1 files changed, 5717 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/17703-0.txt b/17703-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0399ec6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/17703-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,5717 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. III. (of
+V.), by Margaret, Queen Of Navarre
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. III. (of V.)
+
+Author: Margaret, Queen Of Navarre
+
+Illustrator: Freudenberg and Dunker
+
+Translator: George Saintsbury: From The Authentic Text
+Of M. Le Roux De Lincy With An Essay Upon The Heptameron by the Translator
+
+Release Date: February 7, 2006 [EBook #17703]
+Last Updated: September 9, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALES OF THE HEPTAMERON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TALES OF
+
+THE HEPTAMERON
+
+OF
+
+Margaret, Queen of Navarre
+
+_Newly Translated into English from the Authentic Text_
+
+OF M. LE ROUX DE LINCY WITH
+
+AN ESSAY UPON THE HEPTAMERON
+
+BY
+
+GEORGE SAINTSBURY, M.A.
+
+Also the Original Seventy-three Full Page Engravings
+
+
+
+Designed by S. FREUDENBERG
+
+And One Hundred and Fifty Head and Tail Pieces
+
+By DUNKER
+
+_IN FIVE VOLUMES_
+
+VOLUME THE THIRD
+
+LONDON: PRINTED FOR THE SOCIETY OF ENGLISH BIBLIOPHILISTS
+
+MDCCCXCIV
+
+
+[Illustration: Frontispiece]
+
+[Margaret, Queen of Navarre, from a crayon drawing by Clouet, preserved
+at the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris]
+
+[Illustration: Titlepage]
+
+
+
+CONTENTS OF VOLUME III.
+
+
+SECOND DAY--Continued.
+
+
+Tale XIX. The honourable love of a gentleman, who, when his sweetheart
+is forbidden to speak with him, in despair becomes a monk of the
+Observance, while the lady, following in his footsteps, becomes a nun of
+St. Clara
+
+Tale XX. How the Lord of Riant is cured of his love fora beautiful widow
+through surprising her in the arms of a groom
+
+
+THIRD DAY.
+
+
+Prologue
+
+
+Tale XXI. The affecting history of Rolandine, who, debarred from
+marriage by her father’s greed, betrothes herself to a gentleman to
+whom, despite his faithlessness, she keeps her plighted word, and does
+not marry until after his death
+
+
+Tale XXII. How Sister Marie Heroet virtuously escapes the attempts of
+the Prior of St. Martin in-the-Fields
+
+
+Tale XXIII. The undeserved confidence which a gentleman of Perigord
+places in the monks of the Order of St. Francis, causes the death of
+himself, his wife and their little child
+
+
+Tale XXIV. Concerning the unavailing love borne to the Queen of Castile
+by a gentleman named Elisor, who in the end becomes a hermit
+
+
+Tale XXV. How a young Prince found means to conceal his intrigue with
+the wife of a lawyer of Paris
+
+
+Tale XXVI. How the counsels of a discreet lady happily withdrew the
+young Lord of Avannes from the perils of his foolish love for a lady of
+Pampeluna
+
+
+Tale XXVII. How the wife of a man who was valet to a Princess rid
+herself of the solicitations of one who was among the same Princess’s
+servants, and at the same time her husband’s guest
+
+
+Tale XXVIII. How a Gascon merchant, named Bernard du Ha, while
+sojourning at Paris, deceived a Secretary to the Queen of Navarre who
+had thought to obtain a pasty from him
+
+
+Tale XXIX. How the Priest of Carrelles, in Maine, when surprised with
+the wife of an old husbandman, gets out of the difficulty by pretending
+to return him a winnowing fan
+
+
+Tale XXX. How a gentleman marries his own daughter and sister unawares
+
+
+
+
+Appendix to Vol. III.
+
+
+
+
+PAGE ENGRAVINGS CONTAINED IN VOLUME III.
+
+
+
+Tale XIX. The Parting between Pauline and The Gentlemen.
+
+Tale XX. The Lord de Riant finding the Widow with her Groom.
+
+Tale XXI. Rolandine Conversing With Her Husband.
+
+Tale XXII. Sister Marie and the Prior.
+
+Tale XXIII. The Grey Friar deceiving the Gentleman Of Périgord.
+
+Tale XXIV. Elisor showing the Queen her own Image.
+
+Tale XXV. The Advocate’s Wife attending on the Prince.
+
+Tale XXVI. The Lord of Avannes paying His Court in Disguise.
+
+Tale XXVII. The Secretary imploring the Lady not To Tell Of His
+Wickedness.
+
+Tale XXVIII. The Secretary Opening the Pasty.
+
+Tale XXIX. The Husbandman surprised by the Fall of the Winnowing Fan.
+
+Tale XXX. The Young Gentleman embracing his Mother.
+
+
+[Illustration: 001a.jpg The Parting between Pauline and The Gentlemen]
+
+[The Parting between Pauline and The Gentlemen]
+
+[Illustration: 001.jpg Page Image]
+
+
+
+
+_TALE XIX_.
+
+_Pauline, being in love with a gentleman no less than he was with her,
+and finding that he, because forbidden ever again to speak with her, had
+entered the monastery of the Observance, gained admittance for her
+own part into the convent of St. Clara, where she took the veil; thus
+fulfilling the desire she had conceived to bring the gentleman’s love
+and her own to a like ending in respect of raiment, condition and manner
+of life. (1)_
+
+In the time of the Marquis of Mantua, (2) who had married the sister
+of the Duke of Ferrara, there lived in the household of the Duchess
+a damsel named Pauline, who was greatly loved by a gentleman in the
+Marquis’s service, and this to the astonishment of every one; for being
+poor, albeit handsome and greatly beloved by his master, he ought, in
+their estimation, to have wooed some wealthy dame, but he believed that
+all the world’s treasure centred in Pauline, and looked to his marriage
+with her to gain and possess it.
+
+     1 The incidents related in this tale appear to have taken
+     place at Mantua and Ferrara. M. de Montaiglon, however,
+     believes that they happened at Lyons, and that Margaret laid
+     the scene of her story in Italy, so that the personages she
+     refers to might not be identified. The subject of the tale
+     is similar to that of the poem called _L’Amant rendu
+     Cordelier à l’Observance et Amour_, which may perhaps have
+     supplied the Queen of Navarre with the plot of her
+     narrative.--M. and Ed.
+
+     2 This was John Francis II. of Gonzaga, who was born in
+     1466, and succeeded his father, Frederic I., in 1484. He
+     took an active part in the wars of the time, commanding the
+     Venetian troops when Charles VIII. invaded Italy, and
+     afterwards supporting Ludovico Sforza in the defence of
+     Milan. When Sforza abandoned the struggle against France,
+     the Marquis of Mantua joined the French king, for whom he
+     acted as viceroy of Naples. Ultimately, however, he espoused
+     the cause of the Emperor Maximilian, when the latter was at
+     war with Venice in 1509, and being surprised and defeated
+     while camping on the island of La Scala, he fled in his
+     shirt and hid himself in a field, where, by the treachery of
+     a peasant who had promised him secrecy, he was found and
+     taken prisoner. By the advice of Pope Julius II., the
+     Venetians set him at liberty after he had undergone a year’s
+     imprisonment. In 1490 John Francis married Isabella d’Esté,
+     daughter of Hercules I. Duke of Ferrara, by whom he had
+     several children. He died at Mantua in March 1519, his widow
+     surviving him until 1539. Among the many dignities acquired
+     by the Marquis in the course of his singularly chequered
+     life was that of gonfalonier of the Holy Church, conferred
+     upon him by Julius II.--L. and En.
+
+The Marchioness, who desired that Pauline should through her favour
+make a more wealthy marriage, discouraged her as much as she could from
+wedding the gentleman, and often hindered the two lovers from talking
+together, pointing out to them that, should the marriage take place,
+they would be the poorest and sorriest couple in all Italy. But such
+argument as this was by no means convincing to the gentleman, and though
+Pauline, on her side, dissembled her love as well as she could, she none
+the less thought about him as often as before.
+
+With the hope that time would bring them better fortune, this love of
+theirs continued for a long while, during which it chanced that a war
+broke out (3) and that the gentleman was taken prisoner along with a
+Frenchman, whose heart was bestowed in France even as was his own in
+Italy.
+
+     3  This would be the expedition which Louis XII. made into
+     Italy in 1503 in view of conquering the Kingdom of Naples,
+     and which was frustrated by the defeats that the French army
+     sustained at Seminara, Cerignoles, and the passage of the
+     Garigliano.--D.
+
+Finding themselves comrades in misfortune, they began to tell their
+secrets to one another, the Frenchman confessing that his heart was a
+fast prisoner, though he gave not the name of its prison-house. However,
+as they were both in the service of the Marquis of Mantua, this French
+gentleman knew right well that his companion loved Pauline, and in all
+friendship for him advised him to lay his fancy aside. This the Italian
+gentleman swore was not in his power, and he declared that if the
+Marquis of Mantua did not requite him for his captivity and his faithful
+service by giving him his sweetheart to wife, he would presently turn
+friar and serve no master but God. This, however, his companion could
+not believe, perceiving in him no token of devotion, unless it were that
+which he bore to Pauline.
+
+At the end of nine months the French gentleman obtained his freedom, and
+by his diligence compassed that of his comrade also, who thereupon used
+all his efforts with the Marquis and Marchioness to bring about his
+marriage with Pauline. But all was of no avail; they pointed out to him
+the poverty wherein they would both be forced to live, as well as the
+unwillingness of the relatives on either side; and they forbade him
+ever again to speak with the maiden, to the end that absence and lack of
+opportunity might quell his passion.
+
+Finding himself compelled to obey, the gentleman begged of the
+Marchioness that he might have leave to bid Pauline farewell, promising
+that he would afterwards speak to her no more, and upon his request
+being granted, as soon as they were together he spoke to her as
+follows:--
+
+“Heaven and earth are both against us, Pauline, and hinder us not only
+from marriage but even from having sight and speech of one another. And
+by laying on us this cruel command, our master and mistress may well
+boast of having with one word broken two hearts, whose bodies, perforce,
+must henceforth languish; and by this they show that they have never
+known love or pity, and although I know that they desire to marry each
+of us honourably and to worldly advantage,--ignorant as they are that
+contentment is the only true wealth,--yet have they so afflicted and
+angered me that never more can I do them loyal service. I feel sure that
+had I never spoken of marriage they would not have shown themselves so
+scrupulous as to forbid me from speaking to you; but I would have you
+know that, having loved you with a pure and honourable love, and wooed
+you for what I would fain defend against all others, I would rather die
+than change my purpose now to your dishonour. And since, if I continued
+to see you, I could not accomplish so harsh a penance as to restrain
+myself from speech, whilst, if being here I saw you not, my heart,
+unable to remain void, would fill with such despair as must end in woe,
+I have resolved, and that long since, to become a monk. I know, indeed,
+full well that men of all conditions may be saved, but would gladly have
+more leisure for contemplating the Divine goodness, which will, I trust,
+forgive me the errors of my youth, and so change my heart that it may
+love spiritual things as truly as hitherto it has loved temporal things.
+And if God grant me grace to win His grace, my sole care shall be to
+pray to Him without ceasing for you; and I entreat you, by the true and
+loyal love that has been betwixt us both, that you will remember me
+in your prayers, and beseech Our Lord to grant me as full a measure
+of steadfastness when I see you no more, as he has given me of joy
+in beholding you. Finally, I have all my life hoped to have of you in
+wedlock that which honour and conscience allow, and with this hope have
+been content; but now that I have lost it and can never have you
+to wife, I pray you at least, in bidding me farewell, treat me as a
+brother, and suffer me to kiss you.”
+
+When the hapless Pauline, who had always treated him somewhat
+rigorously, beheld the extremity of his grief and his uprightness,
+which, amidst all his despair, would suffer him to prefer but this
+moderate request, her sole answer was to throw her arms around his neck,
+weeping so bitterly that speech and strength alike failed her, and
+she swooned away in his embrace. Thereupon, overcome by pity, love
+and sorrow, he must needs swoon also, and one of Pauline’s companions,
+seeing them fall one on one side and one on the other, called aloud for
+aid, whereupon remedies were fetched and applied, and brought them to
+themselves.
+
+Then Pauline, who had desired to conceal her love, was ashamed at having
+shown such transports; yet were her pity for the unhappy gentleman a
+just excuse. He, unable to utter the “Farewell for ever!” hastened away
+with heavy heart and set teeth, and, on entering his apartment, fell
+like a lifeless corpse upon his bed. There he passed the night in such
+piteous lamentations that his servants thought he must have lost all his
+relations and friends, and whatsoever he possessed on earth.
+
+In the morning he commended himself to Our Lord, and having divided
+among his servants what little worldly goods he had, save a small sum
+of money which he took, he charged his people not to follow him, and
+departed all alone to the monastery of the Observance, (4) resolved to
+take the cloth there and never more to quit it his whole life long.
+
+     4  The monastery of the Observance here referred to would
+     appear to be that at Ferrara, founded by Duke Hercules I.,
+     father of the Marchioness of Mantua. The name of
+     “Observance” was given to those conventual establishments
+     where the rules of monastic life were scrupulously observed,
+     however rigorous they might be. The monastery of the
+     Observance at Ferrara belonged to the Franciscan order,
+     reformed by the Pope in 1363.--D. and L.
+
+The Warden, who had known him in former days, at first thought he was
+being laughed at or was dreaming, for there was none in all the land
+that less resembled a Grey Friar than did this gentleman, seeing that
+he was endowed with all the good and honourable qualities that one
+would desire a gentleman to possess. Albeit, after hearing his words and
+beholding the tears that flowed (from what cause he knew not) down his
+face, the Warden compassionately took him in, and very soon afterwards,
+finding him persevere in his desire, granted him the cloth: whereof
+tidings were brought to the Marquis and Marchioness, who thought it all
+so strange that they could scarcely believe it.
+
+Pauline, wishing to show herself untrammelled by any passion, strove as
+best she might to conceal her sorrow, in such wise that all said she had
+right soon forgotten the deep affection of her faithful lover. And so
+five or six months passed by without any sign on her part, but in the
+meanwhile some monk had shown her a song which her lover had made a
+short time after he had taken the cowl. The air was an Italian one and
+pretty well known; as for the words, I have put them into our own tongue
+as nearly as I can, and they are these:--
+
+
+     What word shall be
+     Hers unto me,
+     When I appear in convent guise
+     Before her eyes?
+
+     Ah! sweet maiden,
+     Lone, heart-laden,
+     Dumb because of days that were;
+     When the streaming
+     Tears are gleaming
+     ‘Mid the streaming of thy hair,
+     Ah! with hopes of earth denied thee,
+     Holiest thoughts will heavenward guide thee
+     To the hallowing cloister’s door.
+     What word shall be, &c.
+
+     What shall they say,
+     Who wronged us, they
+     Who have slain our heart’s desire,
+     Seeing true love
+     Doth flawless prove,
+     Thus tried as gold in fire?
+     When they see my heart is single,
+     Their remorseful tears shall mingle,
+     Each and other weeping sore.
+     What word shall be, &c.
+
+     And should they come
+     To will us home,
+     How vain were all endeavour!
+     “Nay, side by side,
+     “We here shall bide
+     “Till soul from soul shall sever.
+     “Though of love your hate bereaves us
+     “Yet the veil and cowl it leaves us,
+     “We shall wear till life be o’er.”
+      What word shall be, &c.
+
+     And should they move
+     Our flesh to love
+     Once more the mockers, singing
+     Of fruits and flowers
+     In golden hours
+     For mated hearts upspringing;
+     We shall say: “Our lives are given,
+     Flower and fruit, to God in Heaven,
+     Who shall hold them evermore.”
+      What word shall be, &c.
+
+     O victor Love!
+     Whose might doth move
+     My wearied footsteps hither,
+     Here grant me days
+     Of prayer and praise,
+     Grant faith that ne’er shall wither;
+     Love of each to either given,
+     Hallowed by the grace of Heaven,
+     God shall bless for evermore.
+     What word shall be, &c.
+
+     Avaunt Earth’s weal!
+     Its bands are steel
+     To souls that yearn for Heaven;
+     Avaunt Earth’s pride!
+     Deep Hell shall hide
+     Hearts that for fame have striven.
+     Far be lust of earthly pleasure,
+     Purity, our priceless treasure,
+     Christ shall grant us of His store.
+     What word shall be, &c.
+
+     Swift be thy feet,
+     My own, my sweet,
+     Thine own true lover follow;
+     Fear not the veil,
+     The cloister’s pall
+     Keeps far Earth’s spectres hollow.
+     Sinks the fire with fitful flashes,
+     Soars the Phoenix from his ashes,
+     Love yields Life for evermore.
+     What word shall be, &c.
+
+     Love, that no power
+     Of dreariest hour,
+     Could change, no scorn, no rage,
+     Now heavenly free
+     From Earth shall be,
+     In this, our hermitage.
+     Winged of love that upward, onward,
+     Ageless, boundless, bears us sunward,
+     To the heavens our souls shall soar.
+     What word shall be, &c.
+
+
+On reading these verses through in a chapel where she was alone, Pauline
+began to weep so bitterly that all the paper was wetted with her tears.
+Had it not been for her fear of showing a deeper affection than was
+seemly, she would certainly have withdrawn forthwith to some hermitage,
+and never have looked upon a living being again; but her native
+discretion moved her to dissemble for a little while longer. And
+although she was now resolved to leave the world entirely, she feigned
+the very opposite, and so altered her countenance, that in company she
+was altogether unlike her real self. For five or six months did she
+carry this secret purpose in her heart, making a greater show of mirth
+than had ever been her wont.
+
+But one day she went with her mistress to the Observance to hear high
+mass, and when the priest, the deacon and the sub-deacon came out of the
+vestry to go to the high altar, she saw her hapless lover, who had not
+yet fulfilled his year of novitiate, acting as acolyte, carrying the
+two vessels covered with a silken cloth, and walking first with his
+eyes upon the ground. When Pauline saw him in such raiment as did rather
+increase than diminish his comeliness, she was so exceedingly moved and
+disquieted, that to hide the real reason of the colour that came into
+her face, she began to cough. Thereupon her unhappy lover, who knew this
+sound better than that of the cloister bells, durst not turn his head;
+still on passing in front of her he could not prevent his eyes from
+going the road they had so often gone before; and whilst he thus
+piteously gazed on Pauline, he was seized in such wise by the fire which
+he had considered well-nigh quelled, that whilst striving to conceal it
+more than was in his power, he fell at full length before her. However,
+for fear lest the cause of his fall should be known, he was led to say
+that it was by reason of the pavement of the church being broken in that
+place.
+
+When Pauline perceived that the change in his dress had not wrought any
+change in his heart, and that so long a time had gone by since he had
+become a monk, that every one believed her to have forgotten him, she
+resolved to fulfil the desire she had conceived to bring their love to
+a like ending in respect of raiment, condition and mode of life, even
+as these had been akin at the time when they abode together in the
+same house, under the same master and mistress. More than four months
+previously she had carried out all needful measures for taking the veil,
+and now, one morning she asked leave of the Marchioness to go and hear
+mass at the convent of Saint Clara, (5) which her mistress granted her,
+not knowing the reason of her request. But in passing by the monastery
+of the Grey Friars, she begged the Warden to summon her lover, saying
+that he was her kinsman, and when they met in a chapel by themselves,
+she said to him:--
+
+     5 There does not appear to have been a church of St. Clara
+     at Mantua, but there was one attached to a convent of that
+     name at Ferrara.--M. and D.
+
+“Had my honour suffered me to seek the cloister as soon as you, I should
+not have waited until now; but having at last by my patience baffled
+the slander of those who are more ready to think evil than good, I am
+resolved to take the same condition, raiment and life as you have taken.
+Nor do I inquire of what manner they are; if you fare well, I shall
+partake of your welfare, and if you fare ill, I would not be exempt. By
+whatsoever path you are journeying to Paradise I too would follow; for I
+feel sure that He who alone is true and perfect, and worthy to be called
+Love, has drawn us to His service by means of a virtuous and reasonable
+affection, which He will by His Holy Spirit turn wholly to Himself. Let
+us both, I pray you, put from us the perishable body of the old Adam,
+and receive and put on the body of our true Spouse, who is the Lord
+Jesus Christ.”
+
+The monk-lover was so rejoiced to hear of this holy purpose, that he
+wept for gladness and did all that he could to strengthen her in her
+resolve, telling her that since the pleasure of hearing her words was
+the only one that he might now seek, he deemed himself happy to dwell in
+a place where he should always be able to hear them. He further declared
+that her condition would be such that they would both be the better for
+it; for they would live with one love, with one heart and with one mind,
+guided by the goodness of God, whom he prayed to keep them in His hand,
+wherein none can perish. So saying, and weeping for love and gladness,
+he kissed her hands; but she lowered her face upon them, and then,
+in all Christian love, they gave one another the kiss of hallowed
+affection.
+
+And so, in this joyful mood Pauline left him, and came to the convent of
+Saint Clara, where she was received and took the veil, whereof she sent
+tidings to her mistress, the Marchioness, who was so amazed that she
+could not believe it, but came on the morrow to the convent to see
+Pauline and endeavour to turn her from her purpose. But Pauline replied
+that she, her mistress, had had the power to deprive her of a husband in
+the flesh, the man whom of all men she had loved the best, and with
+that she must rest content, and not seek to sever her from One who was
+immortal and invisible, for this Was neither in her power nor in that of
+any creature upon earth.
+
+The Marchioness, finding her thus steadfast in her resolve, kissed her
+and left her, with great sorrow.
+
+And thenceforward Pauline and her lover lived such holy and devout
+lives, observing all the rules of their order, that we cannot doubt that
+He whose law is love told them when their lives were ended, as He had
+told Mary Magdalene: “Your sins are forgiven, for ye have loved
+much;” and doubtless He removed them in peace to that place where the
+recompense surpasses all the merits of man.
+
+“You cannot deny, ladies, that in this case the man’s love was the
+greater of the two; nevertheless, it was so well requited that I would
+gladly have all lovers equally rewarded.”
+
+“Then,” said Hircan, “there would be more manifest fools among men and
+women than ever there were.”
+
+“Do you call it folly,” said Oisille, “to love virtuously in youth and
+then to turn this love wholly to God?”
+
+“If melancholy and despair be praiseworthy,” answered Hircan, laughing,
+“I will acknowledge that Pauline and her lover are well worthy of
+praise.”
+
+“True it is,” said Geburon, “that God has many ways of drawing us to
+Himself, and though they seem evil in the beginning, yet in the end they
+are good.”
+
+“Moreover,” said Parlamente, “I believe that no man can ever love God
+perfectly that has not perfectly loved one of His creatures in this
+world.”
+
+“What do you mean by loving perfectly?” asked Saffredent. “Do you
+consider that those frigid beings who worship their mistresses in
+silence and from afar are perfect lovers?”
+
+“I call perfect lovers,” replied Parlamente, “those who seek perfection
+of some kind in the objects of their love, whether beauty, or goodness,
+or grace, ever tending to virtue, and who have such noble and upright
+hearts that they would rather die than do base things, contrary and
+repugnant to honour and conscience. For the soul, which was created for
+nothing but to return to its sovereign good, is, whilst enclosed in the
+body, ever desirous of attaining to it. But since the senses, through
+which the soul receives knowledge, are become dim and carnal through the
+sin of our first parent, they can show us only those visible things that
+approach towards perfection; and these the soul pursues, thinking to
+find in outward beauty, in a visible grace and in the moral virtues, the
+supreme, absolute beauty, grace and virtue. But when it has sought and
+tried these external things and has failed to find among them that which
+it really loves, the soul passes on to others; wherein it is like a
+child, which, when very young, will be fond of dolls and other trifles,
+the prettiest its eyes can see, and will heap pebbles together in the
+idea that these form wealth; but as the child grows older he becomes
+fond of living dolls, and gathers together the riches that are needful
+for earthly life. And when he learns by greater experience that in all
+these earthly things there is neither perfection nor happiness, he
+is fain to seek Him who is the Creator and Author of happiness and
+perfection. Albeit, if God should not give him the eye of Faith, he will
+be in danger of passing from ignorance to infidel philosophy, since it
+is Faith alone that can teach and instil that which is right; for this,
+carnal and fleshly man can never comprehend.” (6)
+
+     6 The whole of this mystical dissertation appears to have
+     been inspired by some remarks in Castiglione’s _Libro del
+     Cortegiano_--which Margaret was no doubt well acquainted
+     with, as it was translated into French in 1537 by Jacques
+     Colin, her brother’s secretary. This work, which indeed
+     seems to have suggested several passages in the
+     _Heptameron_, was at that time as widely read in France as
+     in Italy and Spain.--B. J. and D.
+
+“Do you not see,” said Longarine, “that uncultivated ground which bears
+plants and trees in abundance, however useless they may be, is valued by
+men, because it is hoped that it will produce good fruit if this be sown
+in it? In like manner, if the heart of man has no feeling of love for
+visible things, it will never arrive at the love of God by the sowing of
+His Word, for the soul of such a heart is barren, cold and worthless.”
+
+“That,” said Saffredent, “is the reason why most of the doctors are
+not spiritual. They never love anything but good wine and dirty,
+ill-favoured serving-women, without making trial of the love of
+honourable ladies.”
+
+“If I could speak Latin well,” said Simontault, “I would quote you St.
+John’s words: ‘He that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can
+he love God whom he hath not seen?’ (7) From visible things we are led
+on to love those that are invisible.”
+
+“If,” said Ennasuite, “there be a man as perfect as you say, _quis est
+ille et laudabimus eum?_” (8)
+
+     7 I St. John, iv. 20.
+
+     8 We have been unable to find this anywhere in the
+     Scriptures.--Ed.
+
+“There are men,” said Dagoucin, “whose love is so strong and true that
+they would rather die than harbour a wish contrary to the honour and
+conscience of their mistress, and who at the same time are unwilling
+that she or others should know what is in their hearts.”
+
+“Such men,” said Saffredent, “must be of the nature of the chameleon,
+which lives on air. (9) There is not a man in the world but would fain
+declare his love and know that it is returned; and further, I believe
+that love’s fever is never so great, but it quickly passes off when one
+knows the contrary. For myself, I have seen manifest miracles of this
+kind.”
+
+     9 A popular fallacy. The chameleon undoubtedly feeds upon
+     small insects.--D.
+
+“I pray you then,” said Ennasuite, “take my place and tell us about some
+one that was recalled from death to life by having discovered in his
+mistress the very opposite of his desire.”
+
+“I am,” said Saffredent, “so much afraid of displeasing the ladies,
+whose faithful servant I have always been and shall always be, that
+without an express command from themselves I should never have dared to
+speak of their imperfections. However, in obedience to them, I will hide
+nothing of the truth.”
+
+[Illustration: 020.jpg Tailpiece]
+
+[Illustration: 021a.jpg The Lord de Riant finding the Widow with her Groom]
+
+[The Lord de Riant finding the Widow with her Groom]
+
+[Illustration: 021.jpg Page Image]
+
+
+
+
+_TALE XX_.
+
+_The Lord of Riant, being greatly in love with a widow lady and finding
+her the contrary of what he had desired and of what she had often
+declared herself to be, was so affected thereby that in a moment
+resentment had power to extinguish the flame which neither length of
+time nor lack of opportunity had been able to quench._ (1)
+
+     1 The unpleasant discovery related in this tale is
+     attributed by Margaret to a gentleman of Francis I.’s
+     household, but a similar incident figures in the
+     introduction to the _Arabian Nights_. Ariosto also tells
+     much the same tale in canto xxviii. of his _Rolando
+     Furioso_, and another version of it will be found in No. 24
+     of Morlini’s _Novella_, first issued at Naples in 1520.
+     Subsequent to the _Heptameron_ it supplied No. 29 of the
+     _Comptes du Monde Adventureux_, figured in a rare imitation
+     of the _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_ printed at Rouen early in
+     the seventeenth century, and was introduced by La Fontaine
+     into his well-known tale _Joconde_. On the other hand, there
+     is certainly a locality called Rians in Provence, just
+     beyond the limits of Dauphiné, and moreover among Francis
+     I.’s “equerries of the stable” there was a Monsieur dc Rian
+     who received a salary of 200 livres a year from 1522 to
+     1529.--See the roll of the officers of the King’s Household
+     in the French National Archives, _Sect. Histor_., K. 98.
+     Some extracts from Brantôme bearing on the story will be
+     found in the Appendix to this vol. (A).--L. and En.
+
+In the land of Dauphiné there lived a gentleman named the Lord of Riant;
+he belonged to the household of King Francis the First, and was as
+handsome and worshipful a gentleman as it was possible to see. He
+had long been the lover of a widow lady, whom he loved and revered so
+exceedingly that, for fear of losing her favour, he durst not solicit
+of her that which he most desired. Now, since he knew himself to be
+a handsome man and one worthy to be loved, he fully believed what she
+often swore to him--namely, that she loved him more than any living man,
+and that if she were led to do aught for any gentleman, it would be for
+him alone, who was the most perfect she had ever known. She at the same
+time begged him to rest satisfied with this virtuous love and to seek
+nothing further, and assured him that if she found him unreasonably
+aiming at more, he would lose her altogether. The poor gentleman was not
+only satisfied, but he deemed himself very fortunate in having gained
+the heart of a lady who appeared to him so full of virtue.
+
+It would take too long to tell you his love-speeches, his lengthened
+visits to her, and the journeys he took in order to see her; it is
+enough to say that this poor martyr, consumed by so pleasing a fire that
+the more one burns the more one wishes to burn, continually sought for
+the means of increasing his martyrdom.
+
+One day the fancy took him to go post-haste to see the lady whom he
+loved better than himself, and whom he prized beyond every other woman
+in the world. On reaching her house, he inquired where she was, and was
+told that she had just come from vespers, and was gone into the warren
+to finish her devotions there. He dismounted from his horse and went
+straight to the warren where she was to be found, and here he met with
+some of her women, who told him that she had gone to walk alone in a
+large avenue.
