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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/17705-0.txt b/17705-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..19d508b --- /dev/null +++ b/17705-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6352 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. V. (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. V. (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 #17705] +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 FIFTH + +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 V. + +SIXTH DAY. + + + +Prologue + +Tale LI. Cruelty of the Duke of Urbino, who, contrary to the promise +he had given to the Duchess, hanged a poor lady that had consented to +convey letters to his son’s sweetheart, the sister of the Abbot of Farse. + +Tale LII. Merry trick played by the varlet of an apothecary at Alençon +on the Lord de la Tirelière and the lawyer Anthony Bacheré, who, +thinking to breakfast at his expense, find that they have stolen from +him something very different to a loaf of sugar. + +Tale LIII. Story of the Lady of Neufchâtel, a widow at the Court of +Francis I., who, through not admitting that she has plighted her troth +to the Lord des Cheriots, plays him an evil trick through the means of +the Prince of Belhoste. + +Tale LIV. Merry adventure of a serving-woman and a gentleman named +Thogas, whereof his wife has no suspicion. + +Tale LV. The widow of a merchant of Saragossa, not wishing to lose the +value of a horse, the price of which her husband had ordered to be given +to the poor, devises the plan of selling the horse for one ducat only, +adding, however, to the bargain a cat at ninety-nine. + +Tale LVI. Notable deception practised by an old Grey Friar of Padua, +who, being charged by a widow to find a husband for her daughter, did, +for the sake of getting the dowry, cause her to marry a young Grey +Friar, his comrade, whose condition, however, was before long discovered. + +Tale LVII. Singular behaviour of an English lord, who is content merely +to keep and wear upon his doublet the glove of a lady whom he loves. + +Tale LVIII. A lady at the Court of Francis I., wishing to prove that +she has no commerce with a certain gentleman who loves her, gives him a +pretended tryst and causes him to pass for a thief. + +Tale LIX. Story of the same lady, who, learning that her husband is in +love with her waiting-woman, contrives to surprise him and impose her +own terms upon him. + +Tale LX. A man of Paris, thinking his wife to be well and duly deceased, +marries again, but at the end of fifteen years is forced to take his +first wife back, although she has been living meantime with one of the +chanters of Louis XII. + + +SEVENTH DAY. + +Prologue + +Tale LXI. Great kindness of a husband, who consents to take back his +wife twice over, spite of her wanton love for a Canon of Autun. + +Tale LXII. How a lady, while telling a story as of another, let her +tongue trip in such a way as to show that what she related had happened +to herself. + +Tale LXIII. How the honourable behaviour of a young lord, who feigns +sickness in order to be faithful to his wife, spoils a party in which he +was to have made one with the King, and in this way saves the honour of +three maidens of Paris. + +Tale LXIV. Story of a gentleman of Valencia in Spain, whom a lady drove +to such despair that he became a monk, and whom afterwards she strove in +vain to win back to herself. + +Tale LXV. Merry mistake of a worthy woman, who in the church of St. John +of Lyons mistakes a sleeping soldier for one of the statues on a tomb, +and sets a lighted candle on his forehead. + +Tale LXVI. How an old serving-woman, thinking to surprise a Prothonotary +with a lady, finds herself insulting Anthony de Bourbon and his wife +Jane d’Albret. + +Tale LXVII. How the Sire de Robertval, granting a traitor his life at +the prayers of the man’s wife, set them both down on a desert island, +and how, after the husband’s death, the wife was rescued and brought +back to La Rochelle. + +Tale LXVIII. The wife of an apothecary at Pau, hearing her husband give +some powder of cantharides to a woman who was godmother with himself, +secretly administered to him such a dose of the same drug that he nearly +died. + +Tale LXIX. How the wife of one of the King’s Equerries surprised her +husband muffled in the hood of their servant-maid, and bolting meal in +her stead. + +Tale LXX. Of the love of a Duchess of Burgundy for a gentleman who +rejects her advances, for which reason she accuses him to the Duke her +husband, and the latter does not believe his oaths till assured by +him that he loves the Lady du Vergier. Then the Duchess, having drawn +knowledge of this amour from her husband, addresses to the Lady du +Vergier in public, an allusion that causes the death of both lovers; and +the Duke, in despair at his own lack of discretion, stabs the Duchess +himself. + + +EIGHTH DAY. + +Prologue + +Tale LXXI. The wife of a saddler of Amboise is saved on her deathbed +through a fit of anger at seeing her husband fondle a servant-maid. + +Tale LXXII. Kindness of the Duchess of Alençon to a poor nun whom she +meets at Lyons, on her way to Rome, there to confess to the Pope how a +monk had wronged her, and to obtain his Holiness’s pardon. + +Appendix (The Narrators of the Heptameron) + +Bibliography + + + + +PAGE ENGRAVINGS CONTAINED IN VOLUME V. + + +Tale LI. The Duke of Urbino sending the Maiden to Prison for carrying +Messages between his Son and his Sweetheart. + +LII. The Gentleman and his Friend annoyed by The Smell of that which +they Thought was Sugar. + +LIII. The Lord des Cheriots flying from the Prince’s Servant. + +LIV. The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing. + +LV. The Servant selling the Horse with the Cat. + +LVI. The Grey Friar introducing his Comrade to the Lady and her +Daughter. + +LVII. The English Lord seizing the Lady’s Glove. + +LVIII. The Gentleman Mocked by the Ladies When Returning From The False +Tryst. + +LIX. The Lady discovering her Husband with the Waiting-woman. + +LX. The Chanter of Blois delivering his Mistress from the Grave. + +LXI. The Lady returning to her Lover, the Canon of Autun. + +LXII. The Gentleman’s Spur catching in the Sheet. + +LXIII. The King asking the Young Lord to join his Banquet. + +LXIV. The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of Valencia who had +become a Monk. + +LXV. The Old Woman startled by the Waking of the Soldier. + +LXVI. The Old Serving-woman explaining her Mistake to the Duke and +Duchess of Vendôme. + +LXVII. The Wife Reading to her Husband on the Desert Island. + +LXVIII. The Apothecary’s Wife giving the Dose of Cantharides to her +Husband. + +LXIX. The Wife discovering her Husband in the Hood of their +Serving-maid. + +LXX. The Gentleman Killing Himself on the Death of his Mistress. + +LXXI. The Saddler’s Wife Cured by the sight of her Husband Caressing the +Serving-maid. + +LXXII. The Monk Conversing with the Nun while Shrouding a Dead Body. + + + + +SIXTH DAY. + +_On the Sixth Day are related the deceits practised +by Man on Woman, Woman on Man, or +Woman on Woman, through +greed, revenge, and +wickedness_. + + + + +PROLOGUE. + +In the morning the Lady Oisille went earlier than was her wont to make +ready for her reading in the hall, but the company being advised of +this, and eager to hearken to her excellent instruction, used such +despatch in dressing themselves that she had not long to wait. +Perceiving their fervour, she set about reading them the Epistle of St. +John the Evangelist, which is full of naught but love, in the same wise +as, on the foregoing days, she had expounded to them St. Paul’s Epistle +to the Romans. The company found this fare so much to their taste, that, +although they tarried a half-hour longer than on the other days, it +seemed to them as if they had not remained there a quarter of an hour +altogether. From thence they proceeded to the contemplation of the mass, +when one and all commended themselves to the Holy Ghost in order that +they might that day be enabled to satisfy their merry audience; and, +after they had broken their fast and taken a little rest, they set out +to resume their accustomed diversion. + +And the Lady Oisille asking who should begin the day, Longarine made +answer-- + +“I give my vote to Madame Oisille; she has this day read to us so +beauteous a lesson, that she can but tell us some story apt to crown the +glory which she won this morning.” + +“I am sorry,” said Oisille, “that I cannot tell you aught so profitable +this afternoon as I did in the morning. But at least the purport of my +story shall not depart from the teaching of Holy Scripture, where it is +written, ‘Trust not in princes, nor in the sons of men, in whom is not +our salvation.’ (1) And that this truth may not be forgotten by you for +lack of an example, I will tell you a tale which is quite true, and the +memory of which is so fresh that the eyes of those that saw the piteous +sight are scarcely yet dried.” + +[Illustration: 005a.jpg The Duke of Urbino sending the Maiden to Prison for carrying +Messages between his Son and his Sweetheart] + +[The Duke of Urbino sending the Maiden to Prison for carrying +Messages between his Son and his Sweetheart] + +[Illustration: 005.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LI_. + + _Because he would not have his son make a poor marriage, the + Duke of Urbino, contrary to the promise given to his wife, + hanged a young maiden by whom his son was wont to inform his + sweetheart of the love he bore her_. + +The Duke of Urbino, called the Prefect, (1) the same that married the +sister of the first Duke of Mantua, had a son of between eighteen and +twenty years of age, who was in love with a girl of an excellent and +honourable house, sister to the Abbot of Farse. (2) And since, according +to the custom of the country, he was not free to converse with her as +he wished, he obtained the aid of a gentleman in his service, who was in +love with a very beautiful and virtuous young damsel in the service of +his mother. By means of this damsel he informed his sweetheart of the +deep affection that he bore her; and the poor girl, thinking no harm, +took pleasure in doing him service, believing his purpose to be so good +and virtuous that she might honourably be the carrier of his intentions. +But the Duke, who had more regard for the profit of his house than +for any virtuous affection, was in such great fear lest these dealings +should lead his son (3) into marriage, that he caused a strict watch +to be kept; whereupon he was informed that the poor damsel had been +concerned in carrying some letters from his son to the lady he loved. On +hearing this he was in great wrath, and resolved to take the matter in +hand. + + 1 This is Francesco Maria I., della Rovere, nephew to Pope + Julius II., by whom he was created Prefect of Rome. Brought + up at the French Court, he became one of the great captains + of the period, especially distinguishing himself in the + command of the Venetian forces during the earlier part of + his career. He married Leonora Ypolita Gonzaga, daughter of + Francesco II., fourth Marquis of Mantua, respecting whom see + _ante_, vol. iii., notes to Tale XIX. It was Leonora rather + than her husband who imparted lustre to the Court of Urbino + at this period by encouraging arts and letters. Among those + who flourished there were Raffaelle and Baldassare + Castiglione. Francesco Maria, born in March 1491, died in + 1538 from the effects--so it is asserted by several + contemporary writers--of a poisonous lotion which a Mantuan + barber had dropped into his ear. His wife, who bore him two + sons (see post, note 3), died at the age of 72, in 1570.--L. + and Ed. + + 2 The French words are _Abbé de Farse_. Farse would appear + to be a locality, as abbots were then usually designated by + the names of their monasteries; still it may be intended for + the Abbot’s surname, and some commentators, adopting this + view, have suggested that the proper reading would be + Farnese.--Ed. + + 3 The Duke’s two sons were Federigo, born in March 1511, + and Guidobaldo, born in April 1514. The former according to + all authorities died when “young,” and probably long before + reaching man’s estate. Dennistoun, in his searching _Memoirs + of the Dukes of Urbino_ (London, 1851), clearly shows that + for many years prior to Francesco Maria’s death his second + son Guidobaldo was the only child remaining to him. Already + in 1534, when but twenty years old, Guidobaldo was regarded + as his father’s sole heir and successor. In that year + Francesco Maria forced the young man to marry Giulia Varana, + a child of eleven, in order that he might lay claim to her + father’s state of Camerino and annex it to the duchy. There + is no record of Guidobaldo having ever engaged in any such + intrigue as related by Queen Margaret in the above tale, + still it must be to him that she refers, everything pointing + to the conclusion that his brother Federigo died in + childhood. Guidobaldo became Duke of Urbino on his father’s + death.--Ed. + +He could not, however, conceal his anger so well that the maiden was +not advised of it, and knowing his wickedness, which was in her eyes +as great as his conscience was small, she felt a wondrous dread. Going +therefore to the Duchess, she craved leave to retire somewhere out of +the Duke’s sight until his passion should be past; but her mistress +replied that, before giving her leave to do so, she would try to find +out her husband’s will in the matter. + +Very soon, however, the Duchess heard the Duke’s evil words concerning +the affair, and, knowing his temper, she not only gave the maiden leave, +but advised her to retire into a convent until the storm was over. This +she did as secretly as she could, yet not so stealthily but that the +Duke was advised of it. Thereupon, with pretended cheerfulness of +countenance, he asked his wife where the maiden was, and she, believing +him to be well aware of the truth, confessed it to him. He feigned to +be vexed thereat, saying that the girl had no need to behave in that +fashion, and that for his part he desired her no harm. And he requested +his wife to cause her to come back again, since it was by no means well +to have such matters noised abroad. + +The Duchess replied that, if the poor girl was so unfortunate as to have +lost his favour, it were better for a time that she should not come +into his presence; however, he would not hearken to her reasonings, but +commanded her to bid the maiden return. + +The Duchess failed not to make the Duke’s will known to the maiden; but +the latter, who could not but feel afraid, entreated her mistress that +she might not be compelled to run this risk, saying that she knew the +Duke was not so ready to forgive her as he feigned to be. Nevertheless, +the Duchess assured her that she should take no hurt, and pledged her +own life and honour for her safety. + +The girl, who well knew that her mistress loved her, and would not +lightly deceive her, trusted in her promise, believing that the Duke +would never break a pledge when his wife’s honour was its warranty. And +accordingly she returned to the Duchess. + +As soon as the Duke knew this, he failed not to repair to his wife’s +apartment. There, as soon as he saw the maiden, he said to his wife, +“So such-a-one has returned,” and turning to his gentlemen, he commanded +them to arrest her and lead her to prison. + +At this the poor Duchess, who by the pledging of her word had drawn the +maiden from her refuge, was in such despair that, falling upon her knees +before her husband, she prayed that for love of herself and of his +house he would not do so foul a deed, seeing that it was in obedience to +himself that she had drawn the maiden from her place of safety. + +But no prayer that she could utter availed to soften his hard heart, or +to overcome his stern resolve to be avenged. Without making any reply, +he withdrew as speedily as possible, and, foregoing all manner of trial, +and forgetting God and the honour of his house, he cruelly caused the +hapless maiden to be hanged. + +I cannot undertake to recount to you the grief of the Duchess; it was +such as beseemed a lady of honour and a tender heart on beholding one, +whom she would fain have saved, perish through trust in her own plighted +faith. Still less is it possible to describe the deep affliction of the +unhappy gentleman, the maiden’s lover, who failed not to do all that +in him lay to save his sweetheart’s life, offering to give his own for +hers; but no feeling of pity moved the heart of this Duke, whose only +happiness was that of avenging himself on those whom he hated. (4) + + 4 That Francesco-Maria was a man of a hasty, violent + temperament is certain. Much that Guicciardini relates of + him was doubtless penned in a spirit of resentment, for + during the time the historian lived at Urbino the Duke + repeatedly struck him, and on one occasion felled him to the + ground, with the sneering remark, “Your business is to + confer with pedants.” On the other hand, however, there is + independent documentary evidence in existence--notably + among the Urbino MSS. in the Vatican library--which shows + that Francesco-Maria in no wise recoiled from shedding + blood. He was yet in his teens when it was reported to him + that his sister--the widow of Venanzio of Camerino, killed + by Caesar Borgia--had secretly married a certain Giovanni + Andrea of Verona and borne him a son. Watching his + opportunity, Francesco-Maria set upon the unfortunate Andrea + one day in the ducal chamber and then and there killed him, + though not without resistance, for Andrea only succumbed + after receiving _four-and-twenty_ stabs with his murderer’s + poignard (Urbino MSS. Vat. No. 904). A few years later, in + 1511, Francesco-Maria assassinated the Papal Legate + Alidosio, Cardinal Archbishop of Pavia, whom he encountered + in the environs of Bologna riding his mule and followed by a + hundred light horse. Nevertheless Urbino, with only a small + retinue, galloped up to him, plunged a dagger into his + stomach and fled before the soldiery could intervene. From + these examples it will be seen that, although history has + preserved no record of the affair related by Queen Margaret, + her narrative may well be a true one.--Ed. + +Thus, in spite of every law of honour, was the innocent maiden put to +death by this cruel Duke, to the exceeding sorrow of all that knew her. + +“See, ladies, what are the effects of wickedness when this is combined +with power.” + +“I had indeed heard,” said Longarine, “that the Italians were prone to +three especial vices; but I should not have thought that vengeance and +cruelty would have gone so far as to deal a cruel death for so slight a +cause.” + +“Longarine,” said Saffredent, laughing, “you have told us one of the +three vices, but we must also know the other two.” + +“If you did not know them,” she replied, “I would inform you, but I am +sure that you know them all.” + +“From your words,” said Saffredent, “it seems that you deem me very +vicious.” + +“Not so,” said Longarine, “but you so well know the ugliness of vice +that, better than any other, you are able to avoid it.” + +“Do not be amazed,” said Simontault, “at this act of cruelty. Those who +have passed through Italy have seen such incredible instances, that this +one is in comparison but a trifling peccadillo.” + +“Ay, truly,” said Geburon. “When Rivolta was taken by the French, (5) +there was an Italian captain who was esteemed a knightly comrade, but +on seeing the dead body of a man who was only his enemy in that being a +Guelph he was opposed to the Ghibellines, he tore out his heart, broiled +it on the coals and devoured it. And when some asked him how he liked +it, he replied that he had never eaten so savoury or dainty a morsel. +Not content with this fine deed, he killed the dead man’s wife, and +tearing out the fruit of her womb, dashed it against a wall. Then he +filled the bodies both of husband and wife with oats and made his horses +eat from them. Think you that such a man as that would not surely have +put to death a girl whom he suspected of offending him?” + + 5 Rivolta or Rivoli was captured by the French under Louis + XII. in 1509. An instance of savagery identical in character + with that mentioned by “Geburon” had already occurred at the + time of Charles VIII.’s expedition to Naples, when the + culprit, a young Italian of good birth, was seized and + publicly executed.--Ed. + +“It must be acknowledged,” said Ennasuite, “that this Duke of Urbino +was more afraid that his son might make a poor marriage than desirous of +giving him a wife to his liking.” + +“I think you can have no doubt,” replied Simon-tault, “that it is the +Italian nature to love unnaturally that which has been created only for +nature’s service.” + +“Worse than that,” said Hircan, “they make a god of things that are +contrary to nature.” + +“And there,” said Longarine, “you have another one of the sins that +I meant; for we know that to love money, excepting so far as it be +necessary, is idolatry.” + +Parlamente then said that St. Paul had not forgotten the vices of the +Italians, and of all those who believe that they exceed and surpass +others in honour, prudence and human reason, and who trust so strongly +to this last as to withhold from God the glory that is His due. +Wherefore the Almighty, jealous of His honour, renders’ those who +believe themselves possessed of more understanding than other men, +more insensate even than wild the beasts, causing them to show by their +unnatural deeds that their sense is reprobate. + +Longarine here interrupted Parlamente to say that this was indeed the +third sin to which the Italians were prone. + +“By my faith,” said Nomerfide, “this discourse is very pleasing to +me, for, since those that possess the best trained and acutest +understandings are punished by being made more witless even than wild +beasts, it must follow that such as are humble, and low, and of little +reach, like myself, are filled with the wisdom of angels.” + +“I protest to you,” said Oisille, “that I am not far from your opinion, +for none is more ignorant than he who thinks he knows.” + +“I have never seen a mocker,” said Geburon, “that was not mocked, a +deceiver that was not deceived, or a boaster that was not humbled.” + +“You remind me,” said Simontault, “of a deceit which, had it been of a +seemly sort, I would willingly have related.” + +“Well,” said Oisille, “since we are here to utter truth, I give you my +vote that you may tell it to us whatsoever its nature may be.” + +“Since you give place to me,” said Simontault, “I will tell it you.” + + +[Illustration: 014.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 015a.jpg The Gentleman and his Friend annoyed by The Smell of that which they Thought was Sugar] + +[The Gentleman and his Friend annoyed by The Smell of that which they Thought was Sugar] + +[Illustration: 015.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LII_. + + _An apothecary s man, espying behind him an advocate who was + to plague him, and on whom he desired to be revenged, + dropped from his sleeve a lump of frozen ordure, wrapped in + paper like a sugar-loaf, which a gentleman who was with the + advocate picked up and hid in his bosom, and then went to + breakfast at a tavern, whence he came forth with all the + cost and shame that he had thought to bring upon the poor + varlet_. + +Near the town of Alençon there lived a gentleman called the Lord of La +Tireliere, who one morning came from his house to the town afoot, both +because the distance was not great and because it was freezing hard. (1) +When he had done his business, he sought out a crony of his, an advocate +named Anthony Bacheré, and, after speaking with him of his affairs, he +told him that he should much like to meet with a good breakfast, but at +somebody else’s expense. While thus discussing, they sat themselves down +in front of an apothecary’s shop, where there was a varlet who listened +to them, and who forthwith resolved to give them their breakfast. + + 1 The phraseology of this story varies considerably in the + different MSS. of the _Heptameron_. In No. 1520, for + instance, the tale begins as follows: “In the town of + Alençon, in the time of the last Duke Charles, there was an + advocate, a merry companion, fond of breakfasting o’ + mornings. One day, whilst he sat at his door, he saw pass a + gentleman called the Lord of La Tilleriere, who, by reason + of the extreme cold, had come on foot from his house to the + town in order to attend to certain business there, and in + doing so had not forgotten to put on his great robe, lined + with fox-skin. And when he saw the advocate, who was much + such a man as himself, he told him that he had completed his + business, and had nothing further to do, except it were to + find a good breakfast. The advocate made answer that they + could find breakfasts enough and to spare, provided they had + some one to defray the cost, and, taking the other under the + arm, he said to him, ‘Come, gossip, we may perhaps find some + fool who will pay the reckoning for us both.’ Now behind + them was an apothecary’s man, an artful and inventive + fellow, whom this advocate was always plaguing,” &c.--L. + +He went out from his shop into a street whither all repaired on needful +occasions, (2) and there found a large lump of ordure standing on end, +and so well frozen that it looked like a small loaf of fine sugar. +Forthwith he wrapped it in handsome white paper, in the manner he was +wont to use for the attraction of customers, and hid it in his sleeve. + + 2 In olden time, as shown in the _Mémoires de l’Académie de + Troyes_, there were in most French towns streets specially + set aside for the purpose referred to. At Alençon, in Queen + Margaret’s time, there was a street called the Rue des + Fumiers, as appears from a report dated March 8, 1564 + (Archives of the Orne, Series A). Probably it is to this + street that she alludes. (Communicated by M. L. Duval, + archivist of the department of the Orne).--M. + +Afterwards he came and passed in front of the gentleman and the +advocate, and, letting the sugar-loaf (3) fall near them, as if by +mischance, went into a house whither he had pretended to be carrying it. + +The Lord of La Tirelière (4) hastened back with all speed to pick up +what he thought to be a sugar-loaf, and just as he had done so the +apothecary’s man also came back looking and asking for his sugar +everywhere. + + 3 M. Duval, archivist of the Orne, states that La + Tirelière, which is situated near St. Germain-du-Corbois, + within three miles of Alençon, is an old _gentilhommière_ or + manor-house, surrounded by a moat. It was originally a + simple _vavassonrie_ held in fief from the Counts and Dukes + of Alençon by the Pantolf and Crouches families, and in the + seventeenth century was merged into the marquisate of + L’Isle.--M. + + 4 Sugar was at this period sold by apothecaries, and was a + rare and costly luxury. There were loaves of various sizes, + but none so large as those of the present time.--M. + +The gentleman, thinking that he had cleverly tricked him, then went in +haste to a tavern with his crony, to whom he said-- + +“Our breakfast has been paid for at the cost of that varlet.” + +When he was come to the tavern he called for good bread, good wine and +good meat, for he thought that he had wherewith to pay. But whilst he +was eating, as he began to grow warm, his sugar-loaf in its turn began +to thaw and melt, and filled the whole room with the smell peculiar +to it, whereupon he, who carried it in his bosom, grew wroth with the +waiting-woman, and said to her-- + +“You are the filthiest folks that ever I knew in this town, for either +you or your children have strewn all this room with filth.” + +“By St. Peter!” replied the woman, “there is no filth here unless you +have brought it in yourselves.” + +Thereupon they rose, by reason of the great stench that they smelt, +and went up to the fire, where the gentleman drew out of his bosom a +handkerchief all dyed with the melted sugar, and on opening his robe, +lined with fox-skin, found it to be quite spoiled. + +And all that he was able to say to his crony was this-- + +“The rogue whom we thought to deceive has deceived us instead.” + +Then they paid their reckoning and went away as vexed as they had +been merry on their arrival, when they fancied they had tricked the +apothecary’s varlet. (5) + + 5 In MS. 1520, this tale ends in the following manner:-- + “They were no sooner in the street than they perceived the + apothecary’s man going about and making inquiry of every one + whether they had not seen a loaf of sugar wrapped in paper. + They [the advocate and his companion] sought to avoid him, + but he called aloud to the advocate, ‘If you have my loaf of + sugar, sir, I beg that you will give it back to me, for ‘tis + a double sin to rob a poor servant.’ His shouts brought to + the spot many people curious to witness the dispute, and the + true circumstances of the case were so well proven, that the + apothecary’s man was as glad to have been robbed as the + others were vexed at having committed such a nasty theft. + However, they comforted themselves with the hope that they + might some day give him tit for tat.”--Ed. + +“Often, ladies, do we see the like befall those who delight in using +such cunning. If the gentleman had not sought to eat at another’s +expense, he would not have drunk so vile a beverage at his own. It is +true, ladies, that my story is not a very clean one, but you gave me +license to speak the truth, and I have done so in order to show you that +no one is sorry when a deceiver is deceived.” + +“It is commonly said,” replied Hircan, “that words have no stink, yet +those for whom they are intended do not easily escape smelling them.” + +“It is true,” said Oisille, “that such words do not stink, but there are +others which are spoken of as nasty, and which are of such evil odour +that they disgust the soul even more than the body is disgusted when it +smells such a sugar-loaf as you described in the tale.” + +“I pray you,” said Hircan, “tell me what words you know of so foul as to +sicken both the heart and soul of a virtuous woman.” + +“It would indeed be seemly,” replied Oisille, “that I should tell you +words which I counsel no woman to utter.” + +“By that,” said Saffredent, “I quite understand what those terms are. +They are such as women desirous of being held discreet do not commonly +employ. But I would ask all the ladies present why, when they dare not +utter them, they are so ready to laugh at them when they are used in +their presence.” + +Then said Parlamente-- + +“We do not laugh because we hear such pretty expressions, though it +is indeed true that every one is disposed to laugh on seeing anybody +stumble or on hearing any one utter an unfitting word, as often happens. +The tongue will trip and cause one word to be used for another, even +by the discreetest and most excellent speakers. But when you men talk +viciously, not from ignorance, but by reason of your own wickedness, +I know of no virtuous woman who does not feel a loathing for such +speakers, and who would not merely refuse to hearken to them, but even +to remain in their company.” + +“That is very true,” responded Geburon. “I have frequently seen women +make the sign of the cross on hearing certain words spoken, and cease +not in doing so after these words had been uttered a second time.” + +“But how many times,” said Simontault, “have they put on their masks (6) +in order to laugh as freely as they pretended to be angry?” + +“Yet it were better to do this,” said Parlamente, “than to let it be +seen that the talk pleased them.” + +“Then,” said Dagoucin, “you praise a lady’s hypocrisy no less than her +virtue?” + +“Virtue would be far better,” said Longarine, “but, when it is lacking, +recourse must be had to hypocrisy, just as we use our slippers (7) to +disguise our littleness. And it is no small matter to be able to conceal +our imperfections.” + + 8 _Tourets-de-nez_. _See ante_, vol. iii. p. 27, note 5.--Ed. + + 7 High-heeled slippers or _mules_ were then worn.--B. J. + +“By my word,” said Hircan, “it were better sometimes to show some slight +imperfection than to cover it so closely with the cloak of virtue.” + +“It is true,” said Ennasuitc, “that a borrowed garment brings the +borrower as much dishonour when he is constrained to return it as it +brought him honour whilst it was being worn, and there is a lady now +living who, by being too eager to conceal a small error, fell into a +greater.” + +“I think,” said Hircan, “that I know whom you mean; in any case, +however, do not pronounce her name.” + +“Ho! ho!” said Geburon [to Ennasuite], “I give you my vote on condition +that when you have related the story you will tell us the names. We will +swear never to mention them.” + +“I promise it,” said Knnasuite, “for there is nothing that may not be +told in all honour.” + + +[Illustration: 022.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 023a.jpg The Lord des Cheriots flying from the Prince’s Servant] + +[The Lord des Cheriots flying from the Prince’s Servant] + +[Illustration: 023.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LIII_. + + _By her dissimulation the Lady of Neufchastel caused the + Prince of Belhoste to put her to such proof that it turned + to her dishonour_. + +King Francis the First was once at a handsome and pleasant castle, +whither he had gone with a small following, both for the purpose of +hunting and in order to take some repose. With him in his train was a +certain Prince of Belhoste, (1) as worshipful, virtuous, discreet and +handsome a Prince as any at Court. The wife he had married did not +belong to a family of high rank, yet he loved her as dearly and treated +her as well as it were possible for a husband to do, and also trusted +in her. And when he was in love with anybody he never concealed it from +her, knowing that she had no other will than his own. + + 1 The Bibliophile Jacob surmises that this personage may be + one of the Italian grandees at that period in the service of + France, in which case the allusion may be to John + Caraccioli, Prince of Melphes, created a marshal of France + in 1544. Queen Margaret, however, makes no mention of her + Prince being a foreigner. “Belhoste” is of course a + fictitious name invented to replace that which the Prince + really bore, and admits of so many interpretations that its + meaning in the present instance cannot well be determined. + From the circumstance, however, that the Prince’s wife was + of inferior birth to himself, it is not impossible that the + personage referred to may be either Charles de Bourbon, + Prince of La Roche-sur-Yonne and Duke of Beaupréau, or John + VIII., Lord of Créqui, Canaples and Pontdormi, and Prince of + Poix. The former, who married Philippa de Montespedon, widow + of René de Montéjan, and a lady of honour to Catherine de’ + Medici when Dauphiness, took a prominent part in the last + wars of Francis I.’s reign, and survived till 1565. The + latter, generally known at Court by the name of Canaples, + was a gentleman of the chamber and an especial favourite of + Francis I. Brantôme says of him in his _Homines Illustres_ + that he was “a valiant lord and the strongest man of arms + that in those days existed in all Christendom, for he broke + a lance, no matter its strength, as easily as though it were + a mere switch, and few were able to withstand him.” In 1525 + the Prince of Poix married a Demoiselle d’Acigné or Assigny, + of _petite noblesse_, who in 1532 became a lady of honour to + Queen Eleanor. She died in 1558, surviving her husband by + three years. See Rouard’s rare _Notice dun Recueil de + Crayons à la Bibliothèque Méjanes d’Aix_, Paris, 1863.--Ed. + +Now this Prince conceived a deep affection for a widow lady called +Madame de Neufchastel, (2) who was reputed the most beautiful woman it +were possible to see; and if the Prince of Bel-hoste loved her well, his +wife loved her no less, and would often send and bid her to dinner, +for she deemed her so discreet and honourable, that, instead of being +grieved by her husband’s love for her, she rejoiced to see him address +his attentions to one so full of honour and virtue. + + 2 M. Lacroix thinks that this lady may be Jane de Hochberg, + only daughter of Philip, sovereign Count of Neufchâtel. + According to the custom of the time, she was commonly called + Madame de Neufchâtel, despite her marriage with Louis + d’Orléans, Duke of Longueville. She died in 1543, after a + lengthy widowhood. We consider the accuracy of M. Lacroix’s + surmise to be extremely doubtful, for the names of both the + men figuring in the story are obviously altered so as to + conceal their identity, and it is therefore not likely that + Queen Margaret would designate the lady by her real name, + and thus publish her shame to the world. The Madame de + Neufchâtel she speaks of may really have been a Madame de + Châteauneuf, Châteauvieux or Maisonneuve; or we may again be + in presence of Margaret’s lady of honour, the widowed + Blanche de Chastillon, _née_ de Tournon, to whom frequent + reference has been made.--Ed. + +This affection lasted for a great while, the Prince of Belhoste caring +for all the lady’s affairs as though they were his own, and his wife +doing no less. By reason, however, of her beauty many great lords and +gentlemen earnestly sought the lady’s favour, some only for love’s sake, +others for sake of the ring, for, besides being beautiful, she was also +very rich. + +Among the rest was a young gentleman, called the Lord des Cheriots, (3) +who wooed her so ardently that he was never absent from her levee and +couchée, and was also with her as much as possible during the day. This +did not please the Prince of Belhoste, who thought that a man of such +poor estate, and so lacking in grace, did not deserve an honourable +and gracious reception, and he often made remonstrances about it to the +lady. She, however, being one of Eve’s daughters, (4) excused herself +by saying that she spoke with every one in general, and that their own +affection was the better concealed, since she never spoke more with one +than with another. + + 3 “Des Cheriots” (occasionally Des Cheriotz in the MS.) may + be a play upon the name of D’Escars, sometimes written Des + Cars. According to La Curne de Ste. Palaye _car_ as well as + _char_ signified chariot. The D’Escars dukedom is modern, + dating from 1815, and in the time of Francis I. the family + was of small estate. Some members of it may well have filled + inferior offices about the court, as in 1536 a Demoiselle + Suzanne d’Escars married Geoffrey de Pompadour, who was both + a prothonotary and cupbearer to Francis I., and lived to + become Governor of the Limousin under Charles IX.--M. and + Ed. + + 4 We take this expression from MS. 1520. Ours says, “a + daughter of the Duke,” which is evidently an error.--L. + +Albeit, after some time, this Lord des Cheriots so pressed her that, +more through his importunity than through love, she promised to marry +him, begging him, however, not to urge her to reveal the marriage until +her daughters were wedded. After this the gentleman was wont to go with +untroubled conscience to her chamber at whatsoever hour he chose, and +none but a waiting-woman and a serving-man had knowledge of the matter. + +When the Prince perceived that the gentleman was growing more and more +familiar in the house of her whom he so dearly loved, he took it in +ill-part, and could not refrain from saying to the lady-- + +“I have always prized your honour like that of my own sister, and you +are aware of the honourable manner in which I have addressed you, and +the happiness that I have in loving a lady as discreet and virtuous as +yourself; but did I think that another who deserves it not could win by +importunity that which I am not willing to crave, contrary to your +own desire, this would be unendurable to me, and in the like degree +dishonouring to you. I tell you this because you are beautiful and +young, and although hitherto of good repute, are now beginning to gain +a very evil fame. Even though he be not your equal in birth or fortune, +and have less influence, knowledge and address, yet it were better to +have married him than to give all men matter for suspicion. I pray you, +therefore, tell me whether you are resolved to love him, for I will not +have him as fellow of mine. I would rather leave you altogether to him, +and put away from me the feelings that I have hitherto borne you.” + +The poor lady, fearful of losing his affection, thereupon began to weep, +and vowed to him that she would rather die than wed the gentleman of +whom he had spoken, but (she added) he was so importunate that she could +not help his entering her chamber at a time when every one else did so. + +“Of such times as those,” said the Prince, “I do not speak, for I can go +as well as he, and see all what you are doing. But I have been told that +he goes after you are in bed, and this I look upon as so extraordinary +that, if you should continue in this mode of life without declaring him +to be your husband, you will be disgraced more than any woman that ever +lived.” + +She swore to him with all the oaths she could utter that the other was +neither her husband nor her lover, but only as importunate a gentleman +as there well could be. + +“Since he is troublesome to you,” said the Prince, “I promise you that I +will rid you of him.” + +“What!” asked the lady. “Would you kill him?” + +“No, no,” said the Prince, “but I will give him to understood that it +is not in such a place as this, not in such a house as the King’s, that +ladies are to be put to shame. And I swear to you by the faith of the +lover that I am, that if, after I have spoken with him, he does not +correct himself, I will correct him in such a manner as to make him a +warning to others.” + +So saying he went away, and on leaving the room failed not to meet the +Lord des Cheriots on his way in. To him he spoke after the fashion that +you have heard, assuring him that the first time he was found there +after an hour at which gentlemen might reasonably visit the ladies, he +would give him such a fright as he would ever remember. And he added +that the lady was of too noble a house to be trifled with after such a +fashion. + +The gentleman protested that he had never been in the room except in the +same manner as the rest, and, if the Prince should find him there, he +gave him full leave to do his worst. + +One day afterwards, when the gentleman believed the Prince’s words +to have been forgotten, he went to see his lady in the evening, and +remained sufficiently late. + +The Prince [that same evening] told his wife that Madame de Neufchastel +had a severe cold, upon hearing which the worthy lady begged that he +would visit her on behalf of them both, and make excuse for herself, +since she could not go by reason of a certain matter that she must needs +attend to in her room. + +The Prince waited until the King was in bed, and then went to give +the lady good-evening, but as he was going up a stairway he met a +serving-man coming down, who, on being asked how his mistress did, swore +that she was in bed and asleep. + +The Prince went down the stairway, but, suspecting that the servant +had lied, looked behind and saw him going back again with all speed. +He walked about the courtyard in front of the door to see whether the +servant would return. A quarter of an hour later he perceived him come +down again and look all about to see who was in the courtyard. + +Forthwith the Prince was convinced that the Lord des Cheriots was in the +lady’s chamber, but through fear of himself durst not come down, and he +therefore again walked about for a long-while. + +At last, observing that the lady’s room had a casement which was not at +all high up, and which looked upon a little garden, he remembered the +proverb which says, “When the door fails the window avails,” and he +thereupon called a servant of his own, and said to him-- + +“Go into the garden there behind, and, if you see a gentleman come down +from the window, draw your sword as soon as he reaches the ground, clash +it against the wall, and cry out, ‘Slay! slay!’ Be careful, however, +that you do not touch him.” + +The servant went whither his master had sent him, and the Prince walked +about until three hours after midnight. + +When the Lord des Cheriots heard that the Prince was still in the yard, +he resolved to descend by the window, and, having first thrown clown his +cloak, he then, by the help of his good friends, leapt into the garden. +As soon as the servant saw him, he failed not to make a noise with +his sword, at the same time crying, “Slay! slay!” Upon this the poor +gentleman, believing it was his [the servant’s] master, was in such +great fear that, without thinking of his cloak, he fled as quickly as he +was able. + +He met the archers of the watch, who wondered greatly to see him running +in this fashion, but he durst say nothing to them, except to beg them to +open him the gate [of the castle], or else to lodge him with themselves +until morning. And this, as they had not the keys, they did. + +Then the Prince went to bed, and, finding his wife asleep, awoke her +saying-- + +“Guess, my wife, what hour it is.’’ + +“I have not heard the clock strike since I went to bed,” she replied. + +“It is three hours after midnight,” said he. + +“If that be so,” said his wife, “where have you been all this time? I +greatly fear that your health will be the worse for it.” + +“Sweetheart,” said the Prince, “watching will never make me ill when +I am engaged in preventing those who try to deceive me from going to +sleep.” + +So saying, he began to laugh so heartily that his wife begged him to +tell her of the matter. This he did at length, showing her the wolf’s +skin (4) which his servant had brought him. After making merry at +the expense of the hapless lovers, they went to sleep in gentle +tranquillity, while the other two passed the night in torment, fearing +and dreading lest the affair should be revealed. + +However, the gentleman, knowing right well that he could not use +concealment with the Prince, came to him in the morning when he was +dressing to beg that he would not expose him, and would give orders for +the return of his cloak. + +The Prince pretended that he knew nothing of the matter, and put such a +face on it that the gentleman was wholly at a loss what to think. But +in the end he received a rating that he had not expected, for the Prince +assured him that, if ever he went to the lady’s room again, he would +tell the King of it, and have him banished the Court. + +“I pray you, ladies, judge whether it had not been better for this poor +lady to have spoken freely to him who did her the honour of loving and +esteeming her, instead of leading him by her dissimulation to prove her +in a way that brought her so much shame.” + +“She knew,” said Geburon, “that if she confessed the truth she would +wholly lose his favour, and this she on no account desired to do.” + +“It seems to me,” said Longarine, “that when she had chosen a husband +to her liking, she ought not to have feared the loss of any other man’s +affection.” + +“I am sure,” said Parlamente, “that if she had dared to reveal her +marriage, she would have been quite content with her husband; but she +wished to hide it until her daughters were wed, and so she would not +abandon so good a means of concealment.” + +“It was not for that reason,” said Saffredent, “but because the ambition +of women is so great that they are never satisfied with having only +one lover. I have heard that the discreetest of them are glad to have +three--one, namely, for honour, one for profit, and one for delight. +Each of the three thinks himself loved the best, but the first two are +as servants to the last.” + +“You speak,” said Oisille, “of such women as have neither love nor +honour.” + +“Madam,” said Saffredent, “there are some of the kind that I describe, +whom you reckon among the most honourable in the land.” + +“You may be sure,” said Hircan, “that a crafty woman will be able to +live where all others die of hunger.” + +“And,” said Longarine, “when their craftiness is discerned, ‘tis death.” + +“Nay, ‘tis life,” said Simontault, “for they deem it no small glory +to be reputed more crafty than their fellows. And the reputation of +‘crafty,’ gained thus at their own expense, brings lovers more readily +under subjection to them than does their beauty, for one of the greatest +delights shared by those who are in love is to conduct the affair +slyly.” + +“You speak,” said Ennasuite, “of wanton love, for the honourable has no +need of concealment.” + +“Ah!” said Dagoucin, “I pray you put that thought out of your head. +The more precious the drug, the less should it be exposed to the air, +because of the perverseness of those who trust only to outward signs. +These are not different in the case of honourable and faithful affection +than in any other case, so they must none the less be hidden when the +love is virtuous than when it is the opposite, if one would avoid the +evil opinion of those who cannot believe that a man may love a lady in +all honour, and who, being themselves slaves to pleasure, think every +one else the same. If we were all of good faith, look and speech would +be without concealment, at least toward those who would rather die than +take them in an evil sense.” + +“I protest to you, Dagoucin,” said Hircan, “that your philosophy is too +deep for any man here to understand or believe. You would have us think +that men are angels, or stones, or devils.” + +“I am well aware,” said Dagoucin, “that men are men and subject to every +passion, but there are some, nevertheless, who would rather die than +that their mistresses should, for their delight, do aught against their +consciences.” + +“To die means a great deal,” said Geburon. “I would not believe that of +them were it uttered by the lips of the austerest monk alive.” + +“Nay, I believe,” said Hircan, “that there is none but desires the very +opposite. But they make pretence of disliking the grapes when these hang +too high to be gathered.” + +“Still,” said Nomcrfide, “I am sure that the Prince’s wife was very glad +to find that her husband was learning to know women.” + +“I assure you it was not so,” said Ennasuite. “She was very sorry on +account of the love that she bore the lady.” + +“I would as soon,” said Saffredent, “have the lady who laughed when her +husband kissed her maid.” + +“In sooth,” said Ennasuite, “you shall tell us the story. I give place +to you.” + +“Although the story is very short,” said Saffredent, “I will still +relate it, for I would rather make you laugh than speak myself at +length.” + + +[Illustration: 036.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 037a.jpg The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing] + +[The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing] + +[Illustration: 037.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LIV_. + + _Thogas’s wife, believing that her husband loved none but + herself, was pleased that her serving-woman should amuse + him, and laughed when in her presence he kissed the girl + before her eyes, and with her knowledge_. + +Between the Pyrenees Mountains and the Alps, there dwelt a gentleman +named Thogas, (1) who had a wife and children, with a very beautiful +house, and so much wealth and pleasure at his hand, that there was +reason he should live in contentment, had it not been that he was +subject to great pain beneath the roots of the hair, in such wise that +the doctors advised him to sleep no longer with his wife. She, whose +chief thought was for her husband’s life and health, readily consented, +and caused her bed to be set in another corner of the room directly +opposite her husband’s, so that they could neither of them put out their +heads without seeing each other. + + 1 We are unable to trace any family named Thogas, which is + probably a fictitious appellation. Read backwards with the + letter h omitted it forms Sagot, whilst if the syllables be + transposed it suggests Guasto, a well-known Basque or + Navarrese name.--Ed. + +This lady had two serving-women, and often when the lord and his lady +were in bed, they would each take some diverting book to read, whilst +the serving-women held candles, the younger, that is, for the gentleman, +and the other for his wife. + +The gentleman, finding that the maid was younger and handsomer than her +mistress, took such great pleasure in observing her that he would break +off his reading in order to converse with her. His wife could hear this +very plainly, but believing that her husband loved none but herself, she +was well pleased that her servants should amuse him. + +It happened one evening, however, when they had read longer than was +their wont, that the lady looked towards her husband’s bed where was the +young serving-maid holding the candle. Of her she could see nothing but +her back, and of her husband nothing at all excepting on the side of +the chimney, which jutted out in front of his bed, and the white wall of +which was bright with the light from the candle. And upon this wall +she could plainly see the shadows both of her husband and of her maid; +whether they drew apart, or came near together or laughed, it was all as +clear to her as though she had veritably beheld them. + +The gentleman, using no precaution since he felt sure that his wife +could not see them, kissed her maid, and on the first occasion his wife +suffered this to pass without uttering a word. But when she saw that the +shadows frequently returned to this fellowship, she feared that there +might be some reality beneath it all, and burst into a loud laugh, +whereat the shadows were alarmed and separated. + +The gentleman then asked his wife why she was laughing so heartily, so +that he might have a share in her merriment. + +“Husband,” she replied, “I am so foolish that I laugh at my own shadow.” + +Inquire as he might, she would never acknowledge any other reason, but, +nevertheless, he thenceforward refrained from kissing such shadow-faces. + +“That is the story of which I was reminded when I spoke of the lady who +loved her husband’s sweetheart.” + +“By my faith,” said Ennasuite, “if my maid had treated me in that +fashion, I should have risen and extinguished the candle upon her nose.” + +“You are indeed terrible,” said Hircan, “but it had been well done +if your husband and the maid had both turned upon you and beaten you +soundly. There should not be so much ado for a kiss; and ‘twould have +been better if his wife had said nothing about it, and had suffered him +to take his pastime, which might perchance have cured his complaint.” + +“Nay,” said Parlamente, “she was afraid that the end of the pastime +would make him worse.” + +“She was not one of those,” said Oisille, “against whom our Lord says, +‘We have mourned to you and ye have not lamented, we have sung to you +and ye have not danced,’ (2) for when her husband was ill, she wept, and +when he was merry, she laughed. In the same fashion every virtuous +woman ought to share the good and evil, the joy and the sadness of her +husband, and serve and obey him as the Church does Jesus Christ.” + + 2 “They are like unto children sitting in the market-place, + and calling one to another, and saying, We have piped unto + you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye + have not wept.”--_St. Luke_ vii. 32.--M. + +“Then, ladies,” said Parlamente, “our husbands should be to us what +Christ is to the Church.” + +“So are we,” said Saffredent, “and, if it were possible, something more; +for Christ died but once for His Church, whereas we die daily for our +wives.” + +“Die!” said Longarine. “Methinks that you and the others here present +are now worth more crowns than you were worth pence before you were +wed.” + +“And I know why,” said Saffredent; “it is because our worth is often +tried. Still our shoulders are sensible of having worn the cuirass so +long.” + +“If,” said Ennasuite, “you had been obliged to wear harness for a month +and lie on the hard ground, you would greatly long to regain the bed of +your excellent wife, and wear the cuirass of which you now complain. +But it is said that everything can be endured except ease, and that +none know what rest is until they have lost it. This foolish woman, who +laughed when her husband was merry, was fond of taking her rest under +any circumstances.” + +“I am sure,” said Longarine, “that she loved her rest better than her +husband, since she took nothing that he did to heart.” + +“She did take to heart,” said Parlamente, “those things which might have +been hurtful to his conscience and his health, but she would not dwell +upon trifles.” + +“When you speak of conscience,” said Simontault “you make me laugh. ‘Tis +a thing to which I would have no woman give heed.” + +“It would be a good thing,” said Nomerfide, “if you had a wife like one +who, after her husband’s death, proved that she loved her money better +than her conscience.” + +“I pray you,” said Saffredent, “tell us that tale. I give you my vote.” + +“I had not intended,” said Nomcrfide, “to relate so short a story, but, +since it is suited to the occasion, I will do so.” + + +[Illustration: 042.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 043a.jpg The Servant selling the Horse with the Cat] + +[The Servant selling the Horse with the Cat] + +[Illustration: 043.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LV_. + + _A merchant’s widow, whilst carrying out her husband’s will, + interpreted its purport to the advantage of herself and her + children_. (1) + +In the town of Safagossa there lived a rich merchant, who, finding his +death draw nigh, and himself no longer able to retain possession of his +goods---which he had perchance gathered together by evil means--thought +that if he made a little present to God, he might thus after his death +make part atonement for his sins, just as though God sold His pardon for +money. Accordingly, when he had settled matters in respect of his house, +he declared it to be his desire that a fine Spanish horse which he +possessed should be sold for as much as it would bring, and the money +obtained for it be distributed among the poor. And he begged his wife +that she would in no wise fail to sell the horse as soon as he was dead, +and distribute the money in the manner he had commanded. + + 1 Whether the incidents here related be true or not, it is + probable that this was a story told to Queen Margaret at the + time of her journey to Spain in 1525. It will have been + observed (_ante_, pp. 36 and 42) that both the previous tale + and this one are introduced into the _Heptameron_ in a semi- + apologetic fashion, as though the Queen had not originally + intended that her work should include such short, slight + anecdotes. However, already at this stage--the fifty-fifth + only of the hundred tales which she proposed writing--she + probably found fewer materials at her disposal than she had + anticipated, and harked back to incidents of her earlier + years, which she had at first thought too trifling to + record. Still, slight as this story may be, it is not + without point. The example set by the wife of the Saragossa + merchant has been followed in modern times in more ways than + one.--Ed. + +When the burial was over and the first tears were shed, the wife, who +was no more of a fool than Spanish women are used to be, went to the +servant who with herself had heard his master declare his desire, and +said to him-- + +“Methinks I have lost enough in the person of a husband I loved so +dearly, without afterwards losing his possessions. Yet would I not +disobey his word, but rather better his intention; for the poor man, led +astray by the greed of the priests, thought to make a great sacrifice to +God in bestowing after his death a sum of money, not a crown of which, +as you well know, he would have given in his lifetime to relieve even +the sorest need. I have therefore bethought me that we will do what +he commanded at his death, and in still better fashion than he himself +would have done if had he lived a fortnight longer. But no living person +must know aught of the matter.” + +When she had received the servant’s promise to keep it secret, she said +to him-- + +“You will go and sell the horse, and when you are asked, ‘How much?’ +you will reply, ‘A ducat.’ I have, however, a very fine cat which I also +wish to dispose of, and you will sell it with the horse for ninety-nine +ducats, so that cat and horse together will bring in the hundred ducats +for which my husband wished to sell the horse alone.” + +The servant readily fulfilled his mistress’s command. While he was +walking the horse about the market-place, and holding the cat in his +arms, a gentleman, who had seen the horse before, and was desirous of +possessing it, asked the servant what price he sought. + +“A ducat,” replied the man. + +“I pray you,” said the gentleman, “do not mock me.” + +“I assure you, sir,” said the servant, “that it will cost you only a +ducat. It is true that the cat must be bought at the same time, and for +the cat I must have nine and ninety ducats.” + +Forthwith, the gentleman, thinking the bargain a reasonable one, paid +him one ducat for the horse, and the remainder as was desired of him, +and took his goods away. + +The servant, on his part, went off with the money, with which his +mistress was right well pleased, and she failed not to give the ducat +that the horse had brought to the poor Mendicants, (2) as her husband +had commanded, and the remainder she kept for the needs of herself and +her children. (3) + + 2 The allusion is not to the ordinary beggars who then, as + now, swarmed in Spain, but to the Mendicant friars.--Ed. + + 3 In Boaistuau’s and Gruget’s editions of the _Heptameron_ + the dialogue following this tale is replaced by matter of + their own invention. They did not dare to reproduce Queen + Margaret’s bold opinions respecting the clergy, the monastic + orders, &c., at a time when scores of people, including even + Counsellors of Parliament, were being burnt at the stake for + heresy.--L. and Ed. + +“What think you? Was she not far more prudent than her husband, and +did she not think less of her conscience than of the advantage of her +household?” + +“I think,” said Parlamente, “that she did love her husband; but, seeing +that most men wander in their wits when at the point of death, and +knowing his intentions, she tried to interpret them to her children’s +advantage. And therein I hold her to have been very prudent.” + +“What!” said Geburon. “Do you not hold it a great wrong not to carry out +the last wishes of departed friends?” + +“Assuredly I do,” said Parlamente; “that is to say if the testator be in +his right mind, and not raving.” + +“Do you call it raving to give one’s goods to the Church and the poor +Mendicants?” + +“I do not call it raving,” said Parlamente, “if a man distribute what +God has given into his hands among the poor; but to make alms of another +person’s goods is, in my opinion, no great wisdom. You will commonly see +the greatest usurers build the handsomest and most magnificent chapels +imaginable, thinking they may appease God with ten thousand ducats’ +worth of building for a hundred thousand ducats’ worth of robbery, just +as though God did not know how to count.” + +“In sooth,” said Oisille, “I have many a time wondered how they can +think to appease God for things which He Himself rebuked when He was on +earth, such as great buildings, gildings, pictures and paint. If they +really understood the passage in which God says to us that the only +offering He requires from us is a contrite and humble heart, (4) and +the other in which St. Paul says we are the temples of God wherein He +desires to dwell, (5) they would be at pains to adorn their consciences +while yet alive, and would not wait for the hour when man can do nothing +more, whether good or evil, nor (what is worse) charge those who remain +on earth to give their alms to folk upon whom, during their lifetime, +they did not deign to look. But He who knows the heart cannot be +deceived, and will judge them not according to their works, but +according to their faith and charity towards Himself.” + + 4 “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and + a contrite heart, O God, thou will not despise.”--_Psalm_ + li. 17.--Ed. + + 5 “For ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath + said, I will dwell in them and walk in them,” &c.--2 + _Corinthians_ vi. 16.--Ed. + +“Why is it, then,” said Geburon, “that these Grey Friars and Mendicants +talk to us at our death of nothing but bestowing great benefits upon +their monasteries, assuring us that they will put us into Paradise +whether we will or not?” + +“How now, Geburon?” said Hircan. “Have you forgotten the wickedness you +related to us of the Grey Friars, that you ask how such folk find it +possible to lie? I declare to you that I do not think that there can +be greater lies than theirs. Those, indeed, who speak on behalf of the +whole community are not to be blamed, but there are some among them who +forget their vows of poverty in order to satisfy their own greed.” + +“Methinks, Hircan,” said Nomerfide, “you must know some such tale, and +if it be worthy of this company, I pray you tell it us.” + +“I will,” said Hircan, “although it irks me to speak of such folk. +Methinks they are of the number of those of whom Virgil says to Dante, +‘Pass on and heed them not.’ (6) Still, to show you that they have not +laid aside their passions with their worldly garments, I will tell you +of something that once came to pass.” + + 6 _Non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa_ (Dante’s + _Purgatorio_, iii. 51). The allusion is to the souls of + those who led useless and idle lives on earth, supporting + neither the Divinity by the observance of virtue, nor the + spirit of evil by the practice of vice. They are thus cast + out both from heaven and hell.--Ed. + + +[Illustration: 049.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 051a.jpg The Grey Friar introducing his Comrade to the +Lady and her Daughter] + +[The Grey Friar introducing his Comrade to the Lady and her +Daughter] + +[Illustration: 051.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LVI_. + + _A pious lady had recourse to a Grey Friar for his advice in + providing her daughter with a good husband, for whom she + proposed making it so profitable a match that the worthy + father, hoping to get the money she intended for her son-in- + law, married her daughter to a young comrade of his own. The + latter came every evening to sup and lie with his wife, and + in the morning returned in the garb of a scholar to his + convent. But one day while he was chanting mass, his wife + perceived him and pointed him out to her mother; who, + however, could not believe that it was he until she had + pulled off his coif while he was in bed, and from his tonsure + learned the whole truth, and the deceit used by her father + confessor_. + +A French lady, whilst sojourning at Padua, was informed that there was +a Grey Friar in the Bishop’s prison there, and finding that every one +spoke jestingly about him, she inquired the reason. She was told that +this Grey Friar, who was an old man, had been confessor to a very +honourable and pious widow lady, mother of only one daughter, whom she +loved so dearly as to be at all pains to amass riches for her, and to +find her a good husband. Now, seeing that her daughter was grown up, she +was unceasingly anxious to find her a husband who might live with them +in peace and quiet, a man, that is, of a good conscience, such as she +deemed herself to possess. And since she had heard some foolish preacher +say that it were better to do evil by the counsel of theologians than +to do well through belief in the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, she +had recourse to her father confessor, a man already old, a doctor of +theology and one who was held to lead a holy life by the whole town, +for she felt sure that, with his counsel and good prayers, she could not +fail to find peace both for herself and for her daughter. After she had +earnestly begged him to choose for her daughter such a husband as he +knew a woman that loved God and her honour ought to desire, he replied +that first of all it was needful to implore the grace of the Holy Spirit +with prayer and fasting, and then, God guiding his judgment, he hoped to +find what she required. + +So the Friar retired to think over the matter; and whereas he had heard +from the lady that she had got five hundred ducats together to give to +her daughter’s husband, and that she would take upon herself the charge +of maintaining both husband and wife with lodgment, furniture and +clothes, he bethought himself that he had a young comrade of handsome +figure and pleasing countenance, to whom he might give the fair maiden, +the house, the furniture, maintenance and food, whilst he himself kept +the five hundred ducats to gratify his burning greed. And when he spoke +to his comrade of the matter, he found that they were both of one mind +upon it. + +He therefore returned to the lady and said--“I verily believe that God +has sent his angel Raphael to me as he did to Tobit, to enable me to +find a perfect husband for your daughter. I have in my house the most +honourable gentleman in Italy, who has sometimes seen your daughter and +is deeply in love with her. And so to-day, whilst I was at prayer, +God sent him to me, and he told me of his desire for the marriage, +whereupon, knowing his lineage and kindred and notable descent, I +promised him to speak to you on the matter. There is, indeed, one defect +in him, of which I alone have knowledge, and it is this. Wishing to save +one of his friends whom another man was striving to slay, he drew his +sword in order to separate them; but it chanced that his friend slew the +other, and thus, although he himself had not dealt a blow, yet inasmuch +as he had been present at a murder and had drawn his sword, he became +a fugitive from his native town. By the advice of his kinsfolk he came +hither in the garb of a scholar, and he dwells here unknown until his +kinsfolk shall have ended the matter; and this he hopes will shortly +be done. For this reason, then, it would be needful that the marriage +should be performed in secret, and that you should suffer him to go in +the daytime to the public lectures and return home every evening to sup +and sleep.” + +“Sir,” replied the worthy woman, “I look upon what you tell me as of +great advantage to myself, for I shall at least have by me what I most +desire in the world.” + +Thereupon the Grey Friar brought his comrade, bravely attired with a +crimson satin doublet, and the lady was well pleased with him. And as +soon as he was come the betrothal took place, and, immediately after +midnight, a mass was said and they were married. Then they went to +bed together until daybreak, when the bridegroom told his wife that to +escape discovery he must needs return to the college. + +After putting on his crimson satin doublet and his long robe, without +forgetting his coif of black silk, he bade his wife, who was still in +bed, good-bye, promising that he would come every evening to sup with +her, but that at dinner they must not wait for him. So he went away and +left his wife, who esteemed herself the happiest woman alive to have +found so excellent a match. And the young wedded Friar returned to the +old father and brought him the five hundred ducats, as had been agreed +between them when arranging the marriage. + +In the evening he failed not to return and sup with her, who believed +him to be her husband, and so well did he make himself liked by her and +by his mother-in-law, that they would not have exchanged him for the +greatest Prince alive. + +This manner of life continued for some time, but God in His kindness +takes pity upon those that are deceived without fault of their own, and +so in His mercy and goodness it came to pass that one morning the lady +and her daughter felt a great desire to go and hear mass at St. Francis, +(1) and visit their good father confessor through whose means they +deemed themselves so well provided, the one with a son-in-law and the +other with a husband. + + 1 The church of the Grey Friars’ monastery, St Francis + being their patron.--B. J. + +It chanced that they did not find the confessor aforesaid nor any other +that they knew, and, while waiting to see whether the father would +come, they were pleased to hear high mass, which was just beginning. And +whilst the young wife was giving close heed to the divine service and +its mystery, she was stricken with astonishment on seeing the Priest +turn himself about to pronounce the _Dominus vobiscum_, for it seemed +to her that it was her husband or else his very fellow. She uttered, +however, not a word, but waited till he should turn round again, when, +looking still more carefully at him, she had no doubt that it was indeed +he. Then she twitched her mother, who was deep in contemplation, and +said-- + +“Alas! madam, what is it that I see?” + +“What is it?” said her mother. + +“That is my husband,” she replied, “who is singing mass, or else ‘tis +one as like him as can be.” + +“I pray you, my daughter,” replied the mother, who had not carefully +observed him, “do not take such a thought into your head. It is +impossible that men who are so holy should have practised such deceit. +You would sin grievously against God if you believed such a thing.” + +Nevertheless the mother did not cease looking at him, and when it came +to the _Ite missa est_ she indeed perceived that no two sons of the same +mother were ever so much alike. Yet she was so simple that she would +fain have said, “O God, save me from believing what I see.” Since her +daughter was concerned in the matter, however, she would not suffer it +to remain in uncertainty, and resolved to learn the truth. + +When evening was come, and the husband (who had perceived nothing of +them) was about to return, the mother said to her daughter-- + +“We shall now, if you are willing, find out the truth concerning your +husband. When he is in bed I will go to him, and then, while he is not +thinking, you will pluck off his coif from behind, and we shall see +whether he be tonsured like the Friar who said mass.” + +As it was proposed, so was it done. As soon as the wicked husband was in +bed, the old lady came and took both his hands as though in sport--her +daughter took off his coif, and there he was with his fine tonsure. At +this both mother and daughter were as greatly astonished as might be, +and forthwith they called their servants to seize him and bind him fast +till the morning, nor did any of his excuses or fine speeches avail him +aught. + +When day was come, the lady sent for her confessor, making as though she +had some great secret to tell him, whereupon he came with all speed, and +then, reproaching him for the deceit that he had practised on her, she +had him seized like the other. Afterwards she sent for the officers of +justice, in whose hands she placed them both. It is to be supposed that +if the judges were honest men they did not suffer the offence to go +unpunished. (2) + + 2 There is some little resemblance between this tale and + the 36th of Morlini’s _Novello, De monacho qui duxit + uxorem_.--M. + +“From this story, ladies, you will see that those who have taken vows of +poverty are not free from the temptation of covetousness, which is the +cause of so many ills.” + +“Nay, of so many blessings,” said Saffredent, “for with the five hundred +ducats that the old woman would have stored up there was made much good +cheer, while the poor maiden, who had been longing for a husband, was +thus enabled to have two, and to speak with more knowledge as to the +truth of all hierarchies.” + +“You always hold the falsest opinions,” said Oisille, “that ever I knew. +You think that all women are of your own temper.” + +“Not so, madam, with your good leave,” said Saffredent. “I would give +much that they were as easily satisfied as we are.” + +“That is a wicked speech,” said Oisille, “and there is not one present +but knows the contrary, and that what you say is untrue. The story that +has just been told proves the ignorance of poor women and the wickedness +of those whom we regard as better than the rest of your sex; for neither +mother nor daughter would do aught according to their own fancy, but +subjected desire to good advice.” + +“Some women are so difficult,” said Longarine, “that they think they +ought to have angels instead of men.” + +“And for that reason,” said Simontault, “they often meet with devils, +more especially those who, instead of trusting to God’s grace, think +by their own good sense, or that of others, that they may in this world +find some happiness, though this is granted by none save God, from whom +alone it can come.” + +“How now, Simontault!” said Oisille. “I did not think that you knew so +much good.” + +“Madam,” said Simontault, “‘tis a pity that I have not been proved, for +I see that through lack of knowledge you have already judged ill of me. +Yet I may well practise a Grey Friar’s trade, since a Grey Friar has +meddled with mine.” + +“So you call it your trade,” said Parlamente, “to deceive women? Thus +out of your mouth are you judged.” + +“Had I deceived a hundred thousand,” said Simontault, “I should yet not +have avenged the woes that I have endured for the sake of one alone.” + +“I know,” said Parlamente, “how often you complain of women; yet, +for all that, we see you so merry and hearty that it is impossible +to believe that you have endured all the woes you speak of. But the +‘Compassionless Fair One’ (3) replies that-- + + “‘Tis as well to say as much + To draw some comfort thence.’” + + 3 _La belle Dame sans mercy_, by Alain Chartier.--Ed. + +“You quote a truly notable theologian,” said Simontault, “one who is +not only froward himself, but makes all the ladies so, who have read and +followed his teaching.” + +“Yet his teaching,” said Parlamente, “is as profitable for youthful +dames as any that I know.” + +“If it were indeed true,” said Simontault, “that the ladies were without +compassion, we might as well let our horses rest and our armour grow +rusty until the next war, and think of nothing but household affairs. +And, I pray you, tell me whether it is an excellence in a lady to have +the reputation of being without pity, or charity, or love, or mercy.” + +“Without charity or love,” said Parlamente, “they should not be, but the +word ‘mercy’ sounds so ill among women that they cannot use it without +wounding their honour; for properly speaking ‘mercy’ means to grant a +favour sought, and we well know what the favour is that men desire.” + +“May it please you, madam,” said Simontault, “there are some men who are +so reasonable that they crave nought but speech.” + +“You remind me,” said Parlamente, “of one who was content with a glove.” + +“We must know who this easy lover was,” said Hircan, “and so this time I +give my vote to you.” + +“It will give me pleasure to tell the tale,” said Parlamente, “for it is +full of virtue.” + + +[Illustration: 061.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 063a.jpg The English Lord seizing the Lady’s Glove] + +[The English Lord seizing the Lady’s Glove] + +[Illustration: 063.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LVII_. + + _An English lord for seven years loved a lady without ever + venturing to let her know of it, until one day, when + observing her in a meadow, he lost all colour and control of + feature through a sudden throbbing of the heart that came + upon him. Then she, showing her compassion, at his request + placed her gloved hand upon his heart, whereupon he pressed + it so closely, whilst declaring to her the love he had so + long borne her, that she withdrew it, leaving in its place + her glove. And this glove he afterwards enriched with gems + and fastened upon his doublet above his heart, and showed + himself so graceful and virtuous a lover that he never + sought any more intimate favour of her_. + +King Louis the Eleventh (1) sent the Lord de Montmorency to England as +his ambassador, and so welcome was the latter in that country that the +King and all the Princes greatly esteemed and loved him, and even +made divers of their private affairs known to him in order to have his +counsel upon them. + + 1 Some of the MS. say Louis XII., but we cannot find that + either the eleventh or twelfth Louis sent any Montmorency as + ambassador to England. Ripault-Desormeaux states, however, + in his history of this famous French family, that William de + Montmorency, who, after fighting in Italy under Charles + VIII. and Louis XII., became, governor of the Orléanais and + _chevalier d’honneur_ to Louise of Savoy was one of the + signatories of the treaty concluded with Henry VIII. of + England, after the-battle of Pavia in 1525. We know that + Louise, as Regent of France, at that time sent John Brinon + and John Joachim de Passano as ambassadors to England, and + possibly William de Montmorency accompanied them, since + Desormeaux expressly states that he guaranteed the loyal + observance of the treaty then negotiated. William was the + father of Anne, the famous Constable of France, and died May + 24, 1531. “Geburon,” in the dialogue following the above + tale, mentions that he had well known the Montmorency + referred to, and speaks of him as of a person dead and gone. + It is therefore scarcely likely that Queen Margaret alludes + to Francis de Montmorency, Lord of La Rochepot, who was only + sent on a mission to England in 1546, and survived her by + many years.--L. and Ed. + +One day, at a banquet that the King gave to him, he was seated beside a +lord (2) of high lineage, who had on his doublet a little glove, such +as women wear, fastened with hooks of gold and so adorned upon the +finger-seams with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and pearls, that it was +indeed a glove of great price. + + 2 The French word is _Millor (Milord)_ and this is probably + one of the earliest instances of its employment to designate + a member of the English aristocracy. In such of the _Cent + Nouvelles Nouvelles_ in which English nobles figure, the + latter are invariably called _seigneurs_ or _chevaliers_, + and addressed as _Monseigneur_, Later on, when Brantôme + wrote, the term _un milord anglais_ had become quite common, + and he frequently makes use of it in his various works. + English critics have often sneered at modern French writers + for employing the expression, but it will be seen from this + that they have simply followed a very old tradition.--Ed. + +The Lord de Montmorency looked at it so often that the English lord +perceived he was minded to inquire why it was so choicely ordered; so, +deeming its story to be greatly to his own honour, he thus began-- + +“I can see that you think it strange I should have so magnificently +arrayed a simple glove, and on my part I am still more ready to tell you +the reason, for I deem you an honest gentleman and one who knows what +manner of passion love is, so that if I did well in the matter you will +praise me for it, and if not, make excuse for me, knowing that every +honourable heart must obey the behests of love. You must know, then, +that I have all my life long loved a lady whom I love still, and shall +love even when I am dead, but, as my heart was bolder to fix itself +worthily than were my lips to speak, I remained for seven years without +venturing to make her any sign, through fear that, if she perceived +the truth, I should lose the opportunities I had of often being in her +company; and this I dreaded more than death. However, one day, while I +was observing her in a meadow, a great throbbing of the heart came upon +me, so that I lost all colour and control of feature. Perceiving +this, she asked me what the matter was, and I told her that I felt +an intolerable pain of the heart. She, believing it to be caused by a +different sickness than love, showed herself pitiful towards me, which +prompted me to beg her to lay her hand upon my heart and see how it was +beating. This, more from charity than from any other affection, she did, +and while I held her gloved hand against my heart, it began to beat and +strain in such wise, that she felt that I was speaking the truth. Then I +pressed her hand to my breast, saying-- + +“‘Alas, madam, receive the heart which would fain break forth from my +breast to leap into the hand of her from whom I look for indulgence, +life and pity, and which now constrains me to make known to you the +love that I have so long concealed, for neither my heart nor I can now +control this potent God.’ + +“When she heard those words, she deemed them very strange. She wished +to withdraw her hand, but I held it fast, and the glove remained in her +cruel hand’s place; and having neither before nor since had any more +intimate favour from her, I have fastened this glove upon my heart as +the best plaster I could give it. And I have adorned it with the +richest rings I have, though the glove itself is wealth that I would not +exchange for the kingdom of England, for I deem no happiness on earth so +great as to feel it on my breast.” + +The Lord de Montmorency, who would have rather had a lady’s hand than +her glove, praised his very honourable behaviour, telling him that +he was the truest lover he had ever known, and was worthy of better +treatment, since he set so much value upon so slight a thing; though +perchance, if he had obtained aught better than the glove, the greatness +of his love might have made him die of joy. With this the English lord +agreed, not suspecting that the Lord de Montmorency was mocking him. (3) + + 3 Alluding to this story, Brantôme writes as follows in his + _Dames Galantes_: “You have that English _Milord_ in the + Hundred Tales of the Queen of Navarre, who wore his + mistress’s glove at his side, beautifully adorned. I myself + have known many gentlemen who, before wearing their silken + hose, would beg their ladies and mistresses to try them on + and wear them for some eight or ten days, rather more than + less, and who would then themselves wear them in extreme + veneration and contentment, both of mind and body.”-- + Lalanne’s _OEuvres de Brantôme_, vol. ix. p. 309.--L. + +“If all men were so honourable as this one, the ladies might well trust +them, since the cost would be merely a glove.” + +“I knew the Lord de Montmorency well,” said Geburon, “and I am sure that +he would not have cared to fare after the English fashion. Had he been +contented with so little, he would not have been so successful in love +as he was, for the old song says-- + + ‘Of a cowardly lover + No good is e’er heard.’” + +“You may be sure,” said Saffredent, “that the poor lady withdrew her +hand with all speed, when she felt the beating of his heart, because she +thought that he was about to die, and people say that there is nothing +women loathe more than to touch dead bodies.” (4) + + 4 Most of this sentence, deficient in our MS., is taken + from MS. No. 1520.--L. + +“If you had spent as much time in hospitals as in taverns,” said +Ennasuite, “you would not speak in that way, for you would have seen +women shrouding dead bodies, which men, bold as they are, often fear to +touch.” + +“It is true,” said Saffredent, “that there is none upon whom penance has +been laid but does the opposite of that wherein he formerly had delight, +like a lady I once saw in a notable house, who, to atone for her delight +in kissing one she loved, was found at four o’clock in the morning +kissing the corpse of a gentleman who had been killed the day before, +and whom she had never liked more than any other. Then every one knew +that this was a penance for past delights. But as all the good deeds +done by women are judged ill by men, I am of opinion that, dead or +alive, there should be no kissing except after the fashion that God +commands.” + +“For my part,” said Hircan, “I care so little about kissing women, +except my own wife, that I will assent to any law you please, yet I +pity the young folk whom you deprive of this trifling happiness, thus +annulling the command of St. Paul, who bids us kiss _in osculo sancto._” + (5) + + 5 _Romans_ xvi. 16; 1 _Corinthians_ xvi. 20; 2 + _Corinthians_ xiii. 12; I _Thessalonians_ v. 26. Also 1 + _Peter_ v. 14.--M. + +“If St. Paul had been such a man as you are,” said Nomerfide, “we should +indeed have required proof of the Spirit of God that spoke in him.” + +“In the end,” said Geburon, “you will doubt Holy Scripture rather than +give up one of your petty affectations.” + +“God forbid,” said Oisille, “that we should doubt Holy Scripture, but +we put small faith in your lies. There is no woman but knows what her +belief should be, namely, never to doubt the Word of God or believe the +word of man.” + +“Yet,” said Simontauit, “I believe that there are more men deceived by +women than [women] by men. The slenderness of women’s love towards us +keeps them from believing our truths, whilst our exceeding love towards +them makes us trust so completely in their falsehoods, that we are +deceived before we suspect such a thing to be possible.” + +“Methinks,” said Parlamente, “you have been hearing some fool complain +of being duped by a wanton woman, for your words carry but little +weight, and need the support of an example. If, therefore, you know of +one, I give you my place that you may tell it to us. I do not say that +we are bound to believe you on your mere word, but it will assuredly not +make our ears tingle to hear you speak ill of us, since we know what is +the truth.” + +“Well, since it is for me to speak,” said Dagoucin, “‘tis I who will +tell you the tale.” + + +[Illustration: 070.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 071a. The Gentleman Mocked by the Ladies When Returning From The False +Tryst] + +[The Gentleman Mocked by the Ladies When Returning From The False Tryst] + +[Illustration: 071.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LVIII._ + + _A gentleman, through putting too much trust in the + truthfulness of a lady whom he had offended by forsaking her + for others just when she was most in love with him, was, by + a false tryst, deceived by her, and bemocked by the whole + Court_. + +At the Court of King Francis the First there was a lady (1) of excellent +wit, who, by her grace, virtue and pleasantness of speech, had won the +hearts of several lovers. With these she right well knew how to pass +the time, but without hurt to her honour, conversing with them in such +pleasant fashion that they knew not what to think, for those who were +the most confident were reduced to despair, whilst those that despaired +the most became hopeful. Nevertheless, while fooling most of them, she +could not help greatly loving one whom she called her cousin, a name +which furnished a pretext for closer fellowship. + + 1 M. de Lincy surmises that Margaret is referring to + herself both here and in the following tale, which concerns + the same lady. His only reason for the supposition, however, + is that the lady’s views on certain love matters are akin to + those which the Queen herself professed.--Ed. + +However, as there is nothing in this world of firm continuance, their +friendship often turned to anger and then was renewed in stronger sort +than ever, so that the whole Court could not but be aware of it. + +One day the lady, both to let it be seen that she was wholly void +of passion, and to vex him, for love of whom she had endured much +annoyance, showed him a fairer countenance than ever she had done +before. Thereupon the gentleman, who lacked boldness neither in love nor +in war, began hotly to press the suit that he many a time previously had +addressed to her. + +She, pretending to be wholly vanquished by pity, promised to grant his +request, and told him that she would with this intent go into her room, +which was on a garret floor, where she knew there was nobody. And as +soon as he should see that she was gone he was to follow her without +fail, for he would find her ready to give proof of the good-will that +she bore him. + +The gentleman, believing what she said, was exceedingly well pleased, +and began to amuse himself with the other ladies until he should see +her gone, and might quickly follow her. But she, who lacked naught of +woman’s craftiness, betook herself to my Lady Margaret, daughter of the +King, and to the Duchess of Montpensier, (2) to whom she said-- + +“I will if you are willing, show you the fairest diversion you have ever +seen.” + + 2 The former is Margaret of France, Duchess of Savoy and + Berry. Born in June 1523, she died in September 1574.-- + Queen Margaret was her godmother. When only three years old, + she was promised in marriage to Louis of Savoy, eldest son + of Duke Charles III., and he dying, she espoused his younger + brother, Emmanuel Philibert, in July 1549. Graceful and + pretty as a child (see _ante_, vol. i. p. xlviii.), she + became, thanks to the instruction of the famous Michael de + l’ Hôpital, one of the most accomplished women of her time, + and Brantôme devotes an article to her in his _Dames + Illustres_ (Lalanne, v. viii. pp. 328-37). See also Hilarion + de Coste’s _Éloges et Vies des Reines, Princesses, &c_., + Paris, 1647, vol. ii. p. 278. + + The Duchess of Montpensier, also referred to above, is + Jacqueline de Longwick (now Longwy), Countess of Bar-sur- + Seine, daughter of J. Ch. de Longwick, Lord of Givry, and of + Jane, _bâtarde_ of Angoulême. In 1538 Jacqueline was + married to Louis II. de Bourbon, Duke of Montpensier. She + gained great influence at the French Court, both under + Francis I. and afterwards, and De Thou says of her that she + was possessed of great wit and wisdom, far superior to the + century in which she lived. She died in August 1561, and was + the mother of Francis I., Duke of Montpensier, sometimes + called the Dauphin of Auvergne, who fought at Jarnac, + Moncontour, Arques, and Ivry, against Henry of Navarre.--L., + B. J. and Ed. + +They, being by no means enamoured of melancholy, begged that she would +tell them what it was. + +“You know such a one,” she replied, “as worthy a gentleman as lives, and +as bold. You are aware how many ill turns he has done me, and that, just +when I loved him most, he fell in love with others, and so caused me +more grief than I have ever suffered to be seen. Well, God has now +afforded me the means of taking revenge upon him. + +“I am forthwith going to my own room, which is overhead, and immediately +afterwards, if it pleases you to keep watch, you will see him follow me. +When he has passed the galleries, and is about to go up the stairs, I +pray you come both to the window and help me to cry ‘Thief!’ You will +then see his rage, which, I am sure, will not become him badly, and, +even if he does not revile me aloud, I am sure he will none the less do +so in his heart.” + +This plan was not agreed to without laughter, for there was no gentleman +that tormented the ladies more than he did, whilst he was so greatly +liked and esteemed by all, that for nothing in the world would any one +have run the risk of his raillery. + +It seemed, moreover, to the two Princesses that they would themselves +share in the glory which the other lady looked to win over this +gentleman. + +Accordingly, as soon as they saw the deviser of the plot go out, they +set themselves to observe the gentleman’s demeanour. But little time +went by before he shifted his quarters, and, as soon as he had passed +the door, the ladies went out into the gallery, in order that they might +not lose sight of him. + +Suspecting nothing, he wrapped his cloak about his neck, so as to hide +his face, and went down the stairway to the court, but, seeing some one +whom he did not desire to have for witness, he came back by another +way, and then went down into the court a second time. The ladies saw +everything without being perceived by him, and when he reached the +stairway, by which he thought he might safely reach his sweetheart’s +chamber, they went to the window, whence they immediately perceived +the other lady, who began crying out ‘Thief!’ at the top of her voice; +whereupon the two ladies below answered her so loudly that their voices +were heard all over the castle. + +I leave you to imagine with what vexation the gentleman fled to his +lodgings. He was not so well muffled as not to be known by those who +were in the mystery, and they often twitted him with it, as did even +the lady who had done him this ill turn, saying that she had been well +revenged upon him. + +It happened, however, that he was so ready with his replies and evasions +as to make them believe that he had quite suspected the plan, and had +only consented to visit the lady in order to furnish them with some +diversion, for, said he, he would not have taken so much trouble for +her sake, seeing that his love for her had long since flown. The ladies +would not admit the truth of this, so that the point is still in doubt; +nevertheless, it is probable that he believed the lady. And since he +was so wary and so bold that few men of his age and time could match +and none could surpass him (as has been proved by his very brave and +knightly death), (3) you must, it seems to me, confess that men of +honour love in such wise as to be often duped, by placing too much trust +in the truthfulness of the ladies. + + 3 This naturally brings Bonnivet to mind, though of course + the gay, rash admiral was not the only Frenchman of the time + who spent his life in making love and waging war.--Ed. + +“In good faith,” said Ennasuite, “I commend this lady for the trick she +played; for when a man is loved by a lady and forsakes her for another, +her vengeance cannot be too severe.” + +“Yes,” said Parlamente, “if she is loved by him; but there are some who +love men without being certain that they are loved in return, and when +they find that their sweethearts love elsewhere, they call them fickle. +It therefore happens that discreet women are never deceived by such +talk, for they give no heed or belief even to those people who speak +truly, lest they should prove to be liars, seeing that the true and the +false speak but one tongue.” + +“If all women were of your opinion,” said Simon-tault, “the gentlemen +might pack up their prayers at once; but, for all that you and those +like you may say, we shall never believe that women are as unbelieving +as they are fair. And in this wise we shall live as content as you would +fain render us uneasy by your maxims.” + +“Truly,” said Longarine, “knowing as I well do who the lady is that +played that fine trick upon the gentleman, it is impossible for me not +to believe in any craftiness on her part. Since she did not spare her +husband, ‘twere fitting she should not spare her lover.” + +“Her husband, say you?” said Simontault. “You know, then, more than I +do, and so, since you wish it, I give you my place that you may tell us +your opinion of the matter.” + +“And since you wish it,” said Longarine, “I will do so.” + + +[Illustration: 078.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 079a. The Lady discovering her Husband with the Waiting-woman] + +[The Lady discovering her Husband with the Waiting-woman] + +[Illustration: 079.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LIX_. + + _This same lady, finding that her husband took it ill that + she should have lovers with whom she amused herself without + hurt to her honour, kept close watch upon him, and so + discovered how pleasantly he addressed himself to one of her + waiting-women. This woman she gained upon, made her consent + to what her husband solicited, and then surprised him in + such error that to atone for it, he was forced to confess + that he deserved greater punishment than herself; by which + means she was afterwards able to live as her fancy listed_. + +The lady of your story was wedded to a rich gentleman of high and +ancient lineage, and had married him on account of the great affection +that they bore to one another. + +Being a woman most pleasant of speech, she by no means concealed from +her husband that she had lovers whom she made game of for her pastime, +and, at first, her husband shared in her pleasure. But at last this +manner of life became irksome to him, for on the one part he took it ill +that she should hold so much converse with those that were no kinsfolk +or friends of his own, and on the other, he was greatly vexed by the +expense to which he was put in sustaining her magnificence and in +following the Court. + +He therefore withdrew to his own house as often as he was able, but so +much company came thither to see him that the expenses of his household +became scarcely any less, for, wherever his wife might be, she always +found means to pass her time in sports, dances, and all such matters as +youthful dames may use with honour. And when sometimes her husband told +her, laughing, that their expenses were too great, she would reply that +she promised never to make him a “coqu” or cuckold, but only a “coquin,” + that is, a beggar; for she was so exceedingly fond of dress, that she +must needs have the bravest and richest at the Court. (1) Her husband +took her thither as seldom as possible, but she did all in her power +to go, and to this end behaved in a most loving fashion towards her +husband, who would not willingly have refused her a much harder request. + + 1 As Queen Margaret was by no means over fond of gorgeous + apparel and display, this passage is in contradiction with + M. de Lincy’s surmise that the lady of this and the + preceding tale may be herself. In any case the narrative + could only apply to the period of her first marriage, and + this was in no wise a love-match. Yet we are told at the + outset of the above story that the lady and gentleman had + married on account of the great affection between them. On + the other hand, these details may have been introduced the + better to conceal the identity of the persons referred to.-- + Ed. + +Now one day, when she had found that all her devices could not induce +him to make this journey to the Court, she perceived that he was very +pleasant in manner with a chamber-woman (2) she had, and thereupon +thought she might turn the matter to her own advantage. Taking the girl +apart, she questioned her cleverly, using both wiles and threats, in +such wise that the girl confessed that, ever since she had been in the +house, not a day had passed on which her master had not sought her love; +but (she added) she would rather die than do aught against God and her +honour, more especially after the honour which the lady had done her in +taking her into her service, for this would make such wickedness twice +as great. + + 2 The French expression here is _femme de chambre à + chaperon_. The _chaperon_ in this instance was a cap with a + band of velvet worn across it as a sign of gentle and even + noble birth. The attendant referred to above would therefore + probably be a young woman of good descent, constrained by + circumstances to enter domestic service.--B. J. and Ed. + +On hearing of her husband’s unfaithfulness, the lady immediately felt +both grief and joy. Her grief was that her husband, despite all his show +of loving her, should be secretly striving to put her to so much shame +in her own household, and this when she believed herself far more +beautiful and graceful than the woman whom he sought in her stead. +But she rejoiced to think that she might surprise her husband in such +manifest error that he would no longer be able to reproach her with her +lovers, nor with her desire to dwell at Court; and, to bring this about, +she begged the girl gradually to grant her husband what he sought upon +certain conditions that she made known to her. + +The girl was minded to make some difficulty, but when her mistress +warranted the safety both of her life and of her honour, she consented +to do whatever might be her pleasure. + +The gentleman, on continuing his pursuit of the girl, found her +countenance quite changed towards him, and therefore urged his suit more +eagerly than had been his wont; but she, knowing by heart the part +she had to play, made objection of her poverty, and said that, if she +complied with his desire, she would be turned away by her mistress, in +whose service she looked to gain a good husband. + +The gentleman forthwith replied that she need give no thought to any +such matters, since he would bestow her in marriage more profitably than +her mistress would be able to do, and further, would contrive the matter +so secretly that none would know of it. + +Upon this they came to an agreement, and, on considering what place +would be most suited for such a fine business, the girl said that she +knew of none better or more remote from suspicion than a cottage in the +park, where there was a chamber and a bed suitable for the occasion. + +The gentleman, who would not have thought any place unsuitable, was +content with the one she named, and was very impatient for the appointed +day and hour to come. + +The girl kept her word to her mistress, and told her in full the whole +story of the plan, and how it was to be put into execution on the morrow +after dinner. She would not fail, said she, to give a sign when the time +came to go to the cottage, and she begged her mistress to be watchful, +and in no wise fail to be present at the appointed hour, in order to +save her from the danger into which her obedience was leading her. + +This her mistress swore, begging her to be without fear, and promising +that she would never forsake her, but would protect her from her +husband’s wrath. + +When the morrow was come and dinner was over, the gentleman was more +pleasant with his wife than ever, and although this was not very +agreeable to her, she dissembled so well that he did not perceive the +truth. + +After dinner she asked him how he was minded to pass away the time, and +he answered that he knew of nothing better than to play at “cent.” (3) +Forthwith everything was made ready for the game, but the lady pretended +that she did not care to take part in it, and would find diversion +enough in looking at the players. + + 3 This is probably a reference to the card game now called + piquet, usually played for a hundred points. It is one of + the oldest of its kind. See Rabelais’ _Gargantua_, book i. + chap, xxii.--L. + +Just before he sat down to play, the gentleman failed not to ask the +girl to remember her promise to him, and while he was playing she passed +through the room, making a sign to her mistress which signified that +she was about to set out on the pilgrimage she had to make. The sign was +clearly seen by the lady, but her husband perceived nothing of it. + +An hour later, however, one of his servants made him a sign from a +distance, whereupon he told his wife that his head ached somewhat, and +that he must needs rest and take the air. She, knowing the nature of his +sickness as well as he did himself, asked him whether she should play +in his stead, and he consented, saying that he would very soon return. +However, she assured him that she could take his place for a couple of +hours without weariness. + +So the gentleman withdrew to his room, and thence by an alley into his +park. + +The lady, who knew another and shorter way, waited for a little while, +and then, suddenly feigning to be seized with colic, gave her hand at +play to another. + +As soon as she was out of the room, she put off her high-heeled shoes +and ran as quickly as she could to the place, where she had no desire +that the bargain should be struck without her. And so speedily did she +arrive, that, when she entered the room by another door, her husband was +but just come in. Then, hiding herself behind the door, she listened to +the fair and honest discourse that he held to her maid. But when she +saw that he was coming near to the criminal point, she seized him from +behind, saying-- + +“Nay, I am too near that you should take another.” + +It is needless to ask whether the gentleman was in extreme wrath, both +at being balked of the delight he had looked to obtain, and at having +his wife, whose affection he now greatly feared to lose for ever, know +more of him than he desired. He thought, however, that the plot had been +contrived by the girl, and (without speaking to his wife) he ran after +her with such fury that, had not his wife rescued her from his hands, +he would have killed her. He declared that she was the wickedest jade +he had ever known, and that, if his wife had waited to see the end, she +would have found that he was only mocking her, for, instead of doing +what she expected, he would have chastised her with rods. + +But his wife, knowing what words of the sort were worth, set no value +upon them, and addressed such reproaches to him that he was in great +fear lest she should leave him. He promised her all that she asked, +and, after her sage reproaches, confessed that it was wrong of him to +complain that she had lovers; since a fair and honourable woman is none +the less virtuous for being loved, provided that she do or say nothing +contrary to her honour; whereas a man deserves heavy punishment when he +is at pains to pursue a woman that loves him not, to the wronging of +his wife and his own conscience. He would therefore, said he, never more +prevent his wife from going to Court, nor take it ill that she should +have lovers, for he knew that she spoke with them more in jest than in +affection. + +This talk was not displeasing to the lady, for it seemed to her that +she had gained an important point. Nevertheless she spoke quite to the +contrary, pretending that she had no delight in going to Court, since +she no longer possessed his love, without which all assemblies were +displeasing to her; and saying that a woman who was truly loved by her +husband, and who loved him in return, as she did, carried with her a +safe-conduct that permitted her to speak with one and all, and to be +derided by none. + +The poor gentleman was at so much pains to assure her of the love he +bore her, that at last they left the place good friends. That they might +not again fall into such trouble, he begged her to turn away the girl +through whom he had undergone so much distress. This she did, but did it +by bestowing her well and honourably in marriage, and at her husband’s +expense. + +And, to make the lady altogether forget his folly, the gentleman soon +took her to Court, in such style and so magnificently arrayed that she +had good reason to be content. + +“This, ladies, was what made me say I did not find the trick she played +upon one of her lovers a strange one, knowing, as I did, the trick she +had played upon her husband.” + +“You have described to us a very cunning wife and a very stupid +husband,” said Hircan. “Having advanced so far, he ought not to have +come to a standstill and stopped on so fair a road.” + +“And what should he have done?” said Longarine. + +“What he had taken in hand to do,” said Hircan, “for his wife was no +less wrathful with him for his intention to do evil than she would have +been had he carried the evil into execution. Perchance, indeed, she +would have respected him more if she had seen that he was a bolder +gallant.” + +“That is all very well,” said Ennasuite, “but where will you find a man +to face two women at once? His wife would have defended her rights and +the girl her virginity.” + +“True,” said Hircan, “but a strong bold man does not fear to assail two +that are weak, nor will he ever fail to vanquish them.” + +“I readily understand,” said Ennasuite, “that if he had drawn his sword +he might have killed them both, but otherwise I cannot see that he had +any means of escape. I pray you, therefore, tell us what you would have +done?” + +“I should have taken my wife in my arms,” said Hircan, “and have carried +her out. Then I should have had my own way with her maid by love or by +force.” + +“‘Tis enough, Hircan,” said Parlamente, “that you know how to do evil.” + +“I am sure, Parlamente,” he replied, “that I do not scandalise the +innocence in whose presence I speak, and by what I have said I do not +mean that I support a wicked deed. But I wonder at the attempt, which +was in itself worthless, and at the attempter, who, for fear rather than +for love of his wife, failed to complete it. I praise a man who loves +his wife as God ordains; but when he does not love her, I think little +of him for fearing her.” + +“Truly,” replied Parlamente, “if love did not render you a good husband, +I should make small account of what you might do through fear.” + +“You are quite safe, Parlamente,” said Hircan, “for the love I bear you +makes me more obedient than could the fear of either death or hell.” + +“You may say what you please,” said Parlamente, “but I have reason to be +content with what I have seen and known of you. As for what I have not +seen, I have never wished to make guess or still less inquiry.” + +“I think it great folly,” said Nomerfide, “for women to inquire so +curiously concerning their husbands, or husbands concerning their wives. +Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, without giving so much heed +to the morrow.” + +“Yet it is sometimes needful,” said Oisille, “to inquire into matters +that may touch the honour of a house in order to set them right, though +not to pass evil judgment upon persons, seeing that there is none who +does not fail.” + +“Many,” said Geburon, “have at divers times fallen into trouble for lack +of well and carefully inquiring into the errors of their wives.” + +“I pray you,” said Longarine, “if you know any such instance, do not +keep it from us.” + +“I do indeed know one,” said Geburon, “and since you so desire, I will +relate it.” + + +[Illustration: 090.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 091a. The Chanter of Blois delivering his Mistress from the Grave] + +[The Chanter of Blois delivering his Mistress from the Grave] + +[Illustration: 091.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LX_. + + _A man of Paris, through not making good inquiry concerning + his wife, whom he believed dead, though she was indeed + making good cheer with a chanter to the King, married a + second wife, whom, after having several children by her and + consorting with her for fourteen or fifteen years, he was + constrained to leave, in order to take his first wife back + again_. + +In the city of Paris there was a man who was so good-natured that he +would have scrupled to believe a man abed with his wife, even if he had +seen him with his own eyes. This poor man married a woman whose conduct +was as bad as could be; nevertheless he perceived nothing of it, and +treated her as though she were the most virtuous woman alive. One +day, however, when King Louis XII. came to Paris, his wife surrendered +herself to one of the choir-men of the aforesaid sovereign, and when she +found that the King was leaving Paris and that she would no longer +be able to see the singer, she resolved to follow him and forsake her +husband. To this the chanter agreed, and brought her to a house that he +had near Blois, (1) where for a long while they lived together. The poor +husband, finding that he had lost his wife, sought her everywhere; and +at last it was told him that she was gone away with the chanter. + +Wishing to recover the lost ewe which he had so badly watched, he wrote +many letters to her begging her to return to him, and saying that he +would take her back if she were willing to be a virtuous woman. But she +took such great delight in listening to the songs of the chanter, that +she had forgotten her husband’s voice, and gave no heed to all his +excellent words, but mocked at them. + +Therefore the husband, in great wrath, gave her to know that, since +she would return to him in no other way, he would demand her in legal +fashion of the Church. (2) The wife, dreading that if the law should +take the matter in hand she and her chanter would fare badly, devised a +stratagem worthy of such a woman as herself. Feigning sickness, she sent +for some honourable women of the town to come and see her, and this they +willingly did, hoping that her illness might be a means of withdrawing +her from her evil life, with which purpose they addressed the sagest +admonitions to her. Thereupon she, whilst pretending to be grievously +sick, made a show of weeping and acknowledging her sinfulness in such +sort that she gained the pity of the whole company, who quite believed +that she was speaking from the bottom of her heart. And, finding her +thus subdued and sorry, they began to comfort her, telling her that God +was in no wise so terrible as many preachers represented Him, and that +He would never refuse to show her mercy. + + 1 Louis XII.’s favourite place of residence.--Ed. + + 2 Implying the Officialité or episcopal court.--B. J. + +After this excellent discourse, they sent for a virtuous man to come +and confess her, and on the morrow the priest of the parish came to +administer the Holy Sacrament. This she received so piously, that +all the virtuous women of the town who were present wept to see her +devoutness, praising God, who of His goodness had in this wise shown +compassion upon this poor creature. + +Afterwards she pretended that she could no longer take food, whereupon +the extreme unction was brought by the priest and received by her with +many pious signs; for (as they thought) she was scarcely able to speak. +She continued thus for a great while, and it seemed as though she were +gradually losing her sight, hearing and other senses, whereat there came +from all a cry of “Jesus!” As night was at hand and the ladies were far +from home, they all withdrew; and just as they were leaving the house it +was told them that she was dead, whereupon, saying their _De profundis_ +for her, they returned to their houses. + +The priest asked the chanter where he would have her buried, and the +other replied that she had desired to be buried in the cemetery, +and that it would be well to bring her there at night. So the poor +unfortunate was shrouded by a serving-woman, who was careful not to hurt +her, and then by brave torchlight she was carried to the grave that the +chanter had caused to be made. + +When the body passed in front of the houses of those who had been +present when she received the extreme unction, they all came forth +and followed her to the tomb; and there she was soon left by women and +priests alike. The chanter, however, did not go away, but, as soon as he +saw the company some distance off, he and the serving-woman opened the +grave wherein was his sweetheart more alive than ever, and he sent her +secretly to his house, where for a long time he kept her concealed. + +The husband, who was in pursuit of her, came as far as Blois to demand +justice, when he found that she was dead and buried according to the +testimony of all the ladies of Blois. They told him, too, what a good +end she had made, and the worthy man was rejoiced to think that his +wife’s soul was in Paradise, and himself rid of her wicked body. + +In this wise well content, he betook himself back to Paris, where he +married a beautiful and virtuous young woman, and a good housewife, by +whom he had several children, and with whom he lived for fourteen or +fifteen years. But at last rumour, which can keep nothing hid, advised +him that his wife was not dead, but was still dwelling with the wicked +chanter. The poor man concealed the matter as well as he was able, +pretending to know nothing about it, and hoping that it was a lie. But +his wife, who was a discreet woman, was told of it, and such was her +anguish at the tidings that she was like to die of grief. Had it been +possible without offence to her conscience, she would gladly have +concealed her misfortune, but it was not possible. The Church +immediately took the affair in hand, and first of all separated them +from each other until the truth of the matter should be known. + +Then was this poor man obliged to leave the good and go after the bad, +and in this wise he came to Blois shortly after Francis the First had +become king. Here he found Queen Claude and my Lady the Regent, (3) to +whom he made his complaint, asking for her whom he would gladly not have +found, but whom, to the great compassion of the whole company, he was +now obliged to see. + + 3 This shows that the incidents of the tale occurred in the + summer or autumn of 1515, when Francis I. was absent in + Italy conducting the campaign which resulted in the victory + of Marignano and the surrender of Milan.