her by
day and will not fall into such blunders.