+
+He was more than ever beginning to hope that some good fortune awaited
+him, and continued searching for her as carefully and as quietly as he
+could, desiring above all things to find her alone. He came in this way
+to a summer-house formed of bended boughs, the fairest and pleasantest
+place imaginable, (2) and impatient to see the object of his love, he
+went in; and there beheld the lady lying on the grass in the arms of a
+groom in her service, who was as ill-favoured, foul and disreputable as
+the Lord of Riant was handsome, virtuous and gentle.
+
+     2 For a description of a summer-house of the kind referred
+     to, see Cap’s edition of Palissy’s _Dessein du Jardin
+     Délectable_, p. 69. Palissy there describes some summer-
+     houses formed of young elmtrees, with seats, columns,
+     friezes, and a roofing so cunningly contrived of bent boughs
+     that the rain could not penetrate into the interior. It is
+     to some such construction that Queen Margaret refers.--M.
+
+I will not try to depict to you his resentment, but it was so great that
+in a moment it had power to extinguish the flame which neither length of
+time nor lack of opportunity had been able to impair.
+
+“Madam,” he said to her, being now as full of indignation as once he
+had been of love, “much good may this do you! (3) The revelation of your
+wickedness has to-day cured me, and freed me from the continual anguish
+that was caused by the virtue I believed to be in you.” (4)
+
+     3 The French words here are “prou face,” which in Margaret’s
+     time were very generally used in lieu of “Amen” or “So be
+     it.”--M.
+
+     4 In _Joconde_ La Fontaine gives the end of the adventure as
+     follows:--
+
+     “Sans rencontrer personne et sans etre entendu
+     Il monte dans sa chambre et voit près de la dame
+     Un lourdaud de valet sur son sein étendu.
+     Tous deux dormaient. Dans cet abord Joconde
+     Voulut les envoyer dormir en l’autre monde,
+     Mais cependant il n’en fit rien
+     Et mon avis est qu’il fit bien.”
+
+     Both in La Fontaine’s _Conte_ and in Ariosto’s _Rolando_ the
+     lady is the Queen, and the favoured lover the King’s dwarf.
+     --Ed.
+
+And with this farewell he went back again more quickly than he had come.
+
+The unhappy woman made him no other reply than to put her hand to her
+face; for being unable to hide her shame, she covered her eyes that she
+might not see him who in spite of her deceit now perceived it only too
+clearly.
+
+“And so, ladies, if you are not minded to love perfectly, do not, I
+pray you, seek to deceive and annoy an honest man for vanity’s sake; for
+hypocrites are rewarded as they deserve, and God favours those who love
+with frankness.”
+
+“Truly,” said Oisille, “you have kept us a proper tale for the end of
+the day. But that we have all sworn to speak the truth, I could not
+believe that a woman of that lady’s condition could be so wicked both
+in soul and in body, and leave so gallant a gentleman for so vile a
+muleteer.”
+
+“Ah, madam,” said Hircan, “if you knew what a difference there is
+between a gentleman who has worn armour and been at the wars all his
+life, and a well-fed knave that has never stirred from home, you would
+excuse the poor widow.”
+
+“I do not believe,” said Oisille, “whatever you may say, that you could
+admit any possible excuse for her.”
+
+“I have heard,” said Simontault, “that there are women who like to
+have apostles to preach of their virtue and chastity, and treat them as
+kindly and familiarly as possible, saying that but for the restraints of
+honour and conscience they would grant them their desire. And so these
+poor fools, when speaking in company of their mistresses, swear that
+they would thrust their fingers into the fire without fear of burning in
+proof that these ladies are virtuous women, since they have themselves
+thoroughly tested their love. Thus are praised by honourable men, those
+who show their true nature to such as are like themselves; and they
+choose such as would not have courage to speak, or, if they did, would
+not be believed by reason of their low and degraded position.”
+
+“That,” said Longarine, “is an opinion which I have before now heard
+expressed by jealous and suspicious men, but it may indeed be called
+painting a chimera. And even although it be true of one wretched woman,
+the same suspicion cannot attach to all.”
+
+“Well,” said Parlamente, “the longer we talk in this way, the longer
+will these good gentlemen play the critics over Simontault’s tale, and
+all at our own expense. So in my opinion we had better go to vespers,
+and not cause so much delay as we did yesterday.”
+
+The company agreed to this proposal, and as they were going Oisille
+said:--
+
+“If any one gives God thanks for having told the truth to-day,
+Saffredent ought to implore His forgiveness for having raked up so vile
+a story against the ladies.”
+
+“By my word,” replied Saffredent, “what I told you was true, albeit I
+only had it upon hearsay. But were I to tell you all that I have myself
+seen of women, you would have need to make even more signs of the cross
+than the priests do in consecrating a church.”
+
+“Repentance is a long way off,” said Geburon, “when confession only
+increases the sin.”
+
+“Since you have so bad an opinion of women,” said Parlamente, “they
+ought to deprive you of their honourable society and friendship.”
+
+“There are some women,” he returned, “who have acted towards me so much
+in accordance with your advice, in keeping me far away from things that
+are honourable and just, that could I do and say worse to them, I should
+not neglect doing so, in order that I might stir them up to revenge me
+on her who does me so much wrong.”
+
+Whilst he spoke these words, Parlamente put on her mask (5) and went
+with the others into the church, where they found that although the bell
+had rung for vespers, there was not a single monk, present to say them.
+
+     5 Little masks hiding only the upper part of the face, and
+     called _tourets-de-nez_, were then frequently worn by ladies
+     of rank. Some verses by Christine de Pisan show them to have
+     been in vogue already in the fourteenth century. In the MS.
+     copy of Margaret’s poem of _La Coche_ presented to the
+     Duchess of Etampes, the ladies in the different miniatures
+     are frequently shown wearing masks of the kind referred to.
+     Some curious particulars concerning these _tourets_ will be
+     found in M. Léon do Laborde’s _Le Palais Mazarin et les
+     grandes habitations de ville et de campagne au XVIIe
+     Siècle_, Paris, 1846, 8vo, p. 314.--L.
+
+The monks, indeed, had heard that the company assembled in the meadow to
+tell the pleasantest tales imaginable, and being fonder of pleasure than
+of their prayers, they had gone and hidden themselves in a ditch, where
+they lay flat on their bellies behind a very thick hedge; and they had
+there listened so eagerly to the stories that they had not heard the
+ringing of the monastery bell, as was soon clearly shown, for they
+returned in such great haste that they almost lacked breath to begin the
+saying of vespers.
+
+After the service, when they were asked why they had been so late and
+had chanted so badly, they confessed that they had been to listen to the
+tales; whereupon, since they were so desirous of hearing them, it was
+granted that they might sit and listen at their ease every day behind
+the hedge.
+
+Supper-time was spent joyously in discoursing of such matters as they
+had not brought to an end in the meadow. And this lasted through the
+evening, until Oisille begged them to retire so that their minds might
+be the more alert on the morrow, after a long, sound sleep, one hour
+of which before midnight was, said she, better than three after it.
+Accordingly the company parted one from another, betaking themselves to
+their respective rooms; and in this wise ended the Second Day.
+
+[Illustration: 029.jpg Tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+THIRD DAY.
+
+_On the Third Day are recounted Tales of the
+Ladies who have only sought what was
+honourable in Love, and of the
+hypocrisy and wickedness
+of the Monks_.
+
+
+
+
+PROLOGUE.
+
+Though it was yet early when the company entered the hall on the morrow,
+they found Madame Oisille there before them. She had been meditating for
+more than half-an-hour upon the lesson that she was going to read; and
+if she had contented them on the first and second days, she assuredly
+did no less on the third; indeed, but that one of the monks came in
+search of them they would not have heard high mass, for so intent were
+they upon listening to her that they did not even hear the bell.
+
+When they had piously heard mass, and had dined with temperance to
+the end that the meats might in no sort hinder the memory of each from
+acquitting itself as well as might be when their several turns came,
+they withdrew to their apartments, there to consult their note-books
+until the wonted hour for repairing to the meadow was come. When it had
+arrived they were not slow to make the pleasant excursion, and those who
+were prepared to tell of some merry circumstance already showed mirthful
+faces that gave promise of much laughter. When they were seated, they
+asked Saffredent to whom he would give his vote for the beginning of the
+Third Day.
+
+“I think,” said he, “that since my offence yesterday was as you say very
+great, and I have knowledge of no story that might atone for it, I ought
+to give my vote to Parlamente, who, with her sound understanding, will
+be able to praise the ladies sufficiently to make you forget such truth
+as you heard from me.”
+
+“I will not undertake,” said Parlamente, “to atone for your offences,
+but I will promise not to imitate them. Wherefore, holding to the truth
+that we have promised and vowed to utter, I propose to show you that
+there are ladies who in their loves have aimed at nought but virtue. And
+since she of whom I am going to speak to you came of an honourable line,
+I will just change the names in my story but nothing more; and I pray
+you, ladies, believe that love has no power to change a chaste and
+virtuous heart, as you will see by the tale I will now begin to tell.”
+
+[Illustration: 035a.jpg Rolandine Conversing With Her Husband]
+
+[Rolandine Conversing With Her Husband]
+
+[Illustration: 035.jpg Page Image]
+
+
+
+
+_TALE XXI_.
+
+     _Having remained unmarried until she was thirty years of
+     age, Rolandine, recognising her father’s neglect and her
+     mistress’s disfavour, fell so deeply in love with a bastard
+     gentleman that she promised him marriage; and this being
+     told to her father he treated her with all the harshness
+     imaginable, in order to make her consent to the dissolving
+     of the marriage; but she continued steadfast in her love
+     until she had received certain tidings of the Bastard’s
+     death, when she was wedded to a gentleman who bore the same
+     name and arms as did her own family_.
+
+There was in France a Queen (1) who brought up in her household several
+maidens belonging to good and noble houses. Among others there was one
+called Rolandine, (2) who was near akin to the Queen; but the latter,
+being for some reason unfriendly with the maiden’s father, showed her no
+great kindness.
+
+Now, although this maiden was not one of the fairest--nor yet indeed was
+she of the ugliest--she was nevertheless so discreet and virtuous that
+many persons of great consequence sought her in marriage. They had,
+however, but a cold reply; for the father (3) was so fond of his money
+that he gave no thought to his daughter’s welfare, while her mistress,
+as I have said, bore her but little favour, so that she was sought by
+none who desired to be advanced in the Queen’s good graces.
+
+     1  This is evidently Anne of Brittany, elder daughter of Duke
+     Francis II. and wife in turn of Charles VIII. and Louis XII.
+     Brantôme says: “She was the first to form that great Court
+     of ladies which we have seen since her time until now; she
+     always had a very great suite of ladies and maids, and never
+     refused fresh ones; far from it, indeed, for she would
+     inquire of the noblemen at Court if they had daughters, and
+     would ask that they might be sent to her.”--Lalanne’s
+     _OEuvres de Brantôme_, vol. vii. p. 314--L.
+
+     2  This by the consent of all the commentators is Anne de
+     Rohan, elder daughter of John II. Viscount de Rohan, Count
+     of Porhoët, Léon and La Garnache, by Mary of Brittany,
+     daughter of Duke Francis I. The date of Anne de Rohan’s
+     birth is not exactly known, but she is said to have been
+     about thirty years of age at the time of the tale, though
+     the incidents related extend over a somewhat lengthy period.
+     However, we know that Anne was ultimately married to Peter
+     de Rohan in 1517, when, according to her marriage contract,
+     she was over thirty-six years old (_Les Preuves de Histoire
+     ecclésiastique et civile de Bretagne_, 1756, vol. v. col.
+     940). From this we may assume that she was thirty in or
+     about 1510. The historical incidents alluded to in the tale
+     would, however, appear to have occurred (as will be shown by
+     subsequent notes) between 1507 and 1509, and we are of
+     opinion that the Queen of Navarre has made her heroine
+     rather older than she really was, and that the story indeed
+     begins in or about 1505, when Rolandine can have been little
+     more than five or six and twenty.--Ed.
+
+     3  See notes to Tale XL. (vol. iv).
+
+Thus, owing to her father’s neglect and her mistress’s disdain, the poor
+maiden continued unmarried for a long while; and this at last made her
+sad at heart, not so much because she longed to be married as because
+she was ashamed at not being so, wherefore she forsook the vanities and
+pomps of the Court and gave herself up wholly to the worship of God. Her
+sole delight consisted in prayer or needlework, and thus in retirement
+she passed her youthful years, living in the most virtuous and holy
+manner imaginable.
+
+Now, when she was approaching her thirtieth year, there was at Court a
+gentleman who was a Bastard of a high and noble house; (4) he was one of
+the pleasantest comrades and most worshipful men of his day, but he was
+wholly without fortune, and possessed of such scant comeliness that no
+lady would have chosen him for her lover.
+
+     4 One cannot absolutely identify this personage; but judging
+     by what is said of him in the story--that he came of a great
+     house, that he was very brave but poor, neither rich enough
+     to marry Rolandine nor handsome enough to be made a lover
+     of, and that a lady, who was a near relative of his, came to
+     the Court after his intrigue had been going on for a couple
+     of years--he would certainly appear to be John, Bastard of
+     Angoulôme, a natural son of Count John the Good, and
+     consequently half-brother to Charles of Angoulôme ( who
+     married Louise of Savoy) and uncle to Francis I. and Queen
+     Margaret. In Père Anselme’s _Histoire Généalogique de la
+     Maison de France_, vol. i. p. 210 B. there is a record of
+     the letters of legitimisation granted to the Bastard of
+     Angoulême at his father’s request in June 1458, and M. Paul
+     Lacroix points out that if Rolandine’s secret marriage to
+     him took place in or about 1508, he would then have been
+     about fifty years old, hardly the age for a lover. The
+     Bastard is, however, alluded to in the tale as a man of
+     mature years, and as at the outset of the intrigue (1505) he
+     would have been but forty-seven, we incline with M. de Lincy
+     to the belief that he is the hero of it.--Eu.
+
+Thus this poor gentleman had continued unmated, and as one unfortunate
+often seeks out another, he addressed himself to Rolandine, whose
+fortune, temper and condition were like his own. And while they were
+engaged in mutually lamenting their woes, they became very fond of each
+other, and finding that they were companions in misfortune, sought out
+one another everywhere, so that they might exchange consolation, in this
+wise setting on foot a deep and lasting attachment.
+
+Those who had known Rolandine so very retiring that she would speak
+to none, were now greatly shocked on seeing her unceasingly with the
+well-born Bastard, and told her governess that she ought not to suffer
+their long talks together. The governess, therefore, remonstrated with
+Rolandine, and told her that every one was shocked at her conversing so
+freely with a man who was neither rich enough to marry her nor handsome
+enough to be her lover.
+
+To this Rolandine, who had always been rebuked rather for austereness
+than for worldliness, replied--
+
+“Alas, mother, you know that I cannot have a husband of my own
+condition, and that I have always shunned such as are handsome and
+young, fearing to fall into the same difficulties as others. And since
+this gentleman is discreet and virtuous, as you yourself know, and tells
+me nothing that is not honourable and right, what harm can I have done
+to you and to those that have spoken of the matter, by seeking from him
+some consolation in my grief?”
+
+The poor old woman, who loved her mistress more than she loved herself,
+replied--
+
+“I can see, my lady, that you speak the truth, and know that you are not
+treated by your father and mistress as you deserve to be. Nevertheless,
+since people are speaking about your honour in this way, you ought to
+converse with him no longer, even were he your own brother.”
+
+“Mother,” said Rolandine, “if such be your counsel I will observe it;
+but ‘tis a strange thing to be wholly without consolation in the world.”
+
+The Bastard came to talk with her according to his wont, but she told
+him everything that her governess had said to her, and, shedding tears,
+besought him to have no converse with her for a while, until the rumour
+should be past and gone; and to this he consented at her request.
+
+Being thus cut off from all consolation, they both began, however, to
+feel such torment during their separation as neither had ever known
+before. For her part she did not cease praying to God, journeying and
+fasting; for love, heretofore unknown to her, caused her such exceeding
+disquiet as not to leave her an hour’s repose. The well-born Bastard was
+no better off; but, as he had already resolved in his heart to love
+her and try to wed her, and had thought not only of his love but of
+the honour that it would bring him if he succeeded in his design, he
+reflected that he must devise a means of making his love known to her
+and, above all, of winning the governess to his side. This last he did
+by protesting to her the wretchedness of her poor mistress, who was
+being robbed of all consolation. At this the old woman, with many tears,
+thanked him for the honourable affection that he bore her mistress, and
+they took counsel together how he might speak with her. They planned
+that Rolandine should often feign to suffer from headache, to which
+noise is exceedingly distressful; so that, when her companions went into
+the Queen’s apartment, she and the Bastard might remain alone, and in
+this way hold converse together.
+
+The Bastard was overjoyed at this, and, guiding himself wholly by the
+governess’s advice, had speech with his sweetheart whensoever he would.
+However, this contentment lasted no great while, for the Queen, who had
+but little love for Rolandine, inquired what she did so constantly
+in her room. Some one replied that it was on account of sickness, but
+another, who possessed too good a memory for the absent, declared that
+the pleasure she took in speaking with the Bastard must needs cause her
+headache to pass away.
+
+The Queen, who deemed the venial sins of others to be mortal ones in
+Rolandine, sent for her and forbade her ever to speak to the Bastard
+except it were in the royal chamber or hall. The maiden gave no sign,
+but replied--
+
+“Had I known, madam, that he or any one beside were displeasing to you,
+I should never have spoken to him.”
+
+Nevertheless she secretly cast about to find some other plan of which
+the Queen should know nothing, and in this she was successful. On
+Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays she was wont to fast, and would then
+stay with her governess in her own room, where, while the others were
+at supper, she was free to speak with the man whom she was beginning to
+love so dearly.
+
+The more they were compelled to shorten their discourse, the more
+lovingly did they talk; for they stole the time even as a robber steals
+something that is of great worth. But, in spite of all their secrecy, a
+serving-man saw the Bastard go into the room one fast day, and reported
+the matter in a quarter where it was not concealed from the Queen. The
+latter was so wroth that the Bastard durst enter the ladies’ room no
+more. Yet, that he might not lose the delight of converse with his love,
+he often made a pretence of going on a journey, and returned in the
+evening to the church or chapel of the castle (5) dressed as a Grey
+Friar or a Jacobin, or disguised so well in some other way that none
+could know him; and thither, attended by her governess, Rolandine would
+go to have speech with him.
+
+     5 This would be either the château of Amboise or that of
+     Blois, we are inclined to think the latter, as Louis XII.
+     more frequently resided there.--Ed.
+
+Then, seeing how great was the love she bore him, he feared not to say--
+
+“You see, fair lady, what risk I run in your service, and how the Queen
+has forbidden you to speak with me. You see, further, what manner of
+man is your father, who has no thought whatsoever of bestowing you in
+marriage. He has rejected so many excellent suitors, that I know of
+none, whether near or far, that can win you. I know that I am poor, and
+that you could not wed a gentleman that were not richer than I; yet,
+if love and good-will were counted wealth, I should hold myself for the
+richest man on earth. God has given you great wealth, and you are like
+to have even more. Were I so fortunate as to be chosen for your husband,
+I would be your husband, lover and servant all my life long; whereas,
+if you take one of equal consideration with yourself--and such a one
+it were hard to find--he will seek to be the master, and will have
+more regard for your wealth than for your person, and for the beauty
+of others than for your virtue; and, whilst enjoying the use of your
+wealth, he will fail to treat you, yourself, as you deserve. And now my
+longing to have this delight, and my fear that you will have none such
+with another, impel me to pray that you will make me a happy man, and
+yourself the most contented and best treated wife that ever lived.”
+
+When Rolandine heard the very words that she herself had purposed
+speaking to him, she replied with a glad countenance--
+
+“I am well pleased that you have been the first to speak such words as
+I had a long while past resolved to say to you. For the two years that
+I have known you I have never ceased to turn over in my mind all the
+arguments for you and against you that I was able to devise; but now
+that I am at last resolved to enter into the married state, it is time
+that 1 should make a beginning and choose some one with whom I may look
+to dwell with tranquil mind. And I have been able to find none, whether
+handsome, rich, or nobly born, with whom my heart and soul could agree
+excepting yourself alone. I know that in marrying you I shall not offend
+God, but rather do what He enjoins, while as to his lordship my father,
+he has regarded my welfare so little, and has rejected so many offers,
+that the law suffers me to marry without fear of being disinherited;
+though, even if I had only that which is now mine, I should, in marrying
+such a husband as you, account myself the richest woman in the world. As
+to the Queen, my mistress, I need have no qualms in displeasing her
+in order to obey God, for never had she any in hindering me from any
+blessing that I might have had in my youth. But, to show you that the
+love I bear you is founded upon virtue and honour, you must promise that
+if I agree to this marriage, you will not seek its consummation until my
+father be dead, or until I have found a means to win his consent.”
+
+To this the Bastard readily agreed, whereupon they exchanged rings in
+token of marriage, and kissed each other in the church in the presence
+of God, calling upon Him to witness their promise; and never afterwards
+was there any other familiarity between them save kissing only.
+
+This slender delight gave great content to the hearts of these two
+perfect lovers; and, secure in their mutual affection, they lived for
+some time without seeing each other. There was scarcely any place where
+honour might be won to which the Bastard did not go, rejoicing that he
+could not now continue a poor man, seeing that God had bestowed on him
+a rich wife; and she during his absence steadfastly cherished their
+perfect love, and made no account of any other living man. And although
+there were some who asked her in marriage, the only answer they had of
+her was that, since she had remained unwedded for so long a time, she
+desired to continue so for ever. (6)
+
+     6  The speeches of Rolandine and the Bastard should be
+     compared with some of Clement Marot’s elegies, notably with
+     one in which he complains of having been surprised while
+     conversing with his mistress in a church.--B. J.
+
+This reply came to the ears of so many people, that the Queen heard of
+it and asked her why she spoke in that way. Rolandine replied that it
+was done in obedience to herself, who had never been pleased to marry
+her to any man who would have well and comfortably provided for her;
+accordingly, being taught by years and patience to be content with her
+present condition, she would always return a like answer whensoever any
+one spoke to her of marriage.
+
+When the wars were over, (7) and the Bastard had returned to Court, she
+never spoke to him in presence of others, but always repaired to
+some church and there had speech with him under pretence of going to
+confession; for the Queen had forbidden them both, under penalty of
+death, to speak together except in public. But virtuous love, which
+recks naught of such a ban, was more ready to find them means of speech
+than were their enemies to spy them out; the Bastard disguised himself
+in the habit of every monkish order he could think of, and thus their
+virtuous intercourse continued, until the King repaired to a pleasure
+house he had near Tours. (8)
+
+     7 The wars here referred to would be one or another of Louis
+     XII.’s Italian expeditions, probably that of 1507, when the
+     battle of Aignadel was fought.--Ed.
+
+     8 This would no doubt be the famous château of Plessis-lez-
+     Tours, within a mile of Tours, and long the favourite
+     residence of Louis XI. Louis XII. is known to have sojourned
+     at Plessis in 1507, at the time when the States-general
+     conferred upon him the title of “Father of the People.”
+      English tourists often visit Plessis now adays in memory of
+     Scott’s “Quentin Durward,” but only a few shapeless ruins of
+     the old structure are left.--M. and Ed.
+
+This, however, was not near enough for the ladies to go on foot to any
+other church but that of the castle, which was built in such a fashion
+that it contained no place of concealment in which the confessor would
+not have been plainly recognised.
+
+But if one opportunity failed them, love found them another and an
+easier one, for there came to the Court a lady to whom the Bastard
+was near akin. This lady was lodged, together with her son, (9) in the
+King’s abode; and the young Prince’s room projected from the rest of the
+King’s apartments in such a way that from his window it was possible to
+see and to speak to Rolandine, for his window and hers were just at the
+angle made by the two wings of the house.
+
+     9 This lady would be Louise of Savoy. She first came to the
+     Court at Amboise in 1499, a circumstance which has led some
+     commentators to place the incidents of this story at that
+     date. But she was at Blois on various occasions between 1507
+     and 1509, to negotiate and attend the marriage of her
+     daughter Margaret with the Duke of Alençon. Louis XII.
+     having gone from Blois to Plessis in 1507, Louise of Savoy
+     may well have followed him thither. Her son was, of course,
+     the young Duke de Valois, afterwards Francis I.--Ed.
+
+In this room of hers, which was over the King’s presence-chamber, all
+the noble damsels that were Rolandine’s companions were lodged with her.
+She, having many times observed the young Prince at his window, made
+this known to the Bastard through her governess; and he, having made
+careful observation of the place, feigned to take great pleasure in
+reading a book about the Knights of the Round Table (10) which was in
+the Prince’s room.
+
+     10  Romances of chivalry were much sought after at this time.
+     Not merely were there MS. copies of these adorned with
+     miniatures, but we find that _L’Histoire du Saint Gréai, La
+     Vie et les Prophéties de Merlin, and Les Merveilleux Faits
+     et Gestes du Noble Chevalier Lancelot du Lac_ were printed
+     in France in the early years of the sixteenth century.--B.J.
+
+And when every one was going to dinner, he would beg a valet to let him
+finish his reading, shut up in the room, over which he promised to keep
+good guard. The servants knew him to be a kinsman of his master and one
+to be trusted, let him read as much as he would. Rolandine, on her part,
+would then come to her window; and, so that she might be able to make
+a long stay at it, she pretended to have an infirmity in the leg, and
+accordingly dined and supped so early that she no longer frequented the
+ladies’ table. She likewise set herself to work a coverlet of crimson
+silk, (11) and fastened it at the window, where she desired to be alone;
+and, when she saw that none was by, she would converse with her husband,
+who contrived to speak in such a voice as could not be overheard; and
+whenever any one was coming, she would cough and make a sign, so that
+the Bastard might withdraw in good time.
+
+     11  In the French, “_Ung lût de reseul:” reticella--i.e._, a
+     kind of open work embroidery very fashionable in those days,
+     and the most famous designers of which were Frederic
+     Vinciolo, Dominic de Sara, and John Cousin the painter.
+     Various sixteenth and seventeenth century books on
+     needlework, still extant, give some curious information
+     concerning this form of embroidery.--M.
+
+Those who kept watch upon them felt sure that their love was past, for
+she never stirred from the room in which, as they thought, he could
+assuredly never see her, since it was forbidden him to enter it.
+
+One day, however, the young Prince’s mother, (12) being in her son’s
+room, placed herself at the window where this big book lay, and had
+not long been there when one of Rolandine’s companions, who was at the
+window in the opposite room, greeted her and spoke to her. The lady
+asked her how Rolandine did; whereon the other replied that she might
+see her if she would, and brought her to the window in her nightcap.
+Then, when they had spoken together about her sickness, they withdrew
+from the window on either side.
+
+     12  Louise of Savoy.
+
+The lady, observing the big book about the Round Table, said to the
+servant who had it in his keeping--
+
+“I am surprised that young folk can waste their time in reading such
+foolishness.”
+
+The servant replied that he marvelled even more that people accounted
+sensible and of mature age should have a still greater liking for it
+than the young; and he told her, as matter for wonderment, how her
+cousin the Bastard would spend four or five hours each day in reading
+this fine book. Straightway there came into the lady’s mind the
+reason why he acted thus, and she charged the servant to hide himself
+somewhere, and take account of what the Bastard might do. This the man
+did, and found that the Bastard’s book was the window to which Rolandine
+came to speak with him, and he, moreover, heard many a love-speech which
+they had thought to keep wholly secret.
+
+On the morrow he related this to his mistress, who sent for the Bastard,
+and after chiding him forbade him to return to that place again; and in
+the evening she spoke of the matter to Rolandine, and threatened, if she
+persisted in this foolish love, to make all these practices known to the
+Queen.
+
+Rolandine, whom nothing could dismay, vowed that in spite of all that
+folks might say she had never spoken to him since her mistress had
+forbidden her to do so, as might be learned both from her companions and
+from her servants and attendants. And as for the window, she declared
+that she had never spoken at it to the Bastard. He, however, fearing
+that the matter had been discovered, withdrew out of harm’s way, and was
+a long time without returning to Court, though not without writing to
+Rolandine, and this in so cunning a manner that, in spite of the Queen’s
+vigilance, never a week went by but she twice heard from him.
+
+When he no longer found it possible to employ monks as messengers, as
+he had done at first, he would send a little page, dressed now in one
+colour and now in another; and the page used to stand at the doorways
+through which the ladies were wont to pass, and deliver his letters
+secretly in the throng. But one day, when the Queen was going out into
+the country, it chanced that one who was charged to look after this
+matter recognised the page, and hastened after him; but he, being
+keen-witted and suspecting that he was being pursued, entered the house
+of a poor woman who was boiling her pot on the fire, and there forthwith
+burned his letters. The gentleman who followed him stripped him naked
+and searched through all his clothes; but he could find nothing, and so
+let him go. And the boy being gone, the old woman asked the gentleman
+why he had so searched him.
+
+“To find some letters,” he replied, “which I thought he had upon him.”
+
+“You could by no means have found them,” said the old woman, “they were
+too well hidden for that.”
+
+“I pray you,” said the gentleman, in the hope of getting them before
+long, “tell me where they were.”
+
+However, when he heard that they had been thrown into the fire, he
+perceived that the page had proved more crafty than himself, and
+forthwith made report of the matter to the Queen.
+
+From that time, however, the Bastard no longer employed the page or any
+other child, but sent an old servant of his, who, laying aside all fear
+of the death which, as he well knew, was threatened by the Queen against
+all such as should interfere in this matter, undertook to carry his
+master’s letters to Rolandine. And having come to the castle where she
+was, he posted himself on the watch at the foot of a broad staircase,
+beside a doorway through which all the ladies were wont to pass. But a
+serving-man, who had aforetime seen him, knew him again immediately and
+reported the matter to the Queen’s Master of the Household, who quickly
+came to arrest him. However, the discreet and wary servant, seeing that
+he was being watched from a distance, turned towards the wall as
+though he desired to make water, and tearing the letter he had into
+the smallest possible pieces, threw them behind a door. Immediately
+afterwards he was taken and thoroughly searched, and nothing being found
+on him, they asked him on his oath whether he had not brought letters,
+using all manner of threats and persuasions to make him confess the
+truth; but neither by promises nor threats could they draw anything from
+him.