--Ed. + +When his wife was brought before him, she strove for a long while to +maintain that he was not her husband, which he would willingly have +believed had he been able. More disappointed than abashed, she told him +that she would rather die than go back with him, and at this he was well +pleased; but the ladies in whose presence she spoke in this unseemly +fashion condemned her to return, and so rated the chanter with many a +threat, that he was obliged to tell his ugly sweetheart to go back with +her husband, and to declare that he himself would never see her more. + +Rejected thus on all sides, the poor unfortunate withdrew to a home in +which she was fated to meet with better treatment from her husband than +she had deserved. + +“You see, ladies, why I say that if the poor husband had been more +watchful over his wife, he would not thus have lost her. A thing that is +well guarded is difficult to lose, but heedlessness makes the thief.” + +“‘Tis a strange thing,” said Hircan, “how strong love is just where it +seems most unreasonable.” + +“I have heard,” said Simontault, “that it were easier to break two +marriages than to sunder the love of a priest and his serving-maid.” + +“I believe it,” said Ennasuite; “for those who bind others together in +marriage, are so well able to tie the knot that nought but death can +destroy it. Theologians, moreover, hold that spiritual language is of +more effect than any other, and in consequence spiritual love surpasses +any other kind.” + +“It is a thing that I cannot forgive in ladies,” said Dagoucin, “when +they forsake an honourable husband or a lover for a priest, however +handsome and worthy the latter may be.” + +“I pray you, Dagoucin,” said Hircan, “intermeddle not with our Holy +Mother Church. Be assured that ‘tis a great delight for timorous and +secret-loving women to sin with those who can absolve them; for there +are some who are more ashamed to confess a thing than to do it.” + +“You speak,” said Oisille, “of those who have no knowledge of God, and +who think not that secret matters are one day revealed in presence of +the Company of Heaven. But I think that it is not for confession’s sake +that they go after confessors; for the Enemy has so blinded them that +they are more concerned to attach themselves where they think there is +most concealment and security, than anxious to obtain absolution for the +wickedness of which they do not repent.” + +“Repent, say you?” said Saffredent. “Nay, they deem themselves holier +than other women. I am sure that there are some who deem it honourable +in themselves that they are constant in such love.” + +“You speak in such a manner,” said Oisille to Saffredent, “that I think +you know of some one of that kind. I pray you, therefore, begin the Day +tomorrow by telling us what you know. But now the last bell for vespers +is already ringing; for our friends the monks went off as soon as they +had heard the tenth tale, and left us to finish our discussions among +ourselves.” + +At these words they all rose and came to the church, where they found +the monks awaiting them. Then, after hearing vespers, they all supped +together, talking the while of many excellent stories. After supper they +went, according to their wont, to disport themselves somewhat in the +meadow, and then retired to rest, in order that their memories might be +the sounder on the morrow. + + +[Illustration: 099.jpg Tailpiece] + + + + +SEVENTH DAY. + +_On the Seventh Day relation is made of such as have done quite contrary +to their duty or desire_. + + + + +PROLOGUE. + +In the morning the Lady Oisille failed not to administer to them +wholesome nutriment, which she did by reading of the acts and virtuous +deeds of the glorious knights and apostles of Jesus Christ, as related +by St. Luke, telling them withal that these relations should suffice to +make them long for the return of such a time, and to make them weep +for the uncomeliness of this age as compared with that. When she had +sufficiently read and expounded to them the beginning of this excellent +book, she begged them to go to the church in such union as that in which +the Apostles were wont to pray, seeking of God the mercy which is never +refused to those who ask for it in faith. Her counsel was approved by +all, and they came to the church just as the Mass of the Holy Spirit +was beginning; this seemed to them very apt to the occasion, and they +hearkened to the service in great devotion. + +Afterwards they went to dinner, where they called to mind the apostolic +life, and took such great delight in it that it was as though their +undertaking had been forgotten. But Nomerfide, who was the youngest, +noticed this, and said, “The Lady Oisille has made us so devout that we +are letting slip the hour at which we are wont to withdraw, in order to +make ready for the relating of our tales.” + +Her words caused the whole company to rise, and, after they had been for +a while in their rooms, they failed not to repair to the meadow as on +the day before. When they were seated at their ease, the Lady Oisille +said to Saffredent, “Although I am certain that you will say nothing to +the advantage of women, yet I must call upon you to tell the tale that +you had in readiness yester evening.” + +“I protest, madam,” replied Saffredent, “against winning the repute of +a slanderer through telling the truth, or losing the favour of virtuous +ladies through relating the deeds of the wanton. I have felt what it is +to lack their presence, and had I equally lacked their fair favours, I +had not been alive to-day.” + +So saying, he turned his eyes away from her who was the cause of his +happiness and of his woe; and, looking upon Ennasuite, caused her to +blush as deeply as though his words had been directed to her. Yet was he +none the less understood by her whom he desired should understand him. +The Lady Oisille then assured him that he might freely speak the truth +at the cost of any person concerned; whereupon he thus began:-- + + +[Illustration: 105a. The Lady returning to her Lover, the Canon of Autun] + +[The Lady returning to her Lover, the Canon of Autun] + +[Illustration: 105.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXI_. + + _A husband is reconciled with his wife after she had lived + during fourteen or fifteen years with a Canon of Autun_. + +Near the town of Autun there lived a very beautiful woman, who was +tall, fair, and as handsome of feature as any I have ever seen. She was +married to an honest man who seemed somewhat younger than herself, and +who loved and treated her well enough to give her reason for content. + +A little while after they were married, he took her to the town of +Autun, where he had business; and while he was engaged with the law, his +wife would go to the church to pray God for him. + +She repaired so often to this holy place that a very rich Canon fell in +love with her, and wooed her so urgently that the unhappy creature gave +herself up to him. Her husband had no suspicion of this, however, for he +gave more thought to the guarding of his property than of his wife. + +When the time for departure was come, and they must needs return to +their home, which was full seven leagues from the town, great was the +woman’s sorrow. But the Canon promised that he would often go and see +her, and this he did, pretending to be making some journey which led +him past the house. The gentleman, however, was not so foolish as not to +perceive the truth, and he so skilfully contrived matters, that when the +Canon came thither he no longer met the wife, who was too well hidden +by her husband to allow of his having any speech with her. The wife, +knowing her husband’s jealousy, gave no sign that this was displeasing +to her; nevertheless, she resolved to set things to rights, for she felt +herself as it were in hell, deprived as she was of the sight of her God. + +One day, when her husband was abroad, she found a means to occupy her +servants, both men and women, after such a fashion that she was left +alone in the house. Immediately, she took what was needful, and, with no +company save that of the wanton love she carried with her, she repaired +on foot to Autun. Here she arrived none too late to be recognised by her +Canon, who kept her shut up in hiding for more than a year, and this in +spite of the monitions and excommunications that were procured against +him by her husband. + +The latter, finding that he had no other remedy, at last complained to +the Bishop, who had an Archdeacon, as worthy a man as any at that time +in France. This Archdeacon himself searched with great diligence through +all the Canon’s houses, until he discovered the one in which the woman +was being kept in concealment, whereupon he cast her into prison, and +laid heavy penance upon the Canon. + +The husband, knowing that his wife had been recovered by the counsels of +the Archdeacon and divers other excellent persons, was content to take +her back on her swearing to him that she would live for the future as +beseemed a virtuous woman. + +This the worthy man in his deep love for her readily believed, and, +bringing her back to his house, he treated her as honourably as before, +except that he gave her two old serving-women who never left her, one or +other of them being at all times with her. + +But, however kindly her husband might use her, the wicked love she bore +towards the Canon caused her to regard all rest as torment. And although +she was a very beautiful woman and her husband a man of excellent +constitution, vigorous and strong, she never had any children by him, +her heart being always seven leagues away from her body; this, however, +she concealed so well that it seemed to her husband that, like himself, +she had wholly forgotten the past. + +But in her great wickedness she was not so minded; for, just when she +saw her husband most in love with her and having least suspicion, she +pretended to fall ill, and continued in this pretence until her husband +was in wondrous distress, and anxious to spare nought that might relieve +her. + +However, she played her part so exceedingly well that he, and all in the +house, thought that she was sick unto death, and was growing by degrees +weaker and weaker. Finding that her husband was no less grieved than he +should have been glad, she begged of him that he would authorise her to +make her will, and this with tears he did. + +Having power of bequest, although she had no children, she gave to her +husband what she could, craving at the same time his forgiveness for +her wrong-doing towards him. Then she sent for the priest, confessed +herself, and received the Holy Sacrament of the Altar with such +devoutness, that all wept to see so glorious an end. + +When the evening was come, she begged her husband to send for the +extreme unction, saying that, as she was growing very weak, she was in +fear lest she might not live to receive it. Her husband in all haste +caused it to be brought by the priest, and she, by receiving it with +very great humility, prompted every one to praise her. + +After she had got through her brave mysteries, she told her husband +that, having through God’s grace received all that the Church commands, +she felt great peace of conscience, and would fain take some rest; and +she begged him to do the like, seeing that he had great need of it after +all his weeping and watching with her. + +When her husband was gone, and all his servants with him, the poor old +women, who had so long watched her in health and now had no fear of +losing her except by death, went contentedly and comfortably to bed. As +soon as she heard them asleep and loudly snoring, she rose in nothing +but her shift, and went out of the room, listening to hear if any one +was yet astir in the house. Taking every precaution, she then (as she +well knew how) let herself out through a little garden-gate that was not +shut, and, barefooted and in her shift, journeyed all night long towards +Autun and the saint, who had preserved her from death. + +It happened, however, that as the distance was great, she could not +accomplish the whole of it before daylight overtook her. Looking then +all along the road, she perceived two horsemen who were galloping at +full speed, and thinking that it might be her husband in search of her, +she hid herself entirely in a marsh, with her head among the reeds. +As her husband (for he it was) passed close beside her, he spoke to a +servant who was with him, in tones of deep despair, saying-- + +“Ah, the wicked woman! Who could have thought that so foul and +abominable a deed could be hidden under cloak of the holy sacraments of +the Church.” + +“If Judas,” replied the servant, “feared not to betray his Master when +he was receiving the like, a woman’s treachery is but small matter for +wonder.” + +At this point the husband passed on, and his wife remained among the +rushes, in greater gladness at having deceived and escaped him than she +had ever felt at home in a good bed but in subjection. + +The poor husband sought her through all the town of Autun, but learning +for certain that she had not entered it, he retraced his steps, +complaining unceasingly of her and of his loss, and threatening her with +nothing short of death if he should find her. Of this she had as little +fear in her mind as she had of cold in her body, although the place and +season might well have caused her to repent of her evil journey. And any +one who did not know how the fire of hell inflames those that are filled +with it, must needs wonder how it was that this unhappy woman could so +leave a warm bed and continue for a whole day in the piercing cold. + +Yet she neither lost courage nor gave up the journey, but, as soon as +night was come, went forward once more. Just as the gate at Autun was +being closed, this pilgrim arrived thither and repaired straight to the +shrine of her saint, who was in great wonder at her coming, and could +scarcely believe that it was indeed she. But when he had carefully +looked at her and examined her at all points, he found that, unlike +a spirit, she was really possessed of bone and flesh, and so became +convinced that she was no ghost. + +And thenceforward they agreed so well together that she dwelt with the +Canon for fourteen or fifteen years. + +Although for a time she lived in concealment, in the end she lost all +fear, and (what is worse) became so exceedingly proud of her lover that +at church she would set herself before most of the honourable women of +the town, wives of officials and others. Moreover, she had children +by the Canon, and among others a daughter who was married to a rich +merchant, and who had so magnificent a wedding that all the women of +the town murmured exceedingly, yet were powerless to set the affair to +rights. + +Now it happened that at this time Queen Claude, wife of King Francis, +passed through the town of Autun, having with her my Lady the Regent, +mother of the King aforesaid, and the Duchess of Alençon, her daughter. +(1) One of the Queen’s waiting-women, named Perrette, came to the +Duchess and said-- + +“Madam, I pray you listen to me, and you will do a better deed than if +you went to hear the whole day’s service at the church.” + + 1 This would have occurred in the late autumn of 1515, when + the Court journeyed southward to meet Francis I. on his + return from the Marignano campaign.--Ed. + +The Duchess gave ready heed, knowing that nought but good counsel could +come from her. Then Perrette forthwith told her how she had taken a +young girl to help her in washing the Queen’s linen, and how, on asking +the news of the town, she had heard from her the vexation which all the +honourable women endured at seeing the Canon’s mistress go before them, +together with some of the history of the wicked woman’s life. + +The Duchess went immediately to the Queen and my Lady the Regent, and +told them the story; and they, without any form of law, sent for the +unhappy woman. The latter sought no concealment, for her shame was +turned to pride at being mistress in the household of so rich a man; and +hence, with no feeling of confusion or disgrace, she presented herself +before the ladies aforesaid, who were so abashed by her hardihood that +at first they knew not what to say. After a time, however, my Lady the +Regent rebuked her in a fashion which would have made a right-thinking +woman weep, though this unhappy creature did not do so, but with great +boldness said-- + +“I pray you, ladies, let my honour go unscathed, for, God be praised, +I have lived so well and virtuously with the Canon that no person alive +can say aught against me. And let it not be thought that I am living in +opposition to the will of God, since, for three years past, the Canon +has not come near me, and we live together as chastely and as lovingly +as two little angels, without any speech or wish between us to the +contrary. And any one separating us will commit a great sin, for the +worthy man, who is nigh eighty years old, will not live long without me, +who am forty-five.” + +You may imagine how the ladies then comported themselves, and what +remonstrance they all made with her; but, in spite of the words that +were spoken, and her own age, and the honourable indignation of those +present, her obstinacy was not softened. That she might be the more +effectually humbled, they sent for the good Archdeacon of Autun, and he +condemned her to lie in prison for a year, faring on bread and water. +The ladies further sent for her husband, and he, after hearing their +excellent exhortations, was content to take her back again after she +should have performed her penance. + +But when she found that she was a prisoner, and that the Canon was +resolved to have her back no more, she thanked the ladies for having +taken a devil off her shoulders, and showed such deep and perfect +contrition that her husband, instead of waiting until the year should +have expired, came and asked her of the Archdeacon before a fortnight +was over; and since then they have lived together in all peace and +affection. + +“You see, ladies, how the chains of St. Peter are by wicked ministers +converted into those of Satan, which it is so hard to break that even +the sacraments, which cast out devils from the body, are here the means +of making them abide longer in the conscience; for the best things, when +abused, bring about most evil.” + +“Truly,” said Oisille, “this woman was a very wicked one, but at the +same time she was well punished by her appearance before such judges as +the ladies you have named. The mere glance of the Lady Regent had such +power that never was there a woman, however virtuous, that did not dread +being found unworthy in her sight. Those who were looked upon kindly by +her deemed that they had earned a high honour, knowing as they did that +none but virtuous women were favoured by her.” (2) + + 2 We are asked to believe that Oisille is none other than + the Lady Regent (Louise of Savoy), but is it likely she + would thus speak of herself? We can scarcely conceive Queen + Margaret perpetrating such a flagrant anachronism.--Ed. + +“It were indeed a fine thing,” said Hircan, “that there should be +greater dread of a woman’s eyes than of the Holy Sacrament, which, if it +be not received in faith and charity, brings with it eternal damnation.” + +“Those,” said Parlamente, “who are not inspired by God are, I promise +you, in greater dread of the temporal than of the spiritual powers. And +I believe that the poor creature was brought to mend her ways rather by +her imprisonment and the thought of seeing her Canon no more, than by +any remonstrance that might have been made to her.” + +“Nay,” said Simontault, “you have forgotten the chief cause of her +return to her husband, which was that the Canon was eighty years old, +whilst her husband was younger than herself; so the worthy lady had the +best of all her bargains. Had the Canon been young, she would not have +been willing to forsake him, and the admonitions of the ladies would +have been as ineffectual as the sacraments.” + +“Further,” said Nomerfide, “I think she did well not to confess her sin +so readily; such an offence ought to be humbly acknowledged to God, but +stoutly denied before men. Even though it be true, still, by deception +and swearing, doubt may be cast upon it.” + +“Not so,” said Longarine. “A sin can scarcely be so secret that it will +not become revealed, unless God in His pity conceal it, as in the case +of those who for love of Himself have truly repented.” + +“And what,” said Hircan, “will you say of those women who have no sooner +done a deed of folly than they tell some one about it?” + +“I think that a strange thing,” answered Longarine, “and a sign that sin +is not displeasing to them. If, as I said, a sin is not covered by +the mercy of God, it cannot be denied before men; there are many who, +delighting in such talk, glory to make their vices known, whilst others +who contradict themselves in this way become their own accusers.” + +“If you know any such instance,” said Saffredent, “I give you my place +and beg you to tell it us.” + +“Listen then,” said Longarine. + + +[Illustration: 117.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 119a. The Gentleman’s Spur catching in the Sheet] + +[The Gentleman’s Spur catching in the Sheet] + +[Illustration: 119.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXII_. + + _A lady’s tongue tripped so awkwardly whilst she was telling + a story, as if of another, to a dame of high degree, that + her honour thenceforward bore a stain which she could never + remove_. + +In the time of King Francis the First there lived a lady of the blood +royal, who was endowed with honour, virtue and beauty, and well knew how +to tell a story with grace and to laugh at such as might be told to +her. (1) This lady being at one of her houses, all her subjects and +neighbours came to see her; for she was as much liked as it were +possible for woman to be. + + 1 M. de Lincy thinks that this lady may be Louise of Savoy, + who was very fond of listening to stories of an equivocal + character. This, it may be pointed out, is one of the + reasons why the commentators of the _Heptameron_ suppose her + to be Oisille, though the latter in the conversational + passages following the tales displays considerable prudery + and devoutness. That Louise was a woman of extremely amorous + tendency is well known; we need, indeed, no better proof of + it than her unseemly passion for the Constable de Bourbon + when she was five-and-forty years of age. If she be the lady + of royal blood spoken of above, the incidents of the tale + may have occurred in the Bourbonnais, a considerable portion + of which passed into her hands after the flight of the + Constable from France. It will be noted that allusion is + made to the lady’s subjects, showing that she exercised a + feudal sway. As one of the commentators of the _Heptameron_ + has pointed out, Queen Margaret always saw her mother--that + “donna terribilissima!” as De Lussy called her--in such an + ideal light that M. de Lincy’s surmise may well be a correct + one despite the attributes of honour, virtue and beauty + bestowed on the lady whom she speaks of.--Ed. + +Among others there came a lady who hearkened whilst the rest told every +story they could think of in order to amuse the Princess. This lady then +resolved that she would not be behind the others, and accordingly said-- + +“Madam, I will tell you a fine story, but you must promise me not to +speak of it.” + +Then she forthwith continued-- + +“The story, madam, is on my conscience a perfectly true one, and +concerns a married lady who lived in all honour with her husband, +although he was old and she was young. A gentleman who was her +neighbour, seeing her married to this old man, fell in love with her, +and importuned her for several years; but never received of her any +reply save such as a virtuous woman should make. One day the gentleman +bethought him that if he could take her at a disadvantage she might +perchance be less harsh towards him, and, after he had for a long while +weighed the danger that he might run, his love for the lady wholly +banished his fears, and he resolved to find a time and place. He kept +excellent watch, and so one morning, when the lady’s husband was going +to another of his houses, and leaving at daybreak by reason of the heat, +the young gallant came to the house, where he found the lady asleep in +her bed, and perceived that the serving-women were gone out of the room. + +“Then, without having sense enough to fasten the door, he got into the +lady’s bed all booted and spurred as he was, and when she awoke, she was +as distressed as she could possibly be. But in spite of any remonstrance +that she could make to him, he took her by force, saying that if she +should make the matter known he would tell every one that she had sent +for him; and at this the lady was so greatly afraid that she durst not +cry out. Afterwards, on some of her women coming in, he rose in haste +and would have been perceived by none if his spur, which had become +fastened in the upper sheet, had not drawn it right off, leaving the +lady quite naked in her bed.” + +So far the lady had told the story as if of another, but at the end she +involuntarily said-- + +“Never was a woman so confounded as I was, when I found myself lying +quite naked.” + +At these last words the lady, who had hitherto hearkened to the story +without laughing, could not refrain from doing so, and said-- + +“By what I can see, you are well qualified to tell the tale.” + +The poor lady tried in every possible way to clear her honour, but it +was already flown so far away that she was never able to recall it. + +“I assure you, ladies, that had she felt any deep displeasure in doing +such a deed, she would have desired to forget it. But, as I have told +you, sin will of itself be discovered before it could otherwise be +known, unless it be hidden by the mantle which, as David says, makes man +blessed.” + +“In good sooth,” said Ennasuite, “she was the greatest fool I have ever +heard of, to make the others laugh at her own expense.” + +“I do not deem it strange,” said Parlamente, “that the word should +follow the deed, for it is easier to say than to do.” + +“Why,” said Geburon, “what sin had she committed? She was asleep in her +bed, he threatened her with shame and death; Lucrèce, who is so highly +praised, did just the same.” + +“That is true,” said Parlamente, “and I confess that there is none too +righteous to fall. But when one has felt great offence in the deed, the +same holds good of the recollection; and whereas Lucrèce to efface the +latter killed herself, this foolish woman tried to make others laugh.” + +“Nevertheless,” said Nomerfide, “it seems that she was a virtuous woman, +seeing that she had been many times entreated but would never consent, +so that the gentleman must needs resort to treachery and force in order +to wrong her.” + +“What!” said Parlamente. “Do you think that a woman has answered for +her honour, when she gives herself up after refusing two or three times? +There would then be many virtuous women among those that are deemed the +opposite, for many of them have been known to refuse for a long while +those to whom their hearts had been given, some doing this through fear +for their honour, and others in order to make themselves still more +ardently loved and esteemed. No account, therefore, should be made of a +woman unless she stands firm to the end. But if a man refuse a beautiful +girl, do you regard that as great virtue?” + +“Truly,” said Oisille, “if a young and lusty man so refused, I should +hold it worthy of high praise, but none the less difficult of belief.” + +“Yet,” said Dagoucin, “I know one who refused to partake in amours that +were sought after by all his comrades.” + +“I pray you,” said Longarine, “take my place and tell us the tale, yet +remember that you must here utter the truth.” + +“I promise you,” said Dagoucin, “that I will tell it in all its +simplicity, without any colouring or disguise.” + + +[Illustration: 124.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 125a. The King asking the Young Lord to join his Banquet] + +[The King asking the Young Lord to join his Banquet] + +[Illustration: 125.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXIII_. + + _A gentleman’s refusal of an amour that was sought after by + all his comrades, was imputed to him as great virtue, and + his wife loved him and esteemed him in consequence far more + than before_. (1) + +In the city of Paris there lived four girls, of whom two were sisters, +and such was their beauty, youth and freshness, that they were run after +by all the gallants. A gentleman, however, who at that time held the +office of Provost of Paris (2) from the King, seeing that his master was +young, of an age to desire such company, so cleverly contrived matters +with all four of the damsels that each, thinking herself intended for +the King, agreed to what the aforesaid Provost desired. This was that +they should all of them be present at a feast to which he invited his +master. + + 1 This story, omitted by Boaistuau, was included in + Gruget’s edition of the _Heptameron_.--L. + + 2 This is John de la Barre, already alluded to in Tale I. + The _Journal d’un Bourgeois de Paris_ tells us that he was + born in Paris of poor parents, and became a favourite of + Francis I., who appointed him Bailiff of the capital, + without requiring him to pay any of the dues attaching to + the office. From the roll of the royal household for 1522, + we also find that he was then a gentleman of the bed chamber + with 1200 _livres_ salary, master of the wardrobe (a post + worth 200 _livres_) and governor of the pages, for the board + and clothing of whom he received 5000 _livres_ annually. In + 1526 he became Provost as well as Bailiff of Paris, the two + offices then being amalgamated. He was further created Count + of Etampes, and acquired the lordship of Veretz, best + remembered by its associations with the murder of Paul Louis + Courier. La Barre fought at Pavia, was taken prisoner with + the King, and remained his constant companion during his + captivity. Several letters of his, dating from this period + and of great historical interest, are still extant; some of + them have been published by Champollion-Figeac (_Captivité + de François Ier_) and Génin (_Lettres de Marguerite, &c_). + Under date 1533 (o. s.) the “Bourgeois de Paris” writes in + his _Journal_: “At the beginning of March there died in + Paris, at the house of Monsieur Poncher, Monsieur le Prévost + de Paris, named de La Barre.... The King was then in Paris, + at his chateau of the Louvre, and there was great pomp at + the obsequies; and he was borne to his lordship of Veretz, + near Tours, that he might be buried there.” Numerous + particulars concerning La Barre will also be found in M. de + Laborde’s _Comptes des Bâtiments du Roi au XVIeme Siècle_.-- + L. and Ed. + +He told the latter his plan, which was approved both by the Prince and +by two other great personages of the Court, all three agreeing together +to share in the spoil. + +While they were looking for a fourth comrade, there arrived a handsome +and honourable lord who was ten years younger than the others. He +was invited to the banquet, but although he accepted with a cheerful +countenance, in his heart he had no desire for it. For on the one part +he had a wife who was the mother of handsome children, and with whom he +lived in great happiness, and in such peacefulness that on no account +would he have had her suspect evil of him. And on the other hand he was +the lover of one of the handsomest ladies of her time in France, whom +he loved and esteemed so greatly that all other women seemed to him ugly +beside her. + +In his early youth, before he was married, he had found it impossible to +gaze upon and associate with other women, however beautiful they might +be; for he took more delight in gazing upon his sweetheart, and in +perfectly loving her, than in having all that another might have given +him. + +This lord, then, went to his wife and told her secretly of the +enterprise that his master had in hand, saying that he would rather die +than do what he had promised. For (he told her) just as there was no +living man whom he would not venture to attack in anger, although he +would rather die than commit a causeless and wilful murder unless his +honour compelled him to it; even so, unless driven by extreme love, such +as may serve to blind virtuous men, he would rather die than break his +marriage vow to gratify another. + +On hearing these words of his, and finding that so much honour dwelt +in one so young, his wife loved and esteemed him more than she had ever +done before, and inquired how he thought he might best excuse himself, +since Princes often frown on those who do not praise what they like. + +“I have always heard,” he replied, “that a wise man has a journey or +a sickness in his sleeve for use in time of need. I have therefore +resolved that I will feign a grievous sickness four or five days +beforehand, and in this matter your countenance may render me true +service.” + +“Tis a worthy and holy hypocrisy,” said his wife, “and I will not fail +to serve you with the saddest face I can command; for he who can avoid +offending God and angering the Prince is fortunate indeed.” + +As it was resolved, so was it done, and the King was very sorry to hear +from the wife of her husband’s sickness. This, however, lasted no +long time; for, on account of certain business which arose, the King +disregarded his pleasure to attend to his duty, and betook himself away +from Paris. + +However, one day, remembering their unfinished undertaking, he said to +the young lord:-- + +“We were very foolish to leave so suddenly without seeing the four girls +who are declared to be the fairest in my kingdom.” + +“I am very glad,” replied the young lord, “that you failed in the +matter, for I was in great fear that, by reason of my sickness, I should +be the only one to miss so pleasant an adventure.” + +By reason of this answer the King never suspected the dissimulation of +the young lord, who was thenceforward loved by his wife more dearly than +he had ever been before. + +Hereupon Parlamente began to laugh, and could not hold from saying-- + +“He would have loved his wife better if he had done this for love of her +alone. But in any case he is worthy of great praise.” + +“It seems to me,” said Hircan, “that it is no great merit in a man +to keep his chastity for love of his wife, inasmuch as there are many +reasons which in a manner compel him to do so. In the first place, God +commands it; his marriage vow binds him to it, and, further, surfeited +nature is not liable to temptation or desire as necessity is. But when +the unfettered love that a man bears towards a mistress of whom he has +no delight, and no other happiness save that of seeing her and speaking +with her, and from whom he often receives harsh replies--when this love +is so loyal and steadfast that nothing can ever make it change, I say +that such chastity is not simply praiseworthy but miraculous.” + +“‘Tis no miracle in my opinion,” said Oisille, “for when the heart is +plighted, nothing is impossible to the body.” + +“True,” said Hircan; “to bodies which have become those of angels.” + +“I do not speak only of those,” said Oisille, “who by the grace of God +are wholly transformed into Himself, but of the grosser spirits that +we see here below among men. And, if you give heed, you will find that +those who have set their hearts and affections upon seeking after the +perfection of the sciences, have forgotten not only the lust of the +flesh, but even the most needful matters, such as food and drink; for +so long as the soul is stirred within the body, so long does the flesh +continue as though insensible. Thence comes it that those who love +handsome, honourable and virtuous women have such happiness of spirit in +seeing them and speaking with them, that the flesh is lulled in all its +desires. Those who cannot feel this happiness are the carnally-minded, +who, wrapped in their exceeding fatness, cannot tell whether they have a +soul or not. But, when the body is in subjection to the spirit, it is +as though heedless of the failings of the flesh, and the beliefs of such +persons may render them insensible of the same. I knew a gentleman who, +to show that he loved his mistress more dearly than did any other man, +proved it to all his comrades by holding his bare fingers in the +flame of a candle. And then, with his eyes fixed upon his mistress, he +remained firm until he had burned himself to the bone, and yet said that +he had felt no hurt.” + +“Methinks,” said Geburon, “that the devil whose martyr he was ought to +have made a St. Lawrence of him; for there are few whose love-flame is +hot enough to keep them from fearing that of the smallest taper. But +if a lady had suffered me to endure so much hurt for her sake, I should +either have sought a rich reward or else have taken my love away from +her.” + +“So,” said Parlamente, “you would have your hour after the lady had +had hers? That was what was done by a gentleman of the neighbourhood +of Valencia in Spain, whose story was told to me by a captain, a right +worthy man.” + +“I pray you, madam,” said Dagoucin, “take my place and tell it us, for I +am sure that it must be a good one.” + +“This story, ladies,” said Parlamente, “will teach you both to think +twice when you are inclined to give a refusal and to lay aside the +thought that the present will always continue; and so, knowing that it +is subject to mutation, you will have a care for the time to come.” + + +[Illustration: 132.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 133a. The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of +Valencia who had become a Monk] + +[The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of Valencia who had +become a Monk] + +[Illustration: 133.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXIV_. + + _After a lady had for the space of five or six years made + trial of the love that a certain gentleman bore her, she + desired to have a still stronger proof of it, and reduced + him to such despair that he turned monk, on which account + she was not able to win him back again when she would fain + have done so_. + +In the city of Valencia there lived a gentleman, who for the space of +five or six years had loved a lady so perfectly that the honour and +conscience of neither of them had taken any hurt; for his intent was +to have her as his wife, and this was reasonable, seeing that he was +handsome, rich and of good descent. But, before he became her lover, he +first inquired concerning her own mind, whereupon she declared herself +willing to marry according to the counsels of her kinsfolk. The +latter, being come together for the purpose, deemed the marriage a very +reasonable one provided that the maiden was herself disposed to it; but +she--whether because she thought to do better or because she wished to +hide her love for him---made some difficulty, and the company separated, +not without regret at having failed to conclude a match so well suited +to both parties. + +The most grieved of all was the poor gentleman, who would have borne +his misfortune with patience had he thought that the fault lay with the +kinsfolk and not with her; but he knew the truth, and the knowledge was +to him worse than death. So, without speaking to his sweetheart or to +any other person, he withdrew to his own house, and, after setting his +affairs in order, betook himself to a solitary spot, where he strove to +forget his love and change it wholly to that love of our Lord which were +truly a higher duty than the other. + +During this time he received no tidings of his mistress or her kindred, +and he therefore resolved that, since he had failed to obtain the +happiest life he could hope for, he would choose the most austere and +disagreeable that he could imagine. With this sad intent, which +might well have been called despair, he went and became a monk in the +monastery of St. Francis. This monastery was not far from the dwellings +of divers of his kinsfolk, who, on hearing of his desperate condition, +did all that in them lay to hinder his purpose; but this was so firmly +rooted in his heart that it was not possible to turn him from it. + +Nevertheless, as the source of his distemper was known to them, they +determined to seek the cure, and so repaired to her who was the cause +of his sudden devoutness. She was greatly astonished and grieved by this +mischance, for, in refusing for a time, she had thought only to test his +affection, not to lose it for ever. Seeing now the evident risk that she +ran of doing this last, she sent him a letter, which, ill-translated, +was as follows:-- + + “Since love, if tested not full needfully, + Steadfast and faithful is not shown to be, + By length of time my heart would that assay + Whereon itself was set to love alway-- + To wit, a husband with that true love filled + Such as no lapsing time has ever killed. + This, then, was the sole reason that I drew + My kin to hinder for a year or two + That closest tie which lasts till life is not, + And whereby woe is oftentimes begot. + Yet sought I not to have you wholly sent + Away; such was in no wise my intent, + For none save you could I have e’er adored + Or looked to as my husband and my lord. + But woe is me, what tidings reach mine ear! + That you, to lead the cloistered life austere, + Are gone with speech to none; whereat the pain + That ever holds me, now can brook no rein, + But forces me mine own estate to slight + For that which yours aforetime was of right; + To seek him out who once sought me alone, + And win him who myself has sometimes won. + Nay then, my love, life of the life in me, + For loss of whom I fain would cease to be, + Turn hither, graciously, those eyes of pain + And trace those wandering footsteps back again. + Leave the grey robe and its austerity, + Come back and taste of that felicity + Which often you desired, and which to-day + Time has nor slain, nor swept away. + For you alone I’ve kept myself; and I, + Lacking your presence, cannot choose but die. + Come back then; in your sweetheart have belief, + And for past memories find cool relief + In holy marriage-ties. Ah! then, my dear, + To me, not to your pride give ready ear, + And rest of this assured, I had no thought + To give, sweetheart, to you offence in aught, + But only yearned your faithfulness to prove + And then to make you happy with my love. + But now that through this trial, free from scathe, + Are come your steadfastness and patient faith, + And all that loyal love to me is known, + Which at the last has made me yours alone, + Come, my beloved, take what is your due + And wholly yield to me, as I to you!” + +This letter, brought by a friend of hers with every remonstrance that it +was possible to make, was received and read by the gentleman friar with +such sadness of countenance, such sighs and such tears, that it seemed +as though he would drown and burn the poor epistle. But he made no +reply to it, except to tell the messenger that the mortification of his +exceeding passion had cost him so dear as to have taken from him both +the wish to live and the fear to die. He therefore requested her who +had been the cause of this, that since she had not chosen to satisfy +his passionate longings, she would, now that he was rid of them, abstain +from tormenting him, and rest content with the evil which was past. For +that evil he could find no remedy but the choice of an austere life, +which by continual penance might bring him to forget his grief, and, by +fasts and disciplines, subdue his body, till the thought of death should +be to him but a sovereign consolation. Above all, he begged that he +might never hear of her, since he found the mere remembrance of her name +a purgatory not to be endured. + +The gentleman went back with this mournful reply, and reported it to the +maiden who did not hear it without intolerable sorrow. But Love, which +will not suffer the spirit utterly to fail, gave her the thought that, +if she could see him, her words and presence might be of more effect +than the writing. She therefore, with her father and the nearest of her +kin, went to the monastery where he abode. She had left nothing in her +box that might set off her beauty, for she felt sure that, could he but +once look at her and hear her, the fire that had so long dwelt in both +their hearts must of necessity be kindled again in greater strength than +before. + +Coming thus into the monastery towards the end of vespers, she sent for +him to come to her in a chapel that was in the cloister. He, knowing not +who it was that sought him, went in all ignorance to the sternest battle +in which he had ever been. When she saw him so pale and wan that she +could hardly recognise him, yet filled with grace, in no whit less +winning than of yore, Love made her stretch out her arms to embrace him, +whilst her pity at seeing him in such a plight so enfeebled her heart, +that she sank swooning to the floor. + +The poor monk, who was not void of brotherly charity, lifted her up and +set her upon a seat in the chapel. Although he had no less need of +aid than she had, he feigned to be unaware of her passion, and so +strengthened his heart in the love of God against the opportunities now +present with him, that, judging by his countenance, he seemed not to +know what was actually before him. Having recovered from her weakness, +she turned upon him her beautiful, piteous eyes, which were enough to +soften a rock, and began to utter all such discourse as she believed apt +to draw him from the place in which he now was. He replied as virtuously +as he was able; but at last, finding that his heart was being softened +by his sweetheart’s abundant tears, and perceiving that Love, the cruel +archer whose pains he long had known, was ready with his golden dart to +deal him fresh and more deadly wounds, he fled both from Love and from +his sweetheart, like one whose only resource lay, indeed, in flight. + +When he was shut up in his room, not desiring to let her go without some +settlement of the matter, he wrote her a few words in Spanish, which +seem to me so excellent in their matter that I would not by translating +them mar their grace. These were brought to her by a little novice, +who found her still in the chapel and in such despair that, had it been +lawful, she too would have remained there and turned friar. But when she +saw the words, which were these-- + + “Volvete don venesti, anima mia, + Que en las tristas vidas es la mia,” (1) + +she knew that all hope was gone, and she resolved to follow the advice +of him and her friends, and so returned home, there to lead a life as +melancholy as that of her lover in his monastery was austere. + + 1 “Return whence thou earnest, my soul, + for among the sad lives is mine.”’ + +“You see, ladies, what vengeance the gentleman took upon his harsh +sweetheart, who, thinking to try him, reduced him to such despair that, +when she would have regained him, she could not do so.” + +“I am sorry,” said Nomerfide, “that he did not lay aside his gown and +marry her. It would, I think, have been a perfect marriage.” + +“In good sooth,” said Simontault, “I think he was very wise. Anyone who +well considers what marriage is will deem it no less grievous than +a monkish life. Moreover, being so greatly weakened by fasts and +abstinence, he feared to take upon him a burden of that kind which lasts +all through life.” + +“Methinks,” said Hircan, “she wronged so feeble a man by tempting him +to marriage, for ‘tis too much for the strongest man alive; but had she +spoken to him of love, free from any obligation but that of the will, +there is no friar’s cord that would not have been untied. However, since +she sought to draw him out of purgatory by offering him hell, I think +that he was quite right to refuse her, and to let her feel the pain that +her own refusal had cost him.” + +“By my word,” said Ennasuite, “there are many who, thinking to do better +than their fellows, do either worse or else the very opposite of what +they desire.” + +“Truly,” said Geburon, “you remind me--though, indeed, the matter is +not greatly to the point--of a woman who did the opposite of what she +desired, and so caused a great uproar in the church of St. John of +Lyons.” + +“I pray you,” said Parlamente, “take my place and tell us about it.” + +“My story,” said Geburon, “will not be so long or so piteous as the one +we have heard from Parlamente.” + + +[Illustration: 141.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 143a. The Old Woman startled by the Waking of the Soldier] + +[The Old Woman startled by the Waking of the Soldier] + +[Illustration: 143.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXV_. + + _Though the priests of St. John of Lyons would fain have + concealed it, the falsity of a miracle was brought to light + through an old woman’s folly becoming known_. (1) + +In the church of St. John of Lyons there is a very dark chapel, and +inside it a stone tomb with figures of great personages raised life-like +upon it, whilst several men-at-arms lie all around it. + + 1 We believe that the incident here narrated occurred early + in 1525, when Margaret is known to have been at Lyons. She + and her husband (on his return from Pavia) resided there at + the house of the Obédiencier de St. Just, and it was in the + church of St. Just that the Duke of Alençon was buried. + Doubtless it was during his illness that the _novena_ + alluded to in the final tale of the _Heptameron_ was + performed by Queen Margaret at the church of St. John of + Lyons, where the two most important chapels, according to + Quincarnon’s _Antiquités et la fondation de la Métropole + des Gaules, &c._, Lyons, 1673, were the Most Holy Eucharist, + or Bourbon chapel, built in 1449 by Charles de Bourbon, + Primate of Gaul, and the Holy Sepulchre, or Good Friday + chapel, erected at the beginning of the fifteenth century by + Philip de Turey, Archbishop of Lyons. Unfortunately the + church of St. John was in 1652 devastated by the Huguenots, + who in their insensate fury destroyed almost all the tombs. + It is therefore now impossible to identify the chapel and + tomb to which the Queen of Navarre refers in the above + story, though her allusion to the dimness of the light would + incline us to place the incident she recounts in the + Chapelle du St. Sépulcre.--L. and Ed. + +One day a soldier, walking in the church at the very height of summer, +felt inclined to sleep, and, looking at this dark, cool chapel, resolved +to go and guard the tomb in sleep like the rest; (2) and accordingly he +lay down beside them. Now it chanced that a very pious old woman came +in while his sleep was the soundest, and having performed her devotions, +holding a lighted taper in her hand, she sought to fix this taper to the +tomb. Finding that the sleeping man was nearest to her, she tried to set +it upon his forehead, thinking that it was of stone; but the wax would +not stick to such stone as this, whereupon the worthy dame, believing +that the reason of it was the coldness of the statue, applied the flame +to the sleeper’s forehead, that she might the better fix the taper on +it. At this, however, the statue, which was not without feeling, began +to cry out. + + 2 Meaning the recumbent statues of the men-at-arms.--Ed. + +The good woman was then in exceeding fear, and set herself to shout, “A +miracle! a miracle!” until all who were in the church ran, some to ring +the bells, and the rest to view the miracle. The good woman forthwith +took them to see the statue that had stirred, whereupon many found food +for laughter; though the greater number were unable to feel any content, +inasmuch as they had really determined to make profit out of the tomb, +and to gain as much money by it as by the crucifix on their pulpit, +which is said to have spoken. (3) But when the woman’s folly became +known the farce came to an end. If all knew of their follies, they would +not be accounted holy nor their miracles true. And I would beg you, +ladies, to see henceforward to what saints you offer your candles. (4) + + 3 The crucifix in the church of St. John was mainly of + silver, and, according to Quincarnon, at the time of a + Huguenot outbreak at Lyons it was thrown to the ground by a + Calvinist minister named Ruffy, who, after reducing it to + fragments, carried all the precious metal away with him.--M. + + 4 The latter portion of this story and all the dialogue + that follows it are omitted by Boaistuau in his edition. + Gruget inserted the dialogue, but he did not dare to print + the passage respecting the talking crucifix.--L. + +“‘Tis notable,” said Hircan, “that, whatever the matter in question may +be, women always do wrong.” + +“Is it wrong,” asked Nomerfide, “to bring candles to a tomb?” + +“Yes,” said Hircan, “if the flame be turned against a man’s forehead; +for nothing good should be called good if it be attended with evil. You +may be sure that the poor woman thought she had made a fine gift to God +with her little candle.” + +“I look not to the gift,” said Oisille, “but to the heart that offers +it. Perhaps this worthy woman had more love for God than those who offer +great torches; for, as the Gospel says, she gave of her need.” + +“Still, I no not believe,” said Saffredent, “that God, who is sovereign +wisdom, can be pleased with the foolishness of women. Although +simplicity is pleasing to Him, I see from the Scriptures that He +despises the ignorant; and if He commands us to be as harmless as the +dove, He none the less commands us to be wise like the serpent.” + +“For my part,” said Oisille, “I do not call the woman ignorant who +brings her candle or burning taper into the presence of God, and makes +amends for her wrongdoing on bended knees before her sovereign Lord, +confessing her unworthiness and with steadfast hope seeking pity and +salvation.” + +“Would to God,” said Dagoucin, “that all understood it in the same way +as you; but I do not believe that these poor fools do it with the intent +you say.” + +“The women,” said Oisille, “who are least able to speak are just those +who are most sensible of the love and will of God; wherefore ‘tis well +to judge none but ourselves.” + +Ennasuite laughed and said--“‘Tis no wonderful thing to have frightened +a sleeping varlet, since women of as lowly condition have frightened +noble Princes, without putting fire to their foreheads.” + +“I am sure,” said Geburon, “that you know some such story, which you +are willing to relate; wherefore, if it please you, you shall take my +place.” + +“The tale will not be a long one,” said Ennasuite, “but, could I recount +it just as it happened, you would have no desire to weep.” + + +[Illustration: 147.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 149a. The Old Serving-woman explaining her Mistake to +the Duke and Duchess of Vendôme] + +[The Old Serving-woman explaining her Mistake to the Duke and Duchess +of Vendôme] + +[Illustration: 149.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXVI_. + + _The Duke of Vendôme and the Princess of Navarre, whilst + resting together one afternoon, were surprised by an old + serving-woman, who took them for a prothonotary and a damsel + between whom she suspected some affection; and, through this + fine justicement, a matter, of which intimates were + ignorant, was made known to strangers_. + +In the year when the Duke of Vendôme married the Princess of Navarre, +(1) the King and Queen, their parents, after feasting at Vendôme, went +with them into Guienne, and, visiting a gentleman’s house where there +were many honourable and beautiful ladies, the newly married pair +danced so long in this excellent company that they became weary, and, +withdrawing to their chamber, lay down in their clothes upon the bed and +fell asleep, doors and windows being shut and none remaining with them. + + 1 It was in October 1548, some eighteen months after Henry + II. had succeeded Francis I., that Anthony de Bourbon, Duke + of Vendôme, who after the King’s children held the first + rank in France, was married at Moulins to Margaret’s + daughter Jane of Navarre. The Duke was then thirty and Jane + twenty years old. “I never saw so joyous a bride,” wrote + Henry II. to Montmorency, “she never does anything but + laugh.” She was indeed well pleased with the match, the + better so, perhaps, as her husband had settled 100,000 + livres on her, a gift which was the more acceptable by + reason of her extravagant tastes and love of display. Ste. + Marthe, in his _Oraison Funèbre_ on Queen Margaret, speaks + of her daughter’s marriage as “a most fortunate + conjunction,” and refers to her son-in-law as “the most + valiant and magnanimous Prince Anthony, Duke of Vendôme, + whose admirable virtues have so inclined all France to love + and revere him, that princes and nobles, the populace, the + great and the humble alike, no sooner hear his name + mentioned than they forthwith wish him and beg God to bestow + on him all possible health and prosperity.”--Ed + +Just, however, when their sleep was at its soundest, they were awakened +by their door being opened from without, and the Duke drew the curtain +and looked to see who it might be, suspecting indeed that it was one of +his friends who was minded to surprise him. But he perceived a tall, old +bed-chamber woman come in and walk straight up to their bed, where, for +the darkness of the room, she could not recognise them. Seeing them, +however, quite close together, she began to cry out-- + +“Thou vile and naughty wanton! I have long suspected thee to be what +thou art, yet for lack of proof spoke not of it to my mistress. But now +thy vileness is so clearly shown that I shall in no sort conceal it; and +thou, foul renegade, who hast wrought such shame in this house by the +undoing of this poor wench, if it were not for the fear of God, I would +e’en cudgel thee where thou liest. Get up, in the devil’s name, get up, +for methinks even now thou hast no shame.” + +The Duke of Vendôme and the Princess hid their faces against each other +in order to have the talk last longer, and they laughed so heartily that +they were not able to utter a word. Finding that for all her threats +they were not willing to rise, the serving-woman came closer in order to +pull them by the arms. Then she at once perceived both from their faces +and from their dress that they were not those whom she sought, and, +recognising them, she flung herself upon her knees, begging them to +pardon her error in thus robbing them of their rest. + +But the Duke of Vendôme was not content to know so little, and rising +forthwith, he begged the old woman to say for whom she had taken them. +This at first she was not willing to do; but at last, after he had sworn +to her never to reveal it, she told him that there was a girl in the +house with whom a prothonotary (2) was in love, and that she had long +kept a watch on them, since it pleased her little to see her mistress +trusting in a man who was working this shame towards her. She then left +the Prince and Princess shut in as she had found them, and they laughed +for a long while over their adventure. And, although they afterwards +told the story they would never name any of the persons concerned. + + 2 The office of apostolic prothonotary was instituted by + Pope Clement I., there being at first twelve such officers, + whose duty was to write the lives of the saints and other + apostolic records. Gradually their number so increased, that + in the fifteenth century the title of prothonotary had come + to be merely an honorary dignity, conferred as a matter of + course on doctors of theology of noble family, or otherwise + of note. In the role of Francis I.’s household for 1522, we + find but one prothonotary mentioned, but in that for 1529 + there are twelve. More than one of them might have been + called _un letrado que no tenia muchas letras_, as Brantôme + wrote of Thomas de Lescun, Prothonotary of Foix and + afterwards Marshal of France. “In those days,” adds the + author of _Les Grands Capitaines Français_, “it was usual + for prothonotaries and even for those of good family not to + have much learning, but to enjoy themselves, hunt, make love + and seduce the wives of the poor gentlemen who were gone to + the wars.”