+
+Report of this having been made to the Queen, some one in the company
+bethought him that it would be well to look behind the door near which
+the man had been taken. This was done, and they found what they sought,
+namely the pieces of the letter. Then the King’s confessor was sent for,
+and he, having put the pieces together on a table, read the whole of the
+letter, in which the truth of the marriage, that had been so carefully
+concealed, was made manifest; for the Bastard called Rolandine nothing
+but “wife.” The Queen, who was in no mind, as she should have been, to
+hide her neighbour’s transgressions, made a great ado about the matter,
+and commanded that all means should be employed to make the poor man
+confess the truth of the letter. And indeed, when they showed it to him,
+he could not deny it; but for all they could say or show, he would say
+no more than at first. Those who had him in charge thereupon brought him
+to the brink of the river, and put him into a sack, declaring that he
+had lied to God and to the Queen, contrary to proven truth. But he was
+minded to die rather than accuse his master, and asked for a confessor;
+and when he had eased his conscience as well as might be, he said to
+them--
+
+“Good sirs, I pray you tell the Bastard, my master, that I commend the
+lives of my wife and children to him, for right willingly do I yield up
+my own in his service. You may do with me what you will, for never shall
+you draw from me a word against my master.”
+
+Thereupon, all the more to affright him, they threw him in the sack into
+the water, calling to him--
+
+“If you will tell the truth, you shall be saved.”
+
+Finding, however, that he answered nothing, they drew him out again, and
+made report of his constancy to the Queen, who on hearing of it declared
+that neither the King nor herself were so fortunate in their followers
+as was this gentleman the Bastard, though he lacked even the means to
+requite them. She then did all that she could to draw the servant into
+her own service, but he would by no means consent to forsake his master.
+However, by the latter’s leave, he at last entered the Queen’s service,
+in which he lived in happiness and contentment.
+
+The Queen, having learnt the truth of the marriage from the Bastard’s
+letter, sent for Rolandine, whom with a wrathful countenance she several
+times called “wretch” instead of “cousin,” reproaching her with the
+shame that she had brought both upon her father’s house and her mistress
+by thus marrying without her leave or commandment.
+
+Rolandine, who had long known what little love her mistress bore her,
+gave her but little in return. Moreover, since there was no love between
+them, neither was there fear; and as Rolandine perceived that this
+reprimand, given her in presence of several persons, was prompted less
+by affection than by a desire to put her to shame, and that the Queen
+felt more pleasure in chiding her than grief at finding her in fault,
+she replied with a countenance as glad and tranquil as the Queen’s was
+disturbed and wrathful--
+
+“If, madam, you did not know your own heart, such as it is, I would set
+forth to you the ill-will that you have long borne my father (13) and
+myself; but you do, indeed, know this, and will not deem it strange that
+all the world should have an inkling of it too. For my own part, madam,
+I have perceived it to my dear cost, for had you been pleased to favour
+me equally as you favour those who are not so near to you as myself, I
+were now married to your honour as well as to my own; but you passed
+me over as one wholly a stranger to your favour, and so all the good
+matches I might have made passed away before my eyes, through my
+father’s neglect and the slenderness of your regard. By reason of this
+treatment I fell into such deep despair, that, had my health been strong
+enough in any sort to endure a nun’s condition, I would have willingly
+entered upon it to escape from the continual griefs your harshness
+brought me.
+
+     13  Of all those with pretensions to the Duchy of Brittany,
+     the Viscount de Rohan had doubtless the best claim, though
+     he met with the least satisfaction. It was, however, this
+     reason that led the Queen [Anne of Brittany] to treat him
+     with such little regard. It was with mingled grief and
+     resentment that this proud princess realised how real were
+     the Viscount’s rights; moreover, she never forgave him for
+     having taken up arms against her in favour of France; and
+     seeking an opportunity to avenge herself, she found one in
+     giving the Viscount but little satisfaction in the matter of
+     his pretensions.”--Dora Morice’s _Histoire ecclésiastique et
+     civile de Bretagne_, Paris, 1756, vol. ii. p. 231.--L.
+
+“Whilst in this despair I was sought by one whose lineage would be as
+good as my own if mutual love were rated as high as a marriage ring; for
+you know that his father would walk before mine. He has long wooed and
+loved me; but you, madam, who have never forgiven me the smallest fault
+nor praised me for any good deed, you--although you knew from experience
+that I was not wont to speak of love or worldly things, and that I led a
+more retired and religious life than any other of your maids--forthwith
+deemed it strange that I should speak with a gentleman who is as
+unfortunate in this life as I am myself, and one, moreover, in whose
+friendship I thought and looked to have nothing save comfort to my soul.
+When I found myself wholly baffled in this design, I fell into great
+despair, and resolved to seek my peace as earnestly as you longed to rob
+me of it; whereupon we exchanged words of marriage, and confirmed them
+with promise and ring. Wherefore, madam, methinks you do me a grievous
+wrong in calling me wicked, seeing that in this great and perfect love,
+wherein opportunity, had I so desired, would not have been lacking, no
+greater familiarity has passed between us than a kiss. I have waited in
+the hope that, before the consummation of the marriage, I might by the
+grace of God win my father’s heart to consent to it. I have given no
+offence to God or to my conscience, for I have waited till the age of
+thirty to see what you and my father would do for me, and have kept my
+youth in such chastity and virtue that no living man can bring up aught
+against me. But when I found that I was old and without hope of being
+wedded suitably to my birth and condition, I used the reason that God
+has given me, and resolved to marry a gentleman after my own heart. And
+this I did not to gratify the lust of the eye, for you know that he is
+not handsome; nor the lust of the flesh, for there has been no carnal
+consummation of our marriage; nor the ambition and pride of life, for he
+is poor and of small rank; but I took account purely and simply of the
+worth that is in him, for which every one is constrained to praise him,
+and also of the great love that he bears me, and that gives me hope
+of having a life of quietness and kindness with him. Having carefully
+weighed all the good and the evil that may come of it, I have done what
+seems to me best, and, after considering the matter in my heart for two
+years, I am resolved to pass the remainder of my days with him. And so
+firm is my resolve that no torment that may be inflicted upon me, nor
+even death itself, shall ever cause me to depart from it. Wherefore,
+madam, I pray you excuse that which is indeed very excusable, as you
+yourself must realise, and suffer me to dwell in that peace which I hope
+to find with him.”
+
+The Queen, finding her so steadfast of countenance and so true of
+speech, could make no reply in reason, but continued wrathfully rebuking
+and reviling her, bursting into tears and saying--
+
+“Wretch that you are! instead of humbling yourself before me, and
+repenting of so grievous a fault, you speak hardily with never a tear
+in your eye, and thus clearly show the obstinacy and hardness of your
+heart. But if the King and your father give heed to me, they will put
+you into a place where you will be compelled to speak after a different
+fashion.”
+
+“Madam,” replied Rolandine, “since you charge me with speaking too
+hardily, I will e’en be silent if you give me not permission to reply to
+you.”
+
+Then, being commanded to speak, she went on--
+
+“‘Tis not for me, madam, to speak to you, my mistress and the greatest
+Princess in Christendom, hardily and without the reverence that I owe to
+you, nor have I purposed doing so; but I have no defender to speak for
+me except the truth, and as this is known to me alone, I am forced to
+utter it fearlessly in the hope that, when you know it, you will not
+hold me for such as you have been pleased to name me. I fear not that
+any living being should learn how I have comported myself in the matter
+that is laid to my charge, for I know that I have offended neither
+against God nor against my honour. And this it is that enables me to
+speak without fear; for I feel sure that He who sees my heart is on my
+side, and with such a Judge in my favour, I were wrong to fear such as
+are subject to His decision. Why should I weep? My conscience and my
+heart do not at all rebuke me, and so far am I from repenting of this
+matter, that, were it to be done over again, I should do just the same.
+But you, madam, have good cause to weep both for the deep wrong that you
+have done me throughout my youth, and for that which you are now doing
+me, in rebuking me publicly for a fault that should be laid at your door
+rather than at mine. Had I offended God, the King, yourself, my kinsfolk
+or my conscience, I were indeed obstinate and perverse if I did
+not greatly repent with tears; but I may not weep for that which
+is excellent, just and holy, and which would have received only
+commendation had you not made it known before the proper time. In
+doing this, you have shown that you had a greater desire to compass my
+dishonour than to preserve the honour of your house and kin. But, since
+such is your pleasure, madam, I have nothing to say against it; command
+me what suffering you will, and I, innocent though I am, will be as
+glad to endure as you to inflict it. Wherefore, madam, you may charge
+my father to inflict whatsoever torment you would have me undergo, for
+I well know that he will not fail to obey you. It is pleasant to know
+that, to work me ill, he will wholly fall in with your desire, and that
+as he has neglected my welfare in submission to your will, so will he
+be quick to obey you to my hurt. But I have a Father in Heaven, and He
+will, I am sure, give me patience equal to all the evils that I foresee
+you preparing for me, and in Him alone do I put my perfect trust.”
+
+The Queen, beside herself with wrath, commanded that Rolandine should
+be taken from her sight and put into a room alone, where she might have
+speech with no one. However, her governess was not taken from her, and
+through her Rolandine acquainted the Bastard with all that had befallen
+her, and asked him what he would have her do. He, thinking that his
+services to the King might avail him something, came with all speed to
+the Court. Finding the King at the chase, he told him the whole truth,
+entreating him to favour a poor gentleman so far as to appease the Queen
+and bring about the consummation of the marriage.
+
+The King made no reply except to ask--
+
+“Do you assure me that you have wedded her?”
+
+“Yes, sire,” said the Bastard, “but by word of mouth alone; however, if
+it please you, we’ll make an ending of it.”
+
+The King bent his head, and, without saying anything more, returned
+straight towards the castle, and when he was nigh to it summoned the
+Captain of his Guard, and charged him to take the Bastard prisoner.
+
+However, a friend who knew and could interpret the King’s visage, warned
+the Bastard to withdraw and betake himself to a house of his that was
+hard by, saying that if the King, as he expected, sought for him, he
+should know of it forthwith, so that he might fly the kingdom; whilst
+if, on the other hand, things became smoother, he should have word to
+return. The Bastard followed this counsel, and made such speed that the
+Captain of the Guards was not able to find him.
+
+The King and Queen took counsel together as to what they should do with
+the hapless lady who had the honour of being related to them, and by
+the Queen’s advice it was decided that she should be sent back to her
+father, and that he should be made acquainted with the whole truth.
+
+But before sending her away they caused many priests and councillors to
+speak with her and show her that, since her marriage consisted in words
+only, it might by mutual agreement readily be made void; and this, they
+urged, the King desired her to do in order to maintain the honour of the
+house to which she belonged.
+
+She made answer that she was ready to obey the King in all such things
+as were not contrary to her conscience, but that those whom God had
+brought together man could not put asunder. She therefore begged them
+not to tempt her to anything so unreasonable; for if love and goodwill
+founded on the fear of God were the true and certain marriage ties, she
+was linked by bonds that neither steel nor flame nor water could sever.
+Death alone might do this, and to death alone would she resign her ring
+and her oath. She therefore prayed them to gainsay her no more; for so
+strong of purpose was she that she would rather keep faith and die than
+break it and live.
+
+This steadfast reply was repeated to the King by those whom he had
+appointed to speak with her, and when it was found that she could by no
+means be brought to renounce her husband, she was sent to her father,
+and this in so pitiful a plight that all who beheld her pass wept to see
+her. And although she had done wrong, her punishment was so grievous and
+her constancy so great, that her wrongdoing was made to appear a virtue.
+
+When her father heard the pitiful tale, he would not see her, but sent
+her away to a castle in a forest, which he had aforetime built for a
+reason well worthy to be related. (14) There he kept her in prison for a
+long time, causing her to be told that if she would give up her husband
+he would treat her as his daughter and set her free.
+
+     14  The famous château of Josselin in Morbihan. See notes to
+     Tale XL., vol. lv.--Ed.
+
+Nevertheless she continued firm, for she preferred the bonds of prison
+together with those of marriage, to all the freedom in the world without
+her husband. And, judging from her countenance, all her woes seemed but
+pleasant pastimes to her, since she was enduring them for one she loved.
+
+And now, what shall I say of men? The Bastard, who was so deeply
+beholden to her, as you have seen, fled to Germany where he had many
+friends, and there showed by his fickleness that he had sought Rolandine
+less from true and perfect love than from avarice and ambition; for he
+fell deeply in love with a German lady, and forgot to write to the woman
+who for his sake was enduring so much tribulation. However cruel Fortune
+might be towards them, they were always able to write to each other,
+until he conceived this foolish and wicked love. And Rolandine’s heart
+gaining an inkling of it, she could no longer rest.
+
+And afterwards, when she found that his letters were colder and
+different from what they had been before, she suspected that some new
+love was separating her from her husband, and doing that which all the
+torments and afflictions laid upon herself had been unable to effect.
+Nevertheless, her perfect love would not pass judgment on mere
+suspicion, so she found a means of secretly sending a trusty servant,
+not to carry letters or messages to him, but to watch him and discover
+the truth. When this servant had returned from his journey, he told her
+that the Bastard was indeed deeply in love with a German lady, and that
+according to common report he was seeking to marry her, for she was very
+rich.
+
+These tidings brought extreme and unendurable grief to Rolandine’s
+heart, so that she fell grievously sick. Those who knew the cause of
+her sickness, told her on behalf of her father that, with this great
+wickedness on the part of the Bastard before her eyes, she might now
+justly renounce him. They did all they could to persuade her to that
+intent, but, notwithstanding her exceeding anguish, she could not be
+brought to change her purpose, and in this last temptation again gave
+proof of her great love and surpassing virtue. For as love grew less and
+less on his part, so did it grow greater on hers, and in this way make
+good that which was lost. And when she knew that the entire and perfect
+love that once had been shared by both remained but in her heart alone,
+she resolved to preserve it there until one or the other of them should
+die. And the Divine Goodness, which is perfect charity and true love,
+took pity upon her grief and long suffering, in such wise that a few
+days afterwards the Bastard died while occupied in seeking after another
+woman. Being advised of this by certain persons who had seen him laid in
+the ground, she sent to her father and begged that he would be pleased
+to speak with her.
+
+Her father, who had never spoken to her since her imprisonment, came
+without delay. He listened to all the pleas that she had to urge, and
+then, instead of rebuking her or killing her as he had often threatened,
+he took her in his arms and wept exceedingly.
+
+“My daughter,” he said, “you are more in the right than I, for if there
+has been any wrongdoing in this matter, I have been its principal cause.
+But now, since God has so ordered it, I would gladly atone for the
+past.”
+
+He took her home and treated her as his eldest daughter. A gentleman
+who bore the same name and arms as did her own family sought her in
+marriage; he was very sensible and virtuous, (15) and he thought so much
+of Rolandine, whom he often visited, that he gave praise to what
+others blamed in her, perceiving that virtue had been her only aim.
+The marriage, being acceptable both to Rolandine and to her father, was
+concluded without delay.
+
+It is true, however, that a brother she had, the sole heir of their
+house, would not grant her a portion, for he charged her with having
+disobeyed her father. And after his father’s death he treated her so
+harshly that she and her husband (who was a younger son) had much ado to
+live. (16)
+
+     15  Peter de Rohan-Gié, Lord of Frontenay, third son of
+     Peter de Rohan, Lord of Gié, Marshal of Prance and preceptor
+     to Francis I. As previously stated, the marriage took place
+     in 1517, and eight years later the husband was killed at
+     Pavia.--Ed.
+
+     16  Anne de Rohan (Rolandine) had two brothers, James and
+     Claud. Both died without issue. Some particulars concerning
+     them will be found in the notes to Tale XL. The father’s
+     death, according to Anselme, took place in 1516, that is,
+     prior to Anne’s marriage.--Ed.
+
+However, God provided for them, for the brother that sought to keep
+everything died suddenly one day, leaving behind him both her wealth,
+which he was keeping back, and his own.
+
+Thus did she inherit a large and rich estate, whereon she lived piously
+and virtuously and in her husband’s love. And after she had brought up
+the two sons that God gave to them, (17) she yielded with gladness her
+soul to Him in whom she had at all times put her perfect trust.
+
+     17 Anne’s sons were René and Claud. Miss Mary Robinson (_The
+     Fortunate Lovers_, London, 1887) believes René to be
+     “Saffredent,” and his wife Isabel d’Albret, sister of Queen
+     Margaret’s husband Henry of Navarre, to be “Nomerfide.”--Ed.
+
+“Now, ladies, let the men who would make us out so fickle come forward
+and point to an instance of as good a husband as this lady was a good
+wife, and of one having like faith and steadfastness. I am sure they
+would find it so difficult to do this, that I will release them from
+the task rather than put them to such exceeding toil. But as for you,
+ladies, I would pray you, for the sake of maintaining your own fair
+fame, either to love not at all, or else to love as perfectly as she
+did. And let none among you say that this lady offended against her
+honour, seeing that her constancy has served to heighten our own.”
+
+“In good sooth, Parlamente,” said Oisille, “you have indeed told us
+the story of a woman possessed of a noble and honourable heart; but her
+constancy derives half its lustre from the faithlessness of a husband
+that could leave her for another.”
+
+“I think,” said Longarine, “that the grief so caused must have been
+the hardest to bear. There is none so heavy that the love of two united
+lovers cannot support it; but when one fails in his duty, and leaves
+the whole of the burden to the other, the load becomes too heavy to be
+endured.”
+
+“Then you ought to pity us,” said Geburon, “for we have to bear the
+whole burden of love, and you will not put out the tip of a finger to
+relieve us.”
+
+“Ah, Geburon,” said Parlamente, “the burdens of men and of women are
+often different enough. The love of a woman, being founded on godliness
+and honour, is just and reasonable, and any man that is false to it must
+be reckoned a coward, and a sinner against God and man. On the other
+hand, most men love only with reference to pleasure, and women, being
+ignorant of their ill intent, are sometimes ensnared; but when God shows
+them how vile is the heart of the man whom they deemed good, they may
+well draw back to save their honour and reputation, for soonest ended is
+best mended.”
+
+“Nay, that is a whimsical idea of yours,” said Hircan, “to hold that an
+honourable woman may in all honour betray the love of a man; but that
+a man may not do as much towards a woman. You would make out that the
+heart of the one differs from that of the other; but for my part, in
+spite of their differences in countenance and dress, I hold them to
+be alike in inclination, except indeed that the guilt which is best
+concealed is the worst.”
+
+Thereto Parlamente replied with some heat--
+
+“I am well aware that in your opinion the best women are those whose
+guilt is known.”
+
+“Let us leave this discourse,” said Simontault; “for whether we take
+the heart of man or the heart of woman, the better of the twain is worth
+nothing. And now let us see to whom Parlamente is going to give her
+vote, so that we may hear some fine tale.”
+
+“I give it,” she said, “to Geburon.”
+
+“Since I began,” (18) he replied, “by talking about the Grey friars, I
+must not forget those of Saint Benedict, nor an adventure in which they
+were concerned in my own time. Nevertheless, in telling you the story of
+a wicked monk, I do not wish to hinder you from having a good opinion of
+such as are virtuous; but since the Psalmist says ‘all men are liars,’
+and in another place, ‘there is none that doeth good, no not one,’ (19)
+I think we are bound to look upon men as they really are. If there be
+any virtue in them, we must attribute it to Him who is its source, and
+not to the creature. Most people deceive themselves by giving overmuch
+praise or glory to the latter, or by thinking that there is something
+good in themselves. That you may not deem it impossible for exceeding
+lust to exist under exceeding austerity, listen to what befel in the
+days of King Francis the First.”
+
+     18  See the first tale he tells, No. 5, vol. i.--Ed.
+
+     19  Psalms cxvi. 11 and xiv. 3.
+
+[Illustration: 071.jpg Tailpiece]
+
+[Illustration: 073a.jpg Sister Marie and the Prior]
+
+[Sister Marie and the Prior]
+
+[Illustration: 073.jpg Page Image]
+
+
+
+
+_TALE XXII_.
+
+     _Sister Marie Heroet, being unchastely solicited by a Prior
+     of Saint-Martin-in-the-Fields, was by the grace of God
+     enabled to overcome his great temptations, to the Prior’s
+     exceeding confusion and her own glory_. (1)
+
+     1  This story is historical, and though M. Frank indicates
+     points of similarity between it and No. xxvii. of St. Denis’
+     _Comptes du Monde Adventureux_, and No. vi. of Masuccio de
+     Solerac’s _Novellino_, these are of little account when one
+     remembers that the works in question were written posterior
+     to the _Heptameron_. The incidents related in the tale must
+     have occurred between 1530 and 1535. The Abbey of Saint-
+     Martin-in-the-Fields stood on the site of the present
+     Conservatoire des Arts et Métiers, Paris.--Ed.
+
+In the city of Paris there was a Prior of Saint-Martin-in-the-Fields,
+whose name I will keep secret for the sake of the friendship I bore him.
+Until he reached the age of fifty years, his life was so austere that
+the fame of his holiness was spread throughout the entire kingdom, and
+there was not a prince or princess but showed him high honour when he
+came to visit them. There was further no monkish reform that was not
+wrought by his hand, so that people called him the “father of true
+monasticism.” (2)
+
+He was chosen visitor to the illustrious order of the “Ladies of
+Fontevrault,” (3) by whom he was held in such awe that, when he visited
+any of their convents, the nuns shook with very fear, and to soften his
+harshness towards them would treat him as though he had been the King
+himself in person. At first he would not have them do this, but at last,
+when he was nearly fifty-five years old, he began to find the treatment
+he had formerly contemned very pleasant; and reckoning himself the
+mainstay of all monasticism, he gave more care to the preservation of
+his health than had heretofore been his wont. Although the rules of
+his order forbade him ever to partake of flesh, he granted himself a
+dispensation (which was more than he ever did for another), declaring
+that the whole burden of conventual affairs rested upon him; for which
+reason he feasted himself so well that, from being a very lean monk he
+became a very fat one.
+
+     2 This prior was Stephen Gentil, who succeeded Philip
+     Bourgoin on December 15, 1508, and died November 6, 1536.
+     The _Gallia Christiana_ states that in 1524 he reformed an
+     abbey of the diocese of Soissons, but makes no mention of
+     his appointment as visitor to the abbey of Fontevrault.
+     Various particulars concerning him will be found in Manor’s
+     _Monasterii Regalis S. Martini de Campis, &c. Parisiis_,
+     1636, and in _Gallia Christiana_, vol. vii. col. 539.--L.
+
+     3 The abbey of Fontevrault, near Saumur, Maine-et-Loire, was
+     founded in 1100 by Robert d’Arbrissel, and comprised two
+     conventual establishments, one for men and the other for
+     women. Prior to his death, d’Arbrissel abdicated his
+     authority in favour of Petronilla de Chemillé, and from her
+     time forward monks and nuns alike were always under the sway
+     of an abbess--this being the only instance of the kind in
+     the history of the Roman Catholic Church. Fourteen of the
+     abbesses were princesses, and several of these were of the
+     blood royal of France. In the abbey church were buried our
+     Henry II., Eleanor of Guienne, Richard Coeur-de-Lion, and
+     Isabella of Angoulême; their tombs are still shown, though
+     the abbey has become a prison, and its church a refectory.--
+     Ed.
+
+Together with this change of life there was wrought also a great change
+of heart, so that he now began to cast glances upon countenances which
+aforetime he had looked at only as a duty; and, contemplating charms
+which were rendered even more desirable by the veil, he began to hanker
+after them. Then, to satisfy this longing, he sought out such cunning
+devices that at last from being a shepherd he became a wolf, so that in
+many a convent, where there chanced to be a simple maiden, he failed
+not to beguile her. But after he had continued this evil life for a
+long time, the Divine Goodness took compassion upon the poor, wandering
+sheep, and would no longer suffer this villain’s triumph to endure, as
+you shall hear.
+
+One day he went to visit the convent of Gif, (4) not far from Paris,
+and while he was confessing all the nuns, it happened that there was one
+among them called Marie Heroet, whose speech was so gentle and pleasing
+that it gave promise of a countenance and heart to match.
+
+     4  Gif, an abbey of the Benedictine order, was situated at
+     five leagues from Paris, in the valley of Chevreuse, on the
+     bank of the little river Yvette. A few ruins of it still
+     remain. It appears to have been founded in the eleventh
+     century.--See Le Beuf s _Histoire du Diocèse de Paris_, vol.
+     viii. part viii. p. 106, and _Gallia Christiana_, vol. vii.
+     col. 596.--L. and D.
+
+The mere sound of her voice moved him with a passion exceeding any that
+he had ever felt for other nuns, and, while speaking to her, he bent
+low to look at her, and perceiving her rosy, winsome mouth, could not
+refrain from lifting her veil to see whether her eyes were in keeping
+therewith. He found that they were, and his heart was filled with so
+ardent a passion that, although he sought to conceal it, his countenance
+became changed, and he could no longer eat or drink. When he returned
+to his priory, he could find no rest, but passed his days and nights in
+deep disquiet, seeking to devise a means whereby he might accomplish his
+desire, and make of this nun what he had already made of many others.
+But this, he feared, would be difficult, seeing that he had found her
+to be prudent of speech and shrewd of understanding; moreover, he knew
+himself to be old and ugly, and therefore resolved not to employ words
+but to seek to win her by fear.
+
+Accordingly, not long afterwards, he returned to the convent of Gif
+aforesaid, where he showed more austerity than he had ever done before,
+and spoke wrathfully to all the nuns, telling one that her veil was not
+low enough, another that she carried her head too high, and another
+that she did not do him reverence as a nun should do. So harsh was he in
+respect of all these trifles, that they feared him as though he had been
+a god sitting on the throne of judgment.
+
+Being gouty, he grew very weary in visiting all the usual parts of the
+convent, and it thus came to pass that about the hour for vespers, an
+hour which he had himself fixed upon, he found himself in the dormitory,
+when the Abbess said to him--
+
+“Reverend father, it is time to go to vespers.”
+
+“Go, mother,” he replied, “do you go to vespers. I am so weary that I
+will remain here, yet not to rest but to speak to Sister Marie, of
+whom I have had a very bad report, for I am told that she prates like a
+worldly-minded woman.”
+
+The Abbess, who was aunt to the maiden’s mother, begged him to
+reprove her soundly, and left her alone with him and a young monk who
+accompanied him.
+
+When he found himself alone with Sister Marie, he began to lift up her
+veil, and to tell her to look at him. She answered that the rule of her
+order forbade her to look at men.
+
+“It is well said, my daughter,” he replied, “but you must not consider
+us monks as men.”
+
+Then Sister Marie, fearing to sin by disobedience, looked him in the
+face; but he was so ugly that she though it rather a penance than a sin
+to look at him.
+
+The good father, after telling her at length of his goodwill towards
+her, sought to lay his hand upon her breasts; but she repulsed him, as
+was her duty; whereupon, in great wrath, he said to her--
+
+“Should a nun know that she has breasts?”
+
+“I know that I have,” she replied, “and certes neither you nor any other
+shall ever touch them. I am not so young and ignorant that I do not know
+the difference between what is sin and what is not.”
+
+When he saw that such talk would not prevail upon her, he adopted a
+different plan, and said--
+
+“Alas, my daughter, I must make known to you my extreme need. I have an
+infirmity which all the physicians hold to be incurable unless I have
+pleasure with some woman whom I greatly love. For my part, I would
+rather die than commit a mortal sin; but, when it comes to that, I know
+that simple fornication is in no wise to be compared with the sin of
+homicide. So, if you love my life, you will preserve it for me, as well
+as your own conscience from cruelty.”
+
+She asked him what manner of pleasure he desired to have. He replied
+that she might safely surrender her conscience to his own, and that he
+would do nothing that could be a burden to either.
+
+Then, to let her see the beginning of the pastime that he sought, he
+took her in his arms and tried to throw her upon a bed. She, recognising
+his evil purpose, defended herself so well with arms and voice that he
+could only touch her garments. Then, when he saw that all his devices
+and efforts were being brought to naught, he behaved like a madman and
+one devoid not only of conscience but of natural reason, for, thrusting
+his hand under her dress, he scratched wherever his nails could reach
+with such fury that the poor girl shrieked out, and fell swooning at
+full length upon the floor.
+
+Hearing this cry, the Abbess came into the dormitory; for while at
+vespers she had remembered that she had left her niece’s daughter alone
+with the good father, and feeling some scruples of conscience, she had
+left the chapel and repaired to the door of the dormitory in order to
+learn what was going on. On hearing her niece’s voice, she pushed open
+the door, which was being held by the young monk.
+
+And when the Prior saw the Abbess coming, he pointed to her niece as she
+lay in a swoon, and said--
+
+“Assuredly, mother, you are greatly to blame that you did not inform me
+of Sister Marie’s condition. Knowing nothing of her weakness, I caused
+her to stand before me, and, while I was reproving her, she swooned away
+as you see.”
+
+They revived her with vinegar and other remedies, and found that she had
+wounded her head in her fall. When she was recovered, the Prior, fearing
+that she would tell her aunt the reason of her indisposition, took her
+aside and said to her--
+
+“I charge you, my daughter, if you would be obedient and hope for
+salvation, never to speak of what I said to you just now. You must know
+that it was my exceeding love for you that constrained me, but since
+I see that you do not wish to love me, I will never speak of it to you
+again. However, if you be willing, I promise to have you chosen Abbess
+of one of the three best convents in the kingdom.”
+
+She replied that she would rather die in perpetual imprisonment than
+have any lover save Him who had died for her on the cross, for she
+would rather suffer with Him all the evils the world could inflict than
+possess without Him all its blessings. And she added that he must never
+again speak to her in such a manner, or she would inform the Abbess;
+whereas, if he kept silence, so would she.
+
+Thereupon this evil shepherd left her, and in order to make himself
+appear quite other than he was, and to again have the pleasure of
+looking upon her he loved, he turned to the Abbess and said--
+
+“I beg, mother, that you will cause all your nuns to sing a _Salve
+Regina_ in honour of that virgin in whom I rest my hope.”