--_OEuvres complètes de Brantôme_, 8vo edit., vol. + ii. p. 144.--L. and Ed. + +“You see, ladies, how the worthy dame, whilst thinking to do a fine deed +of justice, made known to strange princes a matter of which the servants +of the house had never heard.” + +“I think I know,” said Parlamente, “in whose house it was, and who the +prothonotary is; for he has governed many a lady’s house, and when he +cannot win the mistress’s favour he never fails to have that of one of +the maids. In other matters, however, he is an honourable and worthy +man.” + +“Why do you say ‘in other matters’?” said Hircan. “Tis for that very +behaviour that I deem him so worthy a man.” + +“I can see,” said Parlamente, “that you know the sickness and the +sufferer, and that, if he needed excuse, you would not fail him as +advocate. Yet I would not trust myself to a man who could not contrive +his affairs without having them known to the serving-women.” + +“And do you imagine,” said Nomerfide, “that men care whether such a +matter be known if only they can compass their end? You may be sure +that, even if none spoke of it but themselves, it would still of +necessity be known.” + +“They have no need,” said Hircan angrily, “to say all that they know.” + +“Perhaps,” she replied, blushing, “they would not say it to their own +advantage.” + +“Judging from your words,” said Simontault, “it would seem that men +delight in hearing evil spoken about women, and I am sure that you +reckon me among men of that kind. I therefore greatly wish to speak well +of one of your sex, in order that I may not be held a slanderer by all +the rest.” + +“I give you my place,” said Ennasuite, “praying you withal to control +your natural disposition, so that you may acquit yourself worthily in +our honour.” + +Forthwith Simontault began-- + +“Tis no new thing, ladies, to hear of some virtuous act on your part +which, methinks, should not be hidden but rather written in letters +of gold, that it may serve women as an example, and give men cause for +admiration at seeing in the weaker sex that from which weakness is prone +to shrink. I am prompted, therefore, to relate something that I heard +from Captain Robertval and divers of his company.” + + +[Illustration: 154.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 155a. The Wife Reading to her Husband on the Desert Island] + +[The Wife Reading to her Husband on the Desert Island] + +[Illustration: 155.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXVII_. + + _A poor woman risked her own life to save that of her + husband, whom she forsook not until death_. + +The Captain Robertval aforesaid once made a voyage across the seas +to the island of Canadas, (1) himself being chief in command by the +appointment of the King, his master. And there, if the air of the +country were good, he had resolved to dwell and to build towns and +castles. With this work he made such a beginning as is known to all; +and to people the country with Christians he took with him all kinds of +artificers, among whom was a most wicked man, who betrayed his master +and put him in danger of being captured by the natives. But God willed +that his attempt should be discovered before any evil befell the +Captain, who, seizing the wicked traitor, was minded to punish him as +he deserved. And this he would have done but for the man’s wife, who had +followed her husband through the perils of the deep and would not now +leave him to die, but with many tears so wrought upon the Captain and +all his company that, for pity of her and for the sake of the services +she had done them, her request was granted. In consequence, husband and +wife were left together on a small island in the sea, inhabited only +by wild beasts, and were suffered to take with them such things as were +needful. + + 1 Canada had been discovered by Cabot in 1497; and in 1535 + James Cartier sailed up the St. Lawrence and, taking + possession of the country in the name of Francis I., called + it La Nouvelle France. Seven years later a gentleman of + Picardy, named John Francis de La Roque, Lord of Robertval, + accompanying Cartier, established a colony on the Isle + Royale, and subsequently built the fort of Charlebourg. One + of his pilots, named Alphonse of Saintonge, meanwhile + reconnoitred the coasts both of Canada and Labrador. About + this time (1542) the incidents related in the above tale + must have occurred.--L. + +The poor folk, finding themselves all alone and surrounded by wild and +cruel beasts, had no recourse but to God, who had ever been this poor +woman’s steadfast hope; and, since she found all her consolation in Him, +she carried the New Testament with her for safeguard, nourishment and +consolation, and in it read unceasingly. Further, she laboured with her +husband to make them a little dwelling as best they might, and when the +lions (2) and other animals came near to devour them, the husband with +his arquebuss and she with stones made so stout a defence that not only +were the beasts afraid to approach, but often some were slain that were +very good for food. And on this flesh and the herbs of the land, they +lived for some time after their bread failed them. + + 2 This mention of lions on a small desert island in the + Canadian seas would be rather perplexing did we not know how + great at that time was the general ignorance on most matters + connected with natural history. Possibly the allusion may be + to the _lion marin_, as the French call the leonine seal. + This, however, is anything but an aggressive animal. + Curiously enough, Florimond de Rémond, the sixteenth century + writer, speaks of a drawing of a “marine lion” given to him + “by that most illustrious lady Margaret Queen of Navarre, to + whom it had been presented by a Spanish gentleman, who was + taking a second copy of it to the Emperor Charles V., then + in Spain.”--Ed. + +At last, however, the husband could no longer endure this nutriment, +and by reason of the waters that they drank became so swollen that in +a short while he died, and this without any service or consolation save +from his wife, she being both his doctor and his confessor; and when +he had joyously passed out of the desert into the heavenly country, the +poor woman, left now in solitude, buried him in the earth as deeply as +she was able. Nevertheless the beasts quickly knew of it, and came to +eat the dead body; but the poor woman, firing with the arquebuss from +her cabin, saved her husband’s flesh from finding such a grave. + +Leading thus in regard to her body the life of a brute, and in regard +to her soul the life of an angel, she passed her time in reading, +meditations, prayers and orisons, having a glad and happy mind in a +wasted and half-dead body. But He who never forsakes His own, and who +manifests His power when others are in despair, did not suffer the +virtue that he had put into this woman to be unknown by men, but willed +that it should be made manifest to His own glory. He therefore brought +things so to pass, that after some time, when one of the ships of the +armament was passing by the island, those that were looking that way +perceived some smoke, which reminded them of the persons who had been +left there, and they resolved to go and see what God had done with them. + +The poor woman, seeing the ship draw nigh, dragged herself to the shore, +and there they found her on their arrival. After giving praise to God, +she brought them to her poor cottage and showed them on what she had +lived during her abode in that place. This would have seemed to them +impossible of belief, but for their knowledge that God is as powerful to +feed His servants in a desert as at the greatest banquet in the world. +As the poor woman could not continue in such a spot, they took her with +them straight to La Rochelle, where, their voyage ended, they arrived. +And when they had made known to the inhabitants the faithfulness and +endurance of this woman, she was very honourably received by all the +ladies, who gladly sent their daughters to her to learn to read and +write. In this honest calling she maintained herself for the rest of +her life, having no other desire save to admonish every one to love and +trust Our Lord, and setting forth as an example the great compassion +that He had shown towards her. + +“Now, ladies, you cannot say I do not praise the virtues which God +has given you, and which show the more when possessed by one of lowly +condition.” + +“Why, we are not sorry,” said Oisille, “to hear you praise the mercies +of Our Lord, for in truth all virtue comes from Him; but we must confess +that man assists in the work of God as little as women. Neither can by +heart or will do more than plant. God alone giveth the increase.” + +“If you have studied Scripture,” said Saffredent, “you know that St. +Paul says that Apollos planted and he himself watered; (3) but he does +not speak of women as having set hand to the work of God.” + + 3 The text is just the contrary: “I have planted, Apollos + watered; but God gave the increase.”--I _Corinthians_ iii. + 6.--Ed. + +“You would follow,” said Parlamente, “the opinion of those wicked men +who take a passage of Scripture that is in their favour and leave one +that is against them. If you had read St. Paul to the end, you would +have found that he commends himself to the ladies, who greatly laboured +with him in the work of the Gospel.” + +“However that may be,” said Longarine, “the woman in the story is well +worthy of praise both for the love she bore her husband, on whose behalf +she risked her own life, and for the faith she had in God, who, as we +see, did not forsake her.” + +“I think,” said Ennasuite, “as far as the first is concerned, that there +is no woman present but would do as much to save her husband’s life.” + +“I think,” said Parlamente, “that some husbands are such brutes that the +women who live with them should not find it strange to live among their +fellows.” + +Ennasuite, who took these words to herself, could not refrain from +saying-- + +“Provided the beasts did not bite me, their company would be more +pleasant to me than that of men, who are choleric and intolerable. But I +abide by what I have said, that, if my husband were in a like danger, I +should not leave him to die.” + +“Beware,” said Nomerfide, “of loving too fondly, for excess of love will +deceive both him and you. There is a medium in all things, and through +lack of knowledge love often gives birth to hate.” + +“Methinks,” said Simontault, “you have not carried your discourse so far +without having an instance to confirm it. If, then, you know such a one, +I give you my place that you may tell it to us.” + +“Well,” said Nomerfide, “the tale shall, as is my wont, be a short and a +merry one.” + + +[Illustration: 161.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 163a. The Apothecary’s Wife giving the Dose of Cantharides +to her Husband] + +[The Apothecary’s Wife giving the Dose of Cantharides to her Husband] + +[Illustration: 163.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXVIII_. + + _An apothecary’s wife, finding that her husband made no + great account of her, and wishing to be better loved by him, + followed the advice that he had given to a “commère” (1) of + his, whose sickness was of the same kind as her own; but she + prospered not so well as the other, and instead of love + reaped hate_. + + 1 Mr W. Kelly has pointed out (Bohn’s _Heptameron_, p. 395) + that in France the godfather and godmother of a child are + called in reference to each other compère and commère, terms + implying mutual relations of an extremely friendly kind. “The + same usage exists in all Catholic countries,” adds Mr Kelly, + “and one of the novels of the _Decameron_ is founded on a + very general opinion in Italy that an amorous connection + between a _compadre_ and his _commadre_ partook almost of + the nature of incest.” + +In the town of Pau in Beam there was an apothecary whom men called +Master Stephen. He had married a virtuous wife and a thrifty, with +beauty enough to content him. But just as he was wont to taste different +drugs, so did he also with women, that he might be the better able to +speak of all kinds. His wife was greatly tormented by this, and at +last lost all patience; for he made no account of her except by way of +penance during Holy Week. + +One day when the apothecary was in his shop, and his wife had hidden +herself behind him to listen to what he might say, a woman, who was +“commère” to the apothecary, and was stricken with the same sickness as +his own wife, came in, and, sighing, said to him-- + +“Alas, good godfather, I am the most unhappy woman alive. I love my +husband better than myself, and do nothing but think of how I may serve +and obey him; but all my labour is wasted, for he prefers the wickedest, +foulest, vilest woman in the town to me. So, godfather, if you know of +any drug that will change his humour, prithee give it me, and, if I be +well treated by him, I promise to reward you by all means in my power.” + +The apothecary, to comfort her, said that he knew of a powder which, if +she gave it to her husband with his broth or roast, after the fashion +of Duke’s powder, (2) would induce him to entertain her in the best +possible manner. The poor woman, wishing to behold this miracle, asked +him what the powder was, and whether she could have some of it. He +declared that there was nothing like powder of cantharides, of which +he had a goodly store; and before they parted she made him prepare +this powder, and took as much of it as was needful for her purpose. And +afterwards she often thanked the apothecary, for her husband, who was +strong and lusty, and did not take too much, was none the worse for it. + + 2 Boaistuau and Gruget call this preparation _poudre de + Dun_, as enigmatical an appellation as _poudre de Duc_. As + for the specific supplied by the apothecary, the context + shows that this was the same aphrodisiac as the Marquis de + Sades put to such a detestable use at Marseilles in 1772, + when, after fleeing from justice, he was formally sentenced + to death, and broken, in effigy, upon the wheel. See P. + Lacroix’s _Curiosités de l’histoire de France, IIème Série_, + Paris, 1858.--Ed. + +The apothecary’s wife heard all this talk, and thought within herself +that she had no less need of the recipe than her husband’s “commère.” + Observing, therefore, the place where her husband put the remainder of +the powder, she resolved that she would use some of it when she found +an opportunity; and this she did within three or four days. Her husband, +who felt a coldness of the stomach, begged her to make him some good +soup, but she replied that a roast with Duke’s powder would be better +for him; whereupon he bade her go quickly and prepare it, and take +cinnamon and sugar from the shop. This she did, not forgetting also to +take the remainder of the powder given to the “commère,” without any +heed to dose, weight or measure. + +The husband ate the roast, and thought it very good. Before long, +however, he felt its effects, and sought to soothe them with his wife, +but this he found was impossible, for he felt all on fire, in such wise +that he knew not which way to turn. He then told his wife that she had +poisoned him, and demanded to know what she had put into the roast. She +forthwith confessed the truth, telling him that she herself required the +recipe quite as much as his “commère.” By reason of his evil plight, +the poor apothecary could belabour her only with hard words; however, +he drove her from his presence, and sent to beg the Queen of Navarre’s +apothecary (3) to come and see him. This the Queen’s apothecary did, and +whilst giving the other all the remedies proper for his cure (which in +a short time was effected) he rebuked him very sharply for his folly +in counselling another to use drugs that he was not willing to take +himself, and declared that his wife had only done her duty, inasmuch as +she had desired to be loved by her husband. + + 3 It was from her apothecary no doubt that Queen Margaret + heard this story.--Ed. + +Thus the poor man was forced to endure the results of his folly in +patience, and to own that he had been justly punished in being brought +into such derision as he had proposed for another. + +“Methinks, ladies, this woman’s love was as indiscreet as it was great.” + +“Do you call it loving her husband,” said Hircan, “to give him pain for +the sake of the delight that she herself looked to have?” + +“I believe,” said Longarine, “she only desired to win back her husband’s +love, which she deemed to have gone far astray; and for the sake of such +happiness there is nothing that a woman will not do.” “Nevertheless,” + said Geburon, “a woman ought on no account to make her husband eat or +drink anything unless, either through her own experience or that +of learned folk, she be sure that it can do him no harm. Ignorance, +however, must be excused, and hers was worthy of excuse; for the most +blinding passion is love, and the most blinded of persons is a woman, +since she has not strength enough to conduct so weighty a matter +wisely.” + +“Geburon,” said Oisille, “you are departing from your own excellent +custom so as to make yourself of like mind with your fellows; but there +are women who have endured love and jealousy in patience.” + +“Ay,” said Hircan, “and pleasantly too; for the most sensible are those +who take as much amusement in laughing at their husbands’ doings, as +their husbands take in secretly deceiving them. If you will make it +my turn, so that the Lady Oisille may close the day, I will tell you a +story about a wife and her husband who are known to all of us here.” + +“Begin, then,” said Nomerfide; and Hircan, laughing, began thus:-- + + +[Illustration: 168.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 169a. The Wife discovering her Husband in the Hood of +their Serving-maid] + +[The Wife discovering her Husband in the Hood of their Serving-maid] + +[Illustration: 169.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXIX_. + + _On finding her husband bolting meal in the garb of her + serving-woman, whom he was awaiting in the hope that he + would obtain from her what he desired, a certain lady showed + such good sense that she was content to laugh and make merry + at his folly_. + +At the castle of Odoz (1) in Bigorre, there dwelt one Charles, equerry +to the King and an Italian by birth, who had married a very virtuous +and honourable woman. After bearing him many children, she was now +grown old, whilst he also was not young. And he lived with her in all +peacefulness and affection, for although he would at times speak with +his serving-women, his excellent wife took no notice of this, but +quietly dismissed them whenever she found that they were becoming too +familiar in her house. + + 1 The scene of this tale is laid at the castle where + Margaret died. Ste. Marthe in his _Oraison funèbre_, + pronounced at Alençon fifteen days after the Queen’s death, + formally states that she expired at Odos near Tarbes. He is + not likely to have been mistaken, so that Brantome’s + assertion that the Queen died at Audos in Beam may be + accepted as incorrect (_ante_, vol. i. p. lxxxviii.). It is + further probable that the above tale was actually written at + Odos (_ante_, vol. i. p. lxxxvi.), but the authenticity of + the incidents is very doubtful, as there is an extremely + similar story in the _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_ (No, xvii. + _Le Conseiller au bluteau_), in which the hero of the + adventure is a “great clerk and knight who presided over the + Court of Accounts in Paris.” For subsequent imitations see + Malespini’s _Ducento Novelle_ (No. xcvii.) and _Les Joyeuses + Adventures et Nouvelles Recreations_ (No. xix.)--L. and Ed. + +One day she hired a discreet and worthy girl, telling her of her +husband’s temper and her own, and how she was wont to turn away such +girls whom she found to be wantons. This maid, wishing to continue in +her mistress’s service and esteem, resolved to remain a virtuous woman; +and although her master often spoke to her, she on her part gave no heed +to his words save that she repeated them to her mistress, and they thus +both derived much diversion from his folly. + +One day the maid was in a back room bolting meal, and wearing her +“sarot,” a kind of hood which, after the fashion of that country, not +only formed a coif but covered the whole of the back and shoulders. Her +master, finding her in this trim, came and urged her very pressingly, +and, although she would not have done such a thing even to save her +life, she pretended to consent, and asked leave to go first and see +whether her mistress was engaged in some such manner that they might not +be surprised together. To this he agreed; whereupon she begged him to +put her hood upon his head and to continue bolting whilst she was away, +in order that her mistress might still hear the noise of the bolter. And +this he gladly did, in the hope of obtaining what he sought. + +The maid, who was by no means inclined to melancholy, ran off to her +mistress and said to her-- + +“Come and see your good husband, whom I have taught to bolt in order to +be rid of him.” + +The wife made all speed to behold this new serving-woman, and when she +saw her husband with the hood upon his head and the bolter in his hands, +she began to laugh so exceedingly, clapping her hands the while, that +she was scarce able to say to him-- + +“How much dost want a month, wench, for thy labour?” + +The husband, on hearing this voice, realised that he had been deceived, +and, throwing down both what he was holding and wearing, he ran at the +girl, calling her a thousand bad names. Had his wife not set herself in +front of the maid, he would have given her wage enough for her quarter; +but at last all was settled to the content of the parties concerned, and +thenceforward they lived together without quarrelling. (2) + + 2 The Italian Charles, equerry to the King, to whom the + leading part is assigned in Queen Margaret’s tale, may have + been Charles de San Severino, who figures among the + equerries with a salary of 200 _livres_, in the roll of the + royal household for 1522. The San Severino family, one of + the most prominent of Naples, had attached itself to the + French cause at the time of the expedition of Charles VIII., + whom several of its members followed to France. In 1522 we + find a “Monsieur de Saint-Severin” holding the office of + first _maître d’hôtel_ to Francis I., and over a course of + several years his son figures among the _enfants + d’honneur_.--B. J. and Ed. + +“What say you, ladies, of this wife? Was she not sensible to make sport +of her husband’s sport?” + +“‘Twas no sport,” said Saffredent, “for the husband who failed in his +purpose.” + +“I believe,” said Ennasuite, “that he had more delight in laughing with +his wife, than at killing himself at his age with his serving-woman.” + +“Still, I should be sorely vexed,” said Simontault, “to be discovered so +bravely coifed.” + +“I have heard,” said Parlamente, “that it was not your wife’s fault that +she did not once discover you in very much the same attire in spite of +all your craft, and that since then she has known no repose.” + +“Rest content with what befalls your own house,” said Simontault, +“without inquiring into what befalls mine. Nevertheless, my wife has no +reason to complain of me, and even did I act as you say, she would never +have occasion to notice it through any lack of what she might need.” + +“Virtuous women,” said Longarine, “require nothing but the love of +their husbands, which alone can satisfy them. Those who seek a brutish +satisfaction will never find it where honour enjoins.” + +“Do you call it brutish,” asked Geburon, “if a wife desires that her +husband should give her her due?” + +“I say,” said Longarine, “that a chaste woman, whose heart is filled +with true love, is more content to be perfectly loved than to have all +the delights that the body can desire.” + +“I am of your opinion,” said Dagoucin, “but my lords here will neither +hear it nor confess it. I think if mutual love cannot satisfy a woman, +her husband alone will not do so; for unless she live in the love +that is honourable for a woman, she must be tempted by the infernal +lustfulness of brutes.” + +“In truth,” said Oisille, “you remind me of a lady who was both handsome +and well wedded, but who, through not living in that honourable love, +became more carnal than swine and more cruel than lions.” + +“I ask you, madam,” said Simontault, “to end the day by telling us her +story.” + +“That I cannot do,” said Oisille, “and for two reasons. The first is +that it is exceedingly long; and the second, that it does not belong to +our own day. It is written indeed by an author worthy of belief; but we +are sworn to relate nothing that has been written.” + +“That is true,” said Parlamente; “but I believe I know the story you +mean, and it is written in such old language that methinks no one +present except ourselves has ever heard of it. It will therefore be +looked upon as new.” + +Upon this the whole company begged her to tell it without fear for its +length, seeing that a full hour was yet left before vespers. So, at +their request, the Lady Oisille thus began:-- + + +[Illustration: 174.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 175a. The Gentleman Killing Himself on the Death of his Mistress] + +[The Gentleman Killing Himself on the Death of his Mistress] + +[Illustration: 175.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXX_. + + _The Duchess of Burgundy, not content with the love that her + husband bore her, conceived so great an affection for a + young gentleman that, when looks and glances were not + sufficient to inform him of her passion, she declared it to + him in words which led to an evil ending_. (1) + + 1 This story is borrowed from an old _fabliau_, known under + the title of the _Châtelaine de Vergy_, which will be found + in the _Recueil de Barbazan_ (vol iv.) and in Legrand + d’Aussy’s _Fabliaux_ (vol iii.). Margaret calls the lady + Madame du Vergier (literally the lady of the orchard) in her + tale. Bandello imitated the same _fabliau_ in his _Novelle_ + (1554; part iv. nov. v.), but gave it a different ending. + Belleforest subsequently adapted it for his _Histoires + Tragiques_. Margaret’s tale may also be compared with No. + lxii. of the _Cento Novelle antiche_, p. 84 of the edition + of Florence, 1825.--L. and M. + +In the Duchy of Burgundy there was a Duke who was a very honourable +and handsome Prince. He had married a wife whose beauty pleased him so +greatly that it kept him from knowledge of her character, and he took +thought only how he might please her, whilst she made excellent show of +returning his affection. Now the Duke had in his household a gentleman +filled with all the perfection that could be sought for in a man. He +was loved by all, more especially by the Duke, who had reared him +from childhood near his own person; and, finding him possessed of such +excellent qualities, the Duke loved him exceedingly and trusted him with +all such matters as one of his years could understand. + +The Duchess, who had not the heart of a virtuous woman and Princess, +and was not content with the love that her husband bore her and the good +treatment that she had at his hands, often observed this gentleman, +and so much to her liking did she find him, that she loved him beyond +measure. This she strove unceasingly to make known to him, as well by +soft and piteous glances as by sighs and passionate looks. + +But the gentleman, whose inclinations had ever been to virtue alone, +could not perceive wickedness in a lady who had so little excuse for it, +and so the glances and looks of the poor wanton bore no fruit save her +own frenzied despair. This at last drove her to extremes, and forgetting +that she was a woman fit to be entreated and yet to refuse, and a +Princess made to be worshipped by such lovers and yet to hold them in +scorn, she acted with the spirit of a man transported by passion, with a +view to rid herself of the fire which she could no longer endure. + +Accordingly, one day when her husband was gone to the council, at which +the gentleman by reason of his youth was not present, she beckoned him +to come to her, which he did, thinking that she had some command to +give him. But leaning on his arm, like a woman wearied with repose, she +brought him to walk in a gallery, where she said to him-- + +“I marvel that you who are so handsome and young, and full of excellent +grace, have lived in this company, where are so many beautiful ladies, +and yet have been lover or true knight to none.” Then, looking at him as +graciously as she was able, she waited for his reply. + +“Madam,” he said, “if I were worthy that your Highness should stoop to +think of me, you would have still greater reason to marvel at seeing a +man so little worthy of love as I am, offer his service where it would +be rejected or scorned.” + +On hearing this discreet reply, the Duchess felt she loved him more +than before. She vowed to him that there was not a lady at her Court +who would not be only too happy to have such a knight, and that he might +well make an adventure of the sort, since there was no danger but he +would come out of it with honour. The gentleman kept his eyes downcast, +not daring to meet her looks, which were hot enough to melt ice; but, +just as he was trying to excuse himself, the Duke sent for the Duchess +to come to the council on some matter that concerned her, and thither +with much regret she went. The gentleman never afterwards made the +slightest sign of having understood a word of what she had said to him, +at which she was exceedingly distressed and vexed; and she knew not to +what cause to impute her failure, unless it were to the foolish fear of +which she deemed the gentleman to be possessed. + +A few days afterwards, finding that he gave no sign of understanding +what she had said, she resolved on her part to set aside all fear or +shame, and to tell him of her love. She felt sure that beauty such as +hers could not be otherwise than well received, although she would fain +have had the honour of being wooed. However, she set her honour on one +side for her pleasure’s sake, and after she had several times attempted +the same fashion of discourse as at first, but without receiving any +reply to her liking, she one day plucked the gentleman by the sleeve, +and told him that she must speak to him on certain matters of weight. +The gentleman went with the humility and reverence that were her due to +a deep window into which she had withdrawn; and, on perceiving that +no one in the room could see her, she began in a trembling voice, +that halted between desire and fear, to continue her former discourse, +rebuking him for not yet having chosen some lady in the company, and +promising him that, no matter who it might be, she would help him to win +kindly treatment. + +The gentleman, who was no less vexed than astonished by her words, +replied-- + +“Madam, my heart is so tender, that, were I once refused, I should never +again have joy in this world; and I know myself to be of such little +worth that no lady at this Court would deign to accept my suit.” + +The Duchess blushed, and, imagining that at last he was indeed won, +vowed to him that she knew the most beautiful lady in the company +would, if he were willing, joyfully receive him, and afford him perfect +happiness. + +“Alas! madam,” he replied, “I do not think that there is any woman in +this company so unfortunate and so blind as to find me worthy of her +love.” + +The Duchess, finding that he would not understand her, drew the veil +of her passion somewhat aside, and, by reason of the fears which the +gentleman’s virtue caused her, spoke to him in the form of a question. + +“If fortune,” she said, “had so far favoured you that it was myself who +bore you this goodwill, what would you say?” + +The gentleman, who thought that he was dreaming when he heard her speak +in this wise, dropped on his knee, and replied-- + +“Madam, when God by His favour enables me to have both the favour of +the Duke, my master, and your own, I shall deem myself the happiest man +alive; for ‘tis the reward I crave for the loyal service of one who, +more than any other, is bound to give his life in the service of you +both. And I am sure, madam, that the love you bear my Lord aforesaid is +attended with such chastity and nobleness that, apart from myself, +who am but a worm of the earth, not even the greatest Prince and most +perfect man to be found could break the union that exists between you. +For my own part, my Lord has brought me up from childhood, and made me +what I am, and to save my life I could not entertain towards any wife, +daughter, sister or mother of his any thought contrary to what is due +from a loyal and faithful servant.” + +The Duchess would not allow him to continue, but finding that she was +in danger of obtaining a dishonourable refusal, she suddenly interrupted +him, and said-- + +“Wicked and boastful fool, who seeks any such thing from you? Do you +think that your good looks win you the love of the very flies in the +air? Nay, if you were presumptuous enough to address yourself to me, I +would show you that I love, and seek to love, none but my husband. What +I have said to you was spoken only for my amusement, to try you and +laugh at you, as I do at all foolish lovers.” + +“Madam,” said the gentleman, “I believed, and do still believe, that it +is as you say.” + +Then, without listening further, she withdrew in haste to her own +apartment, and, finding that she was followed by her ladies, went into +her closet, where she sorrowed after a fashion that cannot be described. +On the one part, the love wherein she had failed caused her mortal +sadness; on the other, her anger, both against herself for having +entered upon such foolish talk and against the gentleman for his +discreet reply, drove her into such fury that at one moment she wished +to make away with herself, and at another, to live that she might avenge +herself on one whom she now regarded as her deadly enemy. + +When she had wept for a long while, she made pretence of being ill, in +order that she might not be present at the Duke’s supper, at which the +gentleman was commonly in waiting. The Duke, who loved his wife better +than he did himself, came to see her; but the more effectually to work +her end, she told him that she believed herself to be with child, and +that her pregnancy had caused a rheum to come upon her eyes, which gave +her much pain. So passed two or three days, during which the Duchess +kept her bed in sadness and melancholy, until at last the Duke thought +that something further must be the matter. He therefore came at night +to sleep with her; but, finding that for all he could do he could in no +sort check her sighs, he said to her-- + +“You know, sweetheart, that I love you as dearly as my life, and that +if yours were lacking I could not endure my own. If therefore you would +preserve my health, I pray you tell me what causes you to sigh after +this manner; for I cannot believe that such unhappiness can come only +because you are with child.” + +The Duchess, finding that her husband was disposed to her just as she +could have wished him to be, thought that the time was come to seek +vengeance for her affliction; and embracing the Duke, she began to weep, +and said-- + +“Alas, my lord, my greatest unhappiness is to see you deceived by +those on whom is so deep an obligation to guard your substance and your +honour.” + +The Duke, on hearing this, was very desirous of knowing why she spoke +in that manner, and earnestly begged her to make the truth known to him +without fear. After refusing several times, she said-- + +“I shall never wonder, my lord, that foreigners make war on Princes, +when those who are in duty most bound to them, wage upon them a war so +cruel that loss of territory were nothing in comparison. I say this, +my lord, in reference to a certain gentleman” (naming her enemy) “who, +though reared by your own hand and treated more like a son than a +servant, has made a cruel and base attempt to ruin the honour of your +wife, in which is also bound up the honour of your house and your +children. Although for a long time he showed me such looks as pointed to +his wicked purpose, yet my heart, which only cares for you, understood +nothing of them; and so at last he declared himself in words to which +I returned a reply such as beseemed my condition and my chastity. +Nevertheless, I now so hate him that I cannot endure to look at him, +and for this cause I have continued in my own apartment and lost the +happiness of fellowship with you. I entreat you, my lord, keep not this +pestilence near your person; for, after such a crime, he might fear lest +I should tell you of it, and so attempt worse. This, my lord, is the +cause of my sorrow, and methinks it were right and fitting that you +should deal with it forthwith.” + +The Duke, who on the one hand loved his wife and felt himself grievously +affronted, and on the other loved his servant, whose faithfulness he had +so fully tried that he could scarce believe this falsehood against him, +was in great distress and filled with anger. Repairing to his own room, +he sent word to the gentleman to come no more into his presence, but to +withdraw to his lodging for a time. The gentleman, being ignorant of the +cause of this, was grieved exceedingly, for he knew that he had deserved +the opposite of such unworthy treatment. Aware, then, of his own +innocence in heart and deed, he sent a comrade to speak to the Duke and +take him a letter, humbly entreating that if any evil report had caused +his banishment, his master would be pleased to suspend judgment until he +had heard from himself the truth of the matter, when it would be found +that he had been guilty of no offence. + +When the Duke saw this letter, his anger was somewhat abated. He +secretly sent for the gentleman to his own room, and with wrathful +countenance said-- + +“I could never have thought that the care I took to rear you as my own +child would be changed into regret at having so highly advanced you; +but you have attempted what was more hurtful to me than loss of life +or substance, and have sought to assail the honour of one who is half +myself, and so bring infamy on my house and name. You may be assured +that this outrage is so wounding to my heart that, were it not for my +doubt whether it be true or not, you would have already been at the +bottom of the water, and so have received in secret due punishment for +the wrong that in secret you intended against me.” + +The gentleman was in no wise dismayed by this discourse, but, ignorant +as he was of the truth, spoke forth with confidence and entreated the +Duke to name his accuser, since such a charge should be justified rather +with the lance than with the tongue. + +“Your accuser,” said the Duke, “carries no weapon but chastity. Know, +then, that none other but my wife has told me this, and she begged me to +take vengeance upon you.” + +The poor gentleman, though he then perceived the lady’s great +wickedness, would not accuse her. + +“My lord,” he replied, “my lady may say what she will. You know her +better than I do, and you are aware if ever I saw her when out of your +sight, save only on one occasion, when she spoke but little with me. +You have, moreover, as sound a judgment as any Prince alive; wherefore I +pray you, my lord, judge whether you have ever seen aught in me to cause +any suspicion; and remember love is a fire that cannot be hidden so as +never to be known of by those who have had a like distemper. So I pray +you, my lord, to believe two things of me: first, that my loyalty to you +is such that were my lady, your wife, the fairest being in the world, +love would never avail to make me stain my honour and fidelity; and +secondly, that even were she not your wife, I should be least in love +with her of all the women I have ever known, since there are many others +to whom I would sooner plight my troth.” + +On hearing these words of truth, the Duke began to be softened, and +said-- + +“I assure you, on my part, that I did not believe it. Do, therefore, +according to your wont, in the assurance that, if I find the truth to be +on your side, I will love you yet better than before. But if it be not +so, your life is in my hands.” + +The gentleman thanked him and offered to submit to any pain or penalty +if he were found guilty. + +The Duchess, on seeing the gentleman again in waiting as had formerly +been his wont, could not endure it in patience, but said to her +husband-- + +“‘Twould be no more than you deserve, my lord, if you were poisoned, +since you put more trust in your deadly enemies than in your friends.” + +“I pray you, sweetheart, do not torment yourself in this matter,” said +the Duke. “If I find that you have told me true, I promise you he shall +not live four and twenty hours. But he has sworn to the contrary, and I +have myself never perceived any such fault, and so I cannot believe it +without complete proof.” + +“In good sooth, my lord,” she replied, “your goodness renders his +wickedness the greater. What more complete proof would you have than +this, that no love affair has ever been imputed to him? Believe me, my +lord, were it not for the lofty purpose that he took into his head of +being my lover, he would not have continued so long without a mistress; +for never did a young man live solitary as he does in such good company, +unless he had fixed his heart so high as to be content merely with his +own vain hope. Since, then, you think that he is not hiding the truth +from you, put him, I beg you, on oath as regards his love. If he loves +another, I am content that you should believe him, and if not, you will +know that what I say is true.” + +The Duke thought his wife’s reasonings very good, and, taking the +gentleman into the country with him, said-- + +“My wife continues still of the same mind, and has set before me an +argument that causes me grave suspicion against you. It is deemed +strange that you who are so gallant and young have never been known to +love, and this makes me think that you have such affection for her as +she says, and that the hope it gives you renders you content to think +of no other woman. As a friend, therefore, I pray you, and as a master I +command you to tell me whether you are in love with any lady on earth.” + +Although the gentleman would have fain concealed his passion yet as +he loved his life, he was obliged, on seeing his master’s jealousy, to +swear to him that he did indeed love one whose beauty was so great, that +the beauty of the Duchess or of any lady of the Court would be simply +ugliness beside it. But he entreated that he might never be compelled to +name her, since the agreement between himself and his sweetheart was of +such a nature that it could not be broken excepting by whichever of them +should be the first to make it known. + +The Duke promised not to urge him, and being quite satisfied with him, +treated him with more kindness than ever before. The Duchess perceived +this, and set herself with her wonted craft to find out the reason. +The Duke did not hide it from her; whereupon strong jealousy sprang up +beside her desire for vengeance, and she begged her husband to command +the gentleman to name his sweetheart. She assured him that the story was +a lie, and that the course she urged was the best means of testing +it. If the gentleman, said she, did not name her whom he deemed so +beautiful, and his master believed him on his mere word, he would indeed +be the most foolish Prince alive. + +The poor Duke, whose wife directed his thoughts at her pleasure, went to +walk alone with the gentleman, and told him that he was in even greater +trouble than before; for he was greatly minded to believe that he had +been given an excuse to keep him from suspecting the truth. This was a +greater torment to him than ever; and he therefore begged the gentleman, +as earnestly as he was able, to name her whom he loved so dearly. The +poor gentleman entreated that he might not be made to commit so great +an offence against his mistress as to break the promise he had given her +and had kept so long, and thus lose in a day all that he had preserved +for seven years. And he added that he would rather suffer death than in +this wise wrong one who had been true to him. + +The Duke, finding that he would not tell him, became deeply jealous, and +with a wrathful countenance exclaimed-- + +“Well, choose one of two things: either tell me whom you love more than +any other, or else go into banishment from the territories over which +I rule, under pain of a cruel death if you be found within them after a +week is over.” + +If ever heart of loyal servant was torn with anguish, it was so with +that of this poor gentleman, who might well have said, _Angustiæ sunt +mihi undique_, for on the one part he saw that by telling the truth +he would lose his mistress, if she learned that he had failed in his +promise to her; while, if he did not confess it, he would be banished +from the land in which she dwelt, and be no more able to see her. Hard +pressed in this manner on all sides, there came upon him a cold sweat, +as on one whose sorrow was bringing him near to death. The Duke, +observing his looks, concluded that he loved no other lady than the +Duchess, and was enduring this suffering because he was able to name +none other. He therefore said to him with considerable harshness-- + +“If what you say were true, you would not have so much trouble in +telling me; but methinks ‘tis your crime that is tormenting you.” + +The gentleman, piqued by these words, and impelled by the love that he +bore his master, resolved to tell him the truth, believing that he was +too honourable a man ever, on any account, to reveal it. Accordingly, +throwing himself upon his knees, and clasping his hands, he said-- + +“My lord, the duty that I owe to you and the love that I bear you +constrain me more than the fear of any death. I can see that you imagine +and judge falsely concerning me, and, to take this trouble from you, I +am resolved to do that to which no torment had compelled me. But I pray +you, my lord, swear to me by the honour of God, and promise me by your +own faith as a Prince and a Christian, that you will never reveal the +secret which, since it so pleases you, I am obliged to tell.” + +Upon this the Duke swore to him with all the oaths he could think of +that he would never reveal aught of it to any living being, whether by +speech, or writing, or feature. Then the young man, feeling confidence +in so virtuous a Prince as he knew his master to be, began the building +up of his misfortune, and said-- + +“It is now seven years, my lord, since knowing your niece, the Lady +du Vergier, to be a widow and without kindred, I set myself to win her +favour. But, since I was of too lowly a birth to wed her, I contented +myself with being received by her as her true knight, as indeed I have +been. And it has pleased God that the affair has hitherto been contrived +with much discretion, so that neither man nor woman knows of it save +ourselves alone, and now, my lord, you also. I place my life and honour +in your hands, entreating you to keep the matter secret and to esteem +your niece none the less; for I think that under heaven there is no more +perfect being.” + +If ever man was rejoiced it was the Duke, for, knowing as he did the +exceeding beauty of his niece, he now had no doubt that she was more +pleasing than his wife. However, being unable to understand how so great +a mystery could have been contrived, he begged the gentleman to tell +him how it was that he was able to see her. The gentleman related to him +then that his lady’s chamber looked upon a garden, and that, on the days +when he was to visit her, a little gate was left open through which he +went in on foot until he heard the barking of a little dog which the +lady used to loose in the garden when all her women were withdrawn. Then +he went and conversed with her all night long, and, in parting from +her, would appoint a day on which he would return; and this appointment, +unless for some weighty reason, he never failed to keep. The Duke, who +was the most inquisitive man alive, and who had made love in no small +degree in his day, wished both to satisfy his suspicions and to fully +understand so strange a business; and he therefore begged the gentleman +to take him, not as a master but as a companion, the next time he went +thither. To this the gentleman, having gone so far already, consented, +saying that he had an appointment for that very day; at which the Duke +was as glad as if he had gained a kingdom. Making pretence of retiring +to rest in his closet, he caused two horses to be brought for himself +and the gentleman, and they travelled all night long from Argilly, where +the Duke lived, to Le Vergier. (2) + + 2 At Argilly the Dukes of Burgundy had a castle, which was + destroyed during the religious wars at the close of the + sixteenth century. The place is now a small village in the + arrondissement of Nuits, Côte d’Or. As the crow flies, it is + some ten miles distant from the ruins of the castle of + Vergy, which stands on a steep height, at an altitude of + over 1600 ft., within five miles from Nuits. The castle, + which can only be reached on one side of the hill, by a + narrow, winding and precipitous pathway, is known to have + been in existence already in the tenth century, when the + Lords of Vergy were Counts of Chalons, Beaune, and Nuits. + They appear to have engaged in a struggle for supremacy with + the princes of the first Ducal house of Burgundy, but in + 1193 Alix de Vergy espoused Duke Eudes III., to whom she + brought, as dower, the greater part of the paternal + inheritance. The castle of Vergy was dismantled by Henry + IV., and the existing ruins are of small extent. Some + antiquaries believe the fortress to have been originally + built by the Romans.--B.J. and L. + +Then they left their horses without the wall, and the gentleman brought +the Duke into the garden through the little gate, begging him to remain +behind a walnut-tree, whence he might see whether he had been told the +truth or not. + +They had been but a short time in the garden when the little dog began +to bark, and the gentleman walked towards the tower, where his lady +failed not to come and meet him. She kissed him, saying that it seemed +a thousand years since she had seen him, and then they went into the +chamber and shut the door behind them. + +Having seen the whole of the mystery, the Duke felt more than satisfied. +Nor had he a great while to wait, for the gentleman told his mistress +that he must needs return sooner than was his wont, since the Duke was +to go hunting at four o’clock, and he durst not fail to attend him. + +The lady, who set honour before delight, would not keep him from +fulfilling his duty; for what she prized most in their honourable +affection was that it was kept secret from all. + +So the gentleman departed an hour after midnight, and his lady in cloak +and kerchief went with him, yet not so far as she wished, for, fearing +lest she should meet the Duke, he obliged her to return. Then he +mounted with the Duke and returned to the castle of Argilly, his master +unceasingly swearing to him on the way that he would die rather than +ever reveal his secret. Moreover, he then put so much trust in the +gentleman, and had so much love for him, that no one in his Court stood +higher in his favour. The Duchess grew furious at this, but the Duke +forbade her ever to speak to him about the gentleman again, saying that +he now knew the truth about him and was well pleased, since the lady +in question was more worthy of love than herself. These words deeply +pierced the heart of the Duchess, and she fell into a sickness that was +worse than fever. + +The Duke went to see her in order to comfort her, but there was no +means of doing this except by telling her the name of this beautiful and +dearly loved lady. She pressed him urgently to do this, until at last +the Duke went out of the room, saying-- + +“If you speak to me again after this fashion, we shall part one from the +other.” + +These words increased the sickness of the Duchess, and she pretended +that she felt her infant stirring, at which the Duke was so rejoiced +that he came and lay beside her. But, just when she saw him most loving +towards her, she turned away, and said-- + +“I pray you, my lord, since you have no love for either wife or child, +leave us to die together.” + +With these words she gave vent to many tears and lamentations, and the +Duke was in great fear lest she should lose her child. He therefore took +her in his arms and begged her to tell him what she would have, since he +possessed nothing that was not also hers. + +“Ah, my lord,” she replied, weeping, “what hope can I have that you +would do a hard thing for me, when you will not do the easiest and most +reasonable in the world, which is to name to me the mistress of the +wickedest servant you ever had? I thought that you and I had but one +heart, one soul, and one flesh. But now I see that you look upon me as +a stranger, seeing that your secrets, which should be known to me, are +hidden from me as though I were a stranger. Alas! my lord, you have told +me many weighty and secret matters, of which you have never known me to +speak, you have proved my will to be like to your own, and you cannot +doubt but that I am less myself than you. And if you have sworn never to +tell the gentleman’s secret to another, you will not break your oath in +telling it to me, for I am not and cannot be other than yourself. I have +you in my heart, I hold you in my arms, I have in my womb a child in +whom you live, and yet I may not have your heart as you have mine. The +more faithful and true I am to you, the more cruel and stern are you to +me, so that a thousand times a day do I long by a sudden death to rid +my child of such a father and myself of such a husband. And I hope that +this will be ere long, since you set a faithless servant before a wife +such as 1 am to you, and before the life of the mother of your child, +which will perish because I cannot have of you that which I most desire +to know.” + +So saying, she embraced and kissed her husband, and watered his face +with her tears, uttering the while such lamentations and sighs that the +good Prince feared to lose wife and child together, and resolved to tell +her all the truth of the matter. Nevertheless, he first swore to her +that if ever she revealed it to a living being she should die by his +own hand; and she agreed to and accepted this punishment. Then the poor, +deceived husband told her all that he had seen from beginning to end, +and she made show of being well pleased. In her heart she was minded +very differently, but through fear of the Duke she concealed her passion +as well as she was able. + +Now on a certain great feast-day the Duke held his Court, to which he +had bidden all the ladies of that country, and among the rest his +niece. When the dances began, all did their duty save the Duchess, who, +tormented by the sight of her niece’s beauty and grace, could neither +make merry nor prevent her spleen from being perceived. At last she +called all the ladies, and making them scat themselves around her, began +to talk of love; and seeing that the Lady du Vergier said nothing, she +asked her, with a heart which jealousy was rending-- + +“And you, fair niece, is it possible that your beauty has found no lover +or true knight?” + +“Madam,” replied the Lady du Vergier, “my beauty has not yet made such +a conquest. Since my husband’s death I have sought to love none but his +children, with whom I deem myself happy.” + +“Fair niece, fair niece,” replied the Duchess, with hateful spleen, +“there is no love so secret that it is not known, and no little dog so +well broken in and trained that it cannot be heard to bark.” + +I leave you to imagine, ladies, what sorrow the poor Lady du Vergier +felt in her heart on finding a matter, so long concealed, thus made +known to her great dishonour. Her honour, which had been so carefully +guarded and was now wofully lost, tortured her, but still more so her +suspicion that her lover had failed in his promise to her. This she did +not think he could have done, unless it were that he loved some lady +fairer than herself, to whom his love had constrained him to make the +whole matter known. Yet so great was her discretion that she gave no +sign, but replied laughing to the Duchess that she did not understand +the language of animals. However, beneath this prudent concealment her +heart was filled with sadness, so that she rose up, and, passing out of +the chamber, entered a closet in sight of the Duke, who was walking up +and down. + +Having thus reached a place where she believed herself to be alone, the +poor lady let herself fall helplessly upon a bed, whereat a damsel, who +had sat down beside it to sleep, rose up and drew back the curtains +to see who this might be. Finding that it was the Lady du Vergier, +who believed herself to be alone, she durst say nothing to her, but +listened, making as little noise as she was able. And in a stifled voice +the poor Lady du Vergier began to lament, saying-- + +“O unhappy one, what words have I heard? to what decree of death have I +hearkened? what final sentence have I received? O best beloved of men, +is this the reward of my chaste, honourable and virtuous love? O my +heart, hast thou made so parlous an election, and chosen for the +most loyal the most faithless, for the truest the most false, for the +discreetest the most slanderous? Alas! can it be that a thing hidden +from every human eye has been revealed to the Duchess? Alas, my little +dog, so well taught and the sole instrument of my love and virtuous +affection, it was not you who betrayed me, it was he whose voice is +louder than a dog’s bark, and whose heart is more thankless than any +brute’s. Tis he who, contrary to his oath and promise, has made known +the happy life which, wronging none, we so long have led together. O my +beloved, the love of whom alone has entered into my heart, and preserved +my life, must you now be declared my deadly foe, while mine honour is +given to the winds, my body to the dust, and my soul to its everlasting +abode? Is the beauty of the Duchess so exceeding great that, like the +beauty of Circe, it has bewitched and transformed you? Has she turned +you from virtue to vice, from goodness to wickedness, from being a man +to be a beast of prey? O my beloved, though you have failed in your +promise to me, yet will I keep mine to you, and, now that our love has +been revealed, will never see you more. Nevertheless, I cannot live +without your presence, and so I gladly yield to my exceeding sorrow, and +will seek for it no cure either in reason or in medicine. Death alone +shall end it, and death will be sweeter to me than life on earth without +lover, honour or happiness. Neither war nor death has robbed me of my +lover; no sin or fault of mine has robbed me of my honour; neither error +nor demerit of mine has made me lose my joy. ‘Tis cruel fate that +has rendered the most favoured of men thankless, and has caused me to +receive the contrary of that which I deserved. + +“Ah, my Lady Duchess, what delight it was to you to taunt me with my +little dog! Rejoice, then, in the happiness you owe to me alone; taunt +her who thought by careful concealment and virtuous love to be free from +any taunt. Ah! how those words have bruised my heart! how they have made +me blush for shame and pale for jealousy! Alas, my heart, I feel that +thou art indeed undone! The wicked love that has discovered me burns +thee; jealousy of thee and evil intent towards thee are to thee as ice +and death; while wrath and sorrow do not suffer me to comfort thee. +Alas, poor soul, that in adoring the creature didst forget the Creator, +thou must return into the hands of Him from whom vain love tore thee +away. Have trust, my soul, that thou wilt find in Him a Father kinder +than was the lover for whose sake thou hast so often forgotten Him. O my +God, my Creator, Thou who art the true and perfect love, by whose grace +the love I bore to my beloved has been stained by no blemish save +that of too great an affection, I implore Thee in mercy to receive the +soul-and spirit of one who repents that she has broken thy first and +most just commandment. And, through the merits of Him whose love passeth +all understanding, forgive the error into which excess of love has led +me, for in Thee alone do I put my perfect trust. And farewell, O my +beloved, whose empty name doth break my very heart.” + +With these words she fell backward, and her face grew pallid, her lips +blue, and her extremities cold. + +Just at this moment the gentleman she loved came into the hall, and, +seeing the Duchess dancing with the ladies, looked everywhere for his +sweetheart. Not finding her, he went into the chamber of the Duchess, +and there found the Duke, who was walking up and down, and who, guessing +his purpose, whispered in his ear-- + +“She went into that closet, and methought she was ill.” + +The gentleman asked whether he would be pleased to let him go in, and +the Duke begged him to do so. When he entered the closet he found the +Lady du Vergier, come to the last stage of her mortal life; whereat, +throwing his arms about her, he said-- + +“What is this, sweetheart? Would you leave me?” + +The poor lady, hearing the voice that she knew so well, recovered a +little strength and opened her eyes to look upon him who was the cause +of her death; but at this look her love and anguish waxed so great that, +with a piteous sigh, she yielded up her soul to God. + +The gentleman, more dead than the dead woman herself, asked the damsel +who was there how this sickness had come upon his sweetheart, and she +told him all the words that she had heard. Then the gentleman knew that +the Duke had revealed the secret to his wife, and felt such frenzy that, +whilst embracing his sweetheart’s body, he for a long time watered it +with his tears, saying-- + +“O traitorous, wicked and unhappy lover that I am! why has not the +punishment of my treachery fallen upon me, and not upon her who is +innocent? Why was I not struck by a bolt from heaven on the day when my +tongue revealed the secret and virtuous love between us? Why did not +the earth open to swallow up this traitor to his troth? O tongue, mayest +thou be punished as was the tongue of the wicked rich man in hell! + +“O heart, too fearful of death and banishment, mayest thou be torn +continually by eagles as was the heart of Ixion! (3) + + 3 Queen Margaret’s memory plainly failed her here.--Ed. + +“Alas, sweetheart, the greatest of all the greatest woes has fallen upon +me! I thought to keep you, but I have lost you; I thought to see you for +a long time and to abide with you in sweet and honourable content, yet +now I embrace your dead body, and you passed away in sore displeasure +with me, with my heart and with my tongue. O most loyal and faithful of +women, I do confess myself the most disloyal, fickle and faithless of +all men. Gladly would I complain of the Duke in whose promise I trusted, +hoping thus to continue our happy life; but alas! I should have known +that none could keep our secret better than I kept it myself. The Duke +had more reason in telling his secret to his wife than I in telling mine +to him. I accuse none but myself of the greatest wickedness that was +ever done between lovers. I ought to have submitted to be cast into the +moat as he threatened to do with me; at least, sweetheart, you would +then have lived in widowhood and I have died a glorious death in +observing the law that true love enjoins. But through breaking it I am +now in life, and you, through perfectness of love, are dead; for your +pure, clear heart could not bear to know the wickedness of your lover. + +“O my God! why didst Thou endow me with so light a love and so ignorant +a heart? Why didst thou not create me as the little dog that faithfully +served his mistress? Alas, my little friend, the joy your bark was wont +to give me is turned to deadly sorrow, now that another than we twain +has heard your voice. Yet, sweetheart, neither the love of the Duchess +nor of any living woman turned me aside, though indeed that wicked one +did often ask and entreat me. ‘Twas by my ignorance, which thought to +secure our love for ever, that I was overcome. Yet for that ignorance am +I none the less guilty; for I revealed my sweetheart’s secret and broke +my promise to her, and for this cause alone do I see her lying dead +before my eyes. Alas, sweetheart, death will to me be less cruel than +to you, whose love has ended your innocent life. Methinks it would not +deign to touch my faithless and miserable heart; for life with dishonour +and the memory of that which I have lost through guilt would be harder +to bear than ten thousand deaths. Alas, sweetheart, had any dared to +slay you through mischance or malice, I should quickly have clapped hand +to sword to avenge you; ‘tis therefore right that I should not pardon +the murderer who has caused your death by a more wicked act than any +sword-thrust. Did I know a viler executioner than myself, I would +entreat him to put your traitorous lover to death. O Love! I have +offended thee from not having known how to love, and therefore thou wilt +not succour me as thou didst succour her who kept all thy laws. ‘Tis not +right that I should die after so honourable a manner; but ‘tis well that +I should die by mine own hand. I have washed your face, sweet, with my +tears, and with my tongue have craved your forgiveness; and now it only +remains for my hand to make my body like unto yours, and send my soul +whither yours will go, in the knowledge that a virtuous and honourable +love can never end, whether in this world or in the next.” + +Rising up from the body he then, like a frenzied man beside himself, +drew his dagger and with great violence stabbed himself to the heart. +Then he again took his sweetheart in his arms, kissing her with such +passion that it seemed as though he were seized rather with love than +with death. + +The damsel, seeing him deal himself the blow, ran to the door and called +for help. The Duke, on hearing the outcry, suspected misfortune to those +he loved, and was the first to enter the closet, where he beheld the +piteous pair. He sought to separate them, and, if it were possible, to +save the gentleman; but the latter clasped his sweetheart so fast that +he could not be taken from her until he was dead. Nevertheless he heard +the Duke speaking to him and saying--“Alas! what is the cause of this?” + To which, with a glance of fury, he replied--“My tongue, my lord, and +yours.” So saying, he died, with his face close pressed to that of his +mistress. + +The Duke, wishing to know more of the matter, made the damsel tell him +what she had seen and heard; and this she did at full length, sparing +nothing. Then the Duke, finding that he was himself the cause of all +this woe, threw himself upon the two dead lovers, and, with great +lamentation and weeping, kissed both of them several times and asked +their forgiveness. And after that he rose up in fury, and drew the +dagger from the gentleman’s body; and, just as a wild boar, wounded with +a spear, rushes headlong against him that has dealt the blow, so did the +Duke now seek out her who had wounded him to the bottom of his soul. He +found her dancing in the hall, and more merry than was her wont at +the thought of the excellent vengeance she had wreaked on the Lady du +Vergier. + +The Duke came upon her in the midst of the dance, and said-- + +“You took the secret upon your life, and upon your life shall fall the +punishment.” + +So saying, he seized her by the head-dress and stabbed her with the +dagger in the breast. All the company were astonished, and it was +thought that the Duke was out of his mind; but, having thus worked his +will, he brought all his retainers together in the hall and told them +the virtuous and pitiful story of his niece, and the evil that his wife +had wrought her. And those who were present wept whilst they listened. + +Then the Duke ordered that his wife should be buried in an abbey which +he founded partly to atone for the sin that he had committed in killing +her; and he caused a beautiful tomb to be built, in which the bodies of +his niece and the gentleman were laid together, with an epitaph setting +forth their tragic story. And the Duke undertook an expedition against +the Turks, in which God so favoured him, that he brought back both +honour and profit. On his return, he found his eldest son now able to +govern his possessions, and so left all to him, and went and became a +monk in the abbey where his wife and the two lovers were buried. And +there did he spend his old age happily with God. + +“Such, ladies, is the story which you begged me to relate, and which, +as I can see from your eyes, you have not heard without compassion. It +seems to me that you should take example by it, and beware of placing +your affections upon men; for, however honourable or virtuous these +affections may be, in the end they have always an aftertaste of evil. +You see how St. Paul would not that even married people should so +deeply love each other; (4) for the more our hearts are set upon earthly +things, the more remote are they from heavenly affection, and the harder +is the tie to be broken. I therefore pray you, ladies, ask God for His +Holy Spirit, who will so fire your hearts with the love of God, that +when death comes, you will not be pained at leaving that which you love +too well in this world.” + + 4 I _Corinthians_ vii. 32-5.--M. + +“If their love,” said Geburon, “was as honourable as you describe, why +was it needful to keep it so secret?” + +“Because,” said Parlamente, “the wickedness of men is so great, that +they can never believe deep love to be allied with honour, but judge +men and women to be wicked according to their own passions. Hence, if a +woman has a dear friend other than one of her nearest kinsfolk, she must +speak with him in secret if she would speak long with him; for a woman’s +honour is attacked, whether she love virtuously or viciously, since +people judge only from appearances.” + +“But,” said Geburon, “when a secret of that kind is revealed, people +think far worse of it.” + +“I grant you that,” said Longarine; “and so it is best not to love at +all.” + +“We appeal from that sentence,” said Dagoucin, “for, did we believe the +ladies to be without love, we would fain be ourselves without life. I +speak of those who live but to win love: and, even if they secure it +not, yet the hope of it sustains them and prompts them to do a thousand +honourable deeds, until old age changes their fair sufferings to other +pains. But, did we think that ladies were without love, it were needful +we should turn traders instead of soldiers, and instead of winning fame, +think only of hea’ping up riches.” + +“You would say, then,” said Hircan, “that, were there no women, we +should all be dastards, as though we had no courage save such as they +put into us. But I am of quite the opposite opinion, and hold that +nothing weakens a man’s courage so much as to consort with women or love +them too much. For this reason the Jews would not suffer a man to go to +the war within a year after his marriage, lest love for his wife should +draw him back from the dangers that he ought to seek.” (5) + + 5 See _Deuteronomy_ xx. 5, 6, 7; and the comments thereon + of Rabelais (book iii. ch. vi.).--M. + +“I consider that law,” said Saffredent, “to have been without reason, +for nothing will more readily make a man leave his home than marriage. +The war without is not harder of endurance than the war within; and I +think that, to make men desirous of going into foreign lands instead of +lingering by their hearths, it were only needful to marry them.” + +“It is true,” said Ennasuite, “that marriage takes from them the care +of their houses; for they trust in their wives, and for their own part +think only of winning fame, feeling certain that their wives will give +due heed to the profit.” + +“However that may be,” replied Saffredent, “I am glad that you are of my +opinion.” + +“But,” said Parlamente, “you are not discussing what is chiefly to be +considered, and that is why the gentleman, who was the cause of all the +misfortune, did not as quickly die of grief as she who was innocent.” + +Nomerfide replied-- + +“‘Twas because women love more truly than men.” + +“Nay,” said Simontault, “‘twas because the jealousy and spitefulness of +women make them die without knowing the reason, whereas men are led by +their prudence to inquire into the truth of the matter. When this has +been learnt through their sound sense, they display their courage, as +this gentleman did; for, as soon as he understood the reason of his +sweetheart’s misfortune, he showed how truly he loved her and did not +spare his own life.” + +“Yet,” said Ennasuite, “she died of true love, for her steadfast and +loyal heart could not endure to be so deceived.” + +“It was her jealousy,” said Simontault, “which would not yield to +reason, so that she believed evil of her lover of which he was not +guilty at all. Moreover, her death was matter of necessity, for she +could not prevent it, whilst her lover’s death was voluntary, after he +had recognised his own wrongdoing.” + +“Still,” said Nomerfide, “the love must needs be great that causes such +deep sorrow.” + +“Have no fear of it,” said Hircan, “for you will never die of that kind +of fever.” + +“Nor,” said Nomerfide, “will you ever kill yourself after recognising +your error.” + +Here Parlamente, who suspected that the dispute was being carried on at +her own expense, said, laughing-- + +“‘Tis enough that two persons should have died of love, without two +others fighting for the same cause. And there is the last bell sounding +for vespers, which will have us gone whether you be willing or not.” + +By her advice the whole company then rose and went to hear vespers, not +forgetting in their fervent prayers the souls of those true lovers, for +whom, also, the monks, of their charity, said a _De profundis_. As long +as supper lasted there was no talk save of the Lady du Vergier, and +then, when they had spent a little time together, they withdrew to their +several apartments, and so brought to an end the Seventh Day. + + +[Illustration: 213.jpg Tailpiece] + + + + +EIGHTH DAY. + +_On the Eighth Day relation is made of the greatest yet truest follies +that each can remember_. + + + + +PROLOGUE. + +When morning was come they inquired whether their bridge (1) were being +well advanced, and found that it might be finished in two or three days. +These were not welcome tidings to some among the company, for they +would gladly have had the work last a longer time, so as to prolong +the happiness that they enjoyed in this pleasant mode of life. Finding, +however, that only two or three such days were left, they resolved to +turn them to account, and begged the Lady Oisille to give them their +spiritual nourishment as had been her wont. This she forthwith did, +but she detained them longer than usual, for before setting forth she +desired to finish reading the canonical writings of St. John; and so +well did she acquit herself of this, that it seemed as if the Holy +Spirit in all His love and sweetness spoke by her mouth. Glowing with +this heavenly flame, they went to hear high mass, and afterwards dined +together, again speaking of the past day, and doubting whether they +could make another as fair. + + 1 The allusion is to the bridge over the Gave spoken of in + the General Prologue (_ante_, vol. i. p. 25-6).--M. + +In order to set about it, they retired to their own rooms until it was +time to repair to their Chamber of Accounts on the Board of Green Grass, +where they found the monks already arrived and in their places. + +When all were seated, the question was put, who should begin; and +Saffredent said-- + +“You did me the honour to have me begin on two days. Methinks we should +act wrongly towards the ladies if one of them did not also begin on +two.” + +“It were then needful,” said the Lady Oisille, “either that we should +continue here for a great while, or else that a gentleman and a lady of +the company should forego the beginning of a day.” + +“For my part,” said Dagoucin, “had I been chosen, I would have given my +place to Saffredent.” + +“And I,” said Nomerfide, “to Parlamente, for I have been so wont to +serve that I know not how to command.” + +To this all agreed, and Parlamente thus began-- + +“Ladies, the days that are past have been filled with so many tales of +wisdom, that I would beg you to fill this one with the greatest (yet +most real) follies that we can remember. So, to lead the way, I will +begin.” + + +[Illustration: 219a. The Saddler’s Wife Cured by the sight of her Husband +Caressing the Serving-maid] + +[The Saddler’s Wife Cured by the sight of her Husband Caressing the +Serving-maid] + +[Illustration: 219.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXXI_. + + _A saddler’s wife, who was grievously sick, was made whole + and recovered the power of speech, which for the space of + two days site had lost, on seeing her husband holding his + serving-maid too familiarly on the bed whilst she herself + was drawing to her end_. + +In the town of Amboise there lived one Brimbaudier, (1) saddler to the +Queen of Navarre, and a man whose colour of feature showed him to be +by nature rather a servant of Bacchus than a priest of Diana. He had +married a virtuous woman who controlled his household very discreetly, +and with whom he was well content. + + 1 Boaistuau gives the name as Bruribandier, and Gruget + transforms it into Borribaudier. M, Pifteau, after examining + the MSS., is doubtful whether Brimbaudier is the correct + reading. Bromardier, which in old French meant a tippler + (Ducange, _Briemardum_), would have been an appropriate name + for the individual referred to.--Ed. + +One day it was told him that his good wife was sick and in great danger, +at which tidings he was in the greatest trouble imaginable. He went with +all speed to her aid, and found her so low, poor woman, that she had +more need of a confessor than a doctor. Thereupon he made the most +pitiful lamentation that could be, but to represent it well ‘twere +needful to speak thickly as he did, (2) and better still to paint one’s +face like his. + + 2 Curiously enough, the transcriber of MS. No. 1520 + attempts to give some idea of the husband’s pronunciation by + transforming all his r’s into l’s. Here is an example: “Je + pelz ma povle femme, que fesai-ze, moi malhureux?... M’amie + je me meuls, je suis pis que tlepassé... je ne sçai que + faize,” &c.--L. + +When he had done all that he could for her, she asked for the cross, and +it was brought. On seeing this, the good man flung himself upon a bed in +despair, crying and saying in his thick speech-- + +“Ah God! I am losing my poor wife! What shall I do, unhappy man that I +am?” + +After uttering many such complaints, he perceived that there was no one +in the room but a young servant-maid, passably fair and buxom, and he +called to her in a whisper. + +“Sweetheart,” he said, “I am dying. I am more than dead to see your +mistress dying in this manner. I know not what to do or say, except +that I commend myself to you, and beg you to care for my house and my +children. Take therefore the keys from my side, and order the household, +for I myself can attend to nothing more.” + +The poor girl had pity on him and comforted him, begging him not to +despair, so that, if she must lose her mistress, she might not also lose +her good master. + +“Sweetheart,” he replied, “‘tis all of no avail, for I am indeed dying. +See yourself how cold my face is; bring your cheeks close to mine and +warm them.” + +With this he laid his hand upon her breast. She tried to make some +difficulty, but he begged her to have no fear, since they must indeed +see each other more closely. And speaking in this wise, he took her in +his arms and threw her upon the bed. + +Then his wife, whose only company was the cross and the holy water, +and who had not spoken for two days, began to cry out as loudly as her +feeble voice enabled her-- + +“Ah! ah! ah! I am not dead yet!” And threatening them with her hand, she +repeated--“Villain! monster! I am not dead yet!” + +On hearing her voice, the husband and maid rose up, but she was in such +a rage against them that her anger consumed the catarrhal humour that +had prevented her from speaking, and she poured upon them all the abuse +that she could think of. And from that hour she began to mend, though +not without often reproaching her husband for the little love he bore +her. (3) + + 3 This story was imitated by Noël du Fail de La Hérissaye + in his _Contes d’Eutrapel_ (ch. v._ De la Goutte_), where + the hero of the incident is called Glaume Esnaut de + Tremeril. “It is said,” writes Du Fail, “that the wife of + that rascal Glaume of Tremeril when at the point of death, + on seeing Glaume too familiar with her serving-woman, + recovered her senses, saying, ‘Ah! wicked man, I am not yet + so low as you thought. By God’s grace, mistress baggage, you + shall go forth at once.’” Curiously enough, the 1585 edition + of the _Contes d’Eutrapel_ was printed at Rennes for Noël + Glame, virtually the same name as Glaume.--M. + +“By this you see, ladies, the hypocrisy of men, and how a little +consolation will make them forget their sorrow for their wives.” + +“How do you know,” said Hircan, “that he had not heard that such was the +best remedy his wife could have? Since his kindly treatment availed +not to cure her, he wished to try whether the opposite would prove any +better, and the trial was a very fortunate one. But I marvel that you +who are a woman should have shown how the constitution of your sex is +brought to amendment rather by foul means than by fair.” + +“Without doubt,” said Longarine, “behaviour of that kind would make me +rise not merely from my bed, but from a grave such as that yonder.” + +“And what wrong did he do her,” asked Saffre-dent, “by comforting +himself when he thought that she was dead? It is known that the +marriage-tie lasts only through life, and that when this is ended it is +loosed.” + +“Ay,” said Oisille, “loosed from oath and bond, but a good heart is +never loosed from love. The husband you have told us of was indeed quick +to forget his grief, since he could not wait until his wife had breathed +her last.” + +“What I think strangest of all,” said Nomerfide, “is that, when death +and the cross were before his eyes, he should not have lost all desire +to offend against God.” + +“A brave argument!” said Simontault. “You would therefore not be +surprised to see a man act wantonly provided he were a good distance +from the church and cemetery?” + +“You may laugh at me as much as you please,” said Nomerfide; +“nevertheless the contemplation of death must greatly chill a heart, +however young it may be.” + +“I should indeed be of the same opinion as yourself,” said Dagoucin, “if +I had not heard a Princess say the opposite.” + +“In other words.” said Parlamente, “she told some story about it. If it +be so, I will give you my place that you may relate it to us.” + +Then Dagoucin began as follows:-- + + +[Illustration: 224.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 225a. The Monk Conversing with the Nun while Shrouding +a Dead Body] + +[The Monk Conversing with the Nun while Shrouding a Dead Body] + +[Illustration: 225.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXXII_. + + _Whilst engaged in the last deed of charity, the shrouding + of a dead body, a monk did also engage with a nun in the + deeds of the flesh, and made her big with child_. (1) + + + +In one of the finest towns of France after Paris there stood an hospital +(2) richly endowed--namely, with a Prioress and fifteen or sixteen nuns, +while in another building there was a Prior and seven or eight monks. +Every day the monks said mass, but the nuns only their paternosters and +the Hours of Our Lady, for they were occupied in tending the sick. + + 1 Gruget first printed this tale, which was not given by + Boaistuau.--L. + + 2 It is impossible to say what town and hospital Margaret + here refers to. Lyons is the scene of the latter part of the + story; and we are inclined to think that the earlier + incidents may have occurred at Dijon, where there was a + famous hospital under ecclesiastical management, founded by + Eudes III., seventh Duke of Burgundy.--L. and Ed. + +One day it chanced that a poor man died, and the nuns, being all +assembled with him, after giving him every remedy for his health, sent +for one of their monks to confess him. Then, finding that he was growing +weaker, they gave him the extreme unction, after which he little by +little lost the power of speech. + +But as he was a long time in passing away, and it seemed that he could +still hear, the nuns continued speaking to him with the most comforting +words they knew, until at last they grew weary, and, finding that night +was come and that it was late, retired one after another to rest. Thus, +to shroud the body, there remained only one of the youngest of the nuns, +with a monk whom she feared more than the Prior or any other, by reason +of the severity that he displayed in both speech and life. + +When they had duly uttered their Hours in the poor man’s ear, they +perceived that he was dead, and thereupon laid him out. Whilst +engaged on this last deed of charity, the monk began to speak of +the wretchedness of life, and the blessedness of death; and in such +discourse they continued until after midnight. + +The poor girl listened attentively to the monk’s pious utterances, +looking at him the while with tears in her eyes; and so pleasing were +these to him that, whilst speaking of the life to come, he began +to embrace her as though he longed to bear her away in his arms to +Paradise. + +The poor girl, listening to his discourse and deeming him the most pious +of the community, ventured not to say him nay. + +Perceiving this, the wicked monk, whilst still speaking of God, +accomplished with her the work which the devil suddenly put into their +hearts--for before there had been no question of such a thing. He +assured her, however, that secret sin was not imputed to men by God, and +that two persons who had no ties, could do no wrong in this manner, +when no scandal came of it; and, to avoid all scandal, he told her to be +careful to confess to none but himself. + +So they parted each from the other, she going first. And as she passed +through a chapel dedicated to Our Lady, she was minded to make her +prayer as was her wont. But when she began with the words, “Mary, +Virgin,” she remembered that she had lost the title of virginity not +through force or love, but through foolish fear; and she began to weep +so bitterly that it seemed as if her heart must break. + +The monk, hearing the sighing from a distance, suspected her repentance, +which might make him lose his delight, and to prevent this, he came and, +finding her prostrate before the image, began to rebuke her harshly, +telling her that if she had any scruples of conscience she should +confess herself to him, and that she need not so act again unless she +desired; for she might behave in either way without sin. The foolish +nun, thinking to make atonement to God, confessed herself to the monk; +but in respect of penance he swore to her that she did no sin in loving +him, and that holy water would suffice to wash away such a peccadillo. + +Believing in him more than in God, she again some time afterwards +yielded to him, and so became big with child. At this she was in deep +grief, and entreated the Prioress to have the monk turned away from his +monastery, saying that she knew him to be so crafty that he would not +fail to seduce her. The Abbess and the Prior, who understood each other, +laughed at her, saying that she was big enough to defend herself against +a man, and that the monk she spoke of was too virtuous to do such a +deed. + +At last, urged by the prickings of her conscience, she craved license +to go to Rome, for she thought that, by confessing her sin at the Pope’s +feet, she might recover her virginity. This the Prior and Prioress very +readily granted her, for they were more willing that she should become +a pilgrim contrary to the rules of her order, than be shut up in the +convent with her present scruples. They feared also that in her despair +she might denounce the life that was led among them, and so gave her +money for her journey. + +But God brought it to pass that when she came to Lyons, my lady the +Duchess of Alençon, afterwards Queen of Navarre, being one evening after +vespers in the roodloft of the church of St. John, whither she came +secretly to perform a novena with three or four of her women, (3) +heard someone mounting the stairway whilst she was kneeling before the +crucifix. By the light of the lamp she saw it was a nun, and in order +that she might hear her devotions, the Duchess thereupon withdrew to the +corner of the altar. The nun, who believed herself to be alone, knelt +down and, beating her breast, began weeping so sorrowfully that it was +piteous to hear her; and all the while she cried naught but this--“Alas! +my God, take pity on this poor sinner.” + + 3 See _ante_, Tale LXV., note i. + +The Duchess, wishing to learn what it meant, went up to her and said, +“Dear heart, what ails you, and whence do you come, and what brings you +to this place?” + +The poor nun, who did not know her, replied, “Ah, sweet, my woe is such +that I have no help but in God; and I pray that He may bring me to speak +with the Duchess of Alençon. To her alone will I tell the matter, for I +am sure that, if it be possible, she will set it right.” + +“Dear heart,” then said the Duchess, “you may speak to me as you would +to her, for I am one of her nearest friends.” + +“Forgive me,” said the nun; “she alone must know my secret.” + +Then the Duchess told her that she might speak freely, since she had +indeed found her whom she sought. Forthwith the poor woman threw herself +at her feet, and, after she had wept, related what you have heard +concerning her hapless fortune. The Duchess consoled her so well, that +whilst she took not from her everlasting repentance for her sin, she +put from her mind the journeying to Rome, and then sent her back to her +priory with letters to the Bishop of the place to have that shameful +monk turned away. + +“I have this story from the Duchess herself, and from it you may see, +ladies, that Nomerfide’s prescription is not good for all, since these +persons fell into lewdness even while touching and laying out the dead.” + +“‘Twas a device,” said Hircan, “that methinks no man ever used before, +to talk of death and engage in the deeds of life.” + +“‘Tis no deed of life,” said Oisille, “to sin, for it is well known that +sin begets death.” + +“You may be sure,” said Saffredent, “that these poor folk gave no +thought to any such theology; but just as the daughters of Lot made +their father drunk so that the human race might be preserved, so these +persons wished to repair what death had spoiled, and to replace the dead +body by a new one. I therefore can see no harm in the matter except the +tears of the poor nun, who was always weeping and always returning to +the cause of her tears.” + +“I have known many of the same kind,” said Hircan, “who wept for their +sins and laughed at their pleasures both together.” + +“I think I know whom you mean,” said Parlamente, “and their laughter has +lasted so great a while that ‘twere time the tears should begin.” + +“Hush!” said Hircan. “The tragedy that has begun with laughter is not +ended yet.” + +“To change the subject,” said Parlamente, “it seems to me that Dagoucin +departed from our purpose. We were to tell only merry tales, and his was +very piteous.” + +“You said,” replied Dagoucin, “that you would only tell of follies, and +I think that herein I have not been lacking. But, that we may hear a +more pleasant story, I give my vote to Nomerfide, in the hope that she +will make amends for my error.” + +“I have indeed,” she answered, “a story ready which is worthy to follow +yours; for it speaks of monks and death. So I pray you give good heed.” + +_Here end the Tales and Novels of the late Queen of Navarre, that is, +all that can be recovered of them_. + + +[Illustration: 232.jpg Tailpiece] + + +APPENDIX. + + + + +THE SUPPOSED NARRATORS OF THE _HEPTAMERON_ TALES. + +In his introductory essay to this translation of the _Heptameron_, Mr. +George Saintsbury has called attention to the researches of various +commentators who have laboured to identify the supposed narrators of +Queen Margaret’s tales. As it may be fairly assumed that the setting +of the work is pure invention on the Queen’s part, the researches in +question can scarcely serve any useful purpose. Still they appear to +have had considerable attraction for several erudite editors, whose +opinions, occasionally alluded to in our notes, we will here briefly +summarise for the information of those whom the matter may interest:-- + +OISILLE, a widow lady of long experience, is supposed by Messrs. de +Lincy, Lacroix, Génin, Frank, de Montaiglon and Miss Mary Robinson to be +Louise of Savoy. In some MSS. the name is written Osyle, the anagram +of _Loyse_, in which fashion Louise was spelt in old French. It may be +pointed out, _en passant_, that Brantôme’s grandmother, the Sénéchale +of Poitou, whose connection with the _Heptameron_ is recorded, was also +named Louise (see ante, vol. i. p. lxxxii.). + +PARLAMENTE, wife of Hircan, is supposed by the same commentators to be +Queen Margaret herself; this is assumed mainly because the views +which Parlamente expresses on religion, philosophy, men and women, +are generally in accord with those which the Queen is known to have +professed. + +HIRCAN, in M. de Lincy’s opinion, might be the Duke of Alençon, +Margaret’s first husband. Messrs. Frank and Mont-aiglon, following M. +Lacroix, prefer to identify him as Henry d’Albret, King of Navarre. +They conjecture the name of Hircan to be derived from Ilanricus, a not +uncommon fashion of spelling Henricus. It might, however, simply come +from _hircus_, a he-goat, for Hircan is a man of gross, sensual tastes. + +LONGARINE, a young widow, is supposed by M. de Lincy to be Blanche de +Chastillon, _née_ de Tournon (concerning whom see _ante_, vol. i. p. 84, +n. 7, and p. 120 _et seq_.; vol. iv. p. 144, n. 2; and vol. v. p. 25, n. +2). M. Frank, however, thinks she is Aimée Motier de la Fayette, lady of +_Longray_, widow of Francis de Silly, Bailiff of Caen, and _gouvernante_ +to Queen Margaret’s daughter, Jane of Navarre. Miss Robinson shares this +opinion, but M. de Montaiglon thinks that _Longarine_ would rather +be Aimée Motier de la Fayette’s daughter Frances, married to Frederic +d’Almenesches, of one of the branches of the house of Foix. + +SIMONTAULT (occasionally _Symontaut_), a young knight, is thought by M. +de Lincy to be Henry d’Albret, Margaret’s second husband, who was of an +extremely amorous disposition, and much younger than herself. Messrs. +Frank and de Montaiglon, however, fancy _Simontault_ to have been +Francis, Baron de Bourdeilles, father of Brantôme. It is admitted, +however, that if this be the case, it is curious that Brantôme should +not have alluded to it in any of his writings, whereas he does speak +both of his mother and of his grandmother in connection with the +_Heptameron_. + +ENNASUITE (occasionally _Ennasuitte_ or _Ennasuicte_, and in some MSS. +_Emarsuite_), is supposed by Messrs. de Lincy, Frank, and de Montaiglon +to be Anne de Vivonne, wife of Francis de Bourdeilles and mother of +Brantôme (see ante, vol. iv. p. 144, n. 2). It is pointed out that the +name may be transformed into the three words _Anne et suite_. + +DAGOUCIN, a young gentleman, is thought by M. Frank to be Nicholas Dangu +(see ante, vol. i. p. 20, n. 4, and p. 40, n. 3), who became Chancellor +to the King of Navarre. M. Lacroix, however, fancies this personage to +be a Count d’Agoust. + +GEBURON, apparently an elderly man, would in M. Frank’s opinion be the +Seigneur de Burye, a captain of the Italian wars to whom Brantôme (his +cousin-german) alludes in his writings. The name of de Burye is also +found in a list of the personages present at Queen Margaret’s funeral. +M. de Montaiglon shares M. Frank’s views. + +NOMERFIDE, so M. de Lincy suggests, may have been the famous Frances +de Foix, Countess of Chateaubriand; but M. Frank opines that she is a +Demoiselle de Fimarcon or Fiédmarcon (Lat. _Feudimarco_), who in +1525 married John de Montpczat, called “Captain Carbon,” one of the +exquisites of the famous Field of the cloth of gold. Miss Robinson, +however, fancies that Nomerfide is Isabel d’Albret, sister of Margaret’s +second husband, and wife of René de Rohan. + +SAFFREDENT, so M. de Lincy thinks, may be Admiral de Bonnivet; M. Frank +suggests John de Montpezat; and Miss Robinson René de Rohan, who, after +his father Peter de Rohan-Gié (husband of Rolandine, see _ante_, vol. +iii., Tale XXI, notes 2 and 15), had been killed at Pavia, was for some +years entrusted to Queen Margaret’s care. As Miss Robinson points out, +_Saffredent_ literally means greedy tooth or sweet tooth. + +Those who may be desirous of studying and comparing these various +attempts at identification, will find all the evidence and arguments of +any value set forth in the writings of M. Frank, M. de Montaiglon and +Miss Robinson, which are specified in the Bibliography annexed to this +appendix.--Ed. + + + + +BIBLIOGRAPHY. + +Fourteen MS. copies of the _Heptameron_ are known to exist. Twelve +of these are at the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, one is at the town +library of Orleans, and one in the Vatican library. We also have some +record of four other copies which were in private libraries at the end +of the last century. + +The twelve MSS. at the Bibliothèque Nationale are the following:-- + +I. (No. 1511 in the catalogue). A folio volume bound in red morocco, +bearing the Béthune arms. This MS. is on ruled paper, and only one leaf, +the last, is missing. + +II. (No. 1512). A small folio, calf gilt, 350 leaves, from Colbert’s +library. The handwriting is that of the middle of the sixteeenth +century, and is the same throughout; the last page bearing the signature +“Doulcet.” This supplied the text followed in the present translation. + +III. (No. 1513). A small folio, half-bound in red morocco, stamped with +King Louis Philippe’s monogram. It contains only twenty-eight of the +tales. + +IV. (No. 1514). A large quarto, calf, from the De Mesmes library. +Contains only thirty-four of the tales. + +V. (No. 1515). A small folio from Colbert’s library, bound in calf, +in Groslier’s style. The text is complete, but there are numerous +interlinear and marginal corrections and additions, in the same +handwriting as MS. VII. + +VI. (Nos. 1516 to 1519). Four quarto vols., red morocco, Béthune arms. +The first prologue is deficient, as is also the last leaf of tale lxxi. + +VII. (No. 1520). A folio vol., calf and red morocco, stamped with +fleurs-de-lys and the monogram of Louis XVIII. This MS. on stout ruled +paper, in a beautiful italic handwriting of the end of the sixteenth +century, is complete. Unfortunately Queen Margaret’s phraseology has +been considerably modified, though, on the other hand, the copyist has +inserted a large number of different readings, as marginal notes, which +render his work of great value. It is frequently quoted in the present +translation. + +VIII. (No. 1523). A folio vol., calf, from the De La Marre library. The +first two leaves are deficient, and the text ends with the fifth tale of +Day IV. + +IX. (No. 1522). A small folio, bound in parchment, from the De La Marre +library. Only the tales of the first four days are complete, and on +folio 259 begins a long poem called Les Prisons, the work probably of +William Filandrier, whom Queen Margaret protected. On the first folio of +the volume is the inscription, in sixteenth-century handwriting: _Pour +ma sour Marie Philander_. The poem _Les Prisons_ is quoted on pp. +xxxviii.-ix. vol. i. of the present work. It concludes with an epitaph +on Margaret, dated 1549. + +X. (No. 1524). A folio vol. from Colbert’s library, bound in red and +yellow morocco, on which is painted, on a blue ground, a vine laden with +grapes twining round the trunk of a tree. On either side and in gold +letters is the device, _Sin e doppo la morte_ (until and after death). +Following the title-page, on which the work is called “The Decameron of +the most high and most illustrious Princess, Madame Margaret of France,” + is a curious preface signed “Adrian de Thou,” and dated “Paris, August +8, 1553.” This Adrian de Thou, Lord of Hierville and canon of Notre Dame +de Paris, counsellor and clerk of the Paris Parliament, was the fourth +son of Augustine de Thou and uncle to James Augustus de Thou, the +historian. He died in October 1570. His MS. of the _Heptameron_, a +most beautiful specimen of caligraphy, contains a long table of various +readings and obscure passages; this was consulted in preparing the text +for the present translation. The titles to the tales have also been +borrowed from this MS.; they were composed by De Thou himself, and +figure in no other MS. copy. + +XI. (No. 1525). A small folio, calf, from Colbert’s library, very +incomplete and badly written, but containing the _Miroir de Jésu Crist +crucifié_, the last poem Queen Margaret composed (see _ante_, vol. i. p. +lxxxvi.). + +XII. (No. 2155). A small quarto, red morocco, from the library of +Mazarin, whose escutcheon has been cut off. The text, which is +complete and correct, excepting that a portion of the prologue has been +accidentally transposed, is followed by an epitaph on the Queen. The +handwriting throughout is that of the end of the sixteenth century. + + +The other MSS. of the _Heptameron_ are the following:-- + +XIII. (Orleans town library, No. 352). A folio vol. of 440 pp. It is +doubtful whether this MS. is of the sixteenth or seventeenth century. +It bears the title _L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles, &c_. There are numerous +deficiencies in the text. + +XIV. (Vatican library, No. 929; from the library of Queen Christina of +Sweden). A folio vol., calf, 95 leaves, handwriting of the end of the +sixteenth century. This only contains fifteen of the stories. + +XV. (present possessor unknown). A folio vol., red morocco; text (ending +with tale lxix. ) in sixteenth-century handwriting, with illuminated +initial letters to each tale. _Catalogue des livres de feue Mme. la +Comtesse de Verrue_, Paris, G. Martin, 1737. + +XVI. (possessor unknown). MS. supposed to be the original, a large +folio, handwriting of the period, antique binding, containing the +seventy-two tales. _Catalogue des livres, &c., du cabinet de M. Filheul, +&c._, Paris, Chardin, 1779, pp. xxi. and 280. + +XVII. (possessor unknown). A folio vol., blue morocco, gilt. No. 1493 +in the catalogue of the _Bibliothèque de Simon Bernard, chez Barrois_, +Paris, 1734; and No. 213 in a _Catalogue de manuscrits intéressants qui +seront vendus... en la maison de M. Gueret, notaire_, Paris, Debure fils +jeune, 1776. + +XVIII. (possessor unknown). A folio vol., blue morocco, gilt, stamped +with the arms of France, from the Randon de Boisset library; the +seventy-two tales complete, a very fine copy. _Catalogue des livres de +la bibliothèqzie de l’Abbé Rive_, Marseilles, 1793. (This MS. should not +be confounded with No. xvii. See L. J. Hubaud’s _Dissertation sur les +Contes de la Reine de Navarre_, Marseilles, 1850.) + + +The following are the editions of Queen Margaret’s tales issued from the +press from the sixteenth century to the present time. The list has been +prepared with great care, and we believe it to be as complete a one as +can be furnished; it includes several editions not mentioned in Brunet’s +Manual:-- + +I. _Histoires des Amans Fortunez dédiées à très illustre princesse, Mme. +Marguerite de Bourbon, etc., par Pierre Boaistuau, dit Launoy_, Paris, +1558, 40. The authorisation to print and publish was accorded to Vincent +Sertenas, and the work was issued by three different booksellers; some +copies bearing the name of Gilles Robinot, others that of Jean Cavyller, +and others that of Gilles Gilles. + +This, the first edition of the Queen’s work, contains only sixty-seven +of the tales, which are not divided into days or printed in their proper +sequence; the prologues, moreover, are deficient, and all the +bold passages on religious and philosophical questions, &c, in the +conversational matter following the stories, are suppressed. + +II. _L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles de tris illustre et très excellente +Princesse Marguerite de Valois, Royne de Navarre, &c., dédié à très +illustre et très vertueuse Princesse Jeanne, Royne de Navarre, par +Claude Gruget, parisien_, Paris, Vincent Certena, or Jean Caveillier, +1559. + +This contains all the Queen’s tales excepting Nos. xi., xliv., and +xlvi., which Gruget replaced by others, probably written by himself. The +other stories are placed in their proper order, but none of the names +and passages suppressed by Boaistuau are restored. The phraseology of +the MSS., moreover, is still further modified and polished. + +The text adopted by Boaistuau and Gruget was followed, with a few +additional modifications, in all the editions issued during the later +years of the sixteenth century. Most of these are badly printed and +contain numerous typographical errors:-- + +III. _L’Heptamêron des Nouvelles, &c_. Reprint of Gruget’s edition, +sold by Vincent Sertenas, Gilles Robinot & Gilles Gille, and printed by +Benoist Prévost, Paris, 1560. + +IV. _L’Heptamêron des Nouvelles, &c_., 1560, 16mo. (No bookseller’s or +printer’s name appears in this edition. ) + +V. _L’Heptamêron, &c_. (Gruget). Guill. Rouillé, Lyons, 1561, small +12mo; Gilles Gilles, Paris, 1561, 16mo. + +VI. The same. Norment & Bruneau, and Gilles Gilles, Paris, 1567, 16mo. + +VII. The same. Louys Cloquemin, Lyons, 1572, 16mo (reprinted in 1578 and +1581). + +VIII. The same. Michel de Roigny, Paris, 1574, 16mo (round letters). + +IX. The same. Gab. Buon, Paris, 1581, 16mo. + +X. The same. Abel L’Angelier, Paris, 1581, 18mo. + +XI. The same. Jean Osmont, Rouen, 1598, 578 pp., sin. 12mo (good type). + +XII. The same. Romain Beauvais, Rouen, 1598, 589 pp. 12mo. + + +In the seventeenth century the _Heptameron_ was frequently reprinted, +Gruget’s text, with a few changes, being still followed until 1698, when +it occurred to some obscure literary man to put the tales into so-called +_beau langage_. At the same time the title of _Heptameron_, devised by +Gruget, was discarded (see post, No. XVI.). + +XIII. _L’Heptaméron_, &c., printed by Ch. Chappellein, Paris, 1607, +18mo. + +XIV. The same. _Sur Pimprimé à Paris_, J. Bessin (Holland), 1615, sm. +l2mo (reprinted in 1698, 2. vols. 12mo). + +XV. The same. David du Petit-Val, Rouen, 1625, 12mo. + +XVI. _Contes et Nouvelles de Marguerite de Valois, Reine de Navarre, mis +en beau langage_. Gallet, Amsterdam, 1698, 2 vols, sm. 8vo. This edition +is valued not for its _beau langage_, but for the copperplate engravings +illustrating it. These are coarsely executed, and are attributed to +Roman de Hooge, but do not bear his name. A reprint of the edition +appeared at Amsterdam in 1700. + +XVII. The same. Gallet, Amsterdam, 1708, 2 vols. sm. 8vo. Virtually a +reprint, but with several of the Roman de Hooge plates deficient, and +replaced by others signed Harrewyn. + +XVIII. The same. La Haye (Chartres), 1733, 2 vols. sm. 12mo. + +XIX. The same. Londres, 1744, 2 vols. 12mo. + +XX. Heptaméron Français, ou les Nouvelles de Marguerite, Reine de +Navarre; chez la Nouvelle Société Typographique, Berne, 1780-1, 3 vols. +8vo. On some copies the title is simply, Nouvelles de Marguerite, +etc., Berne, 1781; on others Béat Louis Walthard is designated as the +publisher. + +For this edition were executed the copperplate engravings, designed by +Freudenberg and Dunker, which illustrate the present translation. It was +at first intended to issue the work in parts, but after parts i. and ii. +had been published (at 4 livres each) the project was abandoned. A few +copies of these two parts are in existence; they bear the date 1778. +Freudenberg began his designs in the previous year, and finished them in +1780. + +This edition is greatly prized for its illustrations; the text, however, +largely modified by Jean Rodolphe de Sinner, is without value. The work +was reissued at Paris in 1784 (8 vols, in 8vo, some copies 18mo), at +Berne in 1792, and again in Paris in 1807 (8 vols. 18mo). + + +The following new editions of the _Heptameron_ have appeared during the +present century:-- + +XXI. _Contes et Nouvelles de Marguerite, &c_. Dauthereau, Paris, 1828, 5 +vols. 32mo. (Collection des romans français et étrangers.) + +XXII. _L’Heptamêron, ou Histoire des Amants fortunés, &c, ancien texte +publié par C. Gruget.., revu, corrigé et publié avec des notes, &c., +par le bibliophile Jacob_. Gosselin (Bibliothèque d’Élite), Paris, 1841, +12mo. In this edition the Bibliophile Jacob (M. P. Lacroix) but +slightly modified Gruget’s text, and his annotation was comparatively +insignificant. His work was reproduced in a volume of the _Panthéon +Littéraire: Les vieux Conteurs français_, Paris, 1841, 1. 8vo. (double +cols.). + +XXIII. _Heptaméron des Nouvelles de... Margtierile d’Angouléme... +publiée sur les manuscrits par la Société des Bibliophiles Français_ (Le +Roux de Lincy, editor), Paris, 1853-4, 3 vols. sm. 18mo. + +In this edition the real text of the tales was printed for the first +time, M. de Lincy having carefully examined the best MSS. for this +purpose. The present English translation is based upon his work. Copies +of the “Bibliophiles Français” edition, which contains a portrait of the +Queen, a facsimile of a miniature, and an engraving showing her arms and +device, cannot be purchased, when in fair condition, for less than £6 in +Paris. + +XXIV. _L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles, etc.... avec des notes et une +notice par P. L. Jacob, Bibliophile_ (Paul Lacroix). Adolphe Delahays, +_Bibliothèque Gauloise_, Paris, 1858, 18mo. + +In this edition M. Lacroix, following M. de Lincy’s example, went to the +MSS. for his text, which he annotated with care and erudition. All his +notes of any importance are reproduced in the present translation. The +edition of 1858 was reprinted in 1875. + +XXV. _L’Heptaméron, &c_. Gamier frères, Paris, n.d., 1 vol. 18mo. +This was long the “popular” edition in France. The text, which is +considerably modernised, is of no value. + +XXVI. _Les sept Journées de la Reine de Navarre, suivies de la +huitième_. Paris, Librairie des Bibliophiles (Jouaust), 1872, 4 vols. +l6mo. + +In this edition Gruget’s text is followed; the notes, &c, are by M. +Lacroix. The work is prized for its illustrations (a portrait and eight +etchings) by Leopold Flameng. It was originally issued in eight parts. +The value of the copies varies according to the paper on which they are +printed. Those on India or Whatman paper, with a duplicate set of the +engravings, command high prices. The text has been reissued by the same +firm in two cr. 8vo vols, under the title of _L’Heptaméron des contes, +etc_. + +XXVII. _L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles, &c_, preface, notes, &c, by Benjamin +Pifteau, in the _Nouvelle Collection Jannet_, Alphonse Lemerre, Paris, +1875, 2 vols. l6mo. + +This, undoubtedly the best of all the cheap editions, has been reprinted +by Marpon & Flammarion, Paris, n.d. The text is from the MSS.; the +notes are mainly abbreviated from those of MM. de Lincy and Lacroix. M. +Pifteau supplies an introduction and glossary. + +XXVIII. _L’Heptaméron, &c., publié avec Introduction, Notes et Glossaire +par Félix Frank_. Liseux, Paris, 1879, 3 vols. 12mo. + +This, from the literary point of view, is one of the most important of +modern editions. The text is not taken from the same MS. as was followed +by M. de Lincy. The tales are preceded by a lengthy introduction, in +which the editor discusses Queen Margaret’s work and seeks to identify +the supposed narrators of her tales. He has frequently been quoted in +the notes to this translation. + +XXIX. _L’Heptaméron, &c, avec notes, variantes et glossaire par F. +Dillaye et notice par A. France_. A. Lemerre, Paris, 1879. + +A handy edition based on the MSS. The notes embody the substance of +M. de Lincy’s and M. Lacroix’s researches with additional particulars +supplied by M. Dillaye, who has been quoted in the course of the present +work. + +XXX. _L’Heptaméron, &c., publié stir les manuscrits avec les notes de +MM. Le Poux de Lincy et Anatole de Montaiglon_. Auguste Eudes, Paris, +1880, 8 vols. 1. 8vo and 4 vols. cr. 8vo. + +The edition in 8 vols, (two copies of which on parchment were issued at +£44 each; and twelve on Japanese paper at £20 each) is illustrated with +the Freudenberg plates; that in 4 vols, contains the text only. The text +is the same as that of No. XXIII.; but with additional notes, prefatory +matter, &c. The copyright attaching to this edition was acquired for +the present work, in which all M. de Montaiglon’s important notes are +reproduced. + + +Among the English translations of the _Heptameron_ are the following:-- + +_Heptameron_, or the _History of the Fortunate Lovers_, translated by +R. Codrington, London, 1654, 12mo. (Dedicated to Thomas Stanley, the +translator of Anacreon and editor of Æschylus, and based on Boaistuau’s +defective text.) + +The _Heptameron of Margaret, Queen of Navarre, nota first translated +from the original text, by Walter K. Kelly_. Bohn (extra volume), +London, 1855. This has been several times reprinted. The translation +is a very free rendering of M. de Lincy’s text; many passages are +deficient. + +The _Heptameron, &c., translated from the original French by Arthur +Machen_. Privately printed (G. Redway), London, 1886, 1 vol. 1. 8vo. A +scholarly translation, not annotated; illustrated with the etchings by +Flameng (see _ante_, edition xxv.). + +_The Fortunate Lovers, twenty-seven novels of the Queen of Navarre, +translated by Arthur Machen, edited with notes and introduction by A. +Mary F. Robinson_. G. Redway, London, 1887, 8vo. Etched frontispiece +by G. P. Jacomb Hood. This only contains such of the tales as the +lady-editor considered unobjectionable. In her introduction she sketches +the life of Queen Margaret and discusses the identity of the supposed +narrators of the tales. Some of the notes are original, but the majority +are based upon the researches of French commentators.--Ed. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. V. +(of V.), by Margaret, Queen Of Navarre + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALES OF THE HEPTAMERON *** + +***** This file should be named 17705-0.txt or 17705-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17705/ + +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. 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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. diff --git a/17705-0.zip b/17705-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e5b0573 --- /dev/null +++ b/17705-0.zip diff --git a/17705-8.txt b/17705-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c56fb36 --- /dev/null +++ b/17705-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6352 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. V. (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. V. (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 #17705] +Last Updated: September 9, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** 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 FIFTH + +LONDON: PRINTED FOR THE SOCIETY OF ENGLISH BIBLIOPHILISTS + +MDCCCXCIV + + +[Illustration: Frontispiece] + +[Margaret, Queen of Navarre, from a crayon drawing by Clouet, preserved +at the Bibliothque Nationale, Paris] + +[Illustration: Titlepage] + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME V. + +SIXTH DAY. + + + +Prologue + +Tale LI. Cruelty of the Duke of Urbino, who, contrary to the promise +he had given to the Duchess, hanged a poor lady that had consented to +convey letters to his sons sweetheart, the sister of the Abbot of Farse. + +Tale LII. Merry trick played by the varlet of an apothecary at Alenon +on the Lord de la Tirelire and the lawyer Anthony Bacher, who, +thinking to breakfast at his expense, find that they have stolen from +him something very different to a loaf of sugar. + +Tale LIII. Story of the Lady of Neufchtel, a widow at the Court of +Francis I., who, through not admitting that she has plighted her troth +to the Lord des Cheriots, plays him an evil trick through the means of +the Prince of Belhoste. + +Tale LIV. Merry adventure of a serving-woman and a gentleman named +Thogas, whereof his wife has no suspicion. + +Tale LV. The widow of a merchant of Saragossa, not wishing to lose the +value of a horse, the price of which her husband had ordered to be given +to the poor, devises the plan of selling the horse for one ducat only, +adding, however, to the bargain a cat at ninety-nine. + +Tale LVI. Notable deception practised by an old Grey Friar of Padua, +who, being charged by a widow to find a husband for her daughter, did, +for the sake of getting the dowry, cause her to marry a young Grey +Friar, his comrade, whose condition, however, was before long discovered. + +Tale LVII. Singular behaviour of an English lord, who is content merely +to keep and wear upon his doublet the glove of a lady whom he loves. + +Tale LVIII. A lady at the Court of Francis I., wishing to prove that +she has no commerce with a certain gentleman who loves her, gives him a +pretended tryst and causes him to pass for a thief. + +Tale LIX. Story of the same lady, who, learning that her husband is in +love with her waiting-woman, contrives to surprise him and impose her +own terms upon him. + +Tale LX. A man of Paris, thinking his wife to be well and duly deceased, +marries again, but at the end of fifteen years is forced to take his +first wife back, although she has been living meantime with one of the +chanters of Louis XII. + + +SEVENTH DAY. + +Prologue + +Tale LXI. Great kindness of a husband, who consents to take back his +wife twice over, spite of her wanton love for a Canon of Autun. + +Tale LXII. How a lady, while telling a story as of another, let her +tongue trip in such a way as to show that what she related had happened +to herself. + +Tale LXIII. How the honourable behaviour of a young lord, who feigns +sickness in order to be faithful to his wife, spoils a party in which he +was to have made one with the King, and in this way saves the honour of +three maidens of Paris. + +Tale LXIV. Story of a gentleman of Valencia in Spain, whom a lady drove +to such despair that he became a monk, and whom afterwards she strove in +vain to win back to herself. + +Tale LXV. Merry mistake of a worthy woman, who in the church of St. John +of Lyons mistakes a sleeping soldier for one of the statues on a tomb, +and sets a lighted candle on his forehead. + +Tale LXVI. How an old serving-woman, thinking to surprise a Prothonotary +with a lady, finds herself insulting Anthony de Bourbon and his wife +Jane dAlbret. + +Tale LXVII. How the Sire de Robertval, granting a traitor his life at +the prayers of the mans wife, set them both down on a desert island, +and how, after the husbands death, the wife was rescued and brought +back to La Rochelle. + +Tale LXVIII. The wife of an apothecary at Pau, hearing her husband give +some powder of cantharides to a woman who was godmother with himself, +secretly administered to him such a dose of the same drug that he nearly +died. + +Tale LXIX. How the wife of one of the Kings Equerries surprised her +husband muffled in the hood of their servant-maid, and bolting meal in +her stead. + +Tale LXX. Of the love of a Duchess of Burgundy for a gentleman who +rejects her advances, for which reason she accuses him to the Duke her +husband, and the latter does not believe his oaths till assured by +him that he loves the Lady du Vergier. Then the Duchess, having drawn +knowledge of this amour from her husband, addresses to the Lady du +Vergier in public, an allusion that causes the death of both lovers; and +the Duke, in despair at his own lack of discretion, stabs the Duchess +himself. + + +EIGHTH DAY. + +Prologue + +Tale LXXI. The wife of a saddler of Amboise is saved on her deathbed +through a fit of anger at seeing her husband fondle a servant-maid. + +Tale LXXII. Kindness of the Duchess of Alenon to a poor nun whom she +meets at Lyons, on her way to Rome, there to confess to the Pope how a +monk had wronged her, and to obtain his Holinesss pardon. + +Appendix (The Narrators of the Heptameron) + +Bibliography + + + + +PAGE ENGRAVINGS CONTAINED IN VOLUME V. + + +Tale LI. The Duke of Urbino sending the Maiden to Prison for carrying +Messages between his Son and his Sweetheart. + +LII. The Gentleman and his Friend annoyed by The Smell of that which +they Thought was Sugar. + +LIII. The Lord des Cheriots flying from the Princes Servant. + +LIV. The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing. + +LV. The Servant selling the Horse with the Cat. + +LVI. The Grey Friar introducing his Comrade to the Lady and her +Daughter. + +LVII. The English Lord seizing the Ladys Glove. + +LVIII. The Gentleman Mocked by the Ladies When Returning From The False +Tryst. + +LIX. The Lady discovering her Husband with the Waiting-woman. + +LX. The Chanter of Blois delivering his Mistress from the Grave. + +LXI. The Lady returning to her Lover, the Canon of Autun. + +LXII. The Gentlemans Spur catching in the Sheet. + +LXIII. The King asking the Young Lord to join his Banquet. + +LXIV. The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of Valencia who had +become a Monk. + +LXV. The Old Woman startled by the Waking of the Soldier. + +LXVI. The Old Serving-woman explaining her Mistake to the Duke and +Duchess of Vendme. + +LXVII. The Wife Reading to her Husband on the Desert Island. + +LXVIII. The Apothecarys Wife giving the Dose of Cantharides to her +Husband. + +LXIX. The Wife discovering her Husband in the Hood of their +Serving-maid. + +LXX. The Gentleman Killing Himself on the Death of his Mistress. + +LXXI. The Saddlers Wife Cured by the sight of her Husband Caressing the +Serving-maid. + +LXXII. The Monk Conversing with the Nun while Shrouding a Dead Body. + + + + +SIXTH DAY. + +_On the Sixth Day are related the deceits practised +by Man on Woman, Woman on Man, or +Woman on Woman, through +greed, revenge, and +wickedness_. + + + + +PROLOGUE. + +In the morning the Lady Oisille went earlier than was her wont to make +ready for her reading in the hall, but the company being advised of +this, and eager to hearken to her excellent instruction, used such +despatch in dressing themselves that she had not long to wait. +Perceiving their fervour, she set about reading them the Epistle of St. +John the Evangelist, which is full of naught but love, in the same wise +as, on the foregoing days, she had expounded to them St. Pauls Epistle +to the Romans. The company found this fare so much to their taste, that, +although they tarried a half-hour longer than on the other days, it +seemed to them as if they had not remained there a quarter of an hour +altogether. From thence they proceeded to the contemplation of the mass, +when one and all commended themselves to the Holy Ghost in order that +they might that day be enabled to satisfy their merry audience; and, +after they had broken their fast and taken a little rest, they set out +to resume their accustomed diversion. + +And the Lady Oisille asking who should begin the day, Longarine made +answer-- + +I give my vote to Madame Oisille; she has this day read to us so +beauteous a lesson, that she can but tell us some story apt to crown the +glory which she won this morning. + +I am sorry, said Oisille, that I cannot tell you aught so profitable +this afternoon as I did in the morning. But at least the purport of my +story shall not depart from the teaching of Holy Scripture, where it is +written, Trust not in princes, nor in the sons of men, in whom is not +our salvation. (1) And that this truth may not be forgotten by you for +lack of an example, I will tell you a tale which is quite true, and the +memory of which is so fresh that the eyes of those that saw the piteous +sight are scarcely yet dried. + +[Illustration: 005a.jpg The Duke of Urbino sending the Maiden to Prison for carrying +Messages between his Son and his Sweetheart] + +[The Duke of Urbino sending the Maiden to Prison for carrying +Messages between his Son and his Sweetheart] + +[Illustration: 005.