+
+While this was being done, the old fox did nothing but shed tears, not
+of devotion, but of grief at his lack of success. All the nuns, thinking
+that it was for love of the Virgin Mary, held him for a holy man, but
+Sister Marie, who knew his wickedness, prayed in her heart that one
+having so little reverence for virginity might be brought to confusion.
+
+And so this hypocrite departed to St. Martin’s, where the evil fire that
+was in his heart did not cease burning night and day alike, prompting
+him to all manner of devices in order to compass his ends. As he above
+all things feared the Abbess, who was a virtuous woman, he hit upon a
+plan to withdraw her from the convent, and betook himself to Madame de
+Vendôme, who was at that time living at La Fère, where she had founded
+and built a convent of the Benedictine order called Mount Olivet. (5)
+
+     5  This is Mary of Luxemburg, Countess of St. Paul-de-
+     Conversan, Marie and Soissons, who married, first, James of
+     Savoy, and secondly, Francis de Bourbon, Count of Vendôme.
+     The latter, who accompanied Charles VIII. to Italy, was
+     killed at Vercelli in October 1495, when but twenty-five
+     years old. His widow did not marry again, but retired to her
+     château of La Fère near Laon (Aisne), where late in 1518 she
+     founded a convent of Benedictine nuns, which, according to
+     the _Gallia Christiana_, she called the convent of Mount
+     Calvary. This must be the establishment alluded to by Queen
+     Margaret, who by mistake has called it Mount Olivet, i.e.,
+     the Mount of Olives. Madame de Vendôme died at a very
+     advanced age on April 1, 1546.--See Anselme’s _Histoire
+     Généalogique_, vol. i. p. 326.--L.
+
+
+Speaking in the quality of a prince of reformers, he gave her to
+understand that the Abbess of the aforesaid Mount Olivet lacked the
+capacity to govern such a community. The worthy lady begged him to
+give her another that should be worthy of the office, and he, who asked
+nothing better, counselled her to have the Abbess of Gif, as being the
+most capable in France. Madame de Vendôme sent for her forthwith, and
+set her over the convent of Mount Olivet.
+
+As the Prior of St. Martin’s had every monastic vote at his disposal, he
+caused one who was devoted to him to be chosen Abbess of Gif, and this
+being accomplished, he went to Gif to try once more whether he might win
+Sister Marie Heroet by prayers or honied words. Finding that he could
+not succeed, he returned in despair to his priory of St. Martin’s, and
+in order to achieve his purpose, to revenge himself on her who was so
+cruel to him, and further to prevent the affair from becoming known, he
+caused the relics of the aforesaid convent of Gif to be secretly stolen
+at night, and accusing the confessor of the convent, a virtuous and
+very aged man, of having stolen them, he cast him into prison at St.
+Martin’s.
+
+Whilst he held him captive there, he stirred up two witnesses who in
+ignorance signed what the Prior commanded them, which was a statement
+that they had seen the confessor in a garden with Sister Marie, engaged
+in a foul and wicked act; and this the Prior sought to make the old monk
+confess. But he, who knew all the Prior’s misdoings, entreated him to
+bring him before the Chapter, saying that there, in presence of all the
+monks, he would tell the truth of all that he knew. The Prior, fearing
+that the confessor’s justification would be his own condemnation, would
+in no wise grant this request; and, finding him firm of purpose, he
+treated him so ill in prison that some say he brought about his death,
+and others that he forced him to lay aside his robe and betake himself
+out of the kingdom of France. Be that as it may, the confessor was never
+seen again.
+
+The Prior, thinking that he had now a sure hold upon Sister Marie,
+repaired to the convent, where the Abbess, chosen for this purpose,
+gainsaid him in nothing. There he began to exercise his authority as
+visitor, and caused all the nuns to come one after the other into a room
+that he might hear them, as is the fashion at a visitation. When the
+turn of Sister Marie, who had now lost her good aunt, had come, he began
+speaking to her in this wise--
+
+“Sister Marie, you know of what crime you are accused, and that your
+pretence of chastity has availed you nothing, since you are well known
+to be the very contrary of chaste.”
+
+“Bring here my accuser,” replied Sister Marie, with steadfast
+countenance, “and you will see whether in my presence he will abide by
+his evil declaration.”
+
+“No further proof is needed,” he said, “since the confessor has been
+found guilty.”
+
+“I hold him for too honourable a man,” said Sister Marie, “to have
+confessed so great a lie; but even should he have done so, bring him
+here before me, and I will prove the contrary of what he says.”
+
+The Prior, finding that he could in no wise move her, thereupon said--
+
+“I am your father, and seek to save your honour. For this reason I will
+leave the truth of the matter to your own conscience, and will believe
+whatever it bids you say. I ask you and conjure you on pain of mortal
+sin to tell me truly whether you were indeed a virgin when you were
+placed in this house?”
+
+“My father,” she replied, “I was then but five years old, and that age
+must in itself testify to my virginity.”
+
+“Well, my daughter,” said the Prior, “have you not since that time lost
+this flower?”
+
+She swore that she had kept it, and that she had had no hindrance in
+doing so except from himself. Whereto he replied that he could not
+believe it, and that the matter required proof.
+
+“What proof,” she asked, “would you have?”
+
+“The same as from the others,” said the Prior; “for as I am visitor of
+souls, even so am I visitor of bodies also. Your abbesses and prioresses
+have all passed through my hands, and you need have no fear if I visit
+your virginity. Wherefore throw yourself upon the bed, and lift the
+forepart of your garments over your face.”
+
+“You have told me so much of your wicked love for me,” Sister Marie
+replied in wrath, “that I think you seek rather to rob me of my
+virginity than to visit it. So understand that I shall never consent.”
+
+Thereupon he said to her that she was excommunicated for refusing him
+the obedience which Holy Church commanded, and that, if she did not
+consent, he would dishonour her before the whole Chapter by declaring
+the evil that he knew of between herself and the confessor.
+
+But with fearless countenance she replied--
+
+“He that knows the hearts of His servants shall give me as much honour
+in His presence as you can give me shame in the presence of men; and
+since your wickedness goes so far, I would rather it wreaked its cruelty
+upon me than its evil passion; for I know that God is a just judge.”
+
+Then the Prior departed and assembled the whole Chapter, and, causing
+Sister Marie to appear on her knees before him, he said to her with
+wondrous malignity--
+
+“Sister Marie, it grieves me to see that the good counsels I have given
+you have been of no effect, and to find you fallen into such evil ways
+that, contrary to my wont, I must needs lay a penance upon you. I have
+examined your confessor concerning certain crimes with which he is
+charged, and he has confessed to me that he has abused your person in
+the place where the witnesses say that they saw him. And so I command
+that, whereas I had formerly raised you to honourable rank as Mistress
+of the Novices, you shall now be the lowest placed of all, and further,
+shall eat only bread and water on the ground, and in presence of all
+the Sisters, until you have shown sufficient penitence to receive
+forgiveness.”
+
+Sister Marie had been warned by one of her companions, who was
+acquainted with the whole matter, that if she made any reply displeasing
+to the Prior, he would put her _in pace_--that is, in perpetual
+imprisonment--and she therefore submitted to this sentence, raising her
+eyes to heaven, and praying Him who had enabled her to withstand sin,
+to grant her patience for the endurance of tribulation. The Prior of St.
+Martin’s further commanded that for the space of three years she should
+neither speak with her mother or kinsfolk when they came to see her, nor
+send any letters save such as were written in community.
+
+The miscreant then went away and returned no more, and for a long time
+the unhappy maiden continued in the tribulation that I have described.
+But her mother, who loved her best of all her children, was much
+astonished at receiving no tidings from her; and told one of her sons,
+who was a prudent and honourable gentleman, (6) that she thought her
+daughter was dead, and that the nuns were hiding it from her in order
+that they might receive the yearly payment. She, therefore, begged him
+to devise some means of seeing his sister.
+
+     6  It is conjectured by M. Lacroix that this “prudent and
+     honourable gentleman,” Mary Heroet’s brother, was Antoine
+     Heroet or Hérouet, alias La Maisonneuve, who at one time was
+     a valet and secretary to Queen Margaret, and so advanced
+     himself in life that he died Bishop of Digne in 1544. He was
+     the author of _La Parfaite Amie, L’Androgyne, and De n’aimer
+     point sans être aimé_, poems of a semi-metaphysical, semi-
+     amorous character such as might have come from Margaret’s
+     own pen. Whether he was Mary Heroet’s brother or not, it is
+     at least probable that he was her relative.-B. J. and L.
+
+He went forthwith to the convent, where he met with the wonted excuses,
+being told that for three years his sister had not stirred from her bed.
+But this did not satisfy him, and he swore that, if he did not see
+her, he would climb over the walls and force his way into the convent.
+Thereupon, being in great fear, they brought his sister to him at the
+grating, though the Abbess stood so near that she could not tell her
+brother aught that was not heard. But she had prudently set down in
+writing all that I have told you, together with a thousand others of the
+Prior’s devices to deceive her, which ‘twould take too long to relate.
+
+Yet I must not omit to mention that at the time when her aunt was
+Abbess, the Prior, thinking that his ugliness was the cause of her
+refusal, had caused Sister Marie to be tempted by a handsome young monk,
+in the hope that if she yielded to this man through love, he himself
+might afterwards obtain her through fear. The young monk aforesaid spoke
+to her in a garden with gestures too shameful to be mentioned, whereat
+the poor maiden ran to the Abbess, who was talking with the Prior, and
+cried out--
+
+“Mother, they are not monks, but devils, who visit us here!”
+
+Thereupon the Prior, in great fear of discovery, began to laugh, and
+said--
+
+“Assuredly, mother, Sister Marie is right.”
+
+Then, taking Sister Marie by the hand, he said to her in presence of the
+Abbess--
+
+“I had heard that Sister Marie spoke very well, and so constantly that
+she was deemed to be worldly-minded. For this reason I constrained
+myself, contrary to my natural inclination, to speak to her in the way
+that worldly men speak to women--at least in books, for in point
+of experience I am as ignorant as I was on the day when I was born.
+Thinking, however, that only my years and ugliness led her to discourse
+in so virtuous a fashion, I commanded my young monk to speak to her as
+I myself had done, and, as you see, she has virtuously resisted him.
+So highly, therefore, do I think of her prudence and virtue, that
+henceforward she shall rank next after you and shall be Mistress of the
+Novices, to the intent that her excellent disposition may ever increase
+in virtue.”
+
+This act, with many others, was done by this worthy monk during the
+three years that he was in love with the nun. She, however, as I have
+said, gave her brother in writing, through the grating, the whole story
+of her pitiful fortunes; and this her brother brought to her mother, who
+came, overwhelmed with despair, to Paris. Here she found the Queen of
+Navarre, only sister to the King, and showing her the piteous story,
+said--
+
+“Madam, trust no more in these hypocrites. I thought that I had placed
+my daughter within the precincts of Paradise, or on the high road
+thither, whereas I have placed her in the precincts of Hell, and in the
+hands of the vilest devils imaginable. The devils, indeed, do not tempt
+us unless temptation be our pleasure, but these men will take by force
+when they cannot win by love.”
+
+The Queen of Navarre was in great concern, for she trusted wholly in
+the Prior of St. Martin’s, to whose care she had committed her
+sisters-inlaw, the Abbesses of Montivilliers and Caen. (7) On the
+other hand, the enormity of the crime so horrified her and made her
+so desirous of avenging the innocence of this unhappy maiden, that she
+communicated the matter to the King’s Chancellor, who happened also to
+be Legate in France. (8)
+
+     7  The abbess of Montivilliers was Catherine d’Albret,
+     daughter of John d’Albret, King of Navarre and sister of
+     Queen Margaret’s husband, Henry. At first a nun at the abbey
+     of St. Magdalen at Orleans, she became twenty-eighth abbess
+     of Montivilliers near Havre. She was still living in 1536.
+     (_Gallia Christ_., vol. xi. col. 285). The abbess of Caen
+     was Magdalen d’Albret, Catherine’s sister. She took the veil
+     at Fontevrault in 1527, subsequently became thirty-third
+     abbess of the Trinity at Caen, and died in November 1532.
+     (_Gallia Christ_., vol. xi. col. 436).--L.
+
+     8  This is the famous Antony Duprat, Francis I.’s favourite
+     minister. Born in 1463, he became Chancellor in 1515, and
+     his wife dying soon afterwards, he took orders, with the
+     result that he was made Archbishop of Sens and Cardinal. It
+     was in 1530 that he was appointed Papal Legate in France, so
+     that the incidents related in this tale cannot have occurred
+     at an earlier date. Duprat died in July 1535, of grief, it
+     is said, because Francis I. would not support him in his
+     ambitious scheme to secure possession of the papal see, as
+     successor to Clement VII.-B. J. and Ed.
+
+The Prior was sent for, but could find nothing to plead except that he
+was seventy years of age, and addressing himself to the Queen of Navarre
+he begged that, for all the good she had ever wished to do him, and in
+token of all the services he had rendered or had desired to render her,
+she would be pleased to bring these proceedings to a close, and he would
+acknowledge that Sister Marie was a pearl of honour and chastity.
+
+On hearing this, the Queen of Navarre was so astonished that she could
+make no reply, but went off and left him there. The unhappy man then
+withdrew in great confusion to his monastery, where he would suffer
+none to see him, and where he lived only one year afterwards. And Sister
+Marie Heroet, now reputed as highly as she deserved to be, by reason of
+the virtues that God had given her, was withdrawn from the convent of
+Gif, where she had endured so much evil, and was by the King made Abbess
+of the the convent of Giy (9) near Montargis.
+
+     9  Giy-les-Nonains, a little village on the river Ouanne, at
+     two leagues and a half from Montargis, department of the
+     Loiret.--L.
+
+This convent she reformed, and there she lived like one filled with the
+Spirit of God, whom all her life long she ever praised for having of His
+good grace restored to her both honour and repose.
+
+“There, ladies, you have a story which clearly proves the words of the
+Gospel, that ‘God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound
+the things which are mighty, and things which are despised of men hath
+God chosen to bring to nought the glory of those who think themselves
+something but are in truth nothing.’ (10) And remember, ladies, that
+without the grace of God there is no good at all in man, just as there
+is no temptation that with His assistance may not be overcome. This
+is shown by the abasement of the man who was accounted just, and the
+exaltation of her whom men were willing to deem a wicked sinner. Thus
+are verified Our Lord’s words, ‘Whosoever exalteth himself shall be
+abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.’” (11)
+
+     10 I Corinthians i. 27, 28, slightly modified.
+
+     11 St. Luke xiv. 11 and xviii. 14.
+
+“Alas,” said Oisille, “how many virtuous persons did that Prior deceive!
+For I saw people put more trust in him than even in God.”
+
+“_I_ should not have done so,” said Nomerfide, “for such is my horror of
+monks that I could not confess to one. I believe they are worse than
+all other men, and never frequent a house without leaving disgrace or
+dissension behind them.”
+
+“There are good ones among them,” said Oisille, “and they ought not
+to be judged by the bad alone; but the best are those that least often
+visit laymen’s houses and women.”
+
+“You are right,” said Ennasuite. “The less they are seen, the less
+they are known, and therefore the more highly are they esteemed; for
+companionship with them shows what they really are.”
+
+“Let us say no more about them,” said Nomerfide, “and see to whom
+Geburon will give his vote.”
+
+“I shall give it,” said he, “to Madame Oisille, that she may tell us
+something to the credit of Holy Church.” (12)
+
+     12  In lieu of this phrase, the De Thou MS. of the
+     _Heptameron_ gives the following: “To make amends for his
+     fault, if fault there were in laying bare the wretched and
+     abominable life of a wicked Churchman, so as to put others
+     on their guard against the hypocrisy of those resembling
+     him, Geburon, who held Madame Oysille in high esteem, as one
+     should hold a lady of discretion, who was no less reluctant
+     to speak evil than prompt to praise and publish the worth
+     which she knew to exist in others, gave her his vote,
+     begging her to tell something to the honour of our holy
+     religion.”--L.
+
+“We have sworn,” said Oisille, “to speak the truth, and I cannot
+therefore undertake such a task. Moreover, in telling your tale you have
+reminded me of a very pitiful story which I feel constrained to relate,
+seeing that I am not far from the place where, in my own time, the
+thing came to pass. I shall tell it also, ladies, to the end that the
+hypocrisy of those who account themselves more religious than their
+neighbours, may not so beguile your understanding as to turn your faith
+out of the right path, and lead you to hope for salvation from any other
+than Him who has chosen to stand alone in the work of our creation and
+redemption. He is all powerful to save us unto life eternal, and,
+in this temporal life, to comfort us and deliver us from all our
+tribulations. And knowing that Satan often transforms himself into an
+angel of light so that the outward eye, blinded by the semblance of
+holiness and devotion, cannot apprehend that from which we ought to
+flee, I think it well to tell you this tale, which came to pass in our
+own time.”
+
+[Illustration: 095.jpg Tailpiece]
+
+[Illustration: 097a.jpg The Grey Friar deceiving the Gentleman Of Périgord]
+
+[The Grey Friar deceiving the Gentleman Of Périgord]
+
+[Illustration: 097.jpg Page Image]
+
+
+
+
+_TALE XXIII_.
+
+     _The excessive reverence shown by a gentleman of Périgord to
+     the Order of St. Francis, brought about the miserable death
+     of his wife, his little child and himself_. (1)
+
+     1  Etienne introduces this tale into his _Apologie pour
+     Hérodote_, ch. xxi.--B. J.
+
+In the county of Périgord dwelt a gentleman whose devotion to St.
+Francis was such that in his eyes all who wore the saint’s robe must
+needs be as holy as the saint himself. To do honour to the latter,
+he had caused rooms and closets to be furnished in his house for the
+lodgment of the brethren, and he regulated all his affairs by their
+advice, even to the most trifling household matters, believing that he
+must needs pursue the right path if he followed their good counsels.
+
+Now it happened that this gentleman’s wife, who was a beautiful woman
+and as discreet as she was virtuous, was brought to bed of a fine boy,
+whereat the love which her husband bore her was increased twofold.
+One day, in order to entertain his dear, he sent for one of his
+brothers-in-law, and just as the hour for supper was drawing nigh, there
+arrived also a Grey Friar, whose name I will keep secret out of regard
+for his Order. The gentleman was well pleased to see his spiritual
+father, from whom he had no secrets, and after much talk among his wife,
+his brother-in-law and the monk, they sat down to supper. While they
+were at table the gentleman cast his eyes upon his wife, who was indeed
+beautiful and graceful enough to be desired of a husband, and thereupon
+asked this question aloud of the worthy father--
+
+“Is it true, father, that a man commits mortal sin if he lies with his
+wife at the time of her lying-in?” (2)
+
+     2  Meaning the period between her delivery and her
+     churching.--Ed.
+
+The worthy father, whose speech and countenance belied his heart,
+answered with an angry look--
+
+“Undoubtedly, sir, I hold this to be one of the very greatest sins that
+can be committed in the married state. The blessed Virgin Mary would not
+enter the temple until the days of her purification were accomplished,
+although she had no need of these; and if she, in order to obey the law,
+refrained from going to the temple wherein was all her consolation,
+you should of a surety not fail to abstain from such slight pleasure.
+Moreover, physicians say that there is great risk to the offspring so
+begotten.”
+
+When the gentleman heard these words, he was greatly downcast, for he
+had hoped that the good Friar would give him the permission he sought;
+however, he said no more. Meanwhile the worthy father, who had drunk
+more than was needful, looked at the lady, (3) thinking to himself that,
+if he were her husband, he would ask no Friar’s advice before lying
+with her; and just as a fire kindles little by little until at last it
+envelops the whole house, so this monk began to burn with such exceeding
+lust that he suddenly resolved to satisfy a desire which for three years
+he had carried hidden in his heart.
+
+     3  The French word here is _damoiselle_, by which
+     appellation the lady is called throughout the story. Her
+     husband, being a petty nobleman, was a _damoiseau_, whence
+     the name given to his wife. The word _damoiselle_ is
+     frequently employed in the _Heptameron_, and though
+     sometimes it merely signifies an attendant on a lady, the
+     reference is more frequently to a woman of gentle birth,
+     whether she be spinster, wife or widow. Only women of high
+     nobility and of the blood royal were at that time called
+     _Madame_.--Ed.
+
+After the tables had been withdrawn, he took the gentleman by the
+hand, and, leading him to his wife’s bedside, (4) said to him in her
+presence--
+
+“It moves my pity, sir, to see the great love which exists between you
+and this lady, and which, added to your extreme youth, torments you so
+sore. I have therefore determined to tell you a secret of our sacred
+theology which is that, although the rule be made thus strict by reason
+of the abuses committed by indiscreet husbands, it does not suffer
+that such as are of good conscience like you should be balked of all
+intercourse. If then, sir, before others I have stated in all its
+severity the command of the law, I will now reveal to you, who are a
+prudent man, its mildness also. Know then, my son, that there are women
+and women, just as there are men and men. In the first place, my
+lady here must tell us whether, three weeks having gone by since her
+delivery, the flow of blood has quite ceased?”
+
+     4  The supper would appear to have been served in the
+     bedroom, and the tables were taken away as soon as the
+     repast was over. It seems to us very ridiculous when on the
+     modern stage we see a couple of lackeys bring in a table
+     laden with viands and carry it away again as soon as the
+     _dramatis personæ_ have dined or supped. Yet this was the
+     common practice in France in Queen Margaret’s time.--Ed.
+
+The lady replied that it had.
+
+“Then,” said the Friar, “I permit you to lie with her without scruple,
+provided that you are willing to promise me two things.”
+
+The gentleman replied that he was willing.
+
+“The first,” said the good father, “is that you speak to no one
+concerning this matter, but come here in secret. The second is that
+you do not come until two hours after midnight, so that the good lady’s
+digestion be not hindered.”
+
+These things the gentleman promised; and he confirmed his promise with
+so strong an oath that the other, knowing him to be foolish rather than
+false, was quite satisfied.
+
+After much converse the good father withdrew to his chamber, giving them
+good-night and an abundant blessing. But, as he was going, he took the
+gentleman by the hand, and said to him--
+
+“You too, sir, i’ faith must come, nor keep your poor lady longer
+awake.”
+
+Thereupon the gentleman kissed her. “Sweetheart,” said he, and the good
+father heard him plainly, “leave the door of your room open for me.”
+
+And so each withdrew to his own chamber.
+
+On leaving them the Friar gave no heed to sleep or to repose, and, as
+soon as all the noises in the house were still, he went as softly as
+possible straight to the lady’s chamber, at about the hour when he was
+wont to go to matins, and finding the door open in expectation of the
+master’s coming, he went in, cleverly put out the light, and speedily
+got into bed with the lady, without speaking a single word.
+
+The lady, believing him to be her husband, said--
+
+“How is this, love? you have kept but poorly the promise you gave
+last evening to our confessor that you would not come here before two
+o’clock.”
+
+The Friar, who was more eager for action than for contemplation, and
+who, moreover, was fearful of being recognised, gave more thought to
+satisfying the wicked desires that had long poisoned his heart than to
+giving her any reply; whereat the lady wondered greatly. When the friar
+found the husband’s hour drawing near, he rose from the lady’s side and
+returned with all speed to his own chamber.
+
+Then, just as the frenzy of lust had robbed him of sleep, so now the
+fear that always follows upon wickedness would not suffer him to rest.
+Accordingly, he went to the porter of the house and said to him--
+
+“Friend, your master has charged me to go without delay and offer up
+prayers for him at our convent, where he is accustomed to perform his
+devotions. Wherefore, I pray you, give me my horse and open the door
+without letting any one be the wiser; for the mission is both pressing
+and secret.”
+
+The porter knew that obedience to the Friar was service acceptable to
+his master, and so he opened the door secretly and let him out.
+
+Just at that time the gentleman awoke. Finding that it was close on the
+hour which the good father had appointed him for visiting his wife, he
+got up in his bedgown and repaired swiftly to that bed whither by God’s
+ordinance, and without need of the license of man, it was lawful for him
+to go.
+
+When his wife heard him speaking beside her, she was greatly astonished,
+and, not knowing what had occurred, said to him--
+
+“Nay, sir, is it possible that, after your promise to the good father to
+be heedful of your own health and of mine, you not only come before the
+hour appointed, but even return a second time? Think on it, sir, I pray
+you.”
+
+On hearing this, the gentleman was so much disconcerted that he could
+not conceal it, and said to her--
+
+“What do these words mean? I know of a truth that I have not lain with
+you for three weeks, and yet you rebuke me for coming too often. If you
+continue to talk in this way, you will make me think that my company is
+irksome to you, and will drive me, contrary to my wont and will, to seek
+elsewhere that pleasure which, by the law of God, I should have with
+you.”
+
+The lady thought that he was jesting, and replied--
+
+“I pray you, sir, deceive not yourself in seeking to deceive me; for
+although you said nothing when you came, I knew very well that you were
+here.”
+
+Then the gentleman saw that they had both been deceived, and solemnly
+vowed to her that he had not been with her before; whereat the lady,
+weeping in dire distress, besought him to find out with all despatch
+who it could have been, seeing that besides themselves only his
+brother-in-law and the Friar slept in the house.
+
+Impelled by suspicion of the Friar, the gentleman forthwith went in
+all haste to the room where he had been lodged, and found it empty;
+whereupon, to make yet more certain whether he had fled, he sent for the
+man who kept the door, and asked him whether he knew what had become of
+the Friar. And the man told him the whole truth.
+
+The gentleman, being now convinced of the Friar’s wickedness, returned
+to his wife’s room, and said to her--
+
+“Of a certainty, sweetheart, the man who lay with you and did such fine
+things was our Father Confessor.”
+
+The lady, who all her life long had held her honour dear, was
+overwhelmed with despair, and laying aside all humanity and womanly
+nature, besought her husband on her knees to avenge this foul wrong;
+whereupon the gentleman immediately mounted his horse and went in
+pursuit of the Friar.
+
+The lady remained all alone in her bed, with no counsel or comfort near
+her but her little newborn child. She reflected upon the strange and
+horrible adventure that had befallen her, and, without making any excuse
+for her ignorance, deemed herself guilty as well as the unhappiest woman
+in the world. She had never learned aught of the Friars, save to have
+confidence in good works, and seek atonement for sins by austerity of
+life, fasting and discipline; she was wholly ignorant of the pardon
+granted by our good God through the merits of His Son, the remission of
+sins by His blood, the reconciliation of the Father with us through His
+death, and the life given to sinners by His sole goodness and mercy; and
+so, assailed by despair based on the enormity and magnitude of her sin,
+the love of her husband and the honour of her house, she thought that
+death would be far happier than such a life as hers. And, overcome by
+sorrow, she fell into such despair that she was not only turned aside
+from the hope which every Christian should have in God, but she forgot
+her own nature, and was wholly bereft of common sense.
+
+Then, overpowered by grief, and driven by despair from all knowledge of
+God and herself, this frenzied, frantic woman took a cord from the bed
+and strangled herself with her own hands.
+
+And worse even than this, amidst the agony of this cruel death, whilst
+her body was struggling against it, she set her foot upon the face
+of her little child, whose innocence did not avail to save it from
+following in death its sorrowful and suffering mother. While dying,
+however, the infant uttered so piercing a cry that a woman who slept
+in the room rose in great haste and lit the candle. Then, seeing her
+mistress hanging strangled by the bed-cord, and the child stifled and
+dead under her feet, she ran in great affright to the apartment of her
+mistress’s brother, and brought him to see the pitiful sight.
+
+The brother, after giving way to such grief as was natural and fitting
+in one who loved his sister with his whole heart, asked the serving-woman
+who it was that had committed this terrible crime.
+
+She replied that she did not know; but that no one had entered the room
+excepting her master, and he had but lately left it. The brother then
+went to the gentleman’s room, and not finding him there, felt sure that
+he had done the deed. So, mounting his horse without further inquiry,
+he hastened in pursuit and met with him on the road as he was returning
+disconsolate at not having been able to overtake the Grey Friar.
+
+As soon as the lady’s brother saw his brother-in-law, he cried out to
+him--
+
+“Villain and coward, defend yourself, for I trust that God will by this
+sword avenge me on you this day.”
+
+The gentleman would have expostulated, but his brother-in-law’s sword
+was pressing so close upon him that he found it of more importance to
+defend himself than to inquire the reason of the quarrel; whereupon
+each dealt the other so many wounds that they were at last compelled by
+weariness and loss of blood to sit down on the ground face to face.
+
+And while they were recovering breath, the gentleman asked--
+
+“What cause, brother, has turned our deep and unbroken friendship to
+such cruel strife as this?”
+
+“Nay,” replied the brother-in-law, “what cause has moved you to slay
+my sister, the most excellent woman that ever lived, and this in so
+cowardly a fashion that under pretence of sleeping with her you have
+hanged and strangled her with the bed-cord?”
+
+On hearing these words the gentleman, more dead than alive, came to his
+brother, and putting his arms around him, said--
+
+“Is it possible that you have found your sister in the state you say?”
+
+The brother-in-law assured him that it was indeed so.
+
+“I pray you, brother,” the gentleman thereupon replied, “hearken to the
+reason why I left the house.”
+
+Forthwith he told him all about the wicked Grey Friar, whereat his
+brother-in-law was greatly astonished, and still more grieved that he
+should have unjustly attacked him.
+
+Entreating pardon, he said to him--
+
+“I have wronged you; forgive me.”
+
+“If you were ever wronged by me,” replied the gentleman, “I have
+been well punished, for I am so sorely wounded that I cannot hope to
+recover.”
+
+Then the brother-in-law put him on horseback again as well as he might,
+and brought him back to the house, where on the morrow he died. And the
+brother-in-law confessed in presence of all the gentleman’s relatives
+that he had been the cause of his death.
+
+However, for the satisfaction of justice, he was advised to go and
+solicit pardon from King Francis, first of the name; and accordingly,
+after giving honourable burial to husband, wife and child, he departed
+on Good Friday to the Court in order to sue there for pardon, which
+he obtained through the good offices of Master Francis Olivier, then
+Chancellor of Alençon, afterwards chosen by the King, for his merits, to
+be Chancellor of France. (5)
+
+     5  M. de Montaiglon has vainly searched the French Archives
+     for the letters of remission granted to the gentleman. There
+     is no mention of them in the registers of the Trésor des
+     Chartes. Francis Olivier, alluded to above, was one of the
+     most famous magistrates of the sixteenth century. Son of
+     James Olivier, First President of the Parliament of Paris
+     and Bishop of Angers, he was born in 1493 and became
+     successively advocate, member of the Grand Council,
+     ambassador, Chancellor of Alençon, President of the Paris
+     Parliament, Keeper of the Seals and Chancellor of France.
+     This latter dignity was conferred upon him through Queen
+     Margaret’s influence in April 1545. The above tale must have
+     been written subsequent to that date. Olivier’s talents were
+     still held in high esteem under both Henry II. and Francis
+     II.; he died in 1590, aged 67.--(Blanchard’s _Éloges de tous
+     les Présidents du Parlement, &c_., Paris, 1645, in-fol. p.
+     185.)
+
+     Ste. Marthe, in his funeral oration on Queen Margaret,
+     refers to Olivier in the following pompous strain: “When
+     Brinon died Chancellor of this duchy of Alençon, Francis
+     Olivier was set in his place, and so greatly adorned this
+     dignity by his admirable virtues, and so increased the
+     grandeur of the office of Chancellor, that, like one of
+     exceeding merit on whom Divine Providence, disposing of the
+     affairs of France, has conferred a more exalted office, he
+     is today raised to the highest degree of honour, and, even
+     as Atlas upholds the Heavens upon his shoulders, so he by
+     his prudence doth uphold the entire Gallic commonwealth.”--
+     M. L. and Ed.
+
+“I am of opinion, ladies, that after hearing this true story there is
+none among you but will think twice before lodging such knaves in her
+house, and will be persuaded that hidden poison is always the most
+dangerous.”
+
+“Remember,” said Hircan, “that the husband was a great fool to bring
+such a gallant to sup with his fair and virtuous wife.”
+
+“I have known the time,” said Geburon, “when in our part of the country
+there was not a house but had a room set apart for the good fathers; but
+now they are known so well that they are dreaded more than bandits.”
+
+“It seems to me,” said Parlamente, “that when a woman is in bed
+she should never allow a priest to enter the room, unless it be to
+administer to her the sacraments of the Church. For my own part, when I
+send for them, I may indeed be deemed at the point of death.”
+
+“If every one were as strict as you are,” said Ennasuite, “the poor
+priests would be worse than excommunicated, in being wholly shut off
+from the sight of women.”
+
+“Have no such fear on their account,” said Saffredent; “they will never
+want for women.”
+
+“Why,” said Simontault, “‘tis the very men that have united us to our
+wives by the marriage tie that wickedly seek to loose it and bring about
+the breaking of the oath which they have themselves laid upon us.”
+
+“It is a great pity,” said Oisille, “that those who administer the
+sacraments should thus trifle with them. They ought to be burned alive.”
+
+“You would do better to honour rather than blame them,” said Saffredent,
+“and to flatter rather than revile them, for they are men who have it in
+their power to burn and dishonour others. Wherefore ‘_sinite eos_,’ and
+let us see to whom Oisille will give her vote.”
+
+“I give it,” said she, “to Dagoucin, for he has become so thoughtful
+that I think he must have made ready to tell us something good.”
+
+“Since I cannot and dare not reply as I would,” said Dagoucin, “I will
+at least tell of a man to whom similar cruelty at first brought hurt but
+afterwards profit. Although Love accounts himself so strong and powerful
+that he will go naked, and finds it irksome, nay intolerable, to
+go cloaked, nevertheless, ladies, it often happens that those who,
+following his counsel, are over-quick in declaring themselves, find
+themselves the worse for it. Such was the experience of a Castilian
+gentleman, whose story you shall now hear.”
+
+[Illustration: 112.jpg Tailpiece]
+
+[Illustration: 113a.jpg Elisor showing the Queen her own Image]
+
+[Elisor showing the Queen her own Image]
+
+[Illustration: 113.jpg Page Image]
+
+
+
+
+_TALE XXIV_.
+
+     _Elisor, having unwisely ventured to discover his love to
+     the Queen of Castile, was by her put to the test in so cruel
+     a fashion that he suffered sorely, yet did he reap advantage
+     therefrom_.
+
+In the household of the King and Queen of Castile, (1) whose names
+shall not be mentioned, there was a gentleman of such perfection in all
+qualities of mind and body, that his like could not be found in all the
+Spains. All wondered at his merits, but still more at the strangeness of
+his temper, for he had never been known to love or have connection with
+any lady. There were very many at Court that might have set his icy
+nature afire, but there was not one among them whose charms had power to
+attract Elisor; for so this gentleman was called.
+
+     1  M. Lacroix conjectures that the sovereigns referred to
+     are Ferdinand and Isabella, but this appears to us a
+     baseless supposition. The conduct of the Queen in the story
+     is in no wise in keeping with what we know of Isabella’s
+     character. Queen Margaret doubtless heard this tale during
+     her sojourn in Spain in 1525. We have consulted many Spanish
+     works, and notably collections of the old ballads, in the
+     hope of being able to throw some light on the incidents
+     related, but have been no more successful than previous
+     commentators.--Ed.
+
+The Queen, who was a virtuous woman but by no means free from that
+flame which proves all the fiercer the less it is perceived, was much
+astonished to find that this gentleman loved none of her ladies; and one
+day she asked him whether it were possible that he could indeed love as
+little as he seemed to do.
+
+He replied that if she could look upon his heart as she did his face,
+she would not ask him such a question. Desiring to know his meaning, she
+pressed him so closely that he confessed he loved a lady whom he deemed
+the most virtuous in all Christendom. The Queen did all that she could
+by entreaties and commands to find out who the lady might be, but in
+vain; whereupon, feigning great wrath, she vowed that she would never
+speak to him any more if he did not tell her the name of the lady he so
+dearly loved. At this he was greatly disturbed, and was constrained to
+say that he would rather die, if need were, than name her.
+
+Finding, however, that he would lose the Queen’s presence and favour in
+default of telling her a thing in itself so honourable that it ought not
+to be taken in ill part by any one, he said to her in great fear--
+
+“I cannot and dare not tell you, madam, but the first time you go
+hunting I will show her to you, and I feel sure that you will deem her
+the fairest and most perfect lady in the world.”
+
+This reply caused the Queen to go hunting sooner than she would
+otherwise have done.
+
+Elisor, having notice of this, made ready to attend her as was his wont,
+and caused a large steel mirror after the fashion of a corselet to be
+made for him, which he placed upon his breast and covered with a cloak
+of black frieze, bordered with purflew and gold braid. He was mounted
+on a coal-black steed, well caparisoned with everything needful to the
+equipment of a horse, and such part of this as was metal was wholly of
+gold, wrought with black enamel in the Moorish style. (2)
+
+     2  Damascened.--Ed.
+
+His hat was of black silk, and to it was fastened a rich medal on which
+by way of device was engraved the god of Love subdued by Force, the
+whole enriched with precious stones. His sword and dagger were no
+less handsomely and choicely ordered. In a word, he was most bravely
+equipped, while so skilled was his horsemanship that all who saw him
+left the pleasures of the chase to watch the leaps and paces of his
+steed.
+
+After bringing the Queen in this fashion to the place where the nets
+were spread, he dismounted from his noble horse and went to assist the
+Queen to alight from her palfrey. And whilst she was stretching out her
+hands to him, he threw his cloak back from before his breast, and taking
+her in his arms, showed her his corselet-mirror, saying--
+
+“I pray you, madam, look here.”
+
+Then, without waiting for her reply, he set her down gently upon the
+ground.
+
+When the hunt was over, the Queen returned to the castle without
+speaking to Elisor, but after supper she called him to her and told him
+that he was the greatest liar she had ever seen; for he had promised to
+show her at the hunt the lady whom he loved the best, but had not done
+so, for which reason she was resolved to hold him in esteem no more.
+
+Elisor, fearing that the Queen had not understood the words he had
+spoken to her, answered that he had indeed obeyed her, for he had shown
+her not merely the woman but the thing also, that he loved best in all
+the world.
+
+Pretending that she did not understand him, she replied that he had not,
+to her knowledge, shown her a single one among her ladies.
+
+“That is true, madam,” said Elisor, “but what did I show you when I
+helped you off your horse?”
+
+“Nothing,” said the Queen, “except a mirror on your breast.”
+
+“And what did you see in the mirror?” said Elisor.
+
+“I saw nothing but myself,” replied the Queen.
+
+“Then, madam,” said Elisor, “I have kept faith with you and obeyed your
+command. There is not, nor ever will there be, another image in my heart
+save that which you saw upon my breast. Her alone will I love, reverence
+and worship, not as a woman merely, but as my very God on earth, in
+whose hands I place my life or my death, entreating her withal that
+the deep and perfect affection, which was my life whilst it remained
+concealed, may not prove my death now that it is discovered. And though
+I be not worthy that you should look on me or accept me for your lover,
+at least suffer me to live, as hitherto, in the happy consciousness that
+my heart has chosen so perfect and so worthy an object for its love,
+wherefrom I can have no other satisfaction than the knowledge that my
+love is deep and perfect, seeing that I must be content to love without
+hope of return. And if, now knowing this great love of mine, you should
+not be pleased to favour me more than heretofore, at least do not
+deprive me of life, which for me consists wholly in the delight of
+seeing you as usual. I now have from you nought but what my utmost need
+requires, and should I have less, you will have a servant the less, for
+you will lose the best and most devoted that you have ever had or could
+ever look to have.”
+
+The Queen--whether to show herself other than she really was, or to
+thoroughly try the love he bore her, or because she loved another whom
+she would not cast off, or because she wished to hold him in reserve to
+put him in the place of her actual lover should the latter give her any
+offence--said to him, with a countenance that showed neither anger nor
+content--“Elisor, I will not feign ignorance of the potency of love, and
+say aught to you concerning your foolishness in aiming at so high and
+hard a thing as the love of me; for I know that man’s heart is so little
+under his own control, that he cannot love or hate at will. But, since
+you have concealed your feelings so well, I would fain know how long it
+is since you first entertained them.”
+
+Elisor, gazing at her beauteous face and hearing her thus inquire
+concerning his sickness, hoped that she might be willing to afford him
+a remedy. But at the same time, observing the grave and staid expression
+of her countenance, he became afraid, feeling himself to be in the
+presence of a judge whose sentence, he suspected, would be against him.
+Nevertheless he swore to her that this love had taken root in his heart
+in the days of his earliest youth, though it was only during the past
+seven years that it had caused him pain,--and yet, in truth, not pain,
+but so pleasing a sickness that its cure would be his death.
+
+“Since you have displayed such lengthened steadfastness,” said the
+Queen, “I must not show more haste in believing you, than you have shown
+in telling me of your affection. If, therefore, it be as you say, I will
+so test your sincerity that I shall never afterwards be able to doubt
+it; and having proved your pain, I will hold you to be towards me such
+as you yourself swear you are; and on my knowing you to be what you say,
+you, for your part, shall find me to be what you desire.”
+
+Elisor begged her to test him in any way she pleased, there being
+nothing, he said, so difficult that it would not appear very easy
+to him, if he might have the honour of proving his love to her; and
+accordingly he begged her once more to command him as to what she would
+to have him do.
+
+“Elisor,” she replied, “if you love me as much as you say, I am sure
+that you will deem nothing hard of accomplishment if only it may bring
+you my favour. I therefore command you, by your desire of winning it and
+your fear of losing it, to depart hence to-morrow morning without seeing
+me again, and to repair to some place where, until this day seven years,
+you shall hear nothing of me nor I anything of you. You, who have had
+seven years’ experience of this love, know that you do indeed love me;
+and when I have had a like experience, I too shall know and believe what
+your words cannot now make me either believe or understand.”
+
+When Elisor heard this cruel command, he on the one hand suspected that
+she desired to remove him from her presence, yet, on the other, he hoped
+that this proof would plead more eloquently for him than any words he
+could utter. He therefore submitted to her command, and said--
+
+“For seven years I have lived hopeless, bearing in my breast a hidden
+flame; now, however, that this is known to you, I shall spend these
+other seven years in patience and trust. But, madam, while I obey your
+command, which robs me of all the happiness that I have heretofore had
+in the world, what hope will you give me that at the end of the seven
+years you will accept me as your faithful and devoted lover?”
+
+“Here is a ring,” said the Queen, drawing one from her finger, “which we
+will cut in two. I will keep one half, and you shall keep the other, (3)
+so that I may know you by this token, if the lapse of time should cause
+me to forget your face.”
+
+     3  This was a common practice at the time between lovers, and
+     even between husbands and wives. There is the familiar but
+     doubtful story of Frances de Foix, Countess of
+     Châteaubriant, who became Francis I.’s mistress, and who is
+     said to have divided a ring in this manner with her husband,
+     it being understood between them that she was not to repair
+     to Court, or even leave her residence in Brittany, unless
+     her husband sent her as a token the half of the ring which
+     he had kept. Francis I., we are told, heard of this, and
+     causing a ring of the same pattern to be made, he sent half
+     of it to the Countess, who thereupon came to Court,
+     imagining that it was her husband who summoned her. Whether
+     the story be true or not, it should be mentioned that the
+     sole authority for it is Varillas, whose errors and
+     inventions are innumerable.--Ed.
+
+Elisor took the ring and broke it in two, giving one half of it to the
+Queen, and keeping the other himself. Then, more corpse-like than those
+who have given up the ghost, he took his leave, and went to his
+lodging to give orders for his departure. In doing this he sent all his
+attendants to his house, and departed alone with one servingman to
+so solitary a spot that none of his friends or kinsfolk could obtain
+tidings of him during the seven years.
+
+Of the life that he led during this time, and the grief that he endured
+through this banishment, nothing is recorded, but lovers cannot be
+ignorant of their nature. At the end of the seven years, just as the
+Queen was one day going to mass, a hermit with a long beard came to her,
+kissed her hand, and presented her with a petition. This she did not
+look at immediately, although it was her custom to receive in her own
+hands all the petitions that were presented to her, no matter how poor
+the petitioners might be.
+
+When mass was half over, however, she opened the petition, and found in
+it the half-ring which she had given to Elisor. At this she was not
+less glad than astonished, and before reading the contents she instantly
+commanded her almoner to bring her the tall hermit who had presented her
+the petition.
+
+The almoner looked for him everywhere, but could obtain no tidings of
+him, except that some one said that he had seen him mount a horse, but
+knew not what road he had taken.
+
+Whilst she was waiting for the almoner’s return, the Queen read the
+petition, which she found to be an epistle in verse, written in the best
+style imaginable; and were it not that I would have you acquainted
+with it, I should never have dared to translate it; for you must know,
+ladies, that, for grace and expression, the Castilian is beyond compare
+the tongue which is best fitted to set forth the passion of love. The
+matter of the letter was as follows:--
+
+     “Time, by his puissance stern, his sov’reign might,
+     Hath made me learn love’s character aright;
+     And, bringing with him, in his gloomy train,
+     The speechless eloquence of bitter pain,
+     Hath caused the unbelieving one to know
+     What words of love were impotent to show.
+     Time made my heart, aforetime, meekly bow
+     Unto the mastery of love; but now
+     Time hath, at last, revealed love to be
+     Far other than it once appeared to me;
+     And Time the frail foundation hath made clear
+     Whereon I purposed, once, my love to rear--
+     To wit, your beauty, which but served as sheath
+     To hide the cruelty that lurked beneath.
+
+     Yea, Time hath shown me beauty’s nothingness
+     And taught me e’en your cruelty to bless,
+     That cruelty which banished me the place
+     Where I, at least, had gazed upon your face.
+     And when no more I saw your beauty beam
+     The harsher yet your cruelty did seem;
+     Yet in obedience failed I not, and this
+     Hath been the means of compassing my bliss.
+     For Time, love’s parent, pitiful at last,
+     Upon my woe commiserate eyes hath cast,
+     And done to me so excellent a turn,
+     That, if I now come back, think not I yearn
+     To sigh and dally, and renew the spell--
+     I only come to bid a last farewell.
+
+     Time, the revealer, hath not failed to prove
+     How base and sorry is all human love,
+     So that through Time, I now that time regret
+     When all my fancy upon love was set,
+     For then Time wasted was, lost in love’s chains,
+     Sorrow whereof is all that now remains.
+     And Time in teaching me _that_ love’s deceit
+     Hath brought another, far more pure and sweet,
+     To dwell within me, in the lonely spot
+     Where tears and silence long have been my lot.
+     Time, to my heart, that higher love hath brought
+     With which the lower can no more be sought;
+     Time hath the latter into exile driven,
+     And, to the first, myself hath wholly given,
+     And consecrated to its service true
+     The heart and hand I erst had given to you.
+
+     When I was yours you nothing showed of grace,
+     And I that nothing loved, for your fair face;
+     Then, death for loyalty, you sought to give,
+     And I, in fleeing it, have learnt to live.
+     For, by the tender love that Time hath brought
+     The other vanquished is, and turned to nought;
+     Once did it lure and lull me, but I swear
+     It now hath wholly vanished in thin air.
+     And so your love and you I gladly leave,
+     And, needing neither, will forbear to grieve;
+     The other perfect, lasting love is mine,
+     To it I turn, nor for the lost one pine.
+
+     My leave I take of cruelty and pain,
+     Of hatred, bitter torment, cold disdain,
+     And those hot flames which fill you, and which fire
+     Him, that beholds your beauty, with desire.
+     Nor can I better part from ev’ry throe,
+     From ev’ry evil hap, and stress of woe,
+     And the fierce passion of love’s awful hell,
+     Than by this single utterance: _Farewell_.
+     Learn therefore, that whate’er may be in store,
+     Each other’s faces we shall see no more.”
+
+This letter was not read without many tears and much astonishment on the
+Queen’s part, together with regret surpassing belief; for the loss of
+a lover filled with so perfect a love must needs have been keenly felt;
+and not all her treasures, nor even her kingdom itself, could hinder the
+Queen from being the poorest and most wretched lady in the world, seeing
+that she had lost that which all the world’s wealth could not replace.
+And having heard mass to the end and returned to her apartment, she
+there made such mourning as her cruelty had provoked. And there was not
+a mountain, a rock or a forest to which she did not send in quest of the
+hermit; but He who had withdrawn him out of her hands preserved him from
+falling into them again, and took him away to Paradise before she could
+gain tidings of him in this world.
+
+“This instance shows that a lover should never acknowledge that which
+may do him harm and in no wise help him. And still less, ladies, should
+you in your incredulity demand so hard a test, lest in getting your
+proof you lose your lover.”
+
+“Truly, Dagoucin,” said Geburon, “I had all my life long deemed the lady
+of your story to be the most virtuous in the world, but now I hold her
+for the most cruel woman that ever lived.”
+
+“Nevertheless,” said Parlamente, “it seems to me that she did him no
+wrong in wishing to try him for seven years, in order to see whether
+he did love her as much as he said. Men are so wont to speak falsely
+in these matters that before trusting them, if indeed one trust them at
+all, one cannot put them to the proof too long.”
+
+“The ladies of our day,” said Hircan, “are far wiser than those of past
+times, for they are as sure of a lover after a seven days’ trial as the
+others were after seven years.”
+
+“Yet there are those in this company,” said Longarine, “who have been
+loved with all earnestness for seven years and more, and albeit have not
+been won.”
+
+“‘Fore God,” said Simontault, “you speak the truth; but such as they
+ought to be ranked with the ladies of former times, for they cannot be
+recognised as belonging to the present.”
+
+“After all,” said Oisille, “the gentleman was much beholden to the lady,
+for it was owing to her that he devoted his heart wholly to God.”
+
+“It was very fortunate for him,” said Saffredent, “that he found God
+upon the way, for, considering the grief he was in, I am surprised that
+he did not give himself to the devil.”
+
+“And did you give yourself to such a master,” asked Ennasuite, “when
+your lady ill used you?”
+
+“Yes, thousands of times,” said Saffredent, “but the devil, seeing that
+all the torments of hell could bring me no more suffering than those
+which she caused me to endure, never condescended to take me. He knew
+full well that no devil is so bad as a lady who is deeply loved and will
+make no return.”
+
+“If I were you,” said Parlamente to Saffredent, “and held such an
+opinion as that, I would never make love to woman.”
+
+“My affection,” said Saffredent, “and my folly are always so great, that
+where I cannot command I am well content to serve. All the ill-will of
+the ladies cannot subdue the love that I bear them. But, I pray you,
+tell me on your conscience, do you praise this lady for such great
+harshness?”
+
+“Ay,” said Oisille, “I do, for I think that she wished neither to
+receive love nor to bestow it.”
+
+“If such was her mind,” said Simontault, “why did she hold out to him
+the hope of being loved after the seven years were past?”
+
+“I am of your opinion,” said Longarine, “for ladies who are unwilling
+to love give no occasion for the continuance of the love that is offered
+them.”
+
+“Perhaps,” said Nomerfide, “she loved some one else less worthy than
+that honourable gentleman, and so forsook the better for the worse.”
+
+“‘T faith,” said Saffredent, “I think that she meant to keep him in
+readiness and take him whenever she might leave the other whom for the
+time she loved the best.”
+
+“I can see,” said Oisille, (4) “that the more we talk in this way, the
+more those who would not be harshly treated will do their utmost to
+speak ill of us. Wherefore, Dagoucin, I pray you give some lady your
+vote.”
+
+     4  Prior to this sentence the following passage occurs in
+     the De Thou MS.: “When Madame Oysille saw that the men,
+     under pretence of censuring the Queen of Castille for
+     conduct which certainly cannot be praised either in her or
+     in any other, continued saying so much evil of women, that
+     the most discreet and virtuous were spared no more than the
+     most foolish and wanton, she could endure it no longer, but
+     spoke and said,” &c.--L.
+
+“I give it,” he said, “to Longarine, for I feel sure that she will
+tell us no melancholy story, and that she will speak the truth without
+sparing man or woman.”
+
+“Since you deem me so truthful,” said Longarine, “I will be so bold as
+to relate an adventure that befel a very great Prince, who surpasses
+in worth all others of his time. Lying and dissimulation are, indeed,
+things not to be employed save in cases of extreme necessity; they are
+foul and infamous vices, more especially in Princes and great lords,
+on whose lips and features truth sits more becomingly than on those of
+other men. But no Prince in the world however great he be, even though
+he have all the honours and wealth he may desire, can escape being
+subject to the empire and tyranny of Love; indeed it would seem that
+the nobler and more high-minded the Prince, the more does Love strive to
+bring him under his mighty hand. For this glorious God sets no store
+by common things; his majesty rejoices solely in the daily working of
+miracles, such as weakening the strong, strengthening the weak, giving
+knowledge to the simple, taking intelligence from the most learned,
+favouring the passions, and overthrowing the reason. In such
+transformations as these does the Deity of Love delight. Now since
+Princes are not exempt from love’s thraldom, so also are they not free
+from its necessities, and must therefore perforce be permitted to employ
+falsehood, hypocrisy and deceit, which, according to the teaching of
+Master Jehan de Mehun, (5) are the means to be employed for vanquishing
+our enemies. And, since such conduct is praiseworthy on the part of a
+Prince in such a case as this (though in any other it were deserving
+of blame), I will relate to you the devices to which a young Prince
+resorted, and by which he contrived to deceive those who are wont to
+deceive the whole world.”
+
+     5  John dc Melun, who continued the _Roman de la Rose_ begun
+     by Lorris.--D.
+
+[Illustration: 130.jpg Tailpiece]
+
+[Illustration: 131a.jpg The Advocate’s Wife attending on the Prince]
+
+[The Advocate’s Wife attending on the Prince]
+
+[Illustration: 131.jpg Page Image]
+
+
+
+
+_TALE XXV_.
+
+     _A young Prince, whilst pretending to visit his lawyer and
+     talk with him of his affairs, conversed so freely with the
+     lawyer’s wife, that he obtained from her what he desired_.
+
+In the city of Paris there dwelt an advocate who was more highly thought
+of than any other of his condition, (1) and who, being sought after by
+every one on account of his excellent parts, had become the richest of
+all those who wore the gown.
+
+     1  In five of the oldest MSS. of the _Heptameron_, and in
+     the original editions of 1558, 1559, and 1560, the words are
+     “than nine others of his condition.” The explanation of this
+     is, that the advocate’s name, as ascertained by Baron Jerome
+     Pichon, was Disome, which, written Dix-hommes, would
+     literally mean “ten men.” Baron Pichon has largely
+     elucidated this story, and the essential points of his
+     notice, contributed to the _Mélanges de la Société des
+     Bibliophiles Français_, will be found summarized in the
+     Appendix to this volume, B.--Ed.
+
+Now, although he had had no children by his first wife, he was in hopes
+of having some by a second; for, although his body was no longer hearty,
+his heart and hopes were as much alive as ever. Accordingly, he made
+choice of one of the fairest maidens in the city; she was between
+eighteen and nineteen years of age, very handsome both in features and
+complexion, and still more handsome in figure. He loved her and treated
+her as well as could be; but he had no children by her any more than by
+his first wife, and this at last made her unhappy. And as youth cannot
+endure grief, she sought diversion away from home, and betook herself
+to dances and feasts; yet she did this in so seemly a fashion that her
+husband could not take it ill, for she was always in the company of
+women in whom he had trust.
+
+One day, when she was at a wedding, there was also present a Prince of
+very high degree, who, when telling me the story, forbade me to discover
+his name. I may, however, tell you that he was the handsomest and most
+graceful Prince that has ever been or, in my opinion, ever will be in
+this realm. (2)
+
+     2  Francis L, prior to his accession.--Ed.
+
+The Prince, seeing this fair and youthful lady whose eyes and
+countenance invited him to love her, came and spoke to her with such
+eloquence and grace that she was well pleased with his discourse.
+
+Nor did she seek to hide from him that she had long had in her heart the
+love for which he prayed, but entreated that he would spare all pains to
+persuade her to a thing to which love, at first sight, had brought her
+to consent. Having, by the artlessness of love, so promptly gained what
+was well worth the pains of being won by time, the young Prince thanked
+God for His favour, and forthwith contrived matters so well that they
+agreed together in devising a means for seeing each other in private.
+
+The young Prince failed not to appear at the time and place that had
+been agreed upon, and, that he might not injure his lady’s honour, he
+went in disguise. On account, however, of the evil fellows (3) who were
+wont to prowl at night through the city, and to whom he cared not
+to make himself known, he took with him certain gentlemen in whom he
+trusted.
+
+     3  The French expression here is _mauvais garsons_, a name
+     generally given to foot-pads at that time, but applied more
+     particularly to a large band of brigands who, in the
+     confusion prevailing during Francis I.’s captivity in Spain,
+     began to infest the woods and forests around Paris, whence
+     at night-time they descended upon the city. Several
+     engagements were fought between them and the troops of the
+     Queen-Regent, and although their leader, called King
+     Guillot, was captured and hanged, the remnants of the band
+     continued their depredations for several years.--B. J.
+
+And on entering the street in which the lady lived, he parted from them,
+saying--
+
+“If you hear no noise within a quarter of an hour, go home again, and
+come back here for me at about three or four o’clock.”
+
+They did as they were commanded, and, hearing no noise, withdrew.
+
+The young Prince went straight to his advocate’s house, where he found
+the door open as had been promised him. But as he was ascending the
+staircase he met the husband, carrying a candle in his hand, and was
+perceived by him before he was aware. However Love, who provides wit and
+boldness to contend with the difficulties that he creates, prompted the
+young Prince to go straight up to him and say--
+
+“Master advocate, you know the trust which I and all belonging to my
+house have ever put in you, and how I reckon you among my best and
+truest servants. I have now thought it well to visit you here in
+private, both to commend my affairs to you, and also to beg you to give
+me something to drink, for I am in great thirst. And, I pray you, tell
+none that I have come here, for from this place I must go to another
+where I would not be known.”
+
+The worthy advocate was well pleased at the honour which the Prince paid
+him in coming thus privately to his house, and, leading him to his
+own room, he bade his wife prepare a collation of the best fruits and
+confections that she had.
+
+Although the garments she wore, a kerchief and mantle, made her appear
+more beautiful than ever, the young Prince affected not to look at her
+or notice her, but spoke unceasingly to her husband about his affairs,
+as to one who had long had them in his hands. And, whilst the lady was
+kneeling with the confections before the Prince, and her husband was
+gone to the sideboard in order to serve him with drink, she told him
+that on leaving the room he must not fail to enter a closet which he
+would find on the right hand, and whither she would very soon come to
+see him.
+
+As soon as he had drunk, he thanked the advocate, who was all eagerness
+to attend him; but the Prince assured him that in the place whither he
+was going he had no need of attendance, and thereupon turning to the
+wife, he said--
+
+“Moreover, I will not do so ill as to deprive you of your excellent
+husband, who is also an old servant of mine. Well may you render thanks
+to God since you are so fortunate as to have such a husband, well may
+you render him service and obedience. If you did otherwise, you would be
+blameworthy indeed.”
+
+With these virtuous words the young Prince went away, and, closing the
+door behind him so that he might not be followed to the staircase,
+he entered the closet, whither also came the fair lady as soon as her
+husband had fallen asleep.
+
+Thence she led the Prince into a cabinet as choicely furnished as might
+be, though in truth there were no fairer figures in it than he and she,
+no matter what garments they may have been pleased to wear. And here, I
+doubt not, she kept word with him as to all that she had promised.
+
+He departed thence at the hour which he had appointed with his
+gentlemen, and found them at the spot where he had aforetime bidden them
+wait.
+
+As this intercourse lasted a fairly long time, the young Prince chose
+a shorter way to the advocate’s house, and this led him through a
+monastery of monks. (4) And so well did he contrive matters with the
+Prior, that the porter used always to open the gate for him about
+midnight, and do the like also when he returned. And, as the house which
+he visited was hard by, he used to take nobody with him.