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LI_. + + _Because he would not have his son make a poor marriage, the + Duke of Urbino, contrary to the promise given to his wife, + hanged a young maiden by whom his son was wont to inform his + sweetheart of the love he bore her_. + +The Duke of Urbino, called the Prefect, (1) the same that married the +sister of the first Duke of Mantua, had a son of between eighteen and +twenty years of age, who was in love with a girl of an excellent and +honourable house, sister to the Abbot of Farse. (2) And since, according +to the custom of the country, he was not free to converse with her as +he wished, he obtained the aid of a gentleman in his service, who was in +love with a very beautiful and virtuous young damsel in the service of +his mother. By means of this damsel he informed his sweetheart of the +deep affection that he bore her; and the poor girl, thinking no harm, +took pleasure in doing him service, believing his purpose to be so good +and virtuous that she might honourably be the carrier of his intentions. +But the Duke, who had more regard for the profit of his house than +for any virtuous affection, was in such great fear lest these dealings +should lead his son (3) into marriage, that he caused a strict watch +to be kept; whereupon he was informed that the poor damsel had been +concerned in carrying some letters from his son to the lady he loved. On +hearing this he was in great wrath, and resolved to take the matter in +hand. + + 1 This is Francesco Maria I., della Rovere, nephew to Pope + Julius II., by whom he was created Prefect of Rome. Brought + up at the French Court, he became one of the great captains + of the period, especially distinguishing himself in the + command of the Venetian forces during the earlier part of + his career. He married Leonora Ypolita Gonzaga, daughter of + Francesco II., fourth Marquis of Mantua, respecting whom see + _ante_, vol. iii., notes to Tale XIX. It was Leonora rather + than her husband who imparted lustre to the Court of Urbino + at this period by encouraging arts and letters. Among those + who flourished there were Raffaelle and Baldassare + Castiglione. Francesco Maria, born in March 1491, died in + 1538 from the effects--so it is asserted by several + contemporary writers--of a poisonous lotion which a Mantuan + barber had dropped into his ear. His wife, who bore him two + sons (see post, note 3), died at the age of 72, in 1570.--L. + and Ed. + + 2 The French words are _Abb de Farse_. Farse would appear + to be a locality, as abbots were then usually designated by + the names of their monasteries; still it may be intended for + the Abbots surname, and some commentators, adopting this + view, have suggested that the proper reading would be + Farnese.--Ed. + + 3 The Dukes two sons were Federigo, born in March 1511, + and Guidobaldo, born in April 1514. The former according to + all authorities died when young, and probably long before + reaching mans estate. Dennistoun, in his searching _Memoirs + of the Dukes of Urbino_ (London, 1851), clearly shows that + for many years prior to Francesco Marias death his second + son Guidobaldo was the only child remaining to him. Already + in 1534, when but twenty years old, Guidobaldo was regarded + as his fathers sole heir and successor. In that year + Francesco Maria forced the young man to marry Giulia Varana, + a child of eleven, in order that he might lay claim to her + fathers state of Camerino and annex it to the duchy. There + is no record of Guidobaldo having ever engaged in any such + intrigue as related by Queen Margaret in the above tale, + still it must be to him that she refers, everything pointing + to the conclusion that his brother Federigo died in + childhood. Guidobaldo became Duke of Urbino on his fathers + death.--Ed. + +He could not, however, conceal his anger so well that the maiden was +not advised of it, and knowing his wickedness, which was in her eyes +as great as his conscience was small, she felt a wondrous dread. Going +therefore to the Duchess, she craved leave to retire somewhere out of +the Dukes sight until his passion should be past; but her mistress +replied that, before giving her leave to do so, she would try to find +out her husbands will in the matter. + +Very soon, however, the Duchess heard the Dukes evil words concerning +the affair, and, knowing his temper, she not only gave the maiden leave, +but advised her to retire into a convent until the storm was over. This +she did as secretly as she could, yet not so stealthily but that the +Duke was advised of it. Thereupon, with pretended cheerfulness of +countenance, he asked his wife where the maiden was, and she, believing +him to be well aware of the truth, confessed it to him. He feigned to +be vexed thereat, saying that the girl had no need to behave in that +fashion, and that for his part he desired her no harm. And he requested +his wife to cause her to come back again, since it was by no means well +to have such matters noised abroad. + +The Duchess replied that, if the poor girl was so unfortunate as to have +lost his favour, it were better for a time that she should not come +into his presence; however, he would not hearken to her reasonings, but +commanded her to bid the maiden return. + +The Duchess failed not to make the Dukes will known to the maiden; but +the latter, who could not but feel afraid, entreated her mistress that +she might not be compelled to run this risk, saying that she knew the +Duke was not so ready to forgive her as he feigned to be. Nevertheless, +the Duchess assured her that she should take no hurt, and pledged her +own life and honour for her safety. + +The girl, who well knew that her mistress loved her, and would not +lightly deceive her, trusted in her promise, believing that the Duke +would never break a pledge when his wifes honour was its warranty. And +accordingly she returned to the Duchess. + +As soon as the Duke knew this, he failed not to repair to his wifes +apartment. There, as soon as he saw the maiden, he said to his wife, +So such-a-one has returned, and turning to his gentlemen, he commanded +them to arrest her and lead her to prison. + +At this the poor Duchess, who by the pledging of her word had drawn the +maiden from her refuge, was in such despair that, falling upon her knees +before her husband, she prayed that for love of herself and of his +house he would not do so foul a deed, seeing that it was in obedience to +himself that she had drawn the maiden from her place of safety. + +But no prayer that she could utter availed to soften his hard heart, or +to overcome his stern resolve to be avenged. Without making any reply, +he withdrew as speedily as possible, and, foregoing all manner of trial, +and forgetting God and the honour of his house, he cruelly caused the +hapless maiden to be hanged. + +I cannot undertake to recount to you the grief of the Duchess; it was +such as beseemed a lady of honour and a tender heart on beholding one, +whom she would fain have saved, perish through trust in her own plighted +faith. Still less is it possible to describe the deep affliction of the +unhappy gentleman, the maidens lover, who failed not to do all that +in him lay to save his sweethearts life, offering to give his own for +hers; but no feeling of pity moved the heart of this Duke, whose only +happiness was that of avenging himself on those whom he hated. (4) + + 4 That Francesco-Maria was a man of a hasty, violent + temperament is certain. Much that Guicciardini relates of + him was doubtless penned in a spirit of resentment, for + during the time the historian lived at Urbino the Duke + repeatedly struck him, and on one occasion felled him to the + ground, with the sneering remark, Your business is to + confer with pedants. On the other hand, however, there is + independent documentary evidence in existence--notably + among the Urbino MSS. in the Vatican library--which shows + that Francesco-Maria in no wise recoiled from shedding + blood. He was yet in his teens when it was reported to him + that his sister--the widow of Venanzio of Camerino, killed + by Caesar Borgia--had secretly married a certain Giovanni + Andrea of Verona and borne him a son. Watching his + opportunity, Francesco-Maria set upon the unfortunate Andrea + one day in the ducal chamber and then and there killed him, + though not without resistance, for Andrea only succumbed + after receiving _four-and-twenty_ stabs with his murderers + poignard (Urbino MSS. Vat. No. 904). A few years later, in + 1511, Francesco-Maria assassinated the Papal Legate + Alidosio, Cardinal Archbishop of Pavia, whom he encountered + in the environs of Bologna riding his mule and followed by a + hundred light horse. Nevertheless Urbino, with only a small + retinue, galloped up to him, plunged a dagger into his + stomach and fled before the soldiery could intervene. From + these examples it will be seen that, although history has + preserved no record of the affair related by Queen Margaret, + her narrative may well be a true one.--Ed. + +Thus, in spite of every law of honour, was the innocent maiden put to +death by this cruel Duke, to the exceeding sorrow of all that knew her. + +See, ladies, what are the effects of wickedness when this is combined +with power. + +I had indeed heard, said Longarine, that the Italians were prone to +three especial vices; but I should not have thought that vengeance and +cruelty would have gone so far as to deal a cruel death for so slight a +cause. + +Longarine, said Saffredent, laughing, you have told us one of the +three vices, but we must also know the other two. + +If you did not know them, she replied, I would inform you, but I am +sure that you know them all. + +From your words, said Saffredent, it seems that you deem me very +vicious. + +Not so, said Longarine, but you so well know the ugliness of vice +that, better than any other, you are able to avoid it. + +Do not be amazed, said Simontault, at this act of cruelty. Those who +have passed through Italy have seen such incredible instances, that this +one is in comparison but a trifling peccadillo. + +Ay, truly, said Geburon. When Rivolta was taken by the French, (5) +there was an Italian captain who was esteemed a knightly comrade, but +on seeing the dead body of a man who was only his enemy in that being a +Guelph he was opposed to the Ghibellines, he tore out his heart, broiled +it on the coals and devoured it. And when some asked him how he liked +it, he replied that he had never eaten so savoury or dainty a morsel. +Not content with this fine deed, he killed the dead mans wife, and +tearing out the fruit of her womb, dashed it against a wall. Then he +filled the bodies both of husband and wife with oats and made his horses +eat from them. Think you that such a man as that would not surely have +put to death a girl whom he suspected of offending him? + + 5 Rivolta or Rivoli was captured by the French under Louis + XII. in 1509. An instance of savagery identical in character + with that mentioned by Geburon had already occurred at the + time of Charles VIII.s expedition to Naples, when the + culprit, a young Italian of good birth, was seized and + publicly executed.--Ed. + +It must be acknowledged, said Ennasuite, that this Duke of Urbino +was more afraid that his son might make a poor marriage than desirous of +giving him a wife to his liking. + +I think you can have no doubt, replied Simon-tault, that it is the +Italian nature to love unnaturally that which has been created only for +natures service. + +Worse than that, said Hircan, they make a god of things that are +contrary to nature. + +And there, said Longarine, you have another one of the sins that +I meant; for we know that to love money, excepting so far as it be +necessary, is idolatry. + +Parlamente then said that St. Paul had not forgotten the vices of the +Italians, and of all those who believe that they exceed and surpass +others in honour, prudence and human reason, and who trust so strongly +to this last as to withhold from God the glory that is His due. +Wherefore the Almighty, jealous of His honour, renders those who +believe themselves possessed of more understanding than other men, +more insensate even than wild the beasts, causing them to show by their +unnatural deeds that their sense is reprobate. + +Longarine here interrupted Parlamente to say that this was indeed the +third sin to which the Italians were prone. + +By my faith, said Nomerfide, this discourse is very pleasing to +me, for, since those that possess the best trained and acutest +understandings are punished by being made more witless even than wild +beasts, it must follow that such as are humble, and low, and of little +reach, like myself, are filled with the wisdom of angels. + +I protest to you, said Oisille, that I am not far from your opinion, +for none is more ignorant than he who thinks he knows. + +I have never seen a mocker, said Geburon, that was not mocked, a +deceiver that was not deceived, or a boaster that was not humbled. + +You remind me, said Simontault, of a deceit which, had it been of a +seemly sort, I would willingly have related. + +Well, said Oisille, since we are here to utter truth, I give you my +vote that you may tell it to us whatsoever its nature may be. + +Since you give place to me, said Simontault, I will tell it you. + + +[Illustration: 014.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 015a.jpg The Gentleman and his Friend annoyed by The Smell of that which they Thought was Sugar] + +[The Gentleman and his Friend annoyed by The Smell of that which they Thought was Sugar] + +[Illustration: 015.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LII_. + + _An apothecary s man, espying behind him an advocate who was + to plague him, and on whom he desired to be revenged, + dropped from his sleeve a lump of frozen ordure, wrapped in + paper like a sugar-loaf, which a gentleman who was with the + advocate picked up and hid in his bosom, and then went to + breakfast at a tavern, whence he came forth with all the + cost and shame that he had thought to bring upon the poor + varlet_. + +Near the town of Alenon there lived a gentleman called the Lord of La +Tireliere, who one morning came from his house to the town afoot, both +because the distance was not great and because it was freezing hard. (1) +When he had done his business, he sought out a crony of his, an advocate +named Anthony Bacher, and, after speaking with him of his affairs, he +told him that he should much like to meet with a good breakfast, but at +somebody elses expense. While thus discussing, they sat themselves down +in front of an apothecarys shop, where there was a varlet who listened +to them, and who forthwith resolved to give them their breakfast. + + 1 The phraseology of this story varies considerably in the + different MSS. of the _Heptameron_. In No. 1520, for + instance, the tale begins as follows: In the town of + Alenon, in the time of the last Duke Charles, there was an + advocate, a merry companion, fond of breakfasting o + mornings. One day, whilst he sat at his door, he saw pass a + gentleman called the Lord of La Tilleriere, who, by reason + of the extreme cold, had come on foot from his house to the + town in order to attend to certain business there, and in + doing so had not forgotten to put on his great robe, lined + with fox-skin. And when he saw the advocate, who was much + such a man as himself, he told him that he had completed his + business, and had nothing further to do, except it were to + find a good breakfast. The advocate made answer that they + could find breakfasts enough and to spare, provided they had + some one to defray the cost, and, taking the other under the + arm, he said to him, Come, gossip, we may perhaps find some + fool who will pay the reckoning for us both. Now behind + them was an apothecarys man, an artful and inventive + fellow, whom this advocate was always plaguing, &c.--L. + +He went out from his shop into a street whither all repaired on needful +occasions, (2) and there found a large lump of ordure standing on end, +and so well frozen that it looked like a small loaf of fine sugar. +Forthwith he wrapped it in handsome white paper, in the manner he was +wont to use for the attraction of customers, and hid it in his sleeve. + + 2 In olden time, as shown in the _Mmoires de lAcadmie de + Troyes_, there were in most French towns streets specially + set aside for the purpose referred to. At Alenon, in Queen + Margarets time, there was a street called the Rue des + Fumiers, as appears from a report dated March 8, 1564 + (Archives of the Orne, Series A). Probably it is to this + street that she alludes. (Communicated by M. L. Duval, + archivist of the department of the Orne).--M. + +Afterwards he came and passed in front of the gentleman and the +advocate, and, letting the sugar-loaf (3) fall near them, as if by +mischance, went into a house whither he had pretended to be carrying it. + +The Lord of La Tirelire (4) hastened back with all speed to pick up +what he thought to be a sugar-loaf, and just as he had done so the +apothecarys man also came back looking and asking for his sugar +everywhere. + + 3 M. Duval, archivist of the Orne, states that La + Tirelire, which is situated near St. Germain-du-Corbois, + within three miles of Alenon, is an old _gentilhommire_ or + manor-house, surrounded by a moat. It was originally a + simple _vavassonrie_ held in fief from the Counts and Dukes + of Alenon by the Pantolf and Crouches families, and in the + seventeenth century was merged into the marquisate of + LIsle.--M. + + 4 Sugar was at this period sold by apothecaries, and was a + rare and costly luxury. There were loaves of various sizes, + but none so large as those of the present time.--M. + +The gentleman, thinking that he had cleverly tricked him, then went in +haste to a tavern with his crony, to whom he said-- + +Our breakfast has been paid for at the cost of that varlet. + +When he was come to the tavern he called for good bread, good wine and +good meat, for he thought that he had wherewith to pay. But whilst he +was eating, as he began to grow warm, his sugar-loaf in its turn began +to thaw and melt, and filled the whole room with the smell peculiar +to it, whereupon he, who carried it in his bosom, grew wroth with the +waiting-woman, and said to her-- + +You are the filthiest folks that ever I knew in this town, for either +you or your children have strewn all this room with filth. + +By St. Peter! replied the woman, there is no filth here unless you +have brought it in yourselves. + +Thereupon they rose, by reason of the great stench that they smelt, +and went up to the fire, where the gentleman drew out of his bosom a +handkerchief all dyed with the melted sugar, and on opening his robe, +lined with fox-skin, found it to be quite spoiled. + +And all that he was able to say to his crony was this-- + +The rogue whom we thought to deceive has deceived us instead. + +Then they paid their reckoning and went away as vexed as they had +been merry on their arrival, when they fancied they had tricked the +apothecarys varlet. (5) + + 5 In MS. 1520, this tale ends in the following manner:-- + They were no sooner in the street than they perceived the + apothecarys man going about and making inquiry of every one + whether they had not seen a loaf of sugar wrapped in paper. + They [the advocate and his companion] sought to avoid him, + but he called aloud to the advocate, If you have my loaf of + sugar, sir, I beg that you will give it back to me, for tis + a double sin to rob a poor servant. His shouts brought to + the spot many people curious to witness the dispute, and the + true circumstances of the case were so well proven, that the + apothecarys man was as glad to have been robbed as the + others were vexed at having committed such a nasty theft. + However, they comforted themselves with the hope that they + might some day give him tit for tat.--Ed. + +Often, ladies, do we see the like befall those who delight in using +such cunning. If the gentleman had not sought to eat at anothers +expense, he would not have drunk so vile a beverage at his own. It is +true, ladies, that my story is not a very clean one, but you gave me +license to speak the truth, and I have done so in order to show you that +no one is sorry when a deceiver is deceived. + +It is commonly said, replied Hircan, that words have no stink, yet +those for whom they are intended do not easily escape smelling them. + +It is true, said Oisille, that such words do not stink, but there are +others which are spoken of as nasty, and which are of such evil odour +that they disgust the soul even more than the body is disgusted when it +smells such a sugar-loaf as you described in the tale. + +I pray you, said Hircan, tell me what words you know of so foul as to +sicken both the heart and soul of a virtuous woman. + +It would indeed be seemly, replied Oisille, that I should tell you +words which I counsel no woman to utter. + +By that, said Saffredent, I quite understand what those terms are. +They are such as women desirous of being held discreet do not commonly +employ. But I would ask all the ladies present why, when they dare not +utter them, they are so ready to laugh at them when they are used in +their presence. + +Then said Parlamente-- + +We do not laugh because we hear such pretty expressions, though it +is indeed true that every one is disposed to laugh on seeing anybody +stumble or on hearing any one utter an unfitting word, as often happens. +The tongue will trip and cause one word to be used for another, even +by the discreetest and most excellent speakers. But when you men talk +viciously, not from ignorance, but by reason of your own wickedness, +I know of no virtuous woman who does not feel a loathing for such +speakers, and who would not merely refuse to hearken to them, but even +to remain in their company. + +That is very true, responded Geburon. I have frequently seen women +make the sign of the cross on hearing certain words spoken, and cease +not in doing so after these words had been uttered a second time. + +But how many times, said Simontault, have they put on their masks (6) +in order to laugh as freely as they pretended to be angry? + +Yet it were better to do this, said Parlamente, than to let it be +seen that the talk pleased them. + +Then, said Dagoucin, you praise a ladys hypocrisy no less than her +virtue? + +Virtue would be far better, said Longarine, but, when it is lacking, +recourse must be had to hypocrisy, just as we use our slippers (7) to +disguise our littleness. And it is no small matter to be able to conceal +our imperfections. + + 8 _Tourets-de-nez_. _See ante_, vol. iii. p. 27, note 5.--Ed. + + 7 High-heeled slippers or _mules_ were then worn.--B. J. + +By my word, said Hircan, it were better sometimes to show some slight +imperfection than to cover it so closely with the cloak of virtue. + +It is true, said Ennasuitc, that a borrowed garment brings the +borrower as much dishonour when he is constrained to return it as it +brought him honour whilst it was being worn, and there is a lady now +living who, by being too eager to conceal a small error, fell into a +greater. + +I think, said Hircan, that I know whom you mean; in any case, +however, do not pronounce her name. + +Ho! ho! said Geburon [to Ennasuite], I give you my vote on condition +that when you have related the story you will tell us the names. We will +swear never to mention them. + +I promise it, said Knnasuite, for there is nothing that may not be +told in all honour. + + +[Illustration: 022.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 023a.jpg The Lord des Cheriots flying from the Princes Servant] + +[The Lord des Cheriots flying from the Princes Servant] + +[Illustration: 023.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LIII_. + + _By her dissimulation the Lady of Neufchastel caused the + Prince of Belhoste to put her to such proof that it turned + to her dishonour_. + +King Francis the First was once at a handsome and pleasant castle, +whither he had gone with a small following, both for the purpose of +hunting and in order to take some repose. With him in his train was a +certain Prince of Belhoste, (1) as worshipful, virtuous, discreet and +handsome a Prince as any at Court. The wife he had married did not +belong to a family of high rank, yet he loved her as dearly and treated +her as well as it were possible for a husband to do, and also trusted +in her. And when he was in love with anybody he never concealed it from +her, knowing that she had no other will than his own. + + 1 The Bibliophile Jacob surmises that this personage may be + one of the Italian grandees at that period in the service of + France, in which case the allusion may be to John + Caraccioli, Prince of Melphes, created a marshal of France + in 1544. Queen Margaret, however, makes no mention of her + Prince being a foreigner. Belhoste is of course a + fictitious name invented to replace that which the Prince + really bore, and admits of so many interpretations that its + meaning in the present instance cannot well be determined. + From the circumstance, however, that the Princes wife was + of inferior birth to himself, it is not impossible that the + personage referred to may be either Charles de Bourbon, + Prince of La Roche-sur-Yonne and Duke of Beauprau, or John + VIII., Lord of Crqui, Canaples and Pontdormi, and Prince of + Poix. The former, who married Philippa de Montespedon, widow + of Ren de Montjan, and a lady of honour to Catherine de + Medici when Dauphiness, took a prominent part in the last + wars of Francis I.s reign, and survived till 1565. The + latter, generally known at Court by the name of Canaples, + was a gentleman of the chamber and an especial favourite of + Francis I. Brantme says of him in his _Homines Illustres_ + that he was a valiant lord and the strongest man of arms + that in those days existed in all Christendom, for he broke + a lance, no matter its strength, as easily as though it were + a mere switch, and few were able to withstand him. In 1525 + the Prince of Poix married a Demoiselle dAcign or Assigny, + of _petite noblesse_, who in 1532 became a lady of honour to + Queen Eleanor. She died in 1558, surviving her husband by + three years. See Rouards rare _Notice dun Recueil de + Crayons la Bibliothque Mjanes dAix_, Paris, 1863.--Ed. + +Now this Prince conceived a deep affection for a widow lady called +Madame de Neufchastel, (2) who was reputed the most beautiful woman it +were possible to see; and if the Prince of Bel-hoste loved her well, his +wife loved her no less, and would often send and bid her to dinner, +for she deemed her so discreet and honourable, that, instead of being +grieved by her husbands love for her, she rejoiced to see him address +his attentions to one so full of honour and virtue. + + 2 M. Lacroix thinks that this lady may be Jane de Hochberg, + only daughter of Philip, sovereign Count of Neufchtel. + According to the custom of the time, she was commonly called + Madame de Neufchtel, despite her marriage with Louis + dOrlans, Duke of Longueville. She died in 1543, after a + lengthy widowhood. We consider the accuracy of M. Lacroixs + surmise to be extremely doubtful, for the names of both the + men figuring in the story are obviously altered so as to + conceal their identity, and it is therefore not likely that + Queen Margaret would designate the lady by her real name, + and thus publish her shame to the world. The Madame de + Neufchtel she speaks of may really have been a Madame de + Chteauneuf, Chteauvieux or Maisonneuve; or we may again be + in presence of Margarets lady of honour, the widowed + Blanche de Chastillon, _ne_ de Tournon, to whom frequent + reference has been made.--Ed. + +This affection lasted for a great while, the Prince of Belhoste caring +for all the ladys affairs as though they were his own, and his wife +doing no less. By reason, however, of her beauty many great lords and +gentlemen earnestly sought the ladys favour, some only for loves sake, +others for sake of the ring, for, besides being beautiful, she was also +very rich. + +Among the rest was a young gentleman, called the Lord des Cheriots, (3) +who wooed her so ardently that he was never absent from her levee and +couche, and was also with her as much as possible during the day. This +did not please the Prince of Belhoste, who thought that a man of such +poor estate, and so lacking in grace, did not deserve an honourable +and gracious reception, and he often made remonstrances about it to the +lady. She, however, being one of Eves daughters, (4) excused herself +by saying that she spoke with every one in general, and that their own +affection was the better concealed, since she never spoke more with one +than with another. + + 3 Des Cheriots (occasionally Des Cheriotz in the MS.) may + be a play upon the name of DEscars, sometimes written Des + Cars. According to La Curne de Ste. Palaye _car_ as well as + _char_ signified chariot. The DEscars dukedom is modern, + dating from 1815, and in the time of Francis I. the family + was of small estate. Some members of it may well have filled + inferior offices about the court, as in 1536 a Demoiselle + Suzanne dEscars married Geoffrey de Pompadour, who was both + a prothonotary and cupbearer to Francis I., and lived to + become Governor of the Limousin under Charles IX.--M. and + Ed. + + 4 We take this expression from MS. 1520. Ours says, a + daughter of the Duke, which is evidently an error.--L. + +Albeit, after some time, this Lord des Cheriots so pressed her that, +more through his importunity than through love, she promised to marry +him, begging him, however, not to urge her to reveal the marriage until +her daughters were wedded. After this the gentleman was wont to go with +untroubled conscience to her chamber at whatsoever hour he chose, and +none but a waiting-woman and a serving-man had knowledge of the matter. + +When the Prince perceived that the gentleman was growing more and more +familiar in the house of her whom he so dearly loved, he took it in +ill-part, and could not refrain from saying to the lady-- + +I have always prized your honour like that of my own sister, and you +are aware of the honourable manner in which I have addressed you, and +the happiness that I have in loving a lady as discreet and virtuous as +yourself; but did I think that another who deserves it not could win by +importunity that which I am not willing to crave, contrary to your +own desire, this would be unendurable to me, and in the like degree +dishonouring to you. I tell you this because you are beautiful and +young, and although hitherto of good repute, are now beginning to gain +a very evil fame. Even though he be not your equal in birth or fortune, +and have less influence, knowledge and address, yet it were better to +have married him than to give all men matter for suspicion. I pray you, +therefore, tell me whether you are resolved to love him, for I will not +have him as fellow of mine. I would rather leave you altogether to him, +and put away from me the feelings that I have hitherto borne you. + +The poor lady, fearful of losing his affection, thereupon began to weep, +and vowed to him that she would rather die than wed the gentleman of +whom he had spoken, but (she added) he was so importunate that she could +not help his entering her chamber at a time when every one else did so. + +Of such times as those, said the Prince, I do not speak, for I can go +as well as he, and see all what you are doing. But I have been told that +he goes after you are in bed, and this I look upon as so extraordinary +that, if you should continue in this mode of life without declaring him +to be your husband, you will be disgraced more than any woman that ever +lived. + +She swore to him with all the oaths she could utter that the other was +neither her husband nor her lover, but only as importunate a gentleman +as there well could be. + +Since he is troublesome to you, said the Prince, I promise you that I +will rid you of him. + +What! asked the lady. Would you kill him? + +No, no, said the Prince, but I will give him to understood that it +is not in such a place as this, not in such a house as the Kings, that +ladies are to be put to shame. And I swear to you by the faith of the +lover that I am, that if, after I have spoken with him, he does not +correct himself, I will correct him in such a manner as to make him a +warning to others. + +So saying he went away, and on leaving the room failed not to meet the +Lord des Cheriots on his way in. To him he spoke after the fashion that +you have heard, assuring him that the first time he was found there +after an hour at which gentlemen might reasonably visit the ladies, he +would give him such a fright as he would ever remember. And he added +that the lady was of too noble a house to be trifled with after such a +fashion. + +The gentleman protested that he had never been in the room except in the +same manner as the rest, and, if the Prince should find him there, he +gave him full leave to do his worst. + +One day afterwards, when the gentleman believed the Princes words +to have been forgotten, he went to see his lady in the evening, and +remained sufficiently late. + +The Prince [that same evening] told his wife that Madame de Neufchastel +had a severe cold, upon hearing which the worthy lady begged that he +would visit her on behalf of them both, and make excuse for herself, +since she could not go by reason of a certain matter that she must needs +attend to in her room. + +The Prince waited until the King was in bed, and then went to give +the lady good-evening, but as he was going up a stairway he met a +serving-man coming down, who, on being asked how his mistress did, swore +that she was in bed and asleep. + +The Prince went down the stairway, but, suspecting that the servant +had lied, looked behind and saw him going back again with all speed. +He walked about the courtyard in front of the door to see whether the +servant would return. A quarter of an hour later he perceived him come +down again and look all about to see who was in the courtyard. + +Forthwith the Prince was convinced that the Lord des Cheriots was in the +ladys chamber, but through fear of himself durst not come down, and he +therefore again walked about for a long-while. + +At last, observing that the ladys room had a casement which was not at +all high up, and which looked upon a little garden, he remembered the +proverb which says, When the door fails the window avails, and he +thereupon called a servant of his own, and said to him-- + +Go into the garden there behind, and, if you see a gentleman come down +from the window, draw your sword as soon as he reaches the ground, clash +it against the wall, and cry out, Slay! slay! Be careful, however, +that you do not touch him. + +The servant went whither his master had sent him, and the Prince walked +about until three hours after midnight. + +When the Lord des Cheriots heard that the Prince was still in the yard, +he resolved to descend by the window, and, having first thrown clown his +cloak, he then, by the help of his good friends, leapt into the garden. +As soon as the servant saw him, he failed not to make a noise with +his sword, at the same time crying, Slay! slay! Upon this the poor +gentleman, believing it was his [the servants] master, was in such +great fear that, without thinking of his cloak, he fled as quickly as he +was able. + +He met the archers of the watch, who wondered greatly to see him running +in this fashion, but he durst say nothing to them, except to beg them to +open him the gate [of the castle], or else to lodge him with themselves +until morning. And this, as they had not the keys, they did. + +Then the Prince went to bed, and, finding his wife asleep, awoke her +saying-- + +Guess, my wife, what hour it is. + +I have not heard the clock strike since I went to bed, she replied. + +It is three hours after midnight, said he. + +If that be so, said his wife, where have you been all this time? I +greatly fear that your health will be the worse for it. + +Sweetheart, said the Prince, watching will never make me ill when +I am engaged in preventing those who try to deceive me from going to +sleep. + +So saying, he began to laugh so heartily that his wife begged him to +tell her of the matter. This he did at length, showing her the wolfs +skin (4) which his servant had brought him. After making merry at +the expense of the hapless lovers, they went to sleep in gentle +tranquillity, while the other two passed the night in torment, fearing +and dreading lest the affair should be revealed. + +However, the gentleman, knowing right well that he could not use +concealment with the Prince, came to him in the morning when he was +dressing to beg that he would not expose him, and would give orders for +the return of his cloak. + +The Prince pretended that he knew nothing of the matter, and put such a +face on it that the gentleman was wholly at a loss what to think. But +in the end he received a rating that he had not expected, for the Prince +assured him that, if ever he went to the ladys room again, he would +tell the King of it, and have him banished the Court. + +I pray you, ladies, judge whether it had not been better for this poor +lady to have spoken freely to him who did her the honour of loving and +esteeming her, instead of leading him by her dissimulation to prove her +in a way that brought her so much shame. + +She knew, said Geburon, that if she confessed the truth she would +wholly lose his favour, and this she on no account desired to do. + +It seems to me, said Longarine, that when she had chosen a husband +to her liking, she ought not to have feared the loss of any other mans +affection. + +I am sure, said Parlamente, that if she had dared to reveal her +marriage, she would have been quite content with her husband; but she +wished to hide it until her daughters were wed, and so she would not +abandon so good a means of concealment. + +It was not for that reason, said Saffredent, but because the ambition +of women is so great that they are never satisfied with having only +one lover. I have heard that the discreetest of them are glad to have +three--one, namely, for honour, one for profit, and one for delight. +Each of the three thinks himself loved the best, but the first two are +as servants to the last. + +You speak, said Oisille, of such women as have neither love nor +honour. + +Madam, said Saffredent, there are some of the kind that I describe, +whom you reckon among the most honourable in the land. + +You may be sure, said Hircan, that a crafty woman will be able to +live where all others die of hunger. + +And, said Longarine, when their craftiness is discerned, tis death. + +Nay, tis life, said Simontault, for they deem it no small glory +to be reputed more crafty than their fellows. And the reputation of +crafty, gained thus at their own expense, brings lovers more readily +under subjection to them than does their beauty, for one of the greatest +delights shared by those who are in love is to conduct the affair +slyly. + +You speak, said Ennasuite, of wanton love, for the honourable has no +need of concealment. + +Ah! said Dagoucin, I pray you put that thought out of your head. +The more precious the drug, the less should it be exposed to the air, +because of the perverseness of those who trust only to outward signs. +These are not different in the case of honourable and faithful affection +than in any other case, so they must none the less be hidden when the +love is virtuous than when it is the opposite, if one would avoid the +evil opinion of those who cannot believe that a man may love a lady in +all honour, and who, being themselves slaves to pleasure, think every +one else the same. If we were all of good faith, look and speech would +be without concealment, at least toward those who would rather die than +take them in an evil sense. + +I protest to you, Dagoucin, said Hircan, that your philosophy is too +deep for any man here to understand or believe. You would have us think +that men are angels, or stones, or devils. + +I am well aware, said Dagoucin, that men are men and subject to every +passion, but there are some, nevertheless, who would rather die than +that their mistresses should, for their delight, do aught against their +consciences. + +To die means a great deal, said Geburon. I would not believe that of +them were it uttered by the lips of the austerest monk alive. + +Nay, I believe, said Hircan, that there is none but desires the very +opposite. But they make pretence of disliking the grapes when these hang +too high to be gathered. + +Still, said Nomcrfide, I am sure that the Princes wife was very glad +to find that her husband was learning to know women. + +I assure you it was not so, said Ennasuite. She was very sorry on +account of the love that she bore the lady. + +I would as soon, said Saffredent, have the lady who laughed when her +husband kissed her maid. + +In sooth, said Ennasuite, you shall tell us the story. I give place +to you. + +Although the story is very short, said Saffredent, I will still +relate it, for I would rather make you laugh than speak myself at +length. + + +[Illustration: 036.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 037a.jpg The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing] + +[The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing] + +[Illustration: 037.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LIV_. + + _Thogass wife, believing that her husband loved none but + herself, was pleased that her serving-woman should amuse + him, and laughed when in her presence he kissed the girl + before her eyes, and with her knowledge_. + +Between the Pyrenees Mountains and the Alps, there dwelt a gentleman +named Thogas, (1) who had a wife and children, with a very beautiful +house, and so much wealth and pleasure at his hand, that there was +reason he should live in contentment, had it not been that he was +subject to great pain beneath the roots of the hair, in such wise that +the doctors advised him to sleep no longer with his wife. She, whose +chief thought was for her husbands life and health, readily consented, +and caused her bed to be set in another corner of the room directly +opposite her husbands, so that they could neither of them put out their +heads without seeing each other. + + 1 We are unable to trace any family named Thogas, which is + probably a fictitious appellation. Read backwards with the + letter h omitted it forms Sagot, whilst if the syllables be + transposed it suggests Guasto, a well-known Basque or + Navarrese name.--Ed. + +This lady had two serving-women, and often when the lord and his lady +were in bed, they would each take some diverting book to read, whilst +the serving-women held candles, the younger, that is, for the gentleman, +and the other for his wife. + +The gentleman, finding that the maid was younger and handsomer than her +mistress, took such great pleasure in observing her that he would break +off his reading in order to converse with her. His wife could hear this +very plainly, but believing that her husband loved none but herself, she +was well pleased that her servants should amuse him. + +It happened one evening, however, when they had read longer than was +their wont, that the lady looked towards her husbands bed where was the +young serving-maid holding the candle. Of her she could see nothing but +her back, and of her husband nothing at all excepting on the side of +the chimney, which jutted out in front of his bed, and the white wall of +which was bright with the light from the candle. And upon this wall +she could plainly see the shadows both of her husband and of her maid; +whether they drew apart, or came near together or laughed, it was all as +clear to her as though she had veritably beheld them. + +The gentleman, using no precaution since he felt sure that his wife +could not see them, kissed her maid, and on the first occasion his wife +suffered this to pass without uttering a word. But when she saw that the +shadows frequently returned to this fellowship, she feared that there +might be some reality beneath it all, and burst into a loud laugh, +whereat the shadows were alarmed and separated. + +The gentleman then asked his wife why she was laughing so heartily, so +that he might have a share in her merriment. + +Husband, she replied, I am so foolish that I laugh at my own shadow. + +Inquire as he might, she would never acknowledge any other reason, but, +nevertheless, he thenceforward refrained from kissing such shadow-faces. + +That is the story of which I was reminded when I spoke of the lady who +loved her husbands sweetheart. + +By my faith, said Ennasuite, if my maid had treated me in that +fashion, I should have risen and extinguished the candle upon her nose. + +You are indeed terrible, said Hircan, but it had been well done +if your husband and the maid had both turned upon you and beaten you +soundly. There should not be so much ado for a kiss; and twould have +been better if his wife had said nothing about it, and had suffered him +to take his pastime, which might perchance have cured his complaint. + +Nay, said Parlamente, she was afraid that the end of the pastime +would make him worse. + +She was not one of those, said Oisille, against whom our Lord says, +We have mourned to you and ye have not lamented, we have sung to you +and ye have not danced, (2) for when her husband was ill, she wept, and +when he was merry, she laughed. In the same fashion every virtuous +woman ought to share the good and evil, the joy and the sadness of her +husband, and serve and obey him as the Church does Jesus Christ. + + 2 They are like unto children sitting in the market-place, + and calling one to another, and saying, We have piped unto + you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye + have not wept.--_St. Luke_ vii. 32.--M. + +Then, ladies, said Parlamente, our husbands should be to us what +Christ is to the Church. + +So are we, said Saffredent, and, if it were possible, something more; +for Christ died but once for His Church, whereas we die daily for our +wives. + +Die! said Longarine. Methinks that you and the others here present +are now worth more crowns than you were worth pence before you were +wed. + +And I know why, said Saffredent; it is because our worth is often +tried. Still our shoulders are sensible of having worn the cuirass so +long. + +If, said Ennasuite, you had been obliged to wear harness for a month +and lie on the hard ground, you would greatly long to regain the bed of +your excellent wife, and wear the cuirass of which you now complain. +But it is said that everything can be endured except ease, and that +none know what rest is until they have lost it. This foolish woman, who +laughed when her husband was merry, was fond of taking her rest under +any circumstances. + +I am sure, said Longarine, that she loved her rest better than her +husband, since she took nothing that he did to heart. + +She did take to heart, said Parlamente, those things which might have +been hurtful to his conscience and his health, but she would not dwell +upon trifles. + +When you speak of conscience, said Simontault you make me laugh. Tis +a thing to which I would have no woman give heed. + +It would be a good thing, said Nomerfide, if you had a wife like one +who, after her husbands death, proved that she loved her money better +than her conscience. + +I pray you, said Saffredent, tell us that tale. I give you my vote. + +I had not intended, said Nomcrfide, to relate so short a story, but, +since it is suited to the occasion, I will do so. + + +[Illustration: 042.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 043a.jpg The Servant selling the Horse with the Cat] + +[The Servant selling the Horse with the Cat] + +[Illustration: 043.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LV_. + + _A merchants widow, whilst carrying out her husbands will, + interpreted its purport to the advantage of herself and her + children_. (1) + +In the town of Safagossa there lived a rich merchant, who, finding his +death draw nigh, and himself no longer able to retain possession of his +goods---which he had perchance gathered together by evil means--thought +that if he made a little present to God, he might thus after his death +make part atonement for his sins, just as though God sold His pardon for +money. Accordingly, when he had settled matters in respect of his house, +he declared it to be his desire that a fine Spanish horse which he +possessed should be sold for as much as it would bring, and the money +obtained for it be distributed among the poor. And he begged his wife +that she would in no wise fail to sell the horse as soon as he was dead, +and distribute the money in the manner he had commanded. + + 1 Whether the incidents here related be true or not, it is + probable that this was a story told to Queen Margaret at the + time of her journey to Spain in 1525. It will have been + observed (_ante_, pp. 36 and 42) that both the previous tale + and this one are introduced into the _Heptameron_ in a semi- + apologetic fashion, as though the Queen had not originally + intended that her work should include such short, slight + anecdotes. However, already at this stage--the fifty-fifth + only of the hundred tales which she proposed writing--she + probably found fewer materials at her disposal than she had + anticipated, and harked back to incidents of her earlier + years, which she had at first thought too trifling to + record. Still, slight as this story may be, it is not + without point. The example set by the wife of the Saragossa + merchant has been followed in modern times in more ways than + one.--Ed. + +When the burial was over and the first tears were shed, the wife, who +was no more of a fool than Spanish women are used to be, went to the +servant who with herself had heard his master declare his desire, and +said to him-- + +Methinks I have lost enough in the person of a husband I loved so +dearly, without afterwards losing his possessions. Yet would I not +disobey his word, but rather better his intention; for the poor man, led +astray by the greed of the priests, thought to make a great sacrifice to +God in bestowing after his death a sum of money, not a crown of which, +as you well know, he would have given in his lifetime to relieve even +the sorest need. I have therefore bethought me that we will do what +he commanded at his death, and in still better fashion than he himself +would have done if had he lived a fortnight longer. But no living person +must know aught of the matter. + +When she had received the servants promise to keep it secret, she said +to him-- + +You will go and sell the horse, and when you are asked, How much? +you will reply, A ducat. I have, however, a very fine cat which I also +wish to dispose of, and you will sell it with the horse for ninety-nine +ducats, so that cat and horse together will bring in the hundred ducats +for which my husband wished to sell the horse alone. + +The servant readily fulfilled his mistresss command. While he was +walking the horse about the market-place, and holding the cat in his +arms, a gentleman, who had seen the horse before, and was desirous of +possessing it, asked the servant what price he sought. + +A ducat, replied the man. + +I pray you, said the gentleman, do not mock me. + +I assure you, sir, said the servant, that it will cost you only a +ducat. It is true that the cat must be bought at the same time, and for +the cat I must have nine and ninety ducats. + +Forthwith, the gentleman, thinking the bargain a reasonable one, paid +him one ducat for the horse, and the remainder as was desired of him, +and took his goods away. + +The servant, on his part, went off with the money, with which his +mistress was right well pleased, and she failed not to give the ducat +that the horse had brought to the poor Mendicants, (2) as her husband +had commanded, and the remainder she kept for the needs of herself and +her children. (3) + + 2 The allusion is not to the ordinary beggars who then, as + now, swarmed in Spain, but to the Mendicant friars.--Ed. + + 3 In Boaistuaus and Grugets editions of the _Heptameron_ + the dialogue following this tale is replaced by matter of + their own invention. They did not dare to reproduce Queen + Margarets bold opinions respecting the clergy, the monastic + orders, &c., at a time when scores of people, including even + Counsellors of Parliament, were being burnt at the stake for + heresy.--L. and Ed. + +What think you? Was she not far more prudent than her husband, and +did she not think less of her conscience than of the advantage of her +household? + +I think, said Parlamente, that she did love her husband; but, seeing +that most men wander in their wits when at the point of death, and +knowing his intentions, she tried to interpret them to her childrens +advantage. And therein I hold her to have been very prudent. + +What! said Geburon. Do you not hold it a great wrong not to carry out +the last wishes of departed friends? + +Assuredly I do, said Parlamente; that is to say if the testator be in +his right mind, and not raving. + +Do you call it raving to give ones goods to the Church and the poor +Mendicants? + +I do not call it raving, said Parlamente, if a man distribute what +God has given into his hands among the poor; but to make alms of another +persons goods is, in my opinion, no great wisdom. You will commonly see +the greatest usurers build the handsomest and most magnificent chapels +imaginable, thinking they may appease God with ten thousand ducats +worth of building for a hundred thousand ducats worth of robbery, just +as though God did not know how to count. + +In sooth, said Oisille, I have many a time wondered how they can +think to appease God for things which He Himself rebuked when He was on +earth, such as great buildings, gildings, pictures and paint. If they +really understood the passage in which God says to us that the only +offering He requires from us is a contrite and humble heart, (4) and +the other in which St. Paul says we are the temples of God wherein He +desires to dwell, (5) they would be at pains to adorn their consciences +while yet alive, and would not wait for the hour when man can do nothing +more, whether good or evil, nor (what is worse) charge those who remain +on earth to give their alms to folk upon whom, during their lifetime, +they did not deign to look. But He who knows the heart cannot be +deceived, and will judge them not according to their works, but +according to their faith and charity towards Himself. + + 4 The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and + a contrite heart, O God, thou will not despise.--_Psalm_ + li. 17.--Ed. + + 5 For ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath + said, I will dwell in them and walk in them, &c.--2 + _Corinthians_ vi. 16.--Ed. + +Why is it, then, said Geburon, that these Grey Friars and Mendicants +talk to us at our death of nothing but bestowing great benefits upon +their monasteries, assuring us that they will put us into Paradise +whether we will or not? + +How now, Geburon? said Hircan. Have you forgotten the wickedness you +related to us of the Grey Friars, that you ask how such folk find it +possible to lie? I declare to you that I do not think that there can +be greater lies than theirs. Those, indeed, who speak on behalf of the +whole community are not to be blamed, but there are some among them who +forget their vows of poverty in order to satisfy their own greed. + +Methinks, Hircan, said Nomerfide, you must know some such tale, and +if it be worthy of this company, I pray you tell it us. + +I will, said Hircan, although it irks me to speak of such folk. +Methinks they are of the number of those of whom Virgil says to Dante, +Pass on and heed them not. (6) Still, to show you that they have not +laid aside their passions with their worldly garments, I will tell you +of something that once came to pass. + + 6 _Non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa_ (Dantes + _Purgatorio_, iii. 51). The allusion is to the souls of + those who led useless and idle lives on earth, supporting + neither the Divinity by the observance of virtue, nor the + spirit of evil by the practice of vice. They are thus cast + out both from heaven and hell.