+
+     4  If at this period Jane Disome, the heroine of the story,
+     lived in the Rue de la Pauheminerie, where she is known to
+     have died some years afterwards, this monastery, in Baron
+     Jerome Pichon’s opinion, would be the Blancs-Manteaux, in
+     the Marais district of Paris. We may further point out that
+     in the Rue Barbette, near by, there was till modern times a
+     house traditionally known as the “hôtel de la belle
+     Féronnière.” That many writers have confused the heroine of
+     this tale with La Belle Féronnière (so called because her
+     husband was a certain Le Féron, an advocate) seems manifest;
+     the intrigue in which the former took part was doubtless
+     ascribed in error to the latter, and the proximity of their
+     abodes may have led to the mistake. It should be pointed
+     out, however, that the amour here recorded by Queen Margaret
+     took place in or about the year 1515, before Francis I.
+     ascended the throne, whereas La Féronnière was in all her
+     beauty between 1530 and 1540. The tradition that the King
+     had an intrigue with La Féronnière reposes on the flimsiest
+     evidence (see Appendix B), and the supposition, re-echoed by
+     the Bibliophile Jacob, that it was carried on in the Rue de
+     l’Hirondelle, is entirely erroneous. The house, adorned with
+     the salamander device and corneted initials of Francis I.,
+     which formerly extended from that street to the Rue Git-le-
+     Coeur, never had any connection with La Féronnière. It was
+     the famous so-called Palace of Love which the King built for
+     his acknowledged mistress, Anne de Pisseleu, Duchess of
+     Étampes.--Ed.
+
+Although he led the life that I have described, he was nevertheless a
+Prince that feared and loved God, and although he made no pause when
+going, he never failed on his return to continue for a long time praying
+in the church. And the monks, who when going to and fro at the hour of
+matins used to see him there on his knees, were thereby led to consider
+him the holiest man alive.
+
+This Prince had a sister (5) who often visited this monastery, and as
+she loved her brother more than any other living being, she used to
+commend him to the prayers of all whom she knew to be good.
+
+     5  This of course is Queen Margaret, then Duchess of
+     Alençon. On account of her apparent intimacy with the prior,
+     M. de Montaiglon conjectures that the monastery may have
+     been that of St. Martin-in-the-Fields.--See ante, Tale
+     XXII.--Ed.
+
+One day, when she was in this manner commending him lovingly to the
+Prior of the monastery, the Prior said to her--
+
+“Ah, madam, whom are you thus commending to me? You are speaking to me
+of a man in whose prayers, above those of all others, I would myself
+fain be remembered. For if he be not a holy man and a just”--here he
+quoted the passage which says, “Blessed is he that can do evil and doeth
+it not”--“_I_ cannot hope to be held for such.”
+
+The sister, wishing to learn what knowledge this worthy father could
+have of her brother’s goodness, questioned him so pressingly that he at
+last told her the secret under the seal of the confessional, saying--
+
+“Is it not an admirable thing to see a young and handsome Prince forsake
+pleasure and repose in order to come so often to hear our matins? Nor
+comes he like a Prince seeking honour of men, but quite alone, like a
+simple monk, and hides himself in one of our chapels. Truly such piety
+so shames both the monks and me, that we do not deem ourselves worthy of
+being called men of religion in comparison with him.”
+
+When the sister heard these words she was at a loss what to think. She
+knew that, although her brother was worldly enough, he had a tender
+conscience, as well as great faith and love towards God; but she had
+never suspected him of a leaning towards any superstitions or rites save
+such as a good Christian should observe. (6) She therefore went to him
+and told him the good opinion that the monks had of him, whereat he
+could not hold from laughing, and in such a manner that she, knowing
+him as she did her own heart, perceived that there was something hidden
+beneath his devotion; whereupon she rested not until she had made him
+tell her the truth.
+
+     6  In Boaistuau’s edition this sentence ends, “But she had
+     never suspected him of going to church at such an hour as
+     this.”--L.
+
+And she has made me here set it down in writing, for the purpose,
+ladies, of showing you that there is no lawyer so crafty and no monk
+so shrewd, but love, in case of need, gives the power of tricking them
+both, to those whose sole experience is in truly loving. And since love
+can thus deceive the deceivers, well may we, who are simple and ignorant
+folk, stand in awe of him.
+
+“Although,” said Geburon, “I can pretty well guess who the young Prince
+is, I must say that in this matter he was worthy of praise. We meet with
+few great lords who reck aught of a woman’s honour or a public scandal,
+if only they have their pleasure; nay, they are often well pleased to
+have men believe something that is even worse than the truth.”
+
+“Truly,” said Oisille, “I could wish that all young lords would follow
+his example, for the scandal is often worse than the sin.”
+
+“Of course,” said Nomerfide, “the prayers he offered up at the monastery
+through which he passed were sincere.”
+
+“That is not a matter for you to judge,” said Parlamente, “for perhaps
+his repentance on his return was great enough to procure him the pardon
+of his sin.”
+
+“‘Tis a hard matter,” said Hircan, “to repent of an offence so pleasing.
+For my own part I have many a time confessed such a one, but seldom have
+I repented of it.”
+
+“It would be better,” said Oisille, “not to confess at all, if one do
+not sincerely repent.”
+
+“Well, madam,” said Hircan, “sin sorely displeases me, and I am grieved
+to offend God, but, for all that, such sin is ever a pleasure to me.”
+
+“You and those like you,” said Parlamente, “would fain have neither God
+nor law other than your own desires might set up.”
+
+“I will own to you,” said Hircan, “that I would gladly have God take as
+deep a pleasure in my pleasures as I do myself, for I should then often
+give Him occasion to rejoice.”
+
+“However, you cannot set up a new God,” said Geburon, “and so we must
+e’en obey the one we have. Let us therefore leave such disputes to
+theologians, and allow Longarine to give some one her vote.”
+
+“I give it,” she said, “to Saffredent, but I will beg him to tell us the
+finest tale he can think of, and not to be so intent on speaking evil
+of women as to hide the truth when there is something good of them to
+relate.”
+
+“In sooth,” said Saffredent, “I consent, for I have here in hand the
+story of a wanton woman and a discreet one, and you shall take example
+by her who pleases you best. You will see that just as love leads wicked
+people to do wicked things, so does it lead a virtuous heart to do
+things that are worthy of praise; for love in itself is good, although
+the evil that is in those that are subject to it often makes it take a
+new title, such as wanton, light, cruel or vile. However, you will see
+from the tale that I am now about to relate that love does not change
+the heart, but discovers it to be what it really is, wanton in the
+wanton and discreet in the discreet.”
+
+[Illustration: 142.jpg Tailpiece]
+
+[Illustration: 143a.jpg The Lord of Avannes paying His Court in Disguise]
+
+[The Lord of Avannes paying His Court in Disguise]
+
+[Illustration: 143.jpg Page Image]
+
+
+
+
+_TALE XXVI_.
+
+     _By the counsel and sisterly affection of a virtuous lady,
+     the Lord of Avannes was drawn from the wanton love that he
+     entertained for a gentlewoman dwelling at Pampeluna_.
+
+In the days of King Louis the Twelfth there lived a young lord called
+Monsieur d’Avannes, (1) son of the Lord of Albret [and] brother to
+King John of Navarre, with whom this aforesaid Lord of Avannes commonly
+abode.
+
+     1  This is Gabriel d’Albret, Lord of Avesnes and Lesparre,
+     fourth son of Alan the Great, Sire d’Albret, and brother of
+     John d’Albret, King of Navarre, respecting whom see _post_,
+     note 4 to Tale XXX. Queen Margaret is in error in dating
+     this story from the reign of Louis XII. The incidents she
+     relates must have occurred between 1485 and 1490, under the
+     reign of Charles VIII., by whom Gabriel d’Albret, on
+     reaching manhood, was successively appointed counsellor and
+     chamberlain, Seneschal of Guyenne and Viceroy of Naples.
+     Under Louis XII. he took a prominent part in the Italian
+     campaigns of 1500-1503, in which latter year he is known to
+     have made his will, bequeathing all he possessed to his
+     brother, Cardinal d’Albret. He died a bachelor in 1504.--See
+     Anselme’s _Histoire Généalogique_, vol. vi. p. 214.--L. and
+     Ed.
+
+Now this young lord, who was fifteen years of age, was so handsome and
+so fully endowed with every excellent grace that he seemed to have been
+made solely to be loved and admired, as he was indeed by all who saw
+him, and above all by a lady who dwelt in the town of Pampeluna (2) in
+Navarre. She was married to a very rich man, with whom she lived in all
+virtue, inasmuch that, although her husband was nearly fifty years old
+and she was only three and twenty, she dressed so plainly that she had
+more the appearance of a widow than of a married woman. Moreover, she
+was never known to go to weddings or feasts unless accompanied by her
+husband, whose worth and virtue she prized so highly that she set them
+before all the comeliness of other men. And her husband, finding her so
+discreet, trusted her and gave all the affairs of his household into her
+hands.
+
+     2  Pampeluna or Pamplona, the capital of Navarre, wrested
+     from King John in 1512 by the troops of Ferdinand the
+     Catholic.--Ed.
+
+One day this rich man was invited with his wife to a wedding among their
+kinsfolk; and among those who were present to do honour to the bridal
+was the young Lord of Avannes, who was exceedingly fond of dancing, as
+was natural in one who surpassed therein all others of his time. When
+dinner was over and the dances were begun, the rich man begged the Lord
+of Avannes to do his part, whereupon the said lord asked him with whom
+he would have him dance.
+
+“My lord,” replied the gentleman, “I can present to you no lady fairer
+and more completely at my disposal than my wife, and I therefore beg you
+to honour me so far as to lead her out.”
+
+This the young Prince did; and he was still so young that he took far
+greater pleasure in frisking and dancing than in observing the beauty
+of the ladies. But his partner, on the contrary, gave more heed to his
+grace and beauty than to the dance, though in her prudence she took good
+care not to let this appear.
+
+The supper hour being come, the Lord of Avannes bade the company
+farewell, and departed to the castle, (3) whither the rich man
+accompanied him on his mule. And as they were going, the rich man said
+to him--
+
+“My lord, you have this day done so much honour to my kinsfolk and to
+me, that I should indeed be ungrateful if I did not place myself with
+all that belongs to me at your service. I know, sir, that lords like
+yourself, who have stern and miserly fathers, are often in greater need
+of money than we, who, with small establishments and careful husbandry,
+seek only to save up wealth. Now, albeit God has given me a wife after
+my own heart, it has not pleased Him to give me all my Paradise in this
+world, for He has withheld from me the joy that fathers derive from
+having children. I know, my lord, that it is not for me to adopt you as
+a son, but if you will accept me for your servant and make known to me
+your little affairs, I will not fail to assist you in your need so far
+as a hundred thousand crowns may go.”
+
+     3  Evidently the castle of Pampeluna, where Gabriel d’Albret
+     resided with his brother the King.--Ed.
+
+The Lord of Avannes was in great joy at this offer, for he had just such
+a father as the other had described; accordingly he thanked him, and
+called him his adopted father.
+
+From that hour the rich man evinced so much love towards the Lord of
+Avannes, that morning and evening he failed not to inquire whether he
+had need of anything, nor did he conceal this devotion from his wife,
+who loved him for it twice as much as before. Thenceforward the Lord of
+Avannes had no lack of anything that he desired. He often visited the
+rich man, and ate and drank with him; and when he found the husband
+abroad, the wife gave him all that he required, and further spoke to
+him so sagely, exhorting him to live discreetly and virtuously, that he
+reverenced and loved her above all other women.
+
+Having God and honour before her eyes, she remained content with thus
+seeing him and speaking to him, for these are sufficient for virtuous
+and honourable love; and she never gave any token whereby he might have
+imagined that she felt aught but a sisterly and Christian affection
+towards him.
+
+While this secret love continued, the Lord of Avannes, who, by the
+assistance that I have spoken of, was always well and splendidly
+apparelled, came to the age of seventeen years, and began to frequent
+the company of ladies more than had been his wont. And although he would
+fain have loved this virtuous lady rather than any other, yet his fear
+of losing her friendship should she hear any such discourse from him,
+led him to remain silent and to divert himself elsewhere.
+
+He therefore addressed himself to a gentlewoman of the neighbourhood of
+Pampeluna, who had a house in the town, and was married to a young man
+whose chief delight was in horses, hawks and hounds. For her sake, he
+began to set on foot a thousand diversions, such as tourneys, races,
+wrestlings, masquerades, banquets, and other pastimes, at all of which
+this young lady was present. But as her husband was very humorsome, and
+her parents, knowing her to be both fair and frolicsome, were jealous of
+her honour, they kept such strict watch over her that my Lord of Avannes
+could obtain nothing from her save a word or two at the dance, although,
+from the little that had passed between them, he well knew that time and
+place alone were wanting to crown their loves.
+
+He therefore went to his good father, the rich man, and told him that he
+deeply desired to make a pilgrimage to our Lady of Montferrat, (4) for
+which reason he begged him to house his followers, seeing that he wished
+to go alone.
+
+     4  The famous monastery of Montserrate, at eight leagues
+     from Barcelona, where is preserved the ebony statue of the
+     Virgin carrying the Infant Jesus, which is traditionally
+     said to have been carved by St. Luke, and to have been
+     brought to Spain by St. Peter.--See _Libro de la historia y
+     milagros hechos à invocation de Nuestra Seilora de
+     Montserrate_, Barcelona, 1556, 8vo.--Ed.
+
+To this the rich man agreed; but his wife, in whose heart was that great
+soothsayer, Love, forthwith suspected the true nature of the journey,
+and could not refrain from saying--
+
+“My lord, my lord, the Lady you adore is not without the walls of
+this town, so I pray that you will have in all matters a care for your
+health.”
+
+At this he, who both feared and loved her, blushed so deeply that,
+without speaking a word, he confessed the truth; and so he went away.
+
+Having bought a couple of handsome Spanish horses, he dressed himself
+as a groom, and disguised his face in such a manner that none could know
+him. The gentleman who was husband to the wanton lady, and who loved
+horses more than aught beside, saw the two that the Lord of Avannes
+was leading, and forthwith offered to buy them. When he had done so, he
+looked at the groom, who was managing the horses excellently well, and
+asked whether he would enter his service. The Lord of Avannes replied
+that he would; saying that he was but a poor groom, who knew no trade
+except the caring of horses, but in this he could do so well that he
+would assuredly give satisfaction. At this the gentleman was pleased,
+and having given him the charge of all his horses, entered his house,
+and told his wife that he was leaving for the castle, and confided his
+horses and groom to her keeping.
+
+The lady, as much to please her husband as for her own diversion, went
+to see the horses, and looked at the new groom, who seemed to her to be
+well favoured, though she did not at all recognise him. Seeing that
+he was not recognised, he came up to do her reverence in the Spanish
+fashion and kissed her hand, and, in doing so, pressed it so closely
+that she at once knew him, for he had often done the same at the dance.
+From that moment, the lady thought of nothing but how she might speak
+to him in private; and contrived to do so that very evening, for, being
+invited to a banquet, to which her husband wished to take her, she
+pretended that she was ill and unable to go.
+
+The husband, being unwilling to disappoint his friends, thereupon said
+to her--
+
+“Since you will not come, my love, I pray you take good care of my
+horses and hounds, so that they may want for nothing.”
+
+The lady deemed this charge a very agreeable one, but, without showing
+it, she replied that since he had nothing better for her to do, she
+would show him even in these trifling matters how much she desired to
+please him.
+
+And scarcely was her husband outside the door than she went down to the
+stable, where she found that something was amiss, and to set it right
+gave so many orders to the serving-men on this side and the other, that
+at last she was left alone with the chief groom, when, fearing that some
+one might come upon them, she said to him--
+
+“Go into the garden, and wait for me in a summer house that stands at
+the end of the alley.”
+
+This he did, and with such speed that he stayed not even to thank her.
+
+When she had set the whole stable in order, she went to see the dogs,
+and was so careful to have them properly treated, that from mistress she
+seemed to have become a serving-woman. Afterwards she withdrew to her
+own apartment, where she lay down weariedly upon the bed, saying that
+she wished to rest. All her women left her excepting one whom she
+trusted, and to whom she said--
+
+“Go into the garden, and bring here the man whom you will find at the
+end of the alley.”
+
+The maid went and found the groom, whom she forthwith brought to the
+lady, and the latter then sent her outside to watch for her husband’s
+return. When the Lord of Avannes found himself alone with the lady, he
+doffed his groom’s dress, took off his false nose and beard, and, not
+like a timorous groom, but like the handsome lord he was, boldly got
+into bed with her without so much as asking her leave; and he was
+received as the handsomest youth of his time deserved to be by the
+handsomest and gayest lady in the land, and remained with her until her
+husband returned. Then he again took his mask and left the place which
+his craft and artifice had usurped.
+
+On entering the courtyard the gentleman heard of the diligence that his
+wife had shown in obeying him, and he thanked her heartily for it.
+
+“Sweetheart,” said the lady, “I did but my duty. Tis true that if we did
+not keep watch upon these rogues of servants you would not have a dog
+without the mange or a horse in good condition; but, now that I know
+their slothfulness and your wishes, you shall be better served than ever
+you were before.”
+
+The gentleman, who thought that he had chosen the best groom in the
+world, asked her what she thought of him.
+
+“I will own, sir,” she replied, “that he does his work as well as
+any you could have chosen, but he needs to be urged on, for he is the
+sleepiest knave I ever saw.”
+
+So the lord and his lady lived together more lovingly than before, and
+he lost all the suspicion and jealousy with which he had regarded her,
+seeing that she was now as careful of her house hold as she had formerly
+been devoted to banquets, dances and assemblies. Whereas, also, she had
+formerly been wont to spend four hours in attiring herself, she was now
+often content to wear nothing but a dressing-gown over her chemise; and
+for this she was praised by her husband and by every one else, for they
+did not understand that a stronger devil had entered her and thrust out
+a weaker one.
+
+Thus did this young lady, under the guise of a virtuous woman, like
+the hypocrite she was, live in such wantonness that reason, conscience,
+order and moderation found no place within her. The youth and tender
+constitution of the Lord of Avannes could not long endure this, and he
+began to grow so pale and lean that even without his mask he might well
+have passed unrecognised; yet the mad love that he had for this woman so
+blunted his understanding that he imagined he had strength to accomplish
+feats that even Hercules had tried in vain. However, being at last
+constrained by sickness and advised thereto by his lady, who was not so
+fond of him sick as sound, he asked his master’s leave to return home,
+and this his master gave him with much regret, making him promise to
+come back to service when he was well again.
+
+In this wise did the Lord of Avannes go away, and all on foot, for he
+had only the length of a street to travel. On arriving at the house
+of his good father, the rich man, he there found only his wife, whose
+honourable love for him had been in no whit lessened by his journey.
+But when she saw him so colourless and thin, she could not refrain from
+saying to him--
+
+“I do not know, my lord, how your conscience may be, but your body has
+certainly not been bettered by your pilgrimage. I fear me that your
+journeyings by night have done you more harm than your journeyings by
+day, for had you gone to Jerusalem on foot you would have come back more
+sunburnt, indeed, but not so thin and weak. Pay good heed to this one,
+and worship no longer such images as those, which, instead of reviving
+the dead, cause the living to die. I would say more, but if your body
+has sinned it has been well punished, and I feel too much pity for you
+to add any further distress.”
+
+When my Lord of Avannes heard these words, he was as sorry as he was
+ashamed.
+
+“Madam,” he replied, “I have heard that repentance follows upon sin, and
+now I have proved it to my cost. But I pray you pardon my youth, which
+could not have been punished save by the evil in which it would not
+believe.”
+
+Thereupon changing her discourse, the lady made him lie down in a
+handsome bed, where he remained for a fortnight, taking nothing but
+restoratives; and the lady and her husband constantly kept him company,
+so that he always had one or the other beside him. And although he had
+acted foolishly, as you have heard, contrary to the desire and counsel
+of the virtuous lady, she, nevertheless, lost nought of the virtuous
+love that she felt towards him, for she still hoped that, after spending
+his early youth in follies, he would throw them off and bring himself to
+love virtuously, and so be all her own.
+
+During the fortnight that he was in her house, she held to him such
+excellent discourse, all tending to the love of virtue, that he began to
+loathe the folly that he had committed. Observing, moreover, the lady’s
+beauty, which surpassed that of the wanton one, and becoming more and
+more aware of the graces and virtues that were in her, he one day, when
+it was rather dark, could not longer hold from speaking, but, putting
+away all fear, said to her--
+
+“I see no better means, madam, for becoming a virtuous man such as you
+urge me and desire me to be, than by being heart and soul in love with
+virtue. I therefore pray you, madam, to tell me whether you will give me
+in this matter all the assistance and favour that you can.”
+
+The lady rejoiced to find him speaking in this way, and replied--
+
+“I promise you, my lord, that if you are in love with virtue as it
+beseems a lord like yourself to be, I will assist your efforts with all
+the strength that God has given me.”
+
+“Now, madam,” said my Lord of Avannes, “remember your promise, and
+consider also that God, whom man knows by faith alone, deigned to take
+a fleshly nature like that of the sinner upon Himself, in order that, by
+drawing our flesh to the love of His humanity, He might at the same time
+draw our spirits to the love of His divinity, thus making use of visible
+means to make us in all faith love the things which are invisible. In
+like manner this virtue, which I would fain love all my life long, is
+a thing invisible except in so far as it produces outward effects, for
+which reason it must take some bodily shape in order to become known
+among men. And this it has done by clothing itself in your form, the
+most perfect it could find. I therefore recognise and own that you are
+not only virtuous but virtue itself; and now, finding it shine beneath
+the veil of the most perfect person that was ever known, I would fain
+serve it and honour it all my life, renouncing for its sake every other
+vain and vicious love.”
+
+The lady, who was no less pleased than surprised to hear these words,
+concealed her happiness and said--
+
+“My lord, I will not undertake to answer your theology, but since I am
+more ready to apprehend evil than to believe in good, I will entreat you
+to address to me no more such words as lead you to esteem but lightly
+those who are wont to believe them. I very well know that I am a woman
+like any other and imperfect, and that virtue would do a greater thing
+by transforming me into itself than by assuming my form--unless, indeed,
+it would fain pass unrecognised through the world, for in such a garb as
+mine its real nature could never be known. Nevertheless, my lord, with
+all my imperfections, I have ever borne to you all such affection as
+is right and possible in a woman who reverences God and her honour. But
+this affection shall not be declared until your heart is capable of that
+patience which a virtuous love enjoins. At that time, my lord, I shall
+know what to say, but meanwhile be assured that you do not love your own
+welfare, person and honour as I myself love them.”
+
+The Lord of Avannes timorously and with tears in his eyes entreated her
+earnestly to seal her words with a kiss, but she refused, saying that
+she would not break for him the custom of her country.
+
+While this discussion was going on the husband came in, and my Lord of
+Avannes said to him--
+
+“I am greatly indebted, father, both to you and to your wife, and I pray
+you ever to look upon me as your son.”
+
+This the worthy man readily promised.
+
+“And to seal your love,” said the Lord of Avannes, “I pray you let me
+kiss you.” This he did, after which the Lord of Avannes said--:
+
+“If I were not afraid of offending against the law, I would do the same
+to your wife and my mother.”
+
+Upon this, the husband commanded his wife to kiss him, which she
+did without appearing either to like or to dislike what her husband
+commanded her. But the fire that words had already kindled in the poor
+lord’s heart, grew fiercer at this kiss which had been so earnestly
+sought for and so cruelly denied.
+
+After this the Lord of Avannes betook himself to the castle to see his
+brother, the King, to whom he told fine stories about his journey to
+Montferrat. He found that the King was going to Oly and Taffares, (5)
+and, reflecting that the journey would be a long one, he fell into deep
+sadness, and resolved before going away to try whether the virtuous lady
+were not better disposed towards him than she appeared to be.
+
+     5  Evidently Olite and Tafalla, the former at thirty and the
+     latter at twenty-seven miles from Pamplona. The two towns
+     were commonly called _la flor de Navarra_. King John
+     doubtless intended sojourning at the summer palaces which
+     his predecessor Carlos the Noble had built at either
+     locality, and which were connected, it is said, by a gallery
+     a league in length. Some ruins of these palaces still exist.
+     --Ed.
+
+He therefore went to lodge in the street in which she lived, where he
+hired an old house, badly built of timber. About midnight he set fire to
+it, and the alarm, which spread through the whole town, reached the rich
+man’s house. He asked from the window where the fire was, and hearing
+that it was in the house of the Lord of Avannes, immediately hastened
+thither with all his servants. He found the young lord in the street,
+clad in nothing but his shirt, whereat in his deep compassion he took
+him in his arms, and, covering him with his own robe, brought him home
+as quickly as possible, where he said to his wife, who was in bed--
+
+“Here, sweetheart, I give this prisoner into your charge. Treat him as
+you would treat myself.”
+
+As soon as he was gone, the Lord of Avannes, who would gladly have been
+treated like a husband, sprang lightly into the bed, hoping that place
+and opportunity would bring this discreet lady to a different mind; but
+he found the contrary to be the case, for as he leaped into the bed on
+one side, she got out at the other. Then, putting on her dressing-gown,
+she came up to the head of the bed and spoke as follows--
+
+“Did you think, my lord, that opportunity could influence a chaste
+heart? Nay, just as gold is tried in the furnace, so a chaste heart
+becomes stronger and more virtuous in the midst of temptation, and
+grows colder the more it is assailed by its opposite. You may be sure,
+therefore, that had I been otherwise minded than I professed myself to
+be, I should not have wanted means, to which I have paid no heed solely
+because I desire not to use them. So I beg of you, if you would have me
+preserve my affection for you, put away not merely the desire but even
+the thought that you can by any means whatever make me other than I am.”
+
+While she was speaking, her women came in, and she commanded a collation
+of all kinds of sweetmeats to be brought; but the young lord could
+neither eat nor drink, in such despair was he at having failed in his
+enterprise, and in such fear lest this manifestation of his passion
+should cost him the familiar intercourse that he had been wont to have
+with her.
+
+Having dealt with the fire, the husband came back again, and begged the
+Lord of Avannes to remain at his house for the night. This he did,
+but in such wise that his eyes were more exercised in weeping than in
+sleeping. Early in the morning he went to bid them farewell, while they
+were still in bed; and in kissing the lady he perceived that she felt
+more pity for the offence than anger against the offender, and thus was
+another brand added to the fire of his love. After dinner, he set out
+for Taffares with the King; but before leaving he went again to take
+yet another farewell of his good father and the lady who, after her
+husband’s first command, made no difficulty in kissing him as her son.
+
+But you may be sure that the more virtue prevented her eyes and features
+from testifying to the hidden flame, the fiercer and more intolerable
+did that flame become. And so, being unable to endure the war between
+love and honour, which was waging in her heart, but which she had
+nevertheless resolved should never be made apparent, and no longer
+having the comfort of seeing and speaking to him for whose sake alone
+she cared to live, she fell at last into a continuous fever, caused by a
+melancholic humour which so wrought upon her that the extremities of her
+body became quite cold, while her inward parts burned without ceasing.
+The doctors, who have not the health of men in their power, began to
+grow very doubtful concerning her recovery, by reason of an obstruction
+that affected the extremities, and advised her husband to admonish her
+to think of her conscience and remember that she was in God’s hands--as
+though indeed the healthy were not in them also.
+
+The husband, who loved his wife devotedly, was so saddened by their
+words that for his comfort he wrote to the Lord of Avannes entreating
+him to take the trouble to come and see them, in the hope that the sight
+of him might be of advantage to the patient. On receiving the letter,
+the Lord of Avannes did not tarry, but started off post-haste to the
+house of his worthy father, where he found the servants, both men and
+women, assembled at the door, making such lament for their mistress as
+she deserved.
+
+So greatly amazed was he at the sight, that he remained on the threshold
+like one paralysed, until he beheld his good father, who embraced him,
+weeping the while so bitterly that he could not utter a word. Then he
+led the Lord of Avannes to the chamber of the sick lady, who, turning
+her languid eyes upon him, put out her hand and drew him to her with
+all the strength she had. She kissed and embraced him, and made wondrous
+lamentation, saying--
+
+“O my lord, the hour has come when all dissimulation must cease, and I
+must confess the truth which I have been at such pains to hide from you.
+If your affection for me was great, know that mine for you has been no
+less; but my grief has been greater than yours, because I have had the
+anguish of concealing it contrary to the wish of my heart. God and my
+honour have never, my lord, suffered me to make it known to you, lest
+I should increase in you that which I sought to diminish; but you must
+learn that the ‘no’ I so often said to you pained me so greatly in the
+utterance that it has indeed proved the cause of my death.
+
+“Nevertheless, I am glad it should be so, and that God in His grace
+should have caused me to die before the vehemence of my love has stained
+my conscience and my fair fame; for smaller fires have ere now destroyed
+greater and stronger structures. And I am glad that before dying I have
+been able to make known to you that my affection is equal to your own,
+save only that men’s honour and women’s are not the same thing. And
+I pray you, my lord, fear not henceforward to address yourself to the
+greatest and most virtuous of ladies; for in such hearts do the deepest
+and discreetest passions dwell, and moreover, your own grace and beauty
+and worth will not suffer your love to toil without reward.
+
+“I will not beg you, my lord, to pray God for me, because I know full
+well that the gate of Paradise is never closed against true lovers, and
+that the fire of love punishes lovers so severely in this life here
+that they are forgiven the sharp torment of Purgatory. And now, my lord,
+farewell; I commend to you your good father, my husband. Tell him the
+truth as you have heard it from me, that he may know how I have loved
+God and him. And come no more before my eyes, for I now desire to think
+only of obtaining those promises made to me by God before the creation
+of the world.”
+
+With these words she kissed him and embraced him with all the strength
+of her feeble arms. The young lord, whose heart was as nearly dead
+through pity as hers was through pain, was unable to say a single word.
+He withdrew from her sight to a bed that was in the room, and there
+several times swooned away.