--Ed. + + +[Illustration: 049.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 051a.jpg The Grey Friar introducing his Comrade to the +Lady and her Daughter] + +[The Grey Friar introducing his Comrade to the Lady and her +Daughter] + +[Illustration: 051.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LVI_. + + _A pious lady had recourse to a Grey Friar for his advice in + providing her daughter with a good husband, for whom she + proposed making it so profitable a match that the worthy + father, hoping to get the money she intended for her son-in- + law, married her daughter to a young comrade of his own. The + latter came every evening to sup and lie with his wife, and + in the morning returned in the garb of a scholar to his + convent. But one day while he was chanting mass, his wife + perceived him and pointed him out to her mother; who, + however, could not believe that it was he until she had + pulled off his coif while he was in bed, and from his tonsure + learned the whole truth, and the deceit used by her father + confessor_. + +A French lady, whilst sojourning at Padua, was informed that there was +a Grey Friar in the Bishops prison there, and finding that every one +spoke jestingly about him, she inquired the reason. She was told that +this Grey Friar, who was an old man, had been confessor to a very +honourable and pious widow lady, mother of only one daughter, whom she +loved so dearly as to be at all pains to amass riches for her, and to +find her a good husband. Now, seeing that her daughter was grown up, she +was unceasingly anxious to find her a husband who might live with them +in peace and quiet, a man, that is, of a good conscience, such as she +deemed herself to possess. And since she had heard some foolish preacher +say that it were better to do evil by the counsel of theologians than +to do well through belief in the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, she +had recourse to her father confessor, a man already old, a doctor of +theology and one who was held to lead a holy life by the whole town, +for she felt sure that, with his counsel and good prayers, she could not +fail to find peace both for herself and for her daughter. After she had +earnestly begged him to choose for her daughter such a husband as he +knew a woman that loved God and her honour ought to desire, he replied +that first of all it was needful to implore the grace of the Holy Spirit +with prayer and fasting, and then, God guiding his judgment, he hoped to +find what she required. + +So the Friar retired to think over the matter; and whereas he had heard +from the lady that she had got five hundred ducats together to give to +her daughters husband, and that she would take upon herself the charge +of maintaining both husband and wife with lodgment, furniture and +clothes, he bethought himself that he had a young comrade of handsome +figure and pleasing countenance, to whom he might give the fair maiden, +the house, the furniture, maintenance and food, whilst he himself kept +the five hundred ducats to gratify his burning greed. And when he spoke +to his comrade of the matter, he found that they were both of one mind +upon it. + +He therefore returned to the lady and said--I verily believe that God +has sent his angel Raphael to me as he did to Tobit, to enable me to +find a perfect husband for your daughter. I have in my house the most +honourable gentleman in Italy, who has sometimes seen your daughter and +is deeply in love with her. And so to-day, whilst I was at prayer, +God sent him to me, and he told me of his desire for the marriage, +whereupon, knowing his lineage and kindred and notable descent, I +promised him to speak to you on the matter. There is, indeed, one defect +in him, of which I alone have knowledge, and it is this. Wishing to save +one of his friends whom another man was striving to slay, he drew his +sword in order to separate them; but it chanced that his friend slew the +other, and thus, although he himself had not dealt a blow, yet inasmuch +as he had been present at a murder and had drawn his sword, he became +a fugitive from his native town. By the advice of his kinsfolk he came +hither in the garb of a scholar, and he dwells here unknown until his +kinsfolk shall have ended the matter; and this he hopes will shortly +be done. For this reason, then, it would be needful that the marriage +should be performed in secret, and that you should suffer him to go in +the daytime to the public lectures and return home every evening to sup +and sleep. + +Sir, replied the worthy woman, I look upon what you tell me as of +great advantage to myself, for I shall at least have by me what I most +desire in the world. + +Thereupon the Grey Friar brought his comrade, bravely attired with a +crimson satin doublet, and the lady was well pleased with him. And as +soon as he was come the betrothal took place, and, immediately after +midnight, a mass was said and they were married. Then they went to +bed together until daybreak, when the bridegroom told his wife that to +escape discovery he must needs return to the college. + +After putting on his crimson satin doublet and his long robe, without +forgetting his coif of black silk, he bade his wife, who was still in +bed, good-bye, promising that he would come every evening to sup with +her, but that at dinner they must not wait for him. So he went away and +left his wife, who esteemed herself the happiest woman alive to have +found so excellent a match. And the young wedded Friar returned to the +old father and brought him the five hundred ducats, as had been agreed +between them when arranging the marriage. + +In the evening he failed not to return and sup with her, who believed +him to be her husband, and so well did he make himself liked by her and +by his mother-in-law, that they would not have exchanged him for the +greatest Prince alive. + +This manner of life continued for some time, but God in His kindness +takes pity upon those that are deceived without fault of their own, and +so in His mercy and goodness it came to pass that one morning the lady +and her daughter felt a great desire to go and hear mass at St. Francis, +(1) and visit their good father confessor through whose means they +deemed themselves so well provided, the one with a son-in-law and the +other with a husband. + + 1 The church of the Grey Friars monastery, St Francis + being their patron.--B. J. + +It chanced that they did not find the confessor aforesaid nor any other +that they knew, and, while waiting to see whether the father would +come, they were pleased to hear high mass, which was just beginning. And +whilst the young wife was giving close heed to the divine service and +its mystery, she was stricken with astonishment on seeing the Priest +turn himself about to pronounce the _Dominus vobiscum_, for it seemed +to her that it was her husband or else his very fellow. She uttered, +however, not a word, but waited till he should turn round again, when, +looking still more carefully at him, she had no doubt that it was indeed +he. Then she twitched her mother, who was deep in contemplation, and +said-- + +Alas! madam, what is it that I see? + +What is it? said her mother. + +That is my husband, she replied, who is singing mass, or else tis +one as like him as can be. + +I pray you, my daughter, replied the mother, who had not carefully +observed him, do not take such a thought into your head. It is +impossible that men who are so holy should have practised such deceit. +You would sin grievously against God if you believed such a thing. + +Nevertheless the mother did not cease looking at him, and when it came +to the _Ite missa est_ she indeed perceived that no two sons of the same +mother were ever so much alike. Yet she was so simple that she would +fain have said, O God, save me from believing what I see. Since her +daughter was concerned in the matter, however, she would not suffer it +to remain in uncertainty, and resolved to learn the truth. + +When evening was come, and the husband (who had perceived nothing of +them) was about to return, the mother said to her daughter-- + +We shall now, if you are willing, find out the truth concerning your +husband. When he is in bed I will go to him, and then, while he is not +thinking, you will pluck off his coif from behind, and we shall see +whether he be tonsured like the Friar who said mass. + +As it was proposed, so was it done. As soon as the wicked husband was in +bed, the old lady came and took both his hands as though in sport--her +daughter took off his coif, and there he was with his fine tonsure. At +this both mother and daughter were as greatly astonished as might be, +and forthwith they called their servants to seize him and bind him fast +till the morning, nor did any of his excuses or fine speeches avail him +aught. + +When day was come, the lady sent for her confessor, making as though she +had some great secret to tell him, whereupon he came with all speed, and +then, reproaching him for the deceit that he had practised on her, she +had him seized like the other. Afterwards she sent for the officers of +justice, in whose hands she placed them both. It is to be supposed that +if the judges were honest men they did not suffer the offence to go +unpunished. (2) + + 2 There is some little resemblance between this tale and + the 36th of Morlinis _Novello, De monacho qui duxit + uxorem_.--M. + +From this story, ladies, you will see that those who have taken vows of +poverty are not free from the temptation of covetousness, which is the +cause of so many ills. + +Nay, of so many blessings, said Saffredent, for with the five hundred +ducats that the old woman would have stored up there was made much good +cheer, while the poor maiden, who had been longing for a husband, was +thus enabled to have two, and to speak with more knowledge as to the +truth of all hierarchies. + +You always hold the falsest opinions, said Oisille, that ever I knew. +You think that all women are of your own temper. + +Not so, madam, with your good leave, said Saffredent. I would give +much that they were as easily satisfied as we are. + +That is a wicked speech, said Oisille, and there is not one present +but knows the contrary, and that what you say is untrue. The story that +has just been told proves the ignorance of poor women and the wickedness +of those whom we regard as better than the rest of your sex; for neither +mother nor daughter would do aught according to their own fancy, but +subjected desire to good advice. + +Some women are so difficult, said Longarine, that they think they +ought to have angels instead of men. + +And for that reason, said Simontault, they often meet with devils, +more especially those who, instead of trusting to Gods grace, think +by their own good sense, or that of others, that they may in this world +find some happiness, though this is granted by none save God, from whom +alone it can come. + +How now, Simontault! said Oisille. I did not think that you knew so +much good. + +Madam, said Simontault, tis a pity that I have not been proved, for +I see that through lack of knowledge you have already judged ill of me. +Yet I may well practise a Grey Friars trade, since a Grey Friar has +meddled with mine. + +So you call it your trade, said Parlamente, to deceive women? Thus +out of your mouth are you judged. + +Had I deceived a hundred thousand, said Simontault, I should yet not +have avenged the woes that I have endured for the sake of one alone. + +I know, said Parlamente, how often you complain of women; yet, +for all that, we see you so merry and hearty that it is impossible +to believe that you have endured all the woes you speak of. But the +Compassionless Fair One (3) replies that-- + + Tis as well to say as much + To draw some comfort thence. + + 3 _La belle Dame sans mercy_, by Alain Chartier.--Ed. + +You quote a truly notable theologian, said Simontault, one who is +not only froward himself, but makes all the ladies so, who have read and +followed his teaching. + +Yet his teaching, said Parlamente, is as profitable for youthful +dames as any that I know. + +If it were indeed true, said Simontault, that the ladies were without +compassion, we might as well let our horses rest and our armour grow +rusty until the next war, and think of nothing but household affairs. +And, I pray you, tell me whether it is an excellence in a lady to have +the reputation of being without pity, or charity, or love, or mercy. + +Without charity or love, said Parlamente, they should not be, but the +word mercy sounds so ill among women that they cannot use it without +wounding their honour; for properly speaking mercy means to grant a +favour sought, and we well know what the favour is that men desire. + +May it please you, madam, said Simontault, there are some men who are +so reasonable that they crave nought but speech. + +You remind me, said Parlamente, of one who was content with a glove. + +We must know who this easy lover was, said Hircan, and so this time I +give my vote to you. + +It will give me pleasure to tell the tale, said Parlamente, for it is +full of virtue. + + +[Illustration: 061.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 063a.jpg The English Lord seizing the Ladys Glove] + +[The English Lord seizing the Ladys Glove] + +[Illustration: 063.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LVII_. + + _An English lord for seven years loved a lady without ever + venturing to let her know of it, until one day, when + observing her in a meadow, he lost all colour and control of + feature through a sudden throbbing of the heart that came + upon him. Then she, showing her compassion, at his request + placed her gloved hand upon his heart, whereupon he pressed + it so closely, whilst declaring to her the love he had so + long borne her, that she withdrew it, leaving in its place + her glove. And this glove he afterwards enriched with gems + and fastened upon his doublet above his heart, and showed + himself so graceful and virtuous a lover that he never + sought any more intimate favour of her_. + +King Louis the Eleventh (1) sent the Lord de Montmorency to England as +his ambassador, and so welcome was the latter in that country that the +King and all the Princes greatly esteemed and loved him, and even +made divers of their private affairs known to him in order to have his +counsel upon them. + + 1 Some of the MS. say Louis XII., but we cannot find that + either the eleventh or twelfth Louis sent any Montmorency as + ambassador to England. Ripault-Desormeaux states, however, + in his history of this famous French family, that William de + Montmorency, who, after fighting in Italy under Charles + VIII. and Louis XII., became, governor of the Orlanais and + _chevalier dhonneur_ to Louise of Savoy was one of the + signatories of the treaty concluded with Henry VIII. of + England, after the-battle of Pavia in 1525. We know that + Louise, as Regent of France, at that time sent John Brinon + and John Joachim de Passano as ambassadors to England, and + possibly William de Montmorency accompanied them, since + Desormeaux expressly states that he guaranteed the loyal + observance of the treaty then negotiated. William was the + father of Anne, the famous Constable of France, and died May + 24, 1531. Geburon, in the dialogue following the above + tale, mentions that he had well known the Montmorency + referred to, and speaks of him as of a person dead and gone. + It is therefore scarcely likely that Queen Margaret alludes + to Francis de Montmorency, Lord of La Rochepot, who was only + sent on a mission to England in 1546, and survived her by + many years.--L. and Ed. + +One day, at a banquet that the King gave to him, he was seated beside a +lord (2) of high lineage, who had on his doublet a little glove, such +as women wear, fastened with hooks of gold and so adorned upon the +finger-seams with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and pearls, that it was +indeed a glove of great price. + + 2 The French word is _Millor (Milord)_ and this is probably + one of the earliest instances of its employment to designate + a member of the English aristocracy. In such of the _Cent + Nouvelles Nouvelles_ in which English nobles figure, the + latter are invariably called _seigneurs_ or _chevaliers_, + and addressed as _Monseigneur_, Later on, when Brantme + wrote, the term _un milord anglais_ had become quite common, + and he frequently makes use of it in his various works. + English critics have often sneered at modern French writers + for employing the expression, but it will be seen from this + that they have simply followed a very old tradition.--Ed. + +The Lord de Montmorency looked at it so often that the English lord +perceived he was minded to inquire why it was so choicely ordered; so, +deeming its story to be greatly to his own honour, he thus began-- + +I can see that you think it strange I should have so magnificently +arrayed a simple glove, and on my part I am still more ready to tell you +the reason, for I deem you an honest gentleman and one who knows what +manner of passion love is, so that if I did well in the matter you will +praise me for it, and if not, make excuse for me, knowing that every +honourable heart must obey the behests of love. You must know, then, +that I have all my life long loved a lady whom I love still, and shall +love even when I am dead, but, as my heart was bolder to fix itself +worthily than were my lips to speak, I remained for seven years without +venturing to make her any sign, through fear that, if she perceived +the truth, I should lose the opportunities I had of often being in her +company; and this I dreaded more than death. However, one day, while I +was observing her in a meadow, a great throbbing of the heart came upon +me, so that I lost all colour and control of feature. Perceiving +this, she asked me what the matter was, and I told her that I felt +an intolerable pain of the heart. She, believing it to be caused by a +different sickness than love, showed herself pitiful towards me, which +prompted me to beg her to lay her hand upon my heart and see how it was +beating. This, more from charity than from any other affection, she did, +and while I held her gloved hand against my heart, it began to beat and +strain in such wise, that she felt that I was speaking the truth. Then I +pressed her hand to my breast, saying-- + +Alas, madam, receive the heart which would fain break forth from my +breast to leap into the hand of her from whom I look for indulgence, +life and pity, and which now constrains me to make known to you the +love that I have so long concealed, for neither my heart nor I can now +control this potent God. + +When she heard those words, she deemed them very strange. She wished +to withdraw her hand, but I held it fast, and the glove remained in her +cruel hands place; and having neither before nor since had any more +intimate favour from her, I have fastened this glove upon my heart as +the best plaster I could give it. And I have adorned it with the +richest rings I have, though the glove itself is wealth that I would not +exchange for the kingdom of England, for I deem no happiness on earth so +great as to feel it on my breast. + +The Lord de Montmorency, who would have rather had a ladys hand than +her glove, praised his very honourable behaviour, telling him that +he was the truest lover he had ever known, and was worthy of better +treatment, since he set so much value upon so slight a thing; though +perchance, if he had obtained aught better than the glove, the greatness +of his love might have made him die of joy. With this the English lord +agreed, not suspecting that the Lord de Montmorency was mocking him. (3) + + 3 Alluding to this story, Brantme writes as follows in his + _Dames Galantes_: You have that English _Milord_ in the + Hundred Tales of the Queen of Navarre, who wore his + mistresss glove at his side, beautifully adorned. I myself + have known many gentlemen who, before wearing their silken + hose, would beg their ladies and mistresses to try them on + and wear them for some eight or ten days, rather more than + less, and who would then themselves wear them in extreme + veneration and contentment, both of mind and body.-- + Lalannes _OEuvres de Brantme_, vol. ix. p. 309.--L. + +If all men were so honourable as this one, the ladies might well trust +them, since the cost would be merely a glove. + +I knew the Lord de Montmorency well, said Geburon, and I am sure that +he would not have cared to fare after the English fashion. Had he been +contented with so little, he would not have been so successful in love +as he was, for the old song says-- + + Of a cowardly lover + No good is eer heard. + +You may be sure, said Saffredent, that the poor lady withdrew her +hand with all speed, when she felt the beating of his heart, because she +thought that he was about to die, and people say that there is nothing +women loathe more than to touch dead bodies. (4) + + 4 Most of this sentence, deficient in our MS., is taken + from MS. No. 1520.--L. + +If you had spent as much time in hospitals as in taverns, said +Ennasuite, you would not speak in that way, for you would have seen +women shrouding dead bodies, which men, bold as they are, often fear to +touch. + +It is true, said Saffredent, that there is none upon whom penance has +been laid but does the opposite of that wherein he formerly had delight, +like a lady I once saw in a notable house, who, to atone for her delight +in kissing one she loved, was found at four oclock in the morning +kissing the corpse of a gentleman who had been killed the day before, +and whom she had never liked more than any other. Then every one knew +that this was a penance for past delights. But as all the good deeds +done by women are judged ill by men, I am of opinion that, dead or +alive, there should be no kissing except after the fashion that God +commands. + +For my part, said Hircan, I care so little about kissing women, +except my own wife, that I will assent to any law you please, yet I +pity the young folk whom you deprive of this trifling happiness, thus +annulling the command of St. Paul, who bids us kiss _in osculo sancto._ + (5) + + 5 _Romans_ xvi. 16; 1 _Corinthians_ xvi. 20; 2 + _Corinthians_ xiii. 12; I _Thessalonians_ v. 26. Also 1 + _Peter_ v. 14.--M. + +If St. Paul had been such a man as you are, said Nomerfide, we should +indeed have required proof of the Spirit of God that spoke in him. + +In the end, said Geburon, you will doubt Holy Scripture rather than +give up one of your petty affectations. + +God forbid, said Oisille, that we should doubt Holy Scripture, but +we put small faith in your lies. There is no woman but knows what her +belief should be, namely, never to doubt the Word of God or believe the +word of man. + +Yet, said Simontauit, I believe that there are more men deceived by +women than [women] by men. The slenderness of womens love towards us +keeps them from believing our truths, whilst our exceeding love towards +them makes us trust so completely in their falsehoods, that we are +deceived before we suspect such a thing to be possible. + +Methinks, said Parlamente, you have been hearing some fool complain +of being duped by a wanton woman, for your words carry but little +weight, and need the support of an example. If, therefore, you know of +one, I give you my place that you may tell it to us. I do not say that +we are bound to believe you on your mere word, but it will assuredly not +make our ears tingle to hear you speak ill of us, since we know what is +the truth. + +Well, since it is for me to speak, said Dagoucin, tis I who will +tell you the tale. + + +[Illustration: 070.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 071a. The Gentleman Mocked by the Ladies When Returning From The False +Tryst] + +[The Gentleman Mocked by the Ladies When Returning From The False Tryst] + +[Illustration: 071.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LVIII._ + + _A gentleman, through putting too much trust in the + truthfulness of a lady whom he had offended by forsaking her + for others just when she was most in love with him, was, by + a false tryst, deceived by her, and bemocked by the whole + Court_. + +At the Court of King Francis the First there was a lady (1) of excellent +wit, who, by her grace, virtue and pleasantness of speech, had won the +hearts of several lovers. With these she right well knew how to pass +the time, but without hurt to her honour, conversing with them in such +pleasant fashion that they knew not what to think, for those who were +the most confident were reduced to despair, whilst those that despaired +the most became hopeful. Nevertheless, while fooling most of them, she +could not help greatly loving one whom she called her cousin, a name +which furnished a pretext for closer fellowship. + + 1 M. de Lincy surmises that Margaret is referring to + herself both here and in the following tale, which concerns + the same lady. His only reason for the supposition, however, + is that the ladys views on certain love matters are akin to + those which the Queen herself professed.--Ed. + +However, as there is nothing in this world of firm continuance, their +friendship often turned to anger and then was renewed in stronger sort +than ever, so that the whole Court could not but be aware of it. + +One day the lady, both to let it be seen that she was wholly void +of passion, and to vex him, for love of whom she had endured much +annoyance, showed him a fairer countenance than ever she had done +before. Thereupon the gentleman, who lacked boldness neither in love nor +in war, began hotly to press the suit that he many a time previously had +addressed to her. + +She, pretending to be wholly vanquished by pity, promised to grant his +request, and told him that she would with this intent go into her room, +which was on a garret floor, where she knew there was nobody. And as +soon as he should see that she was gone he was to follow her without +fail, for he would find her ready to give proof of the good-will that +she bore him. + +The gentleman, believing what she said, was exceedingly well pleased, +and began to amuse himself with the other ladies until he should see +her gone, and might quickly follow her. But she, who lacked naught of +womans craftiness, betook herself to my Lady Margaret, daughter of the +King, and to the Duchess of Montpensier, (2) to whom she said-- + +I will if you are willing, show you the fairest diversion you have ever +seen. + + 2 The former is Margaret of France, Duchess of Savoy and + Berry. Born in June 1523, she died in September 1574.-- + Queen Margaret was her godmother. When only three years old, + she was promised in marriage to Louis of Savoy, eldest son + of Duke Charles III., and he dying, she espoused his younger + brother, Emmanuel Philibert, in July 1549. Graceful and + pretty as a child (see _ante_, vol. i. p. xlviii.), she + became, thanks to the instruction of the famous Michael de + l Hpital, one of the most accomplished women of her time, + and Brantme devotes an article to her in his _Dames + Illustres_ (Lalanne, v. viii. pp. 328-37). See also Hilarion + de Costes _loges et Vies des Reines, Princesses, &c_., + Paris, 1647, vol. ii. p. 278. + + The Duchess of Montpensier, also referred to above, is + Jacqueline de Longwick (now Longwy), Countess of Bar-sur- + Seine, daughter of J. Ch. de Longwick, Lord of Givry, and of + Jane, _btarde_ of Angoulme. In 1538 Jacqueline was + married to Louis II. de Bourbon, Duke of Montpensier. She + gained great influence at the French Court, both under + Francis I. and afterwards, and De Thou says of her that she + was possessed of great wit and wisdom, far superior to the + century in which she lived. She died in August 1561, and was + the mother of Francis I., Duke of Montpensier, sometimes + called the Dauphin of Auvergne, who fought at Jarnac, + Moncontour, Arques, and Ivry, against Henry of Navarre.--L., + B. J. and Ed. + +They, being by no means enamoured of melancholy, begged that she would +tell them what it was. + +You know such a one, she replied, as worthy a gentleman as lives, and +as bold. You are aware how many ill turns he has done me, and that, just +when I loved him most, he fell in love with others, and so caused me +more grief than I have ever suffered to be seen. Well, God has now +afforded me the means of taking revenge upon him. + +I am forthwith going to my own room, which is overhead, and immediately +afterwards, if it pleases you to keep watch, you will see him follow me. +When he has passed the galleries, and is about to go up the stairs, I +pray you come both to the window and help me to cry Thief! You will +then see his rage, which, I am sure, will not become him badly, and, +even if he does not revile me aloud, I am sure he will none the less do +so in his heart. + +This plan was not agreed to without laughter, for there was no gentleman +that tormented the ladies more than he did, whilst he was so greatly +liked and esteemed by all, that for nothing in the world would any one +have run the risk of his raillery. + +It seemed, moreover, to the two Princesses that they would themselves +share in the glory which the other lady looked to win over this +gentleman. + +Accordingly, as soon as they saw the deviser of the plot go out, they +set themselves to observe the gentlemans demeanour. But little time +went by before he shifted his quarters, and, as soon as he had passed +the door, the ladies went out into the gallery, in order that they might +not lose sight of him. + +Suspecting nothing, he wrapped his cloak about his neck, so as to hide +his face, and went down the stairway to the court, but, seeing some one +whom he did not desire to have for witness, he came back by another +way, and then went down into the court a second time. The ladies saw +everything without being perceived by him, and when he reached the +stairway, by which he thought he might safely reach his sweethearts +chamber, they went to the window, whence they immediately perceived +the other lady, who began crying out Thief! at the top of her voice; +whereupon the two ladies below answered her so loudly that their voices +were heard all over the castle. + +I leave you to imagine with what vexation the gentleman fled to his +lodgings. He was not so well muffled as not to be known by those who +were in the mystery, and they often twitted him with it, as did even +the lady who had done him this ill turn, saying that she had been well +revenged upon him. + +It happened, however, that he was so ready with his replies and evasions +as to make them believe that he had quite suspected the plan, and had +only consented to visit the lady in order to furnish them with some +diversion, for, said he, he would not have taken so much trouble for +her sake, seeing that his love for her had long since flown. The ladies +would not admit the truth of this, so that the point is still in doubt; +nevertheless, it is probable that he believed the lady. And since he +was so wary and so bold that few men of his age and time could match +and none could surpass him (as has been proved by his very brave and +knightly death), (3) you must, it seems to me, confess that men of +honour love in such wise as to be often duped, by placing too much trust +in the truthfulness of the ladies. + + 3 This naturally brings Bonnivet to mind, though of course + the gay, rash admiral was not the only Frenchman of the time + who spent his life in making love and waging war.--Ed. + +In good faith, said Ennasuite, I commend this lady for the trick she +played; for when a man is loved by a lady and forsakes her for another, +her vengeance cannot be too severe. + +Yes, said Parlamente, if she is loved by him; but there are some who +love men without being certain that they are loved in return, and when +they find that their sweethearts love elsewhere, they call them fickle. +It therefore happens that discreet women are never deceived by such +talk, for they give no heed or belief even to those people who speak +truly, lest they should prove to be liars, seeing that the true and the +false speak but one tongue. + +If all women were of your opinion, said Simon-tault, the gentlemen +might pack up their prayers at once; but, for all that you and those +like you may say, we shall never believe that women are as unbelieving +as they are fair. And in this wise we shall live as content as you would +fain render us uneasy by your maxims. + +Truly, said Longarine, knowing as I well do who the lady is that +played that fine trick upon the gentleman, it is impossible for me not +to believe in any craftiness on her part. Since she did not spare her +husband, twere fitting she should not spare her lover. + +Her husband, say you? said Simontault. You know, then, more than I +do, and so, since you wish it, I give you my place that you may tell us +your opinion of the matter. + +And since you wish it, said Longarine, I will do so. + + +[Illustration: 078.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 079a. The Lady discovering her Husband with the Waiting-woman] + +[The Lady discovering her Husband with the Waiting-woman] + +[Illustration: 079.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LIX_. + + _This same lady, finding that her husband took it ill that + she should have lovers with whom she amused herself without + hurt to her honour, kept close watch upon him, and so + discovered how pleasantly he addressed himself to one of her + waiting-women. This woman she gained upon, made her consent + to what her husband solicited, and then surprised him in + such error that to atone for it, he was forced to confess + that he deserved greater punishment than herself; by which + means she was afterwards able to live as her fancy listed_. + +The lady of your story was wedded to a rich gentleman of high and +ancient lineage, and had married him on account of the great affection +that they bore to one another. + +Being a woman most pleasant of speech, she by no means concealed from +her husband that she had lovers whom she made game of for her pastime, +and, at first, her husband shared in her pleasure. But at last this +manner of life became irksome to him, for on the one part he took it ill +that she should hold so much converse with those that were no kinsfolk +or friends of his own, and on the other, he was greatly vexed by the +expense to which he was put in sustaining her magnificence and in +following the Court. + +He therefore withdrew to his own house as often as he was able, but so +much company came thither to see him that the expenses of his household +became scarcely any less, for, wherever his wife might be, she always +found means to pass her time in sports, dances, and all such matters as +youthful dames may use with honour. And when sometimes her husband told +her, laughing, that their expenses were too great, she would reply that +she promised never to make him a coqu or cuckold, but only a coquin, + that is, a beggar; for she was so exceedingly fond of dress, that she +must needs have the bravest and richest at the Court. (1) Her husband +took her thither as seldom as possible, but she did all in her power +to go, and to this end behaved in a most loving fashion towards her +husband, who would not willingly have refused her a much harder request. + + 1 As Queen Margaret was by no means over fond of gorgeous + apparel and display, this passage is in contradiction with + M. de Lincys surmise that the lady of this and the + preceding tale may be herself. In any case the narrative + could only apply to the period of her first marriage, and + this was in no wise a love-match. Yet we are told at the + outset of the above story that the lady and gentleman had + married on account of the great affection between them. On + the other hand, these details may have been introduced the + better to conceal the identity of the persons referred to.-- + Ed. + +Now one day, when she had found that all her devices could not induce +him to make this journey to the Court, she perceived that he was very +pleasant in manner with a chamber-woman (2) she had, and thereupon +thought she might turn the matter to her own advantage. Taking the girl +apart, she questioned her cleverly, using both wiles and threats, in +such wise that the girl confessed that, ever since she had been in the +house, not a day had passed on which her master had not sought her love; +but (she added) she would rather die than do aught against God and her +honour, more especially after the honour which the lady had done her in +taking her into her service, for this would make such wickedness twice +as great. + + 2 The French expression here is _femme de chambre + chaperon_. The _chaperon_ in this instance was a cap with a + band of velvet worn across it as a sign of gentle and even + noble birth. The attendant referred to above would therefore + probably be a young woman of good descent, constrained by + circumstances to enter domestic service.--B. J. and Ed. + +On hearing of her husbands unfaithfulness, the lady immediately felt +both grief and joy. Her grief was that her husband, despite all his show +of loving her, should be secretly striving to put her to so much shame +in her own household, and this when she believed herself far more +beautiful and graceful than the woman whom he sought in her stead. +But she rejoiced to think that she might surprise her husband in such +manifest error that he would no longer be able to reproach her with her +lovers, nor with her desire to dwell at Court; and, to bring this about, +she begged the girl gradually to grant her husband what he sought upon +certain conditions that she made known to her. + +The girl was minded to make some difficulty, but when her mistress +warranted the safety both of her life and of her honour, she consented +to do whatever might be her pleasure. + +The gentleman, on continuing his pursuit of the girl, found her +countenance quite changed towards him, and therefore urged his suit more +eagerly than had been his wont; but she, knowing by heart the part +she had to play, made objection of her poverty, and said that, if she +complied with his desire, she would be turned away by her mistress, in +whose service she looked to gain a good husband. + +The gentleman forthwith replied that she need give no thought to any +such matters, since he would bestow her in marriage more profitably than +her mistress would be able to do, and further, would contrive the matter +so secretly that none would know of it. + +Upon this they came to an agreement, and, on considering what place +would be most suited for such a fine business, the girl said that she +knew of none better or more remote from suspicion than a cottage in the +park, where there was a chamber and a bed suitable for the occasion. + +The gentleman, who would not have thought any place unsuitable, was +content with the one she named, and was very impatient for the appointed +day and hour to come. + +The girl kept her word to her mistress, and told her in full the whole +story of the plan, and how it was to be put into execution on the morrow +after dinner. She would not fail, said she, to give a sign when the time +came to go to the cottage, and she begged her mistress to be watchful, +and in no wise fail to be present at the appointed hour, in order to +save her from the danger into which her obedience was leading her. + +This her mistress swore, begging her to be without fear, and promising +that she would never forsake her, but would protect her from her +husbands wrath. + +When the morrow was come and dinner was over, the gentleman was more +pleasant with his wife than ever, and although this was not very +agreeable to her, she dissembled so well that he did not perceive the +truth. + +After dinner she asked him how he was minded to pass away the time, and +he answered that he knew of nothing better than to play at cent. (3) +Forthwith everything was made ready for the game, but the lady pretended +that she did not care to take part in it, and would find diversion +enough in looking at the players. + + 3 This is probably a reference to the card game now called + piquet, usually played for a hundred points. It is one of + the oldest of its kind. See Rabelais _Gargantua_, book i. + chap, xxii.--L. + +Just before he sat down to play, the gentleman failed not to ask the +girl to remember her promise to him, and while he was playing she passed +through the room, making a sign to her mistress which signified that +she was about to set out on the pilgrimage she had to make. The sign was +clearly seen by the lady, but her husband perceived nothing of it. + +An hour later, however, one of his servants made him a sign from a +distance, whereupon he told his wife that his head ached somewhat, and +that he must needs rest and take the air. She, knowing the nature of his +sickness as well as he did himself, asked him whether she should play +in his stead, and he consented, saying that he would very soon return. +However, she assured him that she could take his place for a couple of +hours without weariness. + +So the gentleman withdrew to his room, and thence by an alley into his +park. + +The lady, who knew another and shorter way, waited for a little while, +and then, suddenly feigning to be seized with colic, gave her hand at +play to another. + +As soon as she was out of the room, she put off her high-heeled shoes +and ran as quickly as she could to the place, where she had no desire +that the bargain should be struck without her. And so speedily did she +arrive, that, when she entered the room by another door, her husband was +but just come in. Then, hiding herself behind the door, she listened to +the fair and honest discourse that he held to her maid. But when she +saw that he was coming near to the criminal point, she seized him from +behind, saying-- + +Nay, I am too near that you should take another. + +It is needless to ask whether the gentleman was in extreme wrath, both +at being balked of the delight he had looked to obtain, and at having +his wife, whose affection he now greatly feared to lose for ever, know +more of him than he desired. He thought, however, that the plot had been +contrived by the girl, and (without speaking to his wife) he ran after +her with such fury that, had not his wife rescued her from his hands, +he would have killed her. He declared that she was the wickedest jade +he had ever known, and that, if his wife had waited to see the end, she +would have found that he was only mocking her, for, instead of doing +what she expected, he would have chastised her with rods. + +But his wife, knowing what words of the sort were worth, set no value +upon them, and addressed such reproaches to him that he was in great +fear lest she should leave him. He promised her all that she asked, +and, after her sage reproaches, confessed that it was wrong of him to +complain that she had lovers; since a fair and honourable woman is none +the less virtuous for being loved, provided that she do or say nothing +contrary to her honour; whereas a man deserves heavy punishment when he +is at pains to pursue a woman that loves him not, to the wronging of +his wife and his own conscience. He would therefore, said he, never more +prevent his wife from going to Court, nor take it ill that she should +have lovers, for he knew that she spoke with them more in jest than in +affection. + +This talk was not displeasing to the lady, for it seemed to her that +she had gained an important point. Nevertheless she spoke quite to the +contrary, pretending that she had no delight in going to Court, since +she no longer possessed his love, without which all assemblies were +displeasing to her; and saying that a woman who was truly loved by her +husband, and who loved him in return, as she did, carried with her a +safe-conduct that permitted her to speak with one and all, and to be +derided by none. + +The poor gentleman was at so much pains to assure her of the love he +bore her, that at last they left the place good friends. That they might +not again fall into such trouble, he begged her to turn away the girl +through whom he had undergone so much distress. This she did, but did it +by bestowing her well and honourably in marriage, and at her husbands +expense. + +And, to make the lady altogether forget his folly, the gentleman soon +took her to Court, in such style and so magnificently arrayed that she +had good reason to be content. + +This, ladies, was what made me say I did not find the trick she played +upon one of her lovers a strange one, knowing, as I did, the trick she +had played upon her husband. + +You have described to us a very cunning wife and a very stupid +husband, said Hircan. Having advanced so far, he ought not to have +come to a standstill and stopped on so fair a road. + +And what should he have done? said Longarine. + +What he had taken in hand to do, said Hircan, for his wife was no +less wrathful with him for his intention to do evil than she would have +been had he carried the evil into execution. Perchance, indeed, she +would have respected him more if she had seen that he was a bolder +gallant. + +That is all very well, said Ennasuite, but where will you find a man +to face two women at once? His wife would have defended her rights and +the girl her virginity. + +True, said Hircan, but a strong bold man does not fear to assail two +that are weak, nor will he ever fail to vanquish them. + +I readily understand, said Ennasuite, that if he had drawn his sword +he might have killed them both, but otherwise I cannot see that he had +any means of escape. I pray you, therefore, tell us what you would have +done? + +I should have taken my wife in my arms, said Hircan, and have carried +her out. Then I should have had my own way with her maid by love or by +force. + +Tis enough, Hircan, said Parlamente, that you know how to do evil. + +I am sure, Parlamente, he replied, that I do not scandalise the +innocence in whose presence I speak, and by what I have said I do not +mean that I support a wicked deed. But I wonder at the attempt, which +was in itself worthless, and at the attempter, who, for fear rather than +for love of his wife, failed to complete it. I praise a man who loves +his wife as God ordains; but when he does not love her, I think little +of him for fearing her. + +Truly, replied Parlamente, if love did not render you a good husband, +I should make small account of what you might do through fear. + +You are quite safe, Parlamente, said Hircan, for the love I bear you +makes me more obedient than could the fear of either death or hell. + +You may say what you please, said Parlamente, but I have reason to be +content with what I have seen and known of you. As for what I have not +seen, I have never wished to make guess or still less inquiry. + +I think it great folly, said Nomerfide, for women to inquire so +curiously concerning their husbands, or husbands concerning their wives. +Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, without giving so much heed +to the morrow. + +Yet it is sometimes needful, said Oisille, to inquire into matters +that may touch the honour of a house in order to set them right, though +not to pass evil judgment upon persons, seeing that there is none who +does not fail. + +Many, said Geburon, have at divers times fallen into trouble for lack +of well and carefully inquiring into the errors of their wives. + +I pray you, said Longarine, if you know any such instance, do not +keep it from us. + +I do indeed know one, said Geburon, and since you so desire, I will +relate it. + + +[Illustration: 090.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 091a. The Chanter of Blois delivering his Mistress from the Grave] + +[The Chanter of Blois delivering his Mistress from the Grave] + +[Illustration: 091.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LX_. + + _A man of Paris, through not making good inquiry concerning + his wife, whom he believed dead, though she was indeed + making good cheer with a chanter to the King, married a + second wife, whom, after having several children by her and + consorting with her for fourteen or fifteen years, he was + constrained to leave, in order to take his first wife back + again_. + +In the city of Paris there was a man who was so good-natured that he +would have scrupled to believe a man abed with his wife, even if he had +seen him with his own eyes. This poor man married a woman whose conduct +was as bad as could be; nevertheless he perceived nothing of it, and +treated her as though she were the most virtuous woman alive. One +day, however, when King Louis XII. came to Paris, his wife surrendered +herself to one of the choir-men of the aforesaid sovereign, and when she +found that the King was leaving Paris and that she would no longer +be able to see the singer, she resolved to follow him and forsake her +husband. To this the chanter agreed, and brought her to a house that he +had near Blois, (1) where for a long while they lived together. The poor +husband, finding that he had lost his wife, sought her everywhere; and +at last it was told him that she was gone away with the chanter. + +Wishing to recover the lost ewe which he had so badly watched, he wrote +many letters to her begging her to return to him, and saying that he +would take her back if she were willing to be a virtuous woman. But she +took such great delight in listening to the songs of the chanter, that +she had forgotten her husbands voice, and gave no heed to all his +excellent words, but mocked at them. + +Therefore the husband, in great wrath, gave her to know that, since +she would return to him in no other way, he would demand her in legal +fashion of the Church. (2) The wife, dreading that if the law should +take the matter in hand she and her chanter would fare badly, devised a +stratagem worthy of such a woman as herself. Feigning sickness, she sent +for some honourable women of the town to come and see her, and this they +willingly did, hoping that her illness might be a means of withdrawing +her from her evil life, with which purpose they addressed the sagest +admonitions to her. Thereupon she, whilst pretending to be grievously +sick, made a show of weeping and acknowledging her sinfulness in such +sort that she gained the pity of the whole company, who quite believed +that she was speaking from the bottom of her heart. And, finding her +thus subdued and sorry, they began to comfort her, telling her that God +was in no wise so terrible as many preachers represented Him, and that +He would never refuse to show her mercy. + + 1 Louis XII.s favourite place of residence.--Ed. + + 2 Implying the Officialit or episcopal court.--B. J. + +After this excellent discourse, they sent for a virtuous man to come +and confess her, and on the morrow the priest of the parish came to +administer the Holy Sacrament. This she received so piously, that +all the virtuous women of the town who were present wept to see her +devoutness, praising God, who of His goodness had in this wise shown +compassion upon this poor creature. + +Afterwards she pretended that she could no longer take food, whereupon +the extreme unction was brought by the priest and received by her with +many pious signs; for (as they thought) she was scarcely able to speak. +She continued thus for a great while, and it seemed as though she were +gradually losing her sight, hearing and other senses, whereat there came +from all a cry of Jesus! As night was at hand and the ladies were far +from home, they all withdrew; and just as they were leaving the house it +was told them that she was dead, whereupon, saying their _De profundis_ +for her, they returned to their houses. + +The priest asked the chanter where he would have her buried, and the +other replied that she had desired to be buried in the cemetery, +and that it would be well to bring her there at night. So the poor +unfortunate was shrouded by a serving-woman, who was careful not to hurt +her, and then by brave torchlight she was carried to the grave that the +chanter had caused to be made. + +When the body passed in front of the houses of those who had been +present when she received the extreme unction, they all came forth +and followed her to the tomb; and there she was soon left by women and +priests alike. The chanter, however, did not go away, but, as soon as he +saw the company some distance off, he and the serving-woman opened the +grave wherein was his sweetheart more alive than ever, and he sent her +secretly to his house, where for a long time he kept her concealed. + +The husband, who was in pursuit of her, came as far as Blois to demand +justice, when he found that she was dead and buried according to the +testimony of all the ladies of Blois. They told him, too, what a good +end she had made, and the worthy man was rejoiced to think that his +wifes soul was in Paradise, and himself rid of her wicked body. + +In this wise well content, he betook himself back to Paris, where he +married a beautiful and virtuous young woman, and a good housewife, by +whom he had several children, and with whom he lived for fourteen or +fifteen years. But at last rumour, which can keep nothing hid, advised +him that his wife was not dead, but was still dwelling with the wicked +chanter. The poor man concealed the matter as well as he was able, +pretending to know nothing about it, and hoping that it was a lie. But +his wife, who was a discreet woman, was told of it, and such was her +anguish at the tidings that she was like to die of grief. Had it been +possible without offence to her conscience, she would gladly have +concealed her misfortune, but it was not possible. The Church +immediately took the affair in hand, and first of all separated them +from each other until the truth of the matter should be known. + +Then was this poor man obliged to leave the good and go after the bad, +and in this wise he came to Blois shortly after Francis the First had +become king. Here he found Queen Claude and my Lady the Regent, (3) to +whom he made his complaint, asking for her whom he would gladly not have +found, but whom, to the great compassion of the whole company, he was +now obliged to see. + + 3 This shows that the incidents of the tale occurred in the + summer or autumn of 1515, when Francis I. was absent in + Italy conducting the campaign which resulted in the victory + of Marignano and the surrender of Milan.--Ed. + +When his wife was brought before him, she strove for a long while to +maintain that he was not her husband, which he would willingly have +believed had he been able. More disappointed than abashed, she told him +that she would rather die than go back with him, and at this he was well +pleased; but the ladies in whose presence she spoke in this unseemly +fashion condemned her to return, and so rated the chanter with many a +threat, that he was obliged to tell his ugly sweetheart to go back with +her husband, and to declare that he himself would never see her more. + +Rejected thus on all sides, the poor unfortunate withdrew to a home in +which she was fated to meet with better treatment from her husband than +she had deserved. + +You see, ladies, why I say that if the poor husband had been more +watchful over his wife, he would not thus have lost her. A thing that is +well guarded is difficult to lose, but heedlessness makes the thief. + +Tis a strange thing, said Hircan, how strong love is just where it +seems most unreasonable. + +I have heard, said Simontault, that it were easier to break two +marriages than to sunder the love of a priest and his serving-maid. + +I believe it, said Ennasuite; for those who bind others together in +marriage, are so well able to tie the knot that nought but death can +destroy it. Theologians, moreover, hold that spiritual language is of +more effect than any other, and in consequence spiritual love surpasses +any other kind. + +It is a thing that I cannot forgive in ladies, said Dagoucin, when +they forsake an honourable husband or a lover for a priest, however +handsome and worthy the latter may be. + +I pray you, Dagoucin, said Hircan, intermeddle not with our Holy +Mother Church. Be assured that tis a great delight for timorous and +secret-loving women to sin with those who can absolve them; for there +are some who are more ashamed to confess a thing than to do it. + +You speak, said Oisille, of those who have no knowledge of God, and +who think not that secret matters are one day revealed in presence of +the Company of Heaven. But I think that it is not for confessions sake +that they go after confessors; for the Enemy has so blinded them that +they are more concerned to attach themselves where they think there is +most concealment and security, than anxious to obtain absolution for the +wickedness of which they do not repent. + +Repent, say you? said Saffredent. Nay, they deem themselves holier +than other women. I am sure that there are some who deem it honourable +in themselves that they are constant in such love. + +You speak in such a manner, said Oisille to Saffredent, that I think +you know of some one of that kind. I pray you, therefore, begin the Day +tomorrow by telling us what you know. But now the last bell for vespers +is already ringing; for our friends the monks went off as soon as they +had heard the tenth tale, and left us to finish our discussions among +ourselves. + +At these words they all rose and came to the church, where they found +the monks awaiting them. Then, after hearing vespers, they all supped +together, talking the while of many excellent stories. After supper they +went, according to their wont, to disport themselves somewhat in the +meadow, and then retired to rest, in order that their memories might be +the sounder on the morrow. + + +[Illustration: 099.jpg Tailpiece] + + + + +SEVENTH DAY. + +_On the Seventh Day relation is made of such as have done quite contrary +to their duty or desire_. + + + + +PROLOGUE. + +In the morning the Lady Oisille failed not to administer to them +wholesome nutriment, which she did by reading of the acts and virtuous +deeds of the glorious knights and apostles of Jesus Christ, as related +by St. Luke, telling them withal that these relations should suffice to +make them long for the return of such a time, and to make them weep +for the uncomeliness of this age as compared with that. When she had +sufficiently read and expounded to them the beginning of this excellent +book, she begged them to go to the church in such union as that in which +the Apostles were wont to pray, seeking of God the mercy which is never +refused to those who ask for it in faith. Her counsel was approved by +all, and they came to the church just as the Mass of the Holy Spirit +was beginning; this seemed to them very apt to the occasion, and they +hearkened to the service in great devotion. + +Afterwards they went to dinner, where they called to mind the apostolic +life, and took such great delight in it that it was as though their +undertaking had been forgotten. But Nomerfide, who was the youngest, +noticed this, and said, The Lady Oisille has made us so devout that we +are letting slip the hour at which we are wont to withdraw, in order to +make ready for the relating of our tales. + +Her words caused the whole company to rise, and, after they had been for +a while in their rooms, they failed not to repair to the meadow as on +the day before. When they were seated at their ease, the Lady Oisille +said to Saffredent, Although I am certain that you will say nothing to +the advantage of women, yet I must call upon you to tell the tale that +you had in readiness yester evening. + +I protest, madam, replied Saffredent, against winning the repute of +a slanderer through telling the truth, or losing the favour of virtuous +ladies through relating the deeds of the wanton. I have felt what it is +to lack their presence, and had I equally lacked their fair favours, I +had not been alive to-day. + +So saying, he turned his eyes away from her who was the cause of his +happiness and of his woe; and, looking upon Ennasuite, caused her to +blush as deeply as though his words had been directed to her. Yet was he +none the less understood by her whom he desired should understand him. +The Lady Oisille then assured him that he might freely speak the truth +at the cost of any person concerned; whereupon he thus began:-- + + +[Illustration: 105a. The Lady returning to her Lover, the Canon of Autun] + +[The Lady returning to her Lover, the Canon of Autun] + +[Illustration: 105.