+
+Then the lady called her husband, and, after giving him much virtuous
+counsel, commended the Lord of Avannes to him, declaring that next to
+himself she had loved him more than any one upon earth, and so, kissing
+her husband, she bade him farewell. Then, after the extreme unction, the
+Holy Sacrament was brought to her from the altar, and this she received
+with the joy of one who is assured of her salvation. And finding that
+her sight was growing dim and her strength failing her, she began to
+utter the “In manus” aloud.
+
+Hearing this cry, the Lord of Avannes raised himself up on the bed where
+he was lying, and gazing piteously upon her, beheld her with a gentle
+sigh surrender her glorious soul to Him from whom it had come. When he
+perceived that she was dead, he ran to the body, which when alive he had
+ever approached with fear, and kissed and embraced it in such wise that
+he could hardly be separated from it, whereat the husband was greatly
+astonished, for he had never believed he bore her so much affection; and
+with the words, “Tis too much, my lord,” he led him away.
+
+After he had lamented for a great while, the Lord of Avannes related all
+the converse they had had together during their love, and how, until her
+death, she had never given him sign of aught save severity. This, while
+it gave the husband exceeding joy, also increased his grief and sorrow
+at the loss he had sustained, and for the remainder of his days he
+rendered service to the Lord of Avannes.
+
+But from that time forward my Lord of Avannes, who was then only
+eighteen years old, went to reside at Court, where he lived for many
+years without wishing to see or to speak with any living woman by reason
+of his grief for the lady he had lost; and he wore mourning for her sake
+during more than ten years. (6)
+
+     6  Some extracts from Brantôme bearing on this story will be
+     found in the Appendix, C.
+
+“You here see, ladies, what a difference there is between a wanton lady
+and a discreet one. The effects of love are also different in each case;
+for the one came by a glorious and praiseworthy death, while the other
+lived only too long with the reputation of a vile and shameless woman.
+Just as the death of a saint is precious in the sight of God, so is the
+death of a sinner abhorrent.”
+
+“In truth, Saffredent,” said Oisille, “you have told us the finest tale
+imaginable, and any one who knew the hero would deem it better still.
+I have never seen a handsomer or more graceful gentleman than was this
+Lord of Avannes.”
+
+“She was indeed a very virtuous woman,” said Saffredent. “So as to
+appear outwardly more virtuous than she was in her heart, and to conceal
+her love for this worthy lord which reason and nature had inspired,
+she must needs die rather than take the pleasure which she secretly
+desired.”
+
+“If she had felt such a desire,” said Parlamente, “she would have lacked
+neither place nor opportunity to make it known; but the greatness of her
+virtue prevented her desire from exceeding the bounds of reason.”
+
+“You may paint her as you will,” said Hircan, “but I know very well that
+a stronger devil always thrusts out the weaker, and that the pride of
+ladies seeks pleasure rather than the fear and love of God. Their robes
+are long and well woven with dissimulation, so that we cannot tell what
+is beneath, for if their honour were not more easily stained than ours,
+(7) you would find that Nature’s work is as complete in them as in
+ourselves. But not daring to take the pleasure they desire, they have
+exchanged that vice for a greater, which they deem more honourable, I
+mean a self-sufficient cruelty, whereby they look to obtain everlasting
+renown.
+
+     7  This reading is borrowed from MS. No. 1520. In the MS.
+     mainly followed for this translation, the passage runs as
+     follows-“if their honour were not more easily stained than
+     their hearts.”--L.
+
+By thus glorying in their resistance to the vice of Nature’s law--if,
+indeed, anything natural be vicious--they become not only like inhuman
+and cruel beasts, but even like the devils whose pride and subtility
+they borrow.” (8)
+
+     8  This reading is borrowed from MS. No. 1520. In our MS.
+     the passage runs--“like the devils whose semblance and
+     subtility they borrow.”--L.
+
+“Tis a pity,” said Nomerfide, “that you should have an honourable wife,
+for you not only think lightly of virtue, but are even fain to prove
+that it is vice.”
+
+“I am very glad,” said Hircan, “to have a wife of good repute, just
+as I, myself, would be of good repute. But as for chastity of heart, I
+believe that we are both children of Adam and Eve; wherefore, when we
+examine ourselves, we have no need to cover our nakedness with leaves,
+but should rather confess our frailty.”
+
+“I know,” said Parlamente, “that we all have need of God’s grace, being
+all steeped in sin; but, for all that, our temptations are not similar
+to yours, and if we sin through pride, no one is injured by it, nor
+do our bodies and hands receive a stain. But your pleasure consists in
+dishonouring women, and your honour in slaying men in war--two things
+expressly contrary to the law of God.” (9)
+
+“I admit what you say,” said Geburon, “but God has said, ‘Whosoever
+looketh with lust, hath already committed adultery in his heart,’ and
+further, ‘Whosoever hateth his neighbour is a murderer.’ (10) Do you
+think that women offend less against these texts than we?”
+
+     9 This sentence, defective in our MS., is taken from No.
+     1520.--L.
+
+     10 1 St. John iii. 15.--M.
+
+“God, who judges the heart,” said Longarine, “must decide that. But it
+is an important thing that men should not be able to accuse us, for the
+goodness of God is so great, that He will not judge us unless there
+be an accuser. And so well, moreover, does He know the frailty of our
+hearts, that He will even love us for not having put our thoughts into
+execution.”
+
+“I pray you,” said Saffredent, “let us leave this dispute, for it
+savours more of a sermon than of a tale. I give my vote to Ennasuite,
+and beg that she will bear in mind to make us laugh.”
+
+“Indeed,” said she, “I will not fail to do so; for I would have you know
+that whilst coming hither, resolved upon relating a fine story to you
+to-day, I was told so merry a tale about two servants of a Princess,
+that, in laughing at it, I quite forgot the melancholy story which I had
+prepared, and which I will put off until to-morrow; for, with the merry
+face I now have, you would scarce find it to your liking.”
+
+[Illustration: 170.jpg Tailpiece]
+
+[Illustration: 171a.jpg The Secretary imploring the Lady not To Tell Of His Wickedness]
+
+[The Secretary imploring the Lady not To Tell Of His Wickedness]
+
+[Illustration: 171.jpg Page Image]
+
+
+
+
+_TALE XXVII_.
+
+     _A secretary sought the wife of his host and comrade in
+     dishonourable and unlawful love, and as she made show of
+     willingly giving ear to him, he was persuaded that he had
+     won her. But she was virtuous, and, while dissembling
+     towards him, deceived his hopes and made known his
+     viciousness to her husband_. (1)
+
+     1  The incidents here related would have occurred at Amboise
+     between 1540 and 1545. The hero of the story would probably
+     be John Frotté, Queen Margaret’s First Secretary, who also
+     apparently figures in Tale XXVIII. The Sires de Frotté had
+     been in the service of the Dukes of Alençon since the early
+     part of the fifteenth century. Ste-Marthe says of John
+     Frotté that he was a man of great experience and good wit,
+     prudent, dutiful and diligent. He died secretary to Francis
+     I.--L. and B. J.
+
+In the town of Amboise there lived one of this Princess’s servants, an
+honest man who served her in the quality of valet-de-chambre, and who
+used readily to entertain those that visited his house, more especially
+his own comrades; and not long since one of his mistress’s servants came
+to lodge with him, and remained with him ten or twelve days.
+
+This man was so ugly that he looked more like a King of the cannibals
+than a Christian, and although his host treated him as a friend and a
+brother, and with all the courtesy imaginable, he behaved in return not
+only like one who has forgotten all honour, but as one who has never had
+it in his heart. For he sought, in dishonourable and unlawful love, his
+comrade’s wife, who was in no sort attractive to lust but rather the
+reverse, and was moreover as virtuous a woman as any in the town in
+which she lived. When she perceived the man’s evil intent, she thought
+it better to employ dissimulation in order to bring his viciousness to
+light, rather than conceal it by a sudden refusal; and she therefore
+made a pretence of approving his discourse. He then believed he had won
+her, and, paying no heed to her age, which was that of fifty years, or
+to her lack of beauty, or her reputation as a virtuous woman attached to
+her husband, he urged his suit continually.
+
+One day, the husband being in the house, the wife and her suitor were in
+a large room together, when she pretended that he had but to find some
+safe spot in order to have such private converse with her as he desired.
+He immediately replied that it was only necessary to go up to the
+garret. She instantly rose, and begged him to go first, saying that
+she would follow. Smiling with as sweet a countenance as that of a big
+baboon entertaining a friend, he went lightly up the stairway; and,
+on the tip-toe of expectation with regard to that which he so greatly
+desired, burning with a fire not clear, like that of juniper, but dense
+like that of coal in the furnace, he listened whether she was coming
+after him. But instead of hearing her footsteps, he heard her voice
+saying--
+
+“Wait, master secretary, for a little; I am going to find out whether it
+be my husband’s pleasure that I should go up to you.”
+
+His face when laughing was ugly indeed, and you may imagine, ladies, how
+it looked when he wept; but he came down instantly, with tears in his
+eyes, and besought her for the love of God not to say aught that would
+destroy the friendship between his comrade and himself.
+
+“I am sure,” she replied, “that you like him too well to say anything he
+may not hear. I shall therefore go and tell him of the matter.”
+
+And this, in spite of all his entreaties and threats, she did. And if
+his shame thereat was great as he fled the place, the husband’s joy
+was no less on hearing of the honourable deception that his wife had
+practised; indeed, so pleased was he with his wife’s virtue that he
+took no notice of his comrade’s viciousness, deeming him sufficiently
+punished inasmuch as the shame he had thought to work in another’s
+household had fallen upon his own head.
+
+“I think that from this tale honest people should learn not to admit to
+their houses those whose conscience, heart and understanding know nought
+of God, honour and true love.”
+
+“Though your tale be short,” said Oisille, “it is as pleasant as any I
+have heard, and it is to the honour of a virtuous woman.”
+
+“‘Fore God,” said Simontault, “it is no great honour for a virtuous
+woman to refuse a man so ugly as you represent this secretary to have
+been. Had he been handsome and polite, her virtue would then have been
+clear. I think I know who he is, and, if it were my turn, I could tell
+you another story about him that is no less droll.”
+
+“Let that be no hindrance,” said Ennasuite, “for I give you my vote.”
+
+Thereupon Simontault began as follows:--
+
+“Those who are accustomed to dwell at Court or in large towns value
+their own knowledge so highly that they think very little of all other
+men in comparison with themselves; but, for all that, there are subtle
+and crafty folk to be found in every condition of life. Still, when
+those who think themselves the cleverest are caught tripping, their
+pride makes the jest a particularly pleasant one, and this I will try to
+show by telling you of something that lately happened.”
+
+[Illustration: 175.jpg Tailpiece]
+
+[Illustration: 177a.jpg The Secretary Opening the Pasty]
+
+[The Secretary Opening the Pasty]
+
+[Illustration: 177.jpg Page Image]
+
+
+
+
+_TALE XXVIII_.
+
+     _A secretary, thinking to deceive Bernard du Ha, was by him
+     cunningly deceived_. (1)
+
+     1  The incidents of this story must have occurred subsequent
+     to 1527. The secretary is doubtless John Frotté. We have
+     failed to identify the Lieutenant referred to.--M. and Ed.
+
+It chanced that when King Francis, first of the name, was in the city of
+Paris, and with him his sister, the Queen of Navarre, the latter had a
+secretary called John. He was not one of those who allow a good thing to
+lie on the ground for want of picking it up, and there was, accordingly,
+not a president or a councillor whom he did not know, and not a merchant
+or a rich man with whom he had not intercourse and correspondence.
+
+At this time there also arrived in Paris a merchant of Bayonne, called
+Bernard du Ha, who, both on account of the nature of his commerce and
+because the Lieutenant for Criminal Affairs (2) was a countryman of his,
+was wont to address himself to that officer for counsel and assistance
+in the transaction of his business. The Queen of Navarre’s secretary
+used also frequently to visit the Lieutenant as one who was a good
+servant to his master and mistress.
+
+     2  The Provost of Paris, who, in the King’s name,
+     administered justice at the Châtelet court, and upon whose
+     sergeants fell the duty of arresting and imprisoning all
+     vagabonds, criminals and disturbers of the peace, was
+     assisted in his functions by three lieutenants, one for
+     criminal affairs, one for civil affairs, and one for
+     ordinary police duties.--Ed.
+
+One feast-day the secretary went to the Lieutenant’s house, and found
+both him and his wife abroad; but he very plainly heard Bernard du Ha
+teaching the serving-women to foot the Gascon dances to the sound of a
+viol or some other instrument. And when the secretary saw him, he
+would have had him believe that he was committing the greatest offence
+imaginable, and that if the Lieutenant and his wife knew of it they
+would be greatly displeased with him. And after setting the fear of this
+well before his eyes, until, indeed, the other begged him not to say
+anything about it, he asked--
+
+“What will you give me if I keep silence?”
+
+Bernard du Ha, who was by no means so much afraid as he seemed to be,
+saw that the secretary was trying to cozen him, and promised to give him
+a pasty of the best Basque ham (3) that he had ever eaten. The secretary
+was well pleased at this, and begged that he might have the pasty on the
+following Sunday after dinner, which was promised him.
+
+     3  So-called Bayonne ham is still held in repute in France.
+     It comes really from Orthez and Salies in Beam.--D.
+
+Relying upon this promise, he went to see a lady of Paris whom above all
+things he desired to marry, and said to her--
+
+“On Sunday, mistress, I will come and sup with you, if such be your
+pleasure. But trouble not to provide aught save some good bread and
+wine, for I have so deceived a foolish fellow from Bayonne that all the
+rest will be at his expense; by my trickery you shall taste the best
+Basque ham that ever was eaten in Paris.”
+
+The lady believed his story, and called together two or three of the
+most honourable ladies of her neighbourhood, telling them that she would
+give them a new dish such as they had never tasted before.
+
+When Sunday was come, the secretary went to look for his merchant, and
+finding him on the Pont-au-Change, (4) saluted him graciously and said--
+
+“The devil take you, for the trouble you have given me to find you.”
+
+     4  The oldest of the Paris bridges, spanning the Seine
+     between the Châtelet and the Palais. Originally called the
+     Grand-Pont, it acquired the name of Pont-au-Change through
+     Louis VII. allowing the money-changers to build their houses
+     and offices upon it in 1141.--Ed.
+
+Bernard du Ha made reply that a good many men had taken more trouble
+than he without being rewarded in the end with such a dainty dish. So
+saying, he showed him the pasty, which he was carrying under his cloak,
+and which was big enough to feed an army. The secretary was so glad to
+see it that, although he had a very large and ugly mouth, he mincingly
+made it so small that one would not have thought him capable of biting
+the ham with it. He quickly took the pasty, and, without waiting for
+the merchant to go with him, went off with it to the lady, who was
+exceedingly eager to learn whether the fare of Gascony was as good as
+that of Paris.
+
+When supper-time was come and they were eating their soup, the secretary
+said--
+
+“Leave those savourless dishes alone, and let us taste this loveworthy
+whet for wine.”
+
+So saying, he opened the huge pasty, but, where he expected to find
+ham, he found such hardness that he could not thrust in his knife. After
+trying several times, it occurred to him that he had been deceived; and,
+indeed, he found ‘twas a wooden shoe such as is worn in Gascony. It had
+a burnt stick for knuckle, and was powdered upon the top with iron rust
+and sweet-smelling spice.
+
+If ever a man was abashed it was the secretary, not only because he had
+been deceived by the man whom he himself had thought to deceive, but
+also because he had deceived her to whom he had intended and thought
+to speak the truth. Moreover, he was much put out at having to content
+himself with soup for supper.
+
+The ladies, who were well-nigh as vexed as he was, would have accused
+him of practising this deception had they not clearly seen by his face
+that he was more wroth than they.
+
+After this slight supper, the secretary went away in great anger,
+intending, since Bernard du Ha had broken his promise, to break also his
+own. He therefore betook himself to the Lieutenant’s house, resolved to
+say the worst he could about the said Bernard.
+
+Quick as he went, however, Bernard was first afield and had already
+related the whole story to the Lieutenant, who, in passing sentence,
+told the secretary that he had now learnt to his cost what it was to
+deceive a Gascon, and this was all the comfort that the secretary got in
+his shame.
+
+The same thing befalls many who, believing that they are exceedingly
+clever, forget themselves in their cleverness; wherefore we should never
+do unto others differently than we would have them do unto us.
+
+“I can assure you,” said Geburon, “that I have often known similar
+things to come to pass, and have seen men who were deemed rustic
+blockheads deceive very shrewd people. None can be more foolish than
+he who thinks himself shrewd, nor wiser than he who knows his own
+nothingness.”
+
+“Still,” said Parlamente, “a man who knows that he knows nothing, knows
+something after all.”
+
+“Now,” said Simontault, “for fear lest time should fail us for our
+discourse, I give my vote to Nomerfide, for I am sure that her rhetoric
+will keep us no long while.”
+
+“Well,” she replied, “I will tell you a tale such as you desire.
+
+“I am not surprised, ladies, that love should afford Princes the means
+of escaping from danger, for they are bred up in the midst of so many
+well-informed persons that I should marvel still more if they were
+ignorant of anything. But the smaller the intelligence the more clearly
+is the inventiveness of love displayed, and for this reason I will
+relate to you a trick played by a priest through the prompting of love
+alone. In all other matters he was so ignorant that he could scarcely
+read his mass.”
+
+[Illustration: 183.jpg Tailpiece]
+
+[Illustration: 185a.jpg The Husbandman surprised by the Fall of the Winnowing Fan]
+
+[The Husbandman surprised by the Fall of the Winnowing Fan]
+
+[Illustration: 185.jpg Page Image]
+
+
+
+
+_TALE XXIX_.
+
+     _A parson, surprised by the sudden return of a husbandman
+     with whose wife he was making good cheer, quickly devised a
+     means for saving himself at the expense of the worthy man,
+     who was never any the wiser_. (1)
+
+     1  Etienne brings this story into his _Apologie pour
+     Hérodote_, ch xv.--B. J.
+
+At a village called Carrelles, (2) in the county of Maine, there dwelt
+a rich husbandman who in his old age had married a fair young wife. She
+bore him no children, but consoled herself for this disappointment with
+several lovers.
+
+     2 Carrelles is at six leagues from Mayenne, in the canton of
+     Gorron. Margaret’s first husband, the Duke of Alençon, held
+     various fiefs in this part of Maine, which would account for
+     the incident related in the story coming to her knowledge.--
+     M. and Ed.
+
+When gentlemen and persons of consequence failed her, she turned as a
+last resource to the Church, and took for companion in her sin him who
+could absolve her of it--that is to say, the parson, who often came to
+visit his pet ewe. The husband, who was dull and old, had no suspicion
+of the truth; but, as he was a stern and sturdy man, his wife played
+her game as secretly as she was able, fearing that, if it came to her
+husband’s knowledge, he would kill her.
+
+One day when he was abroad, his wife, thinking that he would not soon
+return, sent for his reverence the parson, who came to confess her; and
+while they were making good cheer together, her husband arrived, and
+this so suddenly that the priest had not the time to escape out of the
+house.
+
+Looking about for a means of concealment, he mounted by the woman’s
+advice into a loft, and covered the trap-door through which he passed
+with a winnowing fan.
+
+The husband entered the house, and his wife, fearing lest he might
+suspect something, regaled him exceedingly well at dinner, never sparing
+the liquor, of which he drank so much, that, being moreover wearied with
+his work in the fields, he at last fell asleep in his chair in front of
+the fire.
+
+The parson, tired with waiting so long in the loft, and hearing no noise
+in the room beneath, leaned over the trap-door, and, stretching out his
+neck as far as he was able, perceived the goodman to be asleep. However,
+whilst he was looking at him, he leaned by mischance so heavily upon the
+fan, that both fan and himself tumbled down by the side of the sleeper.
+The latter awoke at the noise, but the priest was on his feet before the
+other had perceived him, and said--
+
+“There is your fan, my friend, and many thanks to you for it.”
+
+With these words he took to flight. The poor husbandman was in utter
+bewilderment.
+
+“What is this?” he asked of his wife. “‘Tis your fan, sweetheart,” she
+replied, “which the parson had borrowed, and has just brought back.”
+
+Thereupon in a grumbling fashion the goodman rejoined--
+
+“‘Tis a rude way of returning what one has borrowed, for I thought the
+house was coming down.”
+
+In this way did the parson save himself at the expense of the goodman,
+who discovered nothing to find fault with except the rudeness with which
+the fan had been returned.
+
+“The master, ladies, whom the parson served, saved him that time so that
+he might afterwards possess and torment him the longer.”
+
+“Do not imagine,” said Geburon, “that simple folk are more devoid of
+craft than we are; (3) nay, they have a still larger share. Consider the
+thieves and murderers and sorcerers and coiners, and all the people of
+that sort, whose brains are never at rest; they are all poor and of the
+class of artisans.”
+
+“I do not think it strange,” said Parlamente, “that they should have
+more craft than others, but rather that love should torment them amid
+their many toils, and that so gentle a passion should lodge in hearts so
+base.”
+
+“Madam,” replied Saffredent, “you know what Master Jehan de Mehun has
+said--
+
+     “Those clad in drugget love no less
+     Than those that wear a silken dress.” (4)
+
+     3  In MS. No. 1520 this passage runs--“that simple and
+     humble people are,” &c.--L.
+
+     4  This is a free rendering of lines 4925-6 of Méon’s
+     edition of the _Roman de la Rose_:--
+
+     “Aussy bien sont amourettes
+     Soubz bureau que soubz brunettes.”
+
+     _Bureau_, the same as _dure_, is a kind of drugget;
+     _brunette_ was a silken stuff very fashionable among the
+     French lords and ladies at the time of St. Louis. It was
+     doubtless of a brown hue.--B, J. and M.
+
+
+Moreover, the love of which the tale speaks is not such as makes one
+carry harness; for, while poor folk lack our possessions and honours,
+on the other hand they have their natural advantages more at their
+convenience than we. Their fare is not so dainty as ours, but their
+appetites are keener, and they live better on coarse bread than we do on
+delicacies. Their beds are not so handsome or so well appointed as ours,
+but their sleep is sounder and their rest less broken. They have no
+ladies pranked out and painted like those whom we idolise, but they take
+their pleasure oftener than we, without fear of telltale tongues, save
+those of the beasts and birds that see them. What we have they lack, and
+what we lack they possess in abundance.”
+
+“I pray you,” said Nomerfide, “let us now have done with this peasant
+and his wife, and let us finish the day’s entertainment before vespers.
+‘Tis Hircan shall bring it to an end.”
+
+“Truly,” said he, “I have kept in reserve as strange and pitiful a tale
+as ever you heard. And although it grieves me greatly to relate anything
+to the discredit of a lady, knowing, as I do, that men are malicious
+enough to blame the whole sex for the fault of one, yet the strangeness
+of the story prompts me to lay aside my fear. Perhaps, also, the
+discovery of one woman’s ignorance will make others wiser. And so I will
+fearlessly tell you the following tale.”
+
+[Illustration: 190.jpg Tailpiece]
+
+[Illustration: 191a.jpg The Young Gentleman embracing his Mother]
+
+[The Young Gentleman embracing his Mother]
+
+[Illustration: 191.jpg Page Image]
+
+
+
+
+_TALE XXX_.
+
+     _A young gentleman, of from fourteen to fifteen years of
+     age, thought to lie with one of his mother’s maids, but lay
+     with his mother herself; and she, in consequence thereof,
+     was, nine months afterwards, brought to bed of a daughter,
+     who, twelve or thirteen years later, was wedded by the son;
+     he being ignorant that she was his daughter and sister, and
+     she, that he was her father and brother_.(1)
+
+In the time of King Louis the Twelfth, the Legate at Avignon being then
+a scion of the house of Amboise, nephew to George, Legate of France, (2)
+there lived in the land of Languedoc a lady who had an income of more
+than four thousand ducats a year, and whose name I shall not mention for
+the love I bear her kinsfolk.
+
+     1  This story is based on an ancient popular tradition
+     common to many parts of France, and some particulars of
+     which, with a list of similar tales in various European
+     languages, will be found in the Appendix, D.--En.
+
+     2  The Papal Legate in France here alluded to is the famous
+     George, Cardinal d’Amboise, favourite minister of Louis XII.
+     His nephew, the Legate at Avignon, is Louis d’Amboise,
+     fourth son of Peter d’Amboise, Lord of Chaumont, and brother
+     of the Grand-Master of Chaumont. Louis d’Amboise became
+     bishop of Albi, and lieutenant-general of the King of France
+     in Burgundy, Languedoc and Roussillon, and played an
+     important part in the public affairs of his time. He died in
+     1505.--See _Gallia Christiana_, vol. i. p. 34.--L. and R. J.
+
+While still very young, she was left a widow with one son; and, both
+by reason of her regret for her husband and her love for her child, she
+determined never to marry again. To avoid all opportunity of doing
+so, she had fellowship only with the devout, for she imagined that
+opportunity makes the sin, not knowing that sin will devise the
+opportunity.
+
+This young widow, then, gave herself up wholly to the service of God,
+and shunned all worldly assemblies so completely that she scrupled to
+be present at a wedding, or even to listen to the organs playing in a
+church. When her son was come to the age of seven years, she chose for
+his schoolmaster a man of holy life, so that he might be trained up in
+all piety and devotion.
+
+When the son was reaching the age of fourteen or fifteen, Nature, who is
+a very secret schoolmaster, finding him in good condition and very idle,
+taught him a different lesson to any he had learned from his tutor.
+He began to look at and desire such things as he deemed beautiful, and
+among others a maiden who slept in his mother’s room. No one had
+any suspicion of this, for he was looked upon as a mere child, and,
+moreover, in that household nothing save godly talk was ever heard.
+
+This young gallant, however, began secretly soliciting the girl, who
+complained of it to her mistress. The latter had so much love for her
+son and so high an opinion of him, that she thought the girl spoke as
+she did in order to make her hate him; but, being strongly urged by the
+other, she at last said--
+
+“I shall find out whether it is true, and will punish him if it be
+as you say. But if, on the other hand, you are bringing an untruthful
+accusation against him, you shall suffer for it.”
+
+Then, in order to test the matter, she bade the girl make an appointment
+with her son that he might come and lie with her at midnight, in the bed
+in which she slept alone, beside the door of his mother’s room.
+
+The maid obeyed her mistress, who, when night came, took the girl’s
+place, resolved, if the story were true, to punish her son so severely
+that he would never again lie with a woman without remembering it.
+
+While she was thinking thus wrathfully, her son came and got into the
+bed, but although she beheld him do so, she could not yet believe that
+he meditated any unworthy deed. She therefore refrained from speaking
+to him until he had given her some token of his evil intent, for no
+trifling matters could persuade her that his desire was actually a
+criminal one. Her patience, however, was tried so long, and her nature
+proved so frail that, forgetting her motherhood, her anger became
+transformed into an abominable delight. And just as water that has been
+restrained by force rushes onward with the greater vehemence when it is
+released, so was it with this unhappy lady who had so prided herself on
+the constraint she had put upon her body. After taking the first step
+downwards to dishonour, she suddenly found herself at the bottom, and
+thus that night she became pregnant by him whom she had thought to
+restrain from acting in similar fashion towards another.
+
+No sooner was the sin accomplished than such remorse of conscience began
+to torment her as filled the whole of her after-life with repentance.
+And so keen was it at the first, that she rose from beside her son--who
+still thought that she was the maid--and entered a closet, where,
+dwelling upon the goodness of her intention and the wickedness of its
+execution, she spent the whole night alone in tears and lamentation.
+
+But instead of humbling herself, and recognising the powerlessness
+of our flesh, without God’s assistance, to work anything but sin, she
+sought by her own tears and efforts to atone for the past, and by her
+own prudence to avoid mischief in the future, always ascribing her sin
+to circumstances and not to wickedness, for which there is no remedy
+save the grace of God. Accordingly she sought to act so as never again
+to fall into such wrongdoing; and as though there were but one sin that
+brought damnation in its train, she put forth all her strength to shun
+that sin alone.
+
+But the roots of pride, which acts of sin ought rather to destroy,
+grew stronger and stronger within her, so that in avoiding one evil she
+wrought many others. Early on the morrow, as soon as it was light, she
+sent for her son’s preceptor, and said--
+
+“My son is beginning to grow up, it is time to send him from home. I
+have a kinsman, Captain Monteson, (3) who is beyond the mountains with
+my lord the Grand-Master of Chaumont, and he will be very glad to admit
+him into his company. Take him, therefore, without delay, and to spare
+me the pain of parting do not let him come to bid me farewell.”
+
+     3  Monteson was one of the bravest captains of his time; as
+     the comrade of Bayard, he greatly distinguished himself by
+     his intrepidity in Louis XII.’s Italian campaigns. Some
+     particulars concerning him will be found in M. Lacroix’s
+     edition of _Les Chroniques de Jean d’Anton_.--B. J.
+     Respecting the Grand-Master of Chaumont, also mentioned
+     above, see _ante_, vol ii., notes to Tale XIV.
+
+So saying, she gave him money for the journey, and that very morning
+sent the young man away, he being right glad of this, for, after
+enjoying his sweetheart, he asked nothing better than to set off to the
+wars.
+
+The lady continued for a great while in deep sadness and melancholy,
+and, but for the fear of God, had many a time longed that the unhappy
+fruit of her womb might perish. She feigned sickness, in order that she
+might wear a cloak and so conceal her condition; and having a bastard
+brother, in whom she had more trust than in any one else, and upon whom
+she had conferred many benefits, she sent for him when the time of
+her confinement was drawing nigh, told him her condition (but without
+mentioning her son’s part in it), and besought him to help her save her
+honour. This he did, and, a few days before the time when she expected
+to be delivered, he begged her to try a change of air and remove to his
+house, where she would recover her health more quickly than at home.
+Thither she went with but a very small following, and found there a
+midwife who had been summoned as for her brother’s wife, and who one
+night, without recognising her, delivered her of a fine little girl. The
+gentleman gave the child to a nurse, and caused it to be cared for as
+his own.
+
+After continuing there for a month, the lady returned in sound health
+to her own house, where she lived more austerely than ever in fasts and
+disciplines. But when her son was grown up, he sent to beg his mother’s
+permission to return home, as there was at that time no war in Italy.