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXI_. + + _A husband is reconciled with his wife after she had lived + during fourteen or fifteen years with a Canon of Autun_. + +Near the town of Autun there lived a very beautiful woman, who was +tall, fair, and as handsome of feature as any I have ever seen. She was +married to an honest man who seemed somewhat younger than herself, and +who loved and treated her well enough to give her reason for content. + +A little while after they were married, he took her to the town of +Autun, where he had business; and while he was engaged with the law, his +wife would go to the church to pray God for him. + +She repaired so often to this holy place that a very rich Canon fell in +love with her, and wooed her so urgently that the unhappy creature gave +herself up to him. Her husband had no suspicion of this, however, for he +gave more thought to the guarding of his property than of his wife. + +When the time for departure was come, and they must needs return to +their home, which was full seven leagues from the town, great was the +womans sorrow. But the Canon promised that he would often go and see +her, and this he did, pretending to be making some journey which led +him past the house. The gentleman, however, was not so foolish as not to +perceive the truth, and he so skilfully contrived matters, that when the +Canon came thither he no longer met the wife, who was too well hidden +by her husband to allow of his having any speech with her. The wife, +knowing her husbands jealousy, gave no sign that this was displeasing +to her; nevertheless, she resolved to set things to rights, for she felt +herself as it were in hell, deprived as she was of the sight of her God. + +One day, when her husband was abroad, she found a means to occupy her +servants, both men and women, after such a fashion that she was left +alone in the house. Immediately, she took what was needful, and, with no +company save that of the wanton love she carried with her, she repaired +on foot to Autun. Here she arrived none too late to be recognised by her +Canon, who kept her shut up in hiding for more than a year, and this in +spite of the monitions and excommunications that were procured against +him by her husband. + +The latter, finding that he had no other remedy, at last complained to +the Bishop, who had an Archdeacon, as worthy a man as any at that time +in France. This Archdeacon himself searched with great diligence through +all the Canons houses, until he discovered the one in which the woman +was being kept in concealment, whereupon he cast her into prison, and +laid heavy penance upon the Canon. + +The husband, knowing that his wife had been recovered by the counsels of +the Archdeacon and divers other excellent persons, was content to take +her back on her swearing to him that she would live for the future as +beseemed a virtuous woman. + +This the worthy man in his deep love for her readily believed, and, +bringing her back to his house, he treated her as honourably as before, +except that he gave her two old serving-women who never left her, one or +other of them being at all times with her. + +But, however kindly her husband might use her, the wicked love she bore +towards the Canon caused her to regard all rest as torment. And although +she was a very beautiful woman and her husband a man of excellent +constitution, vigorous and strong, she never had any children by him, +her heart being always seven leagues away from her body; this, however, +she concealed so well that it seemed to her husband that, like himself, +she had wholly forgotten the past. + +But in her great wickedness she was not so minded; for, just when she +saw her husband most in love with her and having least suspicion, she +pretended to fall ill, and continued in this pretence until her husband +was in wondrous distress, and anxious to spare nought that might relieve +her. + +However, she played her part so exceedingly well that he, and all in the +house, thought that she was sick unto death, and was growing by degrees +weaker and weaker. Finding that her husband was no less grieved than he +should have been glad, she begged of him that he would authorise her to +make her will, and this with tears he did. + +Having power of bequest, although she had no children, she gave to her +husband what she could, craving at the same time his forgiveness for +her wrong-doing towards him. Then she sent for the priest, confessed +herself, and received the Holy Sacrament of the Altar with such +devoutness, that all wept to see so glorious an end. + +When the evening was come, she begged her husband to send for the +extreme unction, saying that, as she was growing very weak, she was in +fear lest she might not live to receive it. Her husband in all haste +caused it to be brought by the priest, and she, by receiving it with +very great humility, prompted every one to praise her. + +After she had got through her brave mysteries, she told her husband +that, having through Gods grace received all that the Church commands, +she felt great peace of conscience, and would fain take some rest; and +she begged him to do the like, seeing that he had great need of it after +all his weeping and watching with her. + +When her husband was gone, and all his servants with him, the poor old +women, who had so long watched her in health and now had no fear of +losing her except by death, went contentedly and comfortably to bed. As +soon as she heard them asleep and loudly snoring, she rose in nothing +but her shift, and went out of the room, listening to hear if any one +was yet astir in the house. Taking every precaution, she then (as she +well knew how) let herself out through a little garden-gate that was not +shut, and, barefooted and in her shift, journeyed all night long towards +Autun and the saint, who had preserved her from death. + +It happened, however, that as the distance was great, she could not +accomplish the whole of it before daylight overtook her. Looking then +all along the road, she perceived two horsemen who were galloping at +full speed, and thinking that it might be her husband in search of her, +she hid herself entirely in a marsh, with her head among the reeds. +As her husband (for he it was) passed close beside her, he spoke to a +servant who was with him, in tones of deep despair, saying-- + +Ah, the wicked woman! Who could have thought that so foul and +abominable a deed could be hidden under cloak of the holy sacraments of +the Church. + +If Judas, replied the servant, feared not to betray his Master when +he was receiving the like, a womans treachery is but small matter for +wonder. + +At this point the husband passed on, and his wife remained among the +rushes, in greater gladness at having deceived and escaped him than she +had ever felt at home in a good bed but in subjection. + +The poor husband sought her through all the town of Autun, but learning +for certain that she had not entered it, he retraced his steps, +complaining unceasingly of her and of his loss, and threatening her with +nothing short of death if he should find her. Of this she had as little +fear in her mind as she had of cold in her body, although the place and +season might well have caused her to repent of her evil journey. And any +one who did not know how the fire of hell inflames those that are filled +with it, must needs wonder how it was that this unhappy woman could so +leave a warm bed and continue for a whole day in the piercing cold. + +Yet she neither lost courage nor gave up the journey, but, as soon as +night was come, went forward once more. Just as the gate at Autun was +being closed, this pilgrim arrived thither and repaired straight to the +shrine of her saint, who was in great wonder at her coming, and could +scarcely believe that it was indeed she. But when he had carefully +looked at her and examined her at all points, he found that, unlike +a spirit, she was really possessed of bone and flesh, and so became +convinced that she was no ghost. + +And thenceforward they agreed so well together that she dwelt with the +Canon for fourteen or fifteen years. + +Although for a time she lived in concealment, in the end she lost all +fear, and (what is worse) became so exceedingly proud of her lover that +at church she would set herself before most of the honourable women of +the town, wives of officials and others. Moreover, she had children +by the Canon, and among others a daughter who was married to a rich +merchant, and who had so magnificent a wedding that all the women of +the town murmured exceedingly, yet were powerless to set the affair to +rights. + +Now it happened that at this time Queen Claude, wife of King Francis, +passed through the town of Autun, having with her my Lady the Regent, +mother of the King aforesaid, and the Duchess of Alenon, her daughter. +(1) One of the Queens waiting-women, named Perrette, came to the +Duchess and said-- + +Madam, I pray you listen to me, and you will do a better deed than if +you went to hear the whole days service at the church. + + 1 This would have occurred in the late autumn of 1515, when + the Court journeyed southward to meet Francis I. on his + return from the Marignano campaign.--Ed. + +The Duchess gave ready heed, knowing that nought but good counsel could +come from her. Then Perrette forthwith told her how she had taken a +young girl to help her in washing the Queens linen, and how, on asking +the news of the town, she had heard from her the vexation which all the +honourable women endured at seeing the Canons mistress go before them, +together with some of the history of the wicked womans life. + +The Duchess went immediately to the Queen and my Lady the Regent, and +told them the story; and they, without any form of law, sent for the +unhappy woman. The latter sought no concealment, for her shame was +turned to pride at being mistress in the household of so rich a man; and +hence, with no feeling of confusion or disgrace, she presented herself +before the ladies aforesaid, who were so abashed by her hardihood that +at first they knew not what to say. After a time, however, my Lady the +Regent rebuked her in a fashion which would have made a right-thinking +woman weep, though this unhappy creature did not do so, but with great +boldness said-- + +I pray you, ladies, let my honour go unscathed, for, God be praised, +I have lived so well and virtuously with the Canon that no person alive +can say aught against me. And let it not be thought that I am living in +opposition to the will of God, since, for three years past, the Canon +has not come near me, and we live together as chastely and as lovingly +as two little angels, without any speech or wish between us to the +contrary. And any one separating us will commit a great sin, for the +worthy man, who is nigh eighty years old, will not live long without me, +who am forty-five. + +You may imagine how the ladies then comported themselves, and what +remonstrance they all made with her; but, in spite of the words that +were spoken, and her own age, and the honourable indignation of those +present, her obstinacy was not softened. That she might be the more +effectually humbled, they sent for the good Archdeacon of Autun, and he +condemned her to lie in prison for a year, faring on bread and water. +The ladies further sent for her husband, and he, after hearing their +excellent exhortations, was content to take her back again after she +should have performed her penance. + +But when she found that she was a prisoner, and that the Canon was +resolved to have her back no more, she thanked the ladies for having +taken a devil off her shoulders, and showed such deep and perfect +contrition that her husband, instead of waiting until the year should +have expired, came and asked her of the Archdeacon before a fortnight +was over; and since then they have lived together in all peace and +affection. + +You see, ladies, how the chains of St. Peter are by wicked ministers +converted into those of Satan, which it is so hard to break that even +the sacraments, which cast out devils from the body, are here the means +of making them abide longer in the conscience; for the best things, when +abused, bring about most evil. + +Truly, said Oisille, this woman was a very wicked one, but at the +same time she was well punished by her appearance before such judges as +the ladies you have named. The mere glance of the Lady Regent had such +power that never was there a woman, however virtuous, that did not dread +being found unworthy in her sight. Those who were looked upon kindly by +her deemed that they had earned a high honour, knowing as they did that +none but virtuous women were favoured by her. (2) + + 2 We are asked to believe that Oisille is none other than + the Lady Regent (Louise of Savoy), but is it likely she + would thus speak of herself? We can scarcely conceive Queen + Margaret perpetrating such a flagrant anachronism.--Ed. + +It were indeed a fine thing, said Hircan, that there should be +greater dread of a womans eyes than of the Holy Sacrament, which, if it +be not received in faith and charity, brings with it eternal damnation. + +Those, said Parlamente, who are not inspired by God are, I promise +you, in greater dread of the temporal than of the spiritual powers. And +I believe that the poor creature was brought to mend her ways rather by +her imprisonment and the thought of seeing her Canon no more, than by +any remonstrance that might have been made to her. + +Nay, said Simontault, you have forgotten the chief cause of her +return to her husband, which was that the Canon was eighty years old, +whilst her husband was younger than herself; so the worthy lady had the +best of all her bargains. Had the Canon been young, she would not have +been willing to forsake him, and the admonitions of the ladies would +have been as ineffectual as the sacraments. + +Further, said Nomerfide, I think she did well not to confess her sin +so readily; such an offence ought to be humbly acknowledged to God, but +stoutly denied before men. Even though it be true, still, by deception +and swearing, doubt may be cast upon it. + +Not so, said Longarine. A sin can scarcely be so secret that it will +not become revealed, unless God in His pity conceal it, as in the case +of those who for love of Himself have truly repented. + +And what, said Hircan, will you say of those women who have no sooner +done a deed of folly than they tell some one about it? + +I think that a strange thing, answered Longarine, and a sign that sin +is not displeasing to them. If, as I said, a sin is not covered by +the mercy of God, it cannot be denied before men; there are many who, +delighting in such talk, glory to make their vices known, whilst others +who contradict themselves in this way become their own accusers. + +If you know any such instance, said Saffredent, I give you my place +and beg you to tell it us. + +Listen then, said Longarine. + + +[Illustration: 117.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 119a. The Gentlemans Spur catching in the Sheet] + +[The Gentlemans Spur catching in the Sheet] + +[Illustration: 119.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXII_. + + _A ladys tongue tripped so awkwardly whilst she was telling + a story, as if of another, to a dame of high degree, that + her honour thenceforward bore a stain which she could never + remove_. + +In the time of King Francis the First there lived a lady of the blood +royal, who was endowed with honour, virtue and beauty, and well knew how +to tell a story with grace and to laugh at such as might be told to +her. (1) This lady being at one of her houses, all her subjects and +neighbours came to see her; for she was as much liked as it were +possible for woman to be. + + 1 M. de Lincy thinks that this lady may be Louise of Savoy, + who was very fond of listening to stories of an equivocal + character. This, it may be pointed out, is one of the + reasons why the commentators of the _Heptameron_ suppose her + to be Oisille, though the latter in the conversational + passages following the tales displays considerable prudery + and devoutness. That Louise was a woman of extremely amorous + tendency is well known; we need, indeed, no better proof of + it than her unseemly passion for the Constable de Bourbon + when she was five-and-forty years of age. If she be the lady + of royal blood spoken of above, the incidents of the tale + may have occurred in the Bourbonnais, a considerable portion + of which passed into her hands after the flight of the + Constable from France. It will be noted that allusion is + made to the ladys subjects, showing that she exercised a + feudal sway. As one of the commentators of the _Heptameron_ + has pointed out, Queen Margaret always saw her mother--that + donna terribilissima! as De Lussy called her--in such an + ideal light that M. de Lincys surmise may well be a correct + one despite the attributes of honour, virtue and beauty + bestowed on the lady whom she speaks of.--Ed. + +Among others there came a lady who hearkened whilst the rest told every +story they could think of in order to amuse the Princess. This lady then +resolved that she would not be behind the others, and accordingly said-- + +Madam, I will tell you a fine story, but you must promise me not to +speak of it. + +Then she forthwith continued-- + +The story, madam, is on my conscience a perfectly true one, and +concerns a married lady who lived in all honour with her husband, +although he was old and she was young. A gentleman who was her +neighbour, seeing her married to this old man, fell in love with her, +and importuned her for several years; but never received of her any +reply save such as a virtuous woman should make. One day the gentleman +bethought him that if he could take her at a disadvantage she might +perchance be less harsh towards him, and, after he had for a long while +weighed the danger that he might run, his love for the lady wholly +banished his fears, and he resolved to find a time and place. He kept +excellent watch, and so one morning, when the ladys husband was going +to another of his houses, and leaving at daybreak by reason of the heat, +the young gallant came to the house, where he found the lady asleep in +her bed, and perceived that the serving-women were gone out of the room. + +Then, without having sense enough to fasten the door, he got into the +ladys bed all booted and spurred as he was, and when she awoke, she was +as distressed as she could possibly be. But in spite of any remonstrance +that she could make to him, he took her by force, saying that if she +should make the matter known he would tell every one that she had sent +for him; and at this the lady was so greatly afraid that she durst not +cry out. Afterwards, on some of her women coming in, he rose in haste +and would have been perceived by none if his spur, which had become +fastened in the upper sheet, had not drawn it right off, leaving the +lady quite naked in her bed. + +So far the lady had told the story as if of another, but at the end she +involuntarily said-- + +Never was a woman so confounded as I was, when I found myself lying +quite naked. + +At these last words the lady, who had hitherto hearkened to the story +without laughing, could not refrain from doing so, and said-- + +By what I can see, you are well qualified to tell the tale. + +The poor lady tried in every possible way to clear her honour, but it +was already flown so far away that she was never able to recall it. + +I assure you, ladies, that had she felt any deep displeasure in doing +such a deed, she would have desired to forget it. But, as I have told +you, sin will of itself be discovered before it could otherwise be +known, unless it be hidden by the mantle which, as David says, makes man +blessed. + +In good sooth, said Ennasuite, she was the greatest fool I have ever +heard of, to make the others laugh at her own expense. + +I do not deem it strange, said Parlamente, that the word should +follow the deed, for it is easier to say than to do. + +Why, said Geburon, what sin had she committed? She was asleep in her +bed, he threatened her with shame and death; Lucrce, who is so highly +praised, did just the same. + +That is true, said Parlamente, and I confess that there is none too +righteous to fall. But when one has felt great offence in the deed, the +same holds good of the recollection; and whereas Lucrce to efface the +latter killed herself, this foolish woman tried to make others laugh. + +Nevertheless, said Nomerfide, it seems that she was a virtuous woman, +seeing that she had been many times entreated but would never consent, +so that the gentleman must needs resort to treachery and force in order +to wrong her. + +What! said Parlamente. Do you think that a woman has answered for +her honour, when she gives herself up after refusing two or three times? +There would then be many virtuous women among those that are deemed the +opposite, for many of them have been known to refuse for a long while +those to whom their hearts had been given, some doing this through fear +for their honour, and others in order to make themselves still more +ardently loved and esteemed. No account, therefore, should be made of a +woman unless she stands firm to the end. But if a man refuse a beautiful +girl, do you regard that as great virtue? + +Truly, said Oisille, if a young and lusty man so refused, I should +hold it worthy of high praise, but none the less difficult of belief. + +Yet, said Dagoucin, I know one who refused to partake in amours that +were sought after by all his comrades. + +I pray you, said Longarine, take my place and tell us the tale, yet +remember that you must here utter the truth. + +I promise you, said Dagoucin, that I will tell it in all its +simplicity, without any colouring or disguise. + + +[Illustration: 124.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 125a. The King asking the Young Lord to join his Banquet] + +[The King asking the Young Lord to join his Banquet] + +[Illustration: 125.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXIII_. + + _A gentlemans refusal of an amour that was sought after by + all his comrades, was imputed to him as great virtue, and + his wife loved him and esteemed him in consequence far more + than before_. (1) + +In the city of Paris there lived four girls, of whom two were sisters, +and such was their beauty, youth and freshness, that they were run after +by all the gallants. A gentleman, however, who at that time held the +office of Provost of Paris (2) from the King, seeing that his master was +young, of an age to desire such company, so cleverly contrived matters +with all four of the damsels that each, thinking herself intended for +the King, agreed to what the aforesaid Provost desired. This was that +they should all of them be present at a feast to which he invited his +master. + + 1 This story, omitted by Boaistuau, was included in + Grugets edition of the _Heptameron_.--L. + + 2 This is John de la Barre, already alluded to in Tale I. + The _Journal dun Bourgeois de Paris_ tells us that he was + born in Paris of poor parents, and became a favourite of + Francis I., who appointed him Bailiff of the capital, + without requiring him to pay any of the dues attaching to + the office. From the roll of the royal household for 1522, + we also find that he was then a gentleman of the bed chamber + with 1200 _livres_ salary, master of the wardrobe (a post + worth 200 _livres_) and governor of the pages, for the board + and clothing of whom he received 5000 _livres_ annually. In + 1526 he became Provost as well as Bailiff of Paris, the two + offices then being amalgamated. He was further created Count + of Etampes, and acquired the lordship of Veretz, best + remembered by its associations with the murder of Paul Louis + Courier. La Barre fought at Pavia, was taken prisoner with + the King, and remained his constant companion during his + captivity. Several letters of his, dating from this period + and of great historical interest, are still extant; some of + them have been published by Champollion-Figeac (_Captivit + de Franois Ier_) and Gnin (_Lettres de Marguerite, &c_). + Under date 1533 (o. s.) the Bourgeois de Paris writes in + his _Journal_: At the beginning of March there died in + Paris, at the house of Monsieur Poncher, Monsieur le Prvost + de Paris, named de La Barre.... The King was then in Paris, + at his chateau of the Louvre, and there was great pomp at + the obsequies; and he was borne to his lordship of Veretz, + near Tours, that he might be buried there. Numerous + particulars concerning La Barre will also be found in M. de + Labordes _Comptes des Btiments du Roi au XVIeme Sicle_.-- + L. and Ed. + +He told the latter his plan, which was approved both by the Prince and +by two other great personages of the Court, all three agreeing together +to share in the spoil. + +While they were looking for a fourth comrade, there arrived a handsome +and honourable lord who was ten years younger than the others. He +was invited to the banquet, but although he accepted with a cheerful +countenance, in his heart he had no desire for it. For on the one part +he had a wife who was the mother of handsome children, and with whom he +lived in great happiness, and in such peacefulness that on no account +would he have had her suspect evil of him. And on the other hand he was +the lover of one of the handsomest ladies of her time in France, whom +he loved and esteemed so greatly that all other women seemed to him ugly +beside her. + +In his early youth, before he was married, he had found it impossible to +gaze upon and associate with other women, however beautiful they might +be; for he took more delight in gazing upon his sweetheart, and in +perfectly loving her, than in having all that another might have given +him. + +This lord, then, went to his wife and told her secretly of the +enterprise that his master had in hand, saying that he would rather die +than do what he had promised. For (he told her) just as there was no +living man whom he would not venture to attack in anger, although he +would rather die than commit a causeless and wilful murder unless his +honour compelled him to it; even so, unless driven by extreme love, such +as may serve to blind virtuous men, he would rather die than break his +marriage vow to gratify another. + +On hearing these words of his, and finding that so much honour dwelt +in one so young, his wife loved and esteemed him more than she had ever +done before, and inquired how he thought he might best excuse himself, +since Princes often frown on those who do not praise what they like. + +I have always heard, he replied, that a wise man has a journey or +a sickness in his sleeve for use in time of need. I have therefore +resolved that I will feign a grievous sickness four or five days +beforehand, and in this matter your countenance may render me true +service. + +Tis a worthy and holy hypocrisy, said his wife, and I will not fail +to serve you with the saddest face I can command; for he who can avoid +offending God and angering the Prince is fortunate indeed. + +As it was resolved, so was it done, and the King was very sorry to hear +from the wife of her husbands sickness. This, however, lasted no +long time; for, on account of certain business which arose, the King +disregarded his pleasure to attend to his duty, and betook himself away +from Paris. + +However, one day, remembering their unfinished undertaking, he said to +the young lord:-- + +We were very foolish to leave so suddenly without seeing the four girls +who are declared to be the fairest in my kingdom. + +I am very glad, replied the young lord, that you failed in the +matter, for I was in great fear that, by reason of my sickness, I should +be the only one to miss so pleasant an adventure. + +By reason of this answer the King never suspected the dissimulation of +the young lord, who was thenceforward loved by his wife more dearly than +he had ever been before. + +Hereupon Parlamente began to laugh, and could not hold from saying-- + +He would have loved his wife better if he had done this for love of her +alone. But in any case he is worthy of great praise. + +It seems to me, said Hircan, that it is no great merit in a man +to keep his chastity for love of his wife, inasmuch as there are many +reasons which in a manner compel him to do so. In the first place, God +commands it; his marriage vow binds him to it, and, further, surfeited +nature is not liable to temptation or desire as necessity is. But when +the unfettered love that a man bears towards a mistress of whom he has +no delight, and no other happiness save that of seeing her and speaking +with her, and from whom he often receives harsh replies--when this love +is so loyal and steadfast that nothing can ever make it change, I say +that such chastity is not simply praiseworthy but miraculous. + +Tis no miracle in my opinion, said Oisille, for when the heart is +plighted, nothing is impossible to the body. + +True, said Hircan; to bodies which have become those of angels. + +I do not speak only of those, said Oisille, who by the grace of God +are wholly transformed into Himself, but of the grosser spirits that +we see here below among men. And, if you give heed, you will find that +those who have set their hearts and affections upon seeking after the +perfection of the sciences, have forgotten not only the lust of the +flesh, but even the most needful matters, such as food and drink; for +so long as the soul is stirred within the body, so long does the flesh +continue as though insensible. Thence comes it that those who love +handsome, honourable and virtuous women have such happiness of spirit in +seeing them and speaking with them, that the flesh is lulled in all its +desires. Those who cannot feel this happiness are the carnally-minded, +who, wrapped in their exceeding fatness, cannot tell whether they have a +soul or not. But, when the body is in subjection to the spirit, it is +as though heedless of the failings of the flesh, and the beliefs of such +persons may render them insensible of the same. I knew a gentleman who, +to show that he loved his mistress more dearly than did any other man, +proved it to all his comrades by holding his bare fingers in the +flame of a candle. And then, with his eyes fixed upon his mistress, he +remained firm until he had burned himself to the bone, and yet said that +he had felt no hurt. + +Methinks, said Geburon, that the devil whose martyr he was ought to +have made a St. Lawrence of him; for there are few whose love-flame is +hot enough to keep them from fearing that of the smallest taper. But +if a lady had suffered me to endure so much hurt for her sake, I should +either have sought a rich reward or else have taken my love away from +her. + +So, said Parlamente, you would have your hour after the lady had +had hers? That was what was done by a gentleman of the neighbourhood +of Valencia in Spain, whose story was told to me by a captain, a right +worthy man. + +I pray you, madam, said Dagoucin, take my place and tell it us, for I +am sure that it must be a good one. + +This story, ladies, said Parlamente, will teach you both to think +twice when you are inclined to give a refusal and to lay aside the +thought that the present will always continue; and so, knowing that it +is subject to mutation, you will have a care for the time to come. + + +[Illustration: 132.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 133a. The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of +Valencia who had become a Monk] + +[The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of Valencia who had +become a Monk] + +[Illustration: 133.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXIV_. + + _After a lady had for the space of five or six years made + trial of the love that a certain gentleman bore her, she + desired to have a still stronger proof of it, and reduced + him to such despair that he turned monk, on which account + she was not able to win him back again when she would fain + have done so_. + +In the city of Valencia there lived a gentleman, who for the space of +five or six years had loved a lady so perfectly that the honour and +conscience of neither of them had taken any hurt; for his intent was +to have her as his wife, and this was reasonable, seeing that he was +handsome, rich and of good descent. But, before he became her lover, he +first inquired concerning her own mind, whereupon she declared herself +willing to marry according to the counsels of her kinsfolk. The +latter, being come together for the purpose, deemed the marriage a very +reasonable one provided that the maiden was herself disposed to it; but +she--whether because she thought to do better or because she wished to +hide her love for him---made some difficulty, and the company separated, +not without regret at having failed to conclude a match so well suited +to both parties. + +The most grieved of all was the poor gentleman, who would have borne +his misfortune with patience had he thought that the fault lay with the +kinsfolk and not with her; but he knew the truth, and the knowledge was +to him worse than death. So, without speaking to his sweetheart or to +any other person, he withdrew to his own house, and, after setting his +affairs in order, betook himself to a solitary spot, where he strove to +forget his love and change it wholly to that love of our Lord which were +truly a higher duty than the other. + +During this time he received no tidings of his mistress or her kindred, +and he therefore resolved that, since he had failed to obtain the +happiest life he could hope for, he would choose the most austere and +disagreeable that he could imagine. With this sad intent, which +might well have been called despair, he went and became a monk in the +monastery of St. Francis. This monastery was not far from the dwellings +of divers of his kinsfolk, who, on hearing of his desperate condition, +did all that in them lay to hinder his purpose; but this was so firmly +rooted in his heart that it was not possible to turn him from it. + +Nevertheless, as the source of his distemper was known to them, they +determined to seek the cure, and so repaired to her who was the cause +of his sudden devoutness. She was greatly astonished and grieved by this +mischance, for, in refusing for a time, she had thought only to test his +affection, not to lose it for ever. Seeing now the evident risk that she +ran of doing this last, she sent him a letter, which, ill-translated, +was as follows:-- + + Since love, if tested not full needfully, + Steadfast and faithful is not shown to be, + By length of time my heart would that assay + Whereon itself was set to love alway-- + To wit, a husband with that true love filled + Such as no lapsing time has ever killed. + This, then, was the sole reason that I drew + My kin to hinder for a year or two + That closest tie which lasts till life is not, + And whereby woe is oftentimes begot. + Yet sought I not to have you wholly sent + Away; such was in no wise my intent, + For none save you could I have eer adored + Or looked to as my husband and my lord. + But woe is me, what tidings reach mine ear! + That you, to lead the cloistered life austere, + Are gone with speech to none; whereat the pain + That ever holds me, now can brook no rein, + But forces me mine own estate to slight + For that which yours aforetime was of right; + To seek him out who once sought me alone, + And win him who myself has sometimes won. + Nay then, my love, life of the life in me, + For loss of whom I fain would cease to be, + Turn hither, graciously, those eyes of pain + And trace those wandering footsteps back again. + Leave the grey robe and its austerity, + Come back and taste of that felicity + Which often you desired, and which to-day + Time has nor slain, nor swept away. + For you alone Ive kept myself; and I, + Lacking your presence, cannot choose but die. + Come back then; in your sweetheart have belief, + And for past memories find cool relief + In holy marriage-ties. Ah! then, my dear, + To me, not to your pride give ready ear, + And rest of this assured, I had no thought + To give, sweetheart, to you offence in aught, + But only yearned your faithfulness to prove + And then to make you happy with my love. + But now that through this trial, free from scathe, + Are come your steadfastness and patient faith, + And all that loyal love to me is known, + Which at the last has made me yours alone, + Come, my beloved, take what is your due + And wholly yield to me, as I to you! + +This letter, brought by a friend of hers with every remonstrance that it +was possible to make, was received and read by the gentleman friar with +such sadness of countenance, such sighs and such tears, that it seemed +as though he would drown and burn the poor epistle. But he made no +reply to it, except to tell the messenger that the mortification of his +exceeding passion had cost him so dear as to have taken from him both +the wish to live and the fear to die. He therefore requested her who +had been the cause of this, that since she had not chosen to satisfy +his passionate longings, she would, now that he was rid of them, abstain +from tormenting him, and rest content with the evil which was past. For +that evil he could find no remedy but the choice of an austere life, +which by continual penance might bring him to forget his grief, and, by +fasts and disciplines, subdue his body, till the thought of death should +be to him but a sovereign consolation. Above all, he begged that he +might never hear of her, since he found the mere remembrance of her name +a purgatory not to be endured. + +The gentleman went back with this mournful reply, and reported it to the +maiden who did not hear it without intolerable sorrow. But Love, which +will not suffer the spirit utterly to fail, gave her the thought that, +if she could see him, her words and presence might be of more effect +than the writing. She therefore, with her father and the nearest of her +kin, went to the monastery where he abode. She had left nothing in her +box that might set off her beauty, for she felt sure that, could he but +once look at her and hear her, the fire that had so long dwelt in both +their hearts must of necessity be kindled again in greater strength than +before. + +Coming thus into the monastery towards the end of vespers, she sent for +him to come to her in a chapel that was in the cloister. He, knowing not +who it was that sought him, went in all ignorance to the sternest battle +in which he had ever been. When she saw him so pale and wan that she +could hardly recognise him, yet filled with grace, in no whit less +winning than of yore, Love made her stretch out her arms to embrace him, +whilst her pity at seeing him in such a plight so enfeebled her heart, +that she sank swooning to the floor. + +The poor monk, who was not void of brotherly charity, lifted her up and +set her upon a seat in the chapel. Although he had no less need of +aid than she had, he feigned to be unaware of her passion, and so +strengthened his heart in the love of God against the opportunities now +present with him, that, judging by his countenance, he seemed not to +know what was actually before him. Having recovered from her weakness, +she turned upon him her beautiful, piteous eyes, which were enough to +soften a rock, and began to utter all such discourse as she believed apt +to draw him from the place in which he now was. He replied as virtuously +as he was able; but at last, finding that his heart was being softened +by his sweethearts abundant tears, and perceiving that Love, the cruel +archer whose pains he long had known, was ready with his golden dart to +deal him fresh and more deadly wounds, he fled both from Love and from +his sweetheart, like one whose only resource lay, indeed, in flight. + +When he was shut up in his room, not desiring to let her go without some +settlement of the matter, he wrote her a few words in Spanish, which +seem to me so excellent in their matter that I would not by translating +them mar their grace. These were brought to her by a little novice, +who found her still in the chapel and in such despair that, had it been +lawful, she too would have remained there and turned friar. But when she +saw the words, which were these-- + + Volvete don venesti, anima mia, + Que en las tristas vidas es la mia, (1) + +she knew that all hope was gone, and she resolved to follow the advice +of him and her friends, and so returned home, there to lead a life as +melancholy as that of her lover in his monastery was austere. + + 1 Return whence thou earnest, my soul, + for among the sad lives is mine. + +You see, ladies, what vengeance the gentleman took upon his harsh +sweetheart, who, thinking to try him, reduced him to such despair that, +when she would have regained him, she could not do so. + +I am sorry, said Nomerfide, that he did not lay aside his gown and +marry her. It would, I think, have been a perfect marriage. + +In good sooth, said Simontault, I think he was very wise. Anyone who +well considers what marriage is will deem it no less grievous than +a monkish life. Moreover, being so greatly weakened by fasts and +abstinence, he feared to take upon him a burden of that kind which lasts +all through life. + +Methinks, said Hircan, she wronged so feeble a man by tempting him +to marriage, for tis too much for the strongest man alive; but had she +spoken to him of love, free from any obligation but that of the will, +there is no friars cord that would not have been untied. However, since +she sought to draw him out of purgatory by offering him hell, I think +that he was quite right to refuse her, and to let her feel the pain that +her own refusal had cost him. + +By my word, said Ennasuite, there are many who, thinking to do better +than their fellows, do either worse or else the very opposite of what +they desire. + +Truly, said Geburon, you remind me--though, indeed, the matter is +not greatly to the point--of a woman who did the opposite of what she +desired, and so caused a great uproar in the church of St. John of +Lyons. + +I pray you, said Parlamente, take my place and tell us about it. + +My story, said Geburon, will not be so long or so piteous as the one +we have heard from Parlamente. + + +[Illustration: 141.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 143a. The Old Woman startled by the Waking of the Soldier] + +[The Old Woman startled by the Waking of the Soldier] + +[Illustration: 143.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXV_. + + _Though the priests of St. John of Lyons would fain have + concealed it, the falsity of a miracle was brought to light + through an old womans folly becoming known_. (1) + +In the church of St. John of Lyons there is a very dark chapel, and +inside it a stone tomb with figures of great personages raised life-like +upon it, whilst several men-at-arms lie all around it. + + 1 We believe that the incident here narrated occurred early + in 1525, when Margaret is known to have been at Lyons. She + and her husband (on his return from Pavia) resided there at + the house of the Obdiencier de St. Just, and it was in the + church of St. Just that the Duke of Alenon was buried. + Doubtless it was during his illness that the _novena_ + alluded to in the final tale of the _Heptameron_ was + performed by Queen Margaret at the church of St. John of + Lyons, where the two most important chapels, according to + Quincarnons _Antiquits et la fondation de la Mtropole + des Gaules, &c._, Lyons, 1673, were the Most Holy Eucharist, + or Bourbon chapel, built in 1449 by Charles de Bourbon, + Primate of Gaul, and the Holy Sepulchre, or Good Friday + chapel, erected at the beginning of the fifteenth century by + Philip de Turey, Archbishop of Lyons. Unfortunately the + church of St. John was in 1652 devastated by the Huguenots, + who in their insensate fury destroyed almost all the tombs. + It is therefore now impossible to identify the chapel and + tomb to which the Queen of Navarre refers in the above + story, though her allusion to the dimness of the light would + incline us to place the incident she recounts in the + Chapelle du St. Spulcre.--L. and Ed. + +One day a soldier, walking in the church at the very height of summer, +felt inclined to sleep, and, looking at this dark, cool chapel, resolved +to go and guard the tomb in sleep like the rest; (2) and accordingly he +lay down beside them. Now it chanced that a very pious old woman came +in while his sleep was the soundest, and having performed her devotions, +holding a lighted taper in her hand, she sought to fix this taper to the +tomb. Finding that the sleeping man was nearest to her, she tried to set +it upon his forehead, thinking that it was of stone; but the wax would +not stick to such stone as this, whereupon the worthy dame, believing +that the reason of it was the coldness of the statue, applied the flame +to the sleepers forehead, that she might the better fix the taper on +it. At this, however, the statue, which was not without feeling, began +to cry out. + + 2 Meaning the recumbent statues of the men-at-arms.--Ed. + +The good woman was then in exceeding fear, and set herself to shout, A +miracle! a miracle! until all who were in the church ran, some to ring +the bells, and the rest to view the miracle. The good woman forthwith +took them to see the statue that had stirred, whereupon many found food +for laughter; though the greater number were unable to feel any content, +inasmuch as they had really determined to make profit out of the tomb, +and to gain as much money by it as by the crucifix on their pulpit, +which is said to have spoken. (3) But when the womans folly became +known the farce came to an end. If all knew of their follies, they would +not be accounted holy nor their miracles true. And I would beg you, +ladies, to see henceforward to what saints you offer your candles. (4) + + 3 The crucifix in the church of St. John was mainly of + silver, and, according to Quincarnon, at the time of a + Huguenot outbreak at Lyons it was thrown to the ground by a + Calvinist minister named Ruffy, who, after reducing it to + fragments, carried all the precious metal away with him.--M. + + 4 The latter portion of this story and all the dialogue + that follows it are omitted by Boaistuau in his edition. + Gruget inserted the dialogue, but he did not dare to print + the passage respecting the talking crucifix.--L. + +Tis notable, said Hircan, that, whatever the matter in question may +be, women always do wrong. + +Is it wrong, asked Nomerfide, to bring candles to a tomb? + +Yes, said Hircan, if the flame be turned against a mans forehead; +for nothing good should be called good if it be attended with evil. You +may be sure that the poor woman thought she had made a fine gift to God +with her little candle. + +I look not to the gift, said Oisille, but to the heart that offers +it. Perhaps this worthy woman had more love for God than those who offer +great torches; for, as the Gospel says, she gave of her need. + +Still, I no not believe, said Saffredent, that God, who is sovereign +wisdom, can be pleased with the foolishness of women. Although +simplicity is pleasing to Him, I see from the Scriptures that He +despises the ignorant; and if He commands us to be as harmless as the +dove, He none the less commands us to be wise like the serpent. + +For my part, said Oisille, I do not call the woman ignorant who +brings her candle or burning taper into the presence of God, and makes +amends for her wrongdoing on bended knees before her sovereign Lord, +confessing her unworthiness and with steadfast hope seeking pity and +salvation. + +Would to God, said Dagoucin, that all understood it in the same way +as you; but I do not believe that these poor fools do it with the intent +you say. + +The women, said Oisille, who are least able to speak are just those +who are most sensible of the love and will of God; wherefore tis well +to judge none but ourselves. + +Ennasuite laughed and said--Tis no wonderful thing to have frightened +a sleeping varlet, since women of as lowly condition have frightened +noble Princes, without putting fire to their foreheads. + +I am sure, said Geburon, that you know some such story, which you +are willing to relate; wherefore, if it please you, you shall take my +place. + +The tale will not be a long one, said Ennasuite, but, could I recount +it just as it happened, you would have no desire to weep. + + +[Illustration: 147.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 149a. The Old Serving-woman explaining her Mistake to +the Duke and Duchess of Vendme] + +[The Old Serving-woman explaining her Mistake to the Duke and Duchess +of Vendme] + +[Illustration: 149.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXVI_. + + _The Duke of Vendme and the Princess of Navarre, whilst + resting together one afternoon, were surprised by an old + serving-woman, who took them for a prothonotary and a damsel + between whom she suspected some affection; and, through this + fine justicement, a matter, of which intimates were + ignorant, was made known to strangers_. + +In the year when the Duke of Vendme married the Princess of Navarre, +(1) the King and Queen, their parents, after feasting at Vendme, went +with them into Guienne, and, visiting a gentlemans house where there +were many honourable and beautiful ladies, the newly married pair +danced so long in this excellent company that they became weary, and, +withdrawing to their chamber, lay down in their clothes upon the bed and +fell asleep, doors and windows being shut and none remaining with them. + + 1 It was in October 1548, some eighteen months after Henry + II. had succeeded Francis I., that Anthony de Bourbon, Duke + of Vendme, who after the Kings children held the first + rank in France, was married at Moulins to Margarets + daughter Jane of Navarre. The Duke was then thirty and Jane + twenty years old. I never saw so joyous a bride, wrote + Henry II. to Montmorency, she never does anything but + laugh. She was indeed well pleased with the match, the + better so, perhaps, as her husband had settled 100,000 + livres on her, a gift which was the more acceptable by + reason of her extravagant tastes and love of display. Ste. + Marthe, in his _Oraison Funbre_ on Queen Margaret, speaks + of her daughters marriage as a most fortunate + conjunction, and refers to her son-in-law as the most + valiant and magnanimous Prince Anthony, Duke of Vendme, + whose admirable virtues have so inclined all France to love + and revere him, that princes and nobles, the populace, the + great and the humble alike, no sooner hear his name + mentioned than they forthwith wish him and beg God to bestow + on him all possible health and prosperity.--Ed + +Just, however, when their sleep was at its soundest, they were awakened +by their door being opened from without, and the Duke drew the curtain +and looked to see who it might be, suspecting indeed that it was one of +his friends who was minded to surprise him. But he perceived a tall, old +bed-chamber woman come in and walk straight up to their bed, where, for +the darkness of the room, she could not recognise them. Seeing them, +however, quite close together, she began to cry out-- + +Thou vile and naughty wanton! I have long suspected thee to be what +thou art, yet for lack of proof spoke not of it to my mistress. But now +thy vileness is so clearly shown that I shall in no sort conceal it; and +thou, foul renegade, who hast wrought such shame in this house by the +undoing of this poor wench, if it were not for the fear of God, I would +een cudgel thee where thou liest. Get up, in the devils name, get up, +for methinks even now thou hast no shame. + +The Duke of Vendme and the Princess hid their faces against each other +in order to have the talk last longer, and they laughed so heartily that +they were not able to utter a word. Finding that for all her threats +they were not willing to rise, the serving-woman came closer in order to +pull them by the arms. Then she at once perceived both from their faces +and from their dress that they were not those whom she sought, and, +recognising them, she flung herself upon her knees, begging them to +pardon her error in thus robbing them of their rest. + +But the Duke of Vendme was not content to know so little, and rising +forthwith, he begged the old woman to say for whom she had taken them. +This at first she was not willing to do; but at last, after he had sworn +to her never to reveal it, she told him that there was a girl in the +house with whom a prothonotary (2) was in love, and that she had long +kept a watch on them, since it pleased her little to see her mistress +trusting in a man who was working this shame towards her. She then left +the Prince and Princess shut in as she had found them, and they laughed +for a long while over their adventure. And, although they afterwards +told the story they would never name any of the persons concerned. + + 2 The office of apostolic prothonotary was instituted by + Pope Clement I., there being at first twelve such officers, + whose duty was to write the lives of the saints and other + apostolic records. Gradually their number so increased, that + in the fifteenth century the title of prothonotary had come + to be merely an honorary dignity, conferred as a matter of + course on doctors of theology of noble family, or otherwise + of note. In the role of Francis I.s household for 1522, we + find but one prothonotary mentioned, but in that for 1529 + there are twelve. More than one of them might have been + called _un letrado que no tenia muchas letras_, as Brantme + wrote of Thomas de Lescun, Prothonotary of Foix and + afterwards Marshal of France. In those days, adds the + author of _Les Grands Capitaines Franais_, it was usual + for prothonotaries and even for those of good family not to + have much learning, but to enjoy themselves, hunt, make love + and seduce the wives of the poor gentlemen who were gone to + the wars.--_OEuvres compltes de Brantme_, 8vo edit., vol. + ii. p. 144.--L. and Ed. + +You see, ladies, how the worthy dame, whilst thinking to do a fine deed +of justice, made known to strange princes a matter of which the servants +of the house had never heard. + +I think I know, said Parlamente, in whose house it was, and who the +prothonotary is; for he has governed many a ladys house, and when he +cannot win the mistresss favour he never fails to have that of one of +the maids. In other matters, however, he is an honourable and worthy +man. + +Why do you say in other matters? said Hircan. Tis for that very +behaviour that I deem him so worthy a man. + +I can see, said Parlamente, that you know the sickness and the +sufferer, and that, if he needed excuse, you would not fail him as +advocate. Yet I would not trust myself to a man who could not contrive +his affairs without having them known to the serving-women. + +And do you imagine, said Nomerfide, that men care whether such a +matter be known if only they can compass their end? You may be sure +that, even if none spoke of it but themselves, it would still of +necessity be known. + +They have no need, said Hircan angrily, to say all that they know. + +Perhaps, she replied, blushing, they would not say it to their own +advantage. + +Judging from your words, said Simontault, it would seem that men +delight in hearing evil spoken about women, and I am sure that you +reckon me among men of that kind. I therefore greatly wish to speak well +of one of your sex, in order that I may not be held a slanderer by all +the rest. + +I give you my place, said Ennasuite, praying you withal to control +your natural disposition, so that you may acquit yourself worthily in +our honour. + +Forthwith Simontault began-- + +Tis no new thing, ladies, to hear of some virtuous act on your part +which, methinks, should not be hidden but rather written in letters +of gold, that it may serve women as an example, and give men cause for +admiration at seeing in the weaker sex that from which weakness is prone +to shrink. I am prompted, therefore, to relate something that I heard +from Captain Robertval and divers of his company. + + +[Illustration: 154.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 155a. The Wife Reading to her Husband on the Desert Island] + +[The Wife Reading to her Husband on the Desert Island] + +[Illustration: 155.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXVII_. + + _A poor woman risked her own life to save that of her + husband, whom she forsook not until death_. + +The Captain Robertval aforesaid once made a voyage across the seas +to the island of Canadas, (1) himself being chief in command by the +appointment of the King, his master. And there, if the air of the +country were good, he had resolved to dwell and to build towns and +castles. With this work he made such a beginning as is known to all; +and to people the country with Christians he took with him all kinds of +artificers, among whom was a most wicked man, who betrayed his master +and put him in danger of being captured by the natives. But God willed +that his attempt should be discovered before any evil befell the +Captain, who, seizing the wicked traitor, was minded to punish him as +he deserved. And this he would have done but for the mans wife, who had +followed her husband through the perils of the deep and would not now +leave him to die, but with many tears so wrought upon the Captain and +all his company that, for pity of her and for the sake of the services +she had done them, her request was granted. In consequence, husband and +wife were left together on a small island in the sea, inhabited only +by wild beasts, and were suffered to take with them such things as were +needful. + + 1 Canada had been discovered by Cabot in 1497; and in 1535 + James Cartier sailed up the St. Lawrence and, taking + possession of the country in the name of Francis I., called + it La Nouvelle France. Seven years later a gentleman of + Picardy, named John Francis de La Roque, Lord of Robertval, + accompanying Cartier, established a colony on the Isle + Royale, and subsequently built the fort of Charlebourg. One + of his pilots, named Alphonse of Saintonge, meanwhile + reconnoitred the coasts both of Canada and Labrador. About + this time (1542) the incidents related in the above tale + must have occurred.--L. + +The poor folk, finding themselves all alone and surrounded by wild and +cruel beasts, had no recourse but to God, who had ever been this poor +womans steadfast hope; and, since she found all her consolation in Him, +she carried the New Testament with her for safeguard, nourishment and +consolation, and in it read unceasingly. Further, she laboured with her +husband to make them a little dwelling as best they might, and when the +lions (2) and other animals came near to devour them, the husband with +his arquebuss and she with stones made so stout a defence that not only +were the beasts afraid to approach, but often some were slain that were +very good for food. And on this flesh and the herbs of the land, they +lived for some time after their bread failed them. + + 2 This mention of lions on a small desert island in the + Canadian seas would be rather perplexing did we not know how + great at that time was the general ignorance on most matters + connected with natural history. Possibly the allusion may be + to the _lion marin_, as the French call the leonine seal. + This, however, is anything but an aggressive animal. + Curiously enough, Florimond de Rmond, the sixteenth century + writer, speaks of a drawing of a marine lion given to him + by that most illustrious lady Margaret Queen of Navarre, to + whom it had been presented by a Spanish gentleman, who was + taking a second copy of it to the Emperor Charles V., then + in Spain.--Ed. + +At last, however, the husband could no longer endure this nutriment, +and by reason of the waters that they drank became so swollen that in +a short while he died, and this without any service or