+She, fearing lest she should fall again into the same misfortune, would
+not at first allow him, but he urged her so earnestly that at last she
+could find no reason for refusing him. However, she instructed him that
+he was not to appear before her until he was married to a woman whom he
+dearly loved; but to whose fortune he need give no heed, for it would
+suffice if she were of gentle birth.
+
+Meanwhile her bastard brother, finding that the daughter left in his
+charge had grown to be a tall maiden of perfect beauty, resolved to
+place her in some distant household where she would not be known, and
+by the mother’s advice she was given to Catherine, Queen of Navarre. (4)
+The maiden thus came to the age of twelve or thirteen years, and was so
+beautiful and virtuous that the Queen of Navarre had great friendship
+for her, and much desired to marry her to one of wealth and station.
+Being poor, however, she found no husband, though she had lovers enough
+and to spare.
+
+     4  This is Catherine, daughter of Gaston and sister of
+     Francis Phoebus de Foix. On her brother’s death, in 1483,
+     she became Queen of Navarre, Duchess of Nemours and Countess
+     of Foix and Bigorre, and in the following year espoused
+     John, eldest son of Alan, Sire d’Albret. Catherine at this
+     time was fourteen years old, and her husband, who by the
+     marriage became King of Navarre, was only one year her
+     senior. Their title to the crown was disputed by a dozen
+     pretenders, for several years they exercised but a
+     precarious authority, and eventually, in July 1512,
+     Ferdinand the Catholic despatched the Duke of Alva to
+     besiege Pamplona. On the fourth day of the siege John and
+     Catherine succeeded in escaping from their capital, which,
+     three days later, surrendered. Ferdinand, having sworn to
+     maintain the _fueros_, was thereupon acknowledged as
+     sovereign. However, it was only in 1516 that the former
+     rulers were expelled from Navarrese territory. “Had I been
+     Don Juan and you Donna Catherine,” said the Queen to her
+     pusillanimous husband, as they crossed the Pyrenees, “we
+     should not have lost our kingdom.” From this time forward
+     the d’Albrets, like their successors the Bourbons, were
+     sovereigns of Navarre in name only, for an attempt made in
+     1521 to reconquer the kingdom resulted in total failure, and
+     their dominions were thenceforth confined to Beam, Bigorre,
+     and Foix on the French side of the Pyrenees. Queen Catherine
+     died in 1517, aged 47, leaving several children, the eldest
+     of whom was Henry, Queen Margaret’s second husband.--M., B.
+     J., D. and Ed.
+
+Now it happened one day that the gentleman who was her unknown father
+came to the house of the Queen of Navarre on his way back from beyond
+the mountains, and as soon as he had set eyes on his daughter he fell
+in love with her, and having license from his mother to marry any woman
+that might please him, he only inquired whether she was of gentle birth,
+and, hearing that she was, asked her of the Queen in marriage. The Queen
+willingly consented, for she knew that the gentleman was not only rich
+and handsome, but worshipful to boot.
+
+When the marriage had been consummated, the gentleman again wrote to
+his mother, saying that she could no longer close her doors against him,
+since he was bringing with him as fair a daughter-in-law as she could
+desire. The lady inquired to whom he had allied himself, and found that
+it was to none other than their own daughter. Thereupon she fell into
+such exceeding sorrow that she nearly came by a sudden death, seeing
+that the more she had striven to hinder her misfortune, the greater had
+it thereby become.
+
+Not knowing what else to do, she went to the Legate of Avignon, to
+whom she confessed the enormity of her sin, at the same time asking
+his counsel as to how she ought to act. The Legate, to satisfy his
+conscience, sent for several doctors of theology, and laid the matter
+before them, without, however, mentioning any names; and their advice
+was that the lady should say nothing to her children, for they, being
+in ignorance, had committed no sin, but that she herself should continue
+doing penance all her life without allowing it to become known.
+
+Accordingly, the unhappy lady returned home, where not long afterwards
+her son and daughter-in-law arrived. And they loved each other so
+much that never were there husband and wife more loving, nor yet more
+resembling each other; for she was his daughter, his sister and his
+wife, while he was her father, her brother and her husband. And this
+exceeding love between them continued always; and the unhappy and deeply
+penitent lady could never see them in dalliance together without going
+apart to weep.
+
+“You see, ladies, what befalls those who think that by their own
+strength and virtue they may subdue Love and Nature and all the
+faculties that God has given them. It were better to recognise their own
+weakness, and instead of running a-tilt against such an adversary, to
+betake themselves to Him who is their true Friend, saying to Him in the
+words of the Psalmist, ‘Lord, I am afflicted very much; answer Thou for
+me.’” (5)
+
+     5  We have failed to find this sentence in the Psalms.
+     Probably the reference is to _Isaiah_ xxxviii. 14, “O Lord,
+     I am oppressed; undertake for me.”--Eu.
+
+“It were impossible,” said Oisille “to hear a stranger story than this.
+Methinks every man and woman should bend low in the fear of God, seeing
+that in spite of a good intention so much mischief came to pass.”
+
+“You may be sure,” said Parlamente, “that the first step a man takes in
+self-reliance, removes him so far from reliance upon God.”
+
+“A man is wise,” said Geburon, “when he knows himself to be his greatest
+enemy, and holds his own wishes and counsels in suspicion.”
+
+“Albeit the motive might seem to be a good and holy one,” said
+Longarine, “there were surely none, howsoever worthy in appearance, that
+should induce a woman to lie beside a man, whatever the kinship between
+them, for fire and tow may not safely come together.”
+
+“Without question,” said Ennasuite, “she must have been some
+self-sufficient fool, who, in her friar-like dreaming, deemed herself so
+saintly as to be incapable of sin, just as many of the Friars would have
+us believe that we can become, merely by our own efforts, which is an
+exceeding great error.”
+
+“Is it possible, Longarine,” asked Oisille, “that there are people
+foolish enough to hold such an opinion?”
+
+“They go further than that,” replied Longarine. “They say that we ought
+to accustom ourselves to the virtue of chastity; and in order to try
+their strength they speak with the prettiest women they can find and
+whom they like best, and by kissing and touching them essay whether
+their fleshly nature be wholly dead. When they find themselves stirred
+by such pleasure, they desist, and have recourse to fasts and grievous
+discipline. Then, when they have so far mortified their flesh that
+neither speech nor kiss has power to move them, they make trial of
+the supreme temptation, that, namely, of lying together and embracing
+without any lustfulness. (6) But for one who has escaped, so many have
+come to mischief, that the Archbishop of Milan, where this religious
+practice used to be carried on, (7) was obliged to separate them and
+place the women in convents and the men in monasteries.”
+
+     6  Robert d’Arbrissel, the founder of the abbey of
+     Fontevrault (see ante, p. 74), was accused of this
+     practice.--See the article Fontevraud in Desoer’s edition of
+     Bayle’s Dictionary, vi. 508, 519.--M.
+
+     7  Queen Margaret possibly refers to some incidents which
+     occurred at Milan in the early part of the fourteenth
+     century, when Matteo and Galeazzo Visconti ruled the city.
+     In Signor Tullio Dandolo’s work, _Sui xxiii. libri delta
+     Histories Patrice di Giuseppe Ripamonti ragionamento_
+     (Milano, 1856, pp. 52-60), will be found the story of a
+     woman of the people, Guglielmina, and her accomplice, Andrea
+     Saramita, who under some religious pretext founded a secret
+     society of females. The debauchery practised by its members
+     being discovered, Saramita was burnt alive, and
+     Guglielmina’s bones were disinterred and thrown into the
+     fire. The Bishop of Milan at this time (1296-1308) was
+     Francesco Fontana.--M.
+
+“Truly,” said Geburon, “it were the extremity of folly to seek to
+become sinless by one’s own efforts, and at the same time to seek out
+opportunities for sin.”
+
+“There are some,” said Saffredent, “who do the very opposite, and flee
+opportunities for sin as carefully as they are able; nevertheless,
+concupiscence pursues them. Thus the good Saint Jerome, after scourging
+and hiding himself in the desert, confessed that he could not escape
+from the fire that consumed his marrow. We ought, therefore, to
+recommend ourselves to God, for unless He uphold us by His power, we are
+greatly prone to fall.”
+
+“You do not notice what I do,” said Hircan. “While we were telling
+our stories, the monks behind the hedge here heard nothing of the
+vesper-bell; whereas, now that we have begun to speak about God, they
+have taken themselves off, and are at this moment ringing the second
+bell.”
+
+“We shall do well to follow them,” said Oisille, “and praise God for
+enabling us to spend this day in the happiest manner imaginable.”
+
+Hereat they rose and went to the church, where they piously heard
+vespers; after which they went to supper, discussing the discourses they
+had heard, and calling to mind divers adventures that had come to pass
+in their own day, in order to determine which of them were worthy to be
+recounted. And after spending the whole evening in gladness, they betook
+themselves to their gentle rest, hoping on the morrow to continue this
+pastime which was so agreeable to them.
+
+And so was the Third Day brought to an end.
+
+
+[Illustration: 204.jpg Tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX.
+
+
+
+
+A. (Tale XX., Page 21.)
+
+Brantôme alludes as follows to this tale, in the Fourth Discourse of his
+_Vies des Dames Galantes_:--
+
+“I knew a great lady whose plumpness was the subject of general talk
+both whilst she was a maid and when she became a wife, but she happened
+to lose her husband, and gave way to such extreme grief that she became
+as dry as a stick. Still she did not cease to enjoy herself to her
+heart’s content, with the assistance of one of her secretaries, and
+even so it is said of her cook. Nevertheless, she did not regain her
+plumpness, albeit the said cook, who was all grease and fat, should as
+it seems to me have made her stout again. Whilst she thus amused herself
+with one and another of her varlets, she affected more prudery and
+chastity than any other lady of the Court, having none but words
+of virtue on her lips, speaking ill of all other women and finding
+something to be censured in each of them. Very similar to this one was
+that great lady of Dauphiné who is mentioned in the Hundred Tales of
+the Queen of Navarre, and who was found, lying on the grass with her
+stableman or muleteer, by a gentleman who was in love with her to
+distraction. On finding her thus, however, he was speedily cured of his
+love-sickness.
+
+“I have read in an old romance about John de Saintré, printed in
+black-letter, that the late King John brought him up as a page.
+In the old times it was usual for great personages to send their pages
+about with messages, as is indeed done nowadays, but at that time they
+journeyed anywhere across country, on horseback. In fact, I have heard
+our fathers say that pages were often sent on little embassies, for very
+often a matter would be settled and expense saved by merely despatching
+a page with a horse and a piece of silver. This little Jehan de Saintré,
+as he was long called, was a great favourite with his master King John,
+for he was full of wit, and it often happened that he was sent with
+messages to his [the King’s?] sister, who was then a widow, though
+of whom the book does not say. This lady fell in love with him after
+several messages that he had delivered to her, and one day finding him
+alone, she engaged him in converse, and, according to the usual practice
+of ladies when they wish to engage any one in a love attack, she began
+to ask him if he were in love with any lady of the Court, and which one
+pleased him the most. This little John de Saintre, who had never even so
+much as thought of love, told her that he cared for none at the Court as
+yet, whereupon she mentioned several other ladies to him, and asked him
+whether he thought of them. ‘Still less,’ replied he.... Thereupon the
+lady, seeing that the young fellow was of good appearance, told him that
+she would give him a mistress who would love him tenderly if he would
+serve her well, and whilst he stood there feeling greatly ashamed,
+she made him promise that he would keep the matter secret, and finally
+declared to him that she herself wished to be his lady and lover, for
+at that time the word ‘mistress’ was not yet used. The young page was
+vastly astonished, thinking that the lady was joking, or wished to
+deceive him or to have him whipped. However, she soon showed him so many
+signs of the fire and fever of love, saying to him that she wished to
+tutor him and make a man of him, that he at last realised that it was
+not a jest. Their love lasted for a long time, both whilst he was a page
+and afterwards, until at length he had to go upon a long journey, when
+she replaced him by a big, fat abbot. This is the same story that one
+finds in the _Nouvelles du Monde Advantureux_ by a valet of the Queen of
+Navarre [Antoine de St. Denis], in which one sees the abbot insult
+this same John de Saintré who was so brave and valiant, and who right
+speedily and liberally paid back my lord the abbot in his own
+coin.... So you see it is no new thing for ladies to love pages. What
+inclinations some women have, they will willingly take any number of
+lovers but they want no husband! All this is through love of liberty,
+which they deem such a pleasant thing. It seems to them as though they
+were in Paradise when they are not under a husband’s rule. They have a
+fine dowry and spend it thriftily, they have all their household affairs
+in hand, receive their income, everything passing through their hands;
+and instead of being servants they are mistresses, select their
+own pleasures and favourites, and amuse themselves as much as they
+like.”--Lalanne’s _OEuvres de Brantôme_, vol. xi. pp. 703-6.
+
+
+
+
+
+B. (Tale XXV., Page 131.)
+
+Baron Jerome Pichon’s elucidations of this story, as given by him in the
+_Mélanges de la Société des Bibliophiles Français_, 1866, may be thus
+summarised:--
+
+The advocate referred to in the tale is James Disome, who Mézeray
+declares was the _first_ to introduce Letters to the bar, though this,
+to my mind, is a very hazardous assertion. Disome was twice married. His
+first wife, Mary de Rueil, died Sept. 17, 1511, and was buried at the
+Cordeliers church; he afterwards espoused Jane Lecoq, daughter of
+John Lecoq, Counsellor of the Paris Parliament, who held the fiefs
+of Goupillières, Corbeville and Les Porcherons, where he possessed a
+handsome château, a view of which has been engraved by Israel Silvestre.
+John Lecoq’s wife was Magdalen Bochart, who belonged like her husband to
+an illustrious family of lawyers and judges. Their daughter Jane, who is
+the heroine of the tale, must have been married to James Disome not very
+long after the death of the latter’s first wife, for her intrigue with
+Francis I. originated prior to his accession to the throne (1515). This
+is proved by the tale, in which Disome is spoken of as being the young
+prince’s advocate. Now none but the Procurors and Advocates-General were
+counsel to the Crown, and Disome held neither of those offices. He was
+undoubtedly advocate to Francis as Duke de Valois, and, from certain
+allusions in the tale, it may be conjectured that he had been advocate
+to Francis’s father, the Count of Angoulême.
+
+When Francis ascended the throne his intrigue with Jane Disome was
+already notorious, as is proved by this extract, under date 1515, from
+the _Journal d’un Bourgeois de Paris_: “About this time whilst the King
+was in Paris, there was a priest called Mons. Cruche, a great buffoon,
+who a little time before with several others had publicly performed
+in certain entertainments and novelties’ (_sic_) on scaffolds upon the
+Place Maubert, there being in turn jest, sermon, morality and farce; and
+in the morality appeared several lords taking their cloth of gold to the
+tomb and carrying their lands upon their shoulders into the other world.
+And in the farce came Monsieur Cruche with his companions, who had a
+lantern by which all sorts of things were seen, and among others a hen
+feeding under a salamander, (1) and this hen carried something on her
+back which would suffice to kill ten men (_dix hommes, i.e._, Disome).
+
+     1  The salamander was Francis I.’s device.
+
+The interpretation of this was that the King loved and enjoyed a
+woman of Paris, who was the daughter of a counsellor of the Court of
+Parliament, named Monsieur le Coq. And she was married to an advocate at
+the bar of Parliament, a very skilful man, named Monsieur James Disome,
+who was possessed of much property which the King confiscated. Soon
+afterwards the King sent eight or ten of his principal gentlemen to sup
+at the sign of the Castle in the Rue de la Juiverie, and thither, under
+the false pretence of making him play the said farce, was summoned
+Messire Cruche, who came in the evening, by torch-light, and was
+constrained to play the farce by the said gentlemen. But thereupon, at
+the very beginning, he was stripped to his shirt, and wonderfully well
+whipped with straps until he was in a state of the utmost wretchedness.
+At the end there was a sack all ready to put him in, that he might be
+thrown from the window, and then carried to the river; and this would
+assuredly have come to pass had not the poor man cried out very loudly
+and shown them the tonsure on his head. And all these things were done,
+so it was owned, on the King’s behalf.”
+
+It is probable that this intrigue between the King and Jane Disome
+ceased soon after the former’s accession; at all events Francis did not
+evince much indulgence for the man whose wife he had seduced. Under date
+April, 1518, the Journal dun Bourgeois de Paris mentions the arrest of
+several advocates and others for daring to discuss the question of the
+Pragmatic Sanction. Disome was implicated in the matter but appears to
+have escaped for a time; however in September of that year we find him
+detained at Orleans and subjected to the interrogatories of various
+royal Commissioners. The affair was then adjourned till the following
+year, when no further mention is made of it.
+
+Disome died prior to 1521, for in September of that year we find his
+wife remarried to Peter Perdrier, Lord of Baubigny, notary and secretary
+to the King, and subsequently clerk of the council to the city of Paris.
+Perdrier was a man of considerable means; for when the King raised a
+forced loan of silver plate in September 1521, we find him taxed to the
+amount of forty marcs of silver (26 1/2 lbs. troy); or only ten _marcs_
+less than each counsellor of Parliament was required to contribute. Five
+and twenty years later, he lost his wife Jane, the curious record
+of whose death runs as follows: “The year one thousand five hundred
+forty-six, after Easter, at her house (hôtel) Rue de la Parcheminerie,
+called Rue des Blancs-Manteaux, died the late Demoiselle Jane Lecoq,
+daughter of Master John Lecoq, Counsellor of the Court of Parliament,
+deceased; in her lifetime wife of noble Master Peter Perdrier, Lord of
+Baubigny, &c, and previously wife of the late Master James Disome, in
+his lifetime advocate at the Court of Parliament and Lord of Cernay in
+Beauvaisis; and the said Demoiselle Jane Lecoq (2) is here--buried with
+her father and mother, and departed this life on the 23rd day of April
+1546. Pray ye God for her soul.”
+
+     2  The church of the Celestines.
+
+Less than a twelvemonth afterwards King Francis followed his whilom
+mistress to the tomb. She left by Peter Perdrier a son named John, Lord
+of Baubigny, who in 1558 married Anne de St. Simon, grand-aunt of the
+author of the Memoirs. John Perdrier was possibly the Baubigny who
+killed Marshal de St. André at the battle of Dreux in 1562.
+
+Such is Baron Pichon’s account of Jane Lecoq and her husbands. We have
+now to turn to an often-quoted passage of the _Diverses Leçons_ of Louis
+Guyon, sieur de la Nauthe, a physician of some repute in his time, but
+whose book it should be observed was not issued till 1610, or more than
+half-a-century subsequent to King Francis I.’s death. La Nauthe writes
+as follows:--
+
+“Francis I. became enamoured of a woman of great beauty and grace, the
+wife of an advocate of Paris, whom I will not name, for he has left
+children in possession of high estate and good repute; and this lady
+would not yield to the King, but on the contrary repulsed him with many
+harsh words, whereat the King was sorely vexed. And certain courtiers
+and royal princes who knew of the matter told the King that he might
+take her authoritatively and by virtue of his royalty, and one of them
+even went and told this to the lady, who repeated it to her husband.
+The advocate clearly perceived that he and his wife must needs quit
+the kingdom, and that he would indeed find it hard to escape without
+obeying. Finally the husband gave his wife leave to comply with the
+King’s desire, and in order that he might be no hindrance in the matter,
+he pretended to have business in the country for eight or ten days;
+during which time, however, he remained concealed in Paris, frequenting
+the brothels and trying to contract a venereal disease in order to
+give it to his wife, so that the King might catch it from her; and he
+speedily found what he sought, and infected his wife and she the King,
+who gave it to several other women, whom he kept, and could never get
+thoroughly cured, for all the rest of his life he remained unhealthy,
+sad, peevish and inaccessible.”
+
+Brantôme, it may be mentioned, also speaks of the King contracting a
+complaint through his gallantries, and declares that it shortened his
+life, but he mentions no woman by name, and does not tell the story of
+the advocate’s wife. It will have been observed in the extract we have
+quoted that Guyon de la Nauthe says that the advocate had left children
+“in possession of high estate and good repute.” Disome, however, had no
+children either by his first or his second wife. The question therefore
+arises whether La Nauthe is not referring to another advocate, for
+instance Le Féron, husband of La belle Féronnière. These would appear to
+have left posterity (see _Catalogue de tous les Conseillers du Parlement
+de Paris_, pp. 120-2-3, and Blanchard’s _les Présidents à mortier du
+Parlement de Paris, etc_., 1647, 8vo). But it should be borne in mind
+that the Féronnière intrigue is purely traditional. The modern writers
+who speak of it content themselves with referring to Mézeray, a very
+doubtful authority at most times, and who did not write, it should be
+remembered, till the middle of the seventeenth century, his _Abrégé
+Chronologique_ being first published in 1667. Moreover, when we come
+to consult him we find that he merely makes a passing allusion to La
+Féronnière, and even this is of the most dubious kind. Here are his
+words: “In 1538 the King had a long illness at Compiègne, caused by an
+ulcer.... He was cured at the time, but died [of it?] nine years later.
+_I have sometimes heard say_(!) that he caught this disease from La
+belle Féronnière.”
+
+Against this we have to set the express statement of Louise of Savoy,
+who writes in her journal, under date 1512, that her son (born in 1494)
+had already and at an early age had a complaint _en secrete nature_. Now
+this was long before the belle Féronnière was ever heard of, and further
+it was prior to the intrigue with Jane Disome, who, by Queen Margaret’s
+showing, did not meet with “the young prince” until she had been married
+some time and was in despair of having children by her husband. The
+latter had lost his first wife late in 1511, and it is unlikely that he
+married Jane Lecoq until after some months of widowhood. To our thinking
+Prince Francis would have appeared upon the scene in or about 1514,
+his intrigue culminating in the scandal of the following year, in
+which Mons. Cruche played so conspicuous a part. With reference to the
+complaint from which King Francis is alleged to have suffered, one must
+not overlook the statement of a contemporary, Cardinal d’Armagnac, who,
+writing less than a year before the King’s death, declares that Francis
+enjoys as good health as any man in his kingdom (Genin’s _Lettres de
+Marguerite_, 1841, p. 473). Cardinal d’Armagnac’s intimacy with the
+King enabled him to speak authoritatively, and his statement refutes the
+assertions of Brantôme, Guyon de la Nauthe and Mézeray, besides tending
+to the conclusion that the youthful complaint mentioned by Louise of
+Savoy was merely a passing disorder.--Ed.
+
+
+
+
+C. (Tale XXVI., Page 143.)
+
+Brantome mentions this tale in both the First and the Fourth Discourse
+of his _Dames Galantes_. In the former, after contending that all women
+are naturally inclined to vice--a view which he borrows from the _Roman
+de la Rose_, and which Pope afterwards re-echoed in the familiar line,
+“Every woman is at heart a rake”--he proceeds to speak of those who
+overcome their inclinations and remain virtuous:--
+
+“Of this,” says he, “we have a very fine story in the Hundred Tales of
+the Queen of Navarre; the one in which that worthy Lady of Pampeluna,
+vicious at heart and by inclination, burning too with love for that
+handsome Prince, Monsieur d’Avannes, preferred to die consumed by the
+fire that possessed her rather than seek a remedy for it, as she
+herself declared in her last words on her deathbed. This worshipful and
+beautiful lady dealt herself death most iniquitously and unjustly; and
+as I once heard a worthy man and worthy lady say of this very passage,
+she did really offend against God, since it was in her power to deliver
+herself from death; whereas in seeking it and advancing it as she did,
+she really killed herself. And thus have done many similar to her,
+who by excessive continence and abstinence have brought about the
+destruction both of their souls and bodies.”--Lalanne’s _OEuvres de
+Brantôme_, vol. ix. pp. 209-n.
+
+In the Fourth Discourse of his work, Brantôme mentions the case of a
+“fresh and plump” lady of high repute, who, through love-sickness for
+one of her admirers, so wasted away that she became seriously alarmed,
+and for fear of worse resolved to satisfy her passion, whereupon she
+became “plump and beautiful as she had been before.”
+
+“I have heard speak,” adds Brantôme, “of another very great lady, of
+very joyous humour, and great wit, who fell ill and whose doctor told
+her that she would never recover unless she yielded to the dictates of
+nature, whereupon she instantly rejoined: ‘Well then, let it be so;’ and
+she and the doctor did as they listed.... One day she said to him: ‘It
+is said everywhere that you have relations with me; but that is all the
+same to me, since it keeps me in good health... and it shall continue
+so, as long as may be, since my health depends on it.’ These two ladies
+in no wise resemble that worthy lady of Pampeluna, in the Queen of
+Navarre’s Hundred Tales, who, as I have previously said, fell madly in
+love with Monsieur d’Avannes, but preferred to hide her flame and nurse
+it in her burning breast rather than forego her honour. And of this I
+have heard some worthy ladies and lords discourse, saying that she was
+a fool, caring but little for the salvation of her soul, since she dealt
+herself death, when it was in her power to drive death away, at very
+trifling cost.”--Lalanne’s _OEuvres de Brantôme_, vol. xi. pp. 542-5.
+
+To these extracts we may add that the problem discussed by Brantôme,
+three hundred years ago, is much the same as that which has so largely
+occupied the attention of modern medical men, namely the great spread
+of nervous disease and melancholia among women, owing to the unnatural
+celibacy enforced upon them by the deficiency of husbands.--Ed.
+
+
+
+
+
+D. (Tale XXX., Page 191).
+
+Various French, English and Italian authors have written imitations of
+this tale, concerning which Dunlop writes as follows in his History of
+Fiction:--
+
+“The plot of Bandello’s thirty-fifth story is the same as that of Horace
+Walpole’s comedy _The Mysterious Mother_, and of the Queen of Navarre’s
+thirtieth tale. The earlier portion will be found also in Masuccio’s
+twenty-third tale: but the second part, relating to the marriage, occurs
+only in Bandello’s work and the _Heptameron_. It is not likely, however,
+that the French or the Italian novelist borrowed from one another. The
+tales of Bandello were first published in 1554, and as the Queen of
+Navarre died in 1549, it is improbable that she ever had an opportunity
+of seeing them. On the other hand, the work of the Queen was not printed
+till 1558, nine years after her death, so it is not likely that any part
+of it was copied by Bandello, whose tales had been edited some years
+before.”
+
+Walpole, it may be mentioned, denied having had any knowledge either of
+the _Heptameron_ or of Bandello when he wrote _The Mysterious Mother_,
+which was suggested to him, he declared, by a tale he had heard when
+very young, of a lady who had waited on Archbishop Tillotson with a
+story similar to that which is told by Queen Margaret’s heroine to
+the Legate of Avignon. According to Walpole, Tillotson’s advice was
+identical with that given by the Legate.
+
+Dunlop mentions that a tale of this character is given in Byshop’s
+_Blossoms_ (vol. xi.); and other authors whose writings contain similar
+stories are: Giovani Brevio, _Rime e Prose vulgari_, Roma, 1545 (Novella
+iv.); Desfontaine’s _L’Inceste innocent, histoire véritable_, Paris,
+1644 5 Tommaso Grappulo, or Grappolino, _Il Convito Borghesiano_,
+Londra, 1800 (Novella vii.); Luther, _Colloquia Mens alia_ (article on
+auricular confession); and Masuccio de Solerac, _Novellino_, Ginevra,
+1765 (Novella xxiii.).
+
+Curiously enough, Bandello declares that the story was related to him by
+a lady of Navarre (Queen Margaret?) as having occurred in that country,
+while Julio de Medrano, a Spanish author of the sixteenth century,
+asserts that it was told to him in the Bourbonnais as being actual fact,
+and that he positively saw the house where the lady’s son and his wife
+resided; but on the other hand we find the tale related, in its broad
+lines, in _Amadis de Gaule_ as being an old-time legend, and in proof of
+this, it figures in an ancient French poem of the life of St. Gregory,
+the MS. of which still exists at Tours, and was printed in 1854.
+
+In support of the theory that the tale is based on actual fact, the
+following passage from Millin’s _Antiquités Nationales_ (vol. iii. f.
+xxviii. p. 6) is quoted--
+
+“In the middle of the nave of the collégial church of Ecouis, in the
+cross aisle, was found a white marble slab on which was inscribed this
+epitaph:--
+
+     “Hore lies the child, here lies the father,
+     Here lies the sister, here lies the brother,
+     Here lie the wife and the husband,
+     Yet there are but two bodies here.”
+
+“The tradition is that a son of Madame d’Écouis had by his mother,
+without knowing her or being recognised by her, a daughter named
+Cecilia, whom he afterwards married in Lorraine, she then being in the
+service of the Duchess of Bar. Thus Cecilia was at one and the same time
+her husband’s daughter, sister and wife. They were interred together in
+the same grave at Écouis in 1512.”
+
+According to Millin, a similar tradition will be found with variations
+in different parts of France. For instance, at the church of Alincourt,
+a village between Amiens and Abbeville, there was to be seen in Millin’s
+time an epitaph running as follows:--
+
+     “Here lies the son, here lies the mother,
+     Here lies the daughter with the father;
+     Here lies the sister, here lies the brother,
+     Here lie the wife and the husband;
+     And there are only three bodies here.”
+
+Gaspard Meturas, it may be added, gives the same epitaph in his _Hortus
+Epitaphiomm Selectorum_, issued in 1648, but declares that it is to be
+found at Clermont in Auvergne--a long way from Amiens--and explains it
+by saying that the mother engendered her husband by intercourse with her
+own father; whence it follows that he was at the same time her husband,
+son and brother.--L. M. and Ed.
+
+End of vol. III.
+
+LONDON: PRINTED FOR THE SOCIETY OF ENGLISH BIBLIOPHILISTS
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. III.
+(of V.), by Margaret, Queen Of Navarre
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALES OF THE HEPTAMERON ***
+
+***** This file should be named 17703-0.txt or 17703-0.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17703/
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project
+Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation”
+ or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project
+Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right
+of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’ WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm’s
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.
+
+The Foundation’s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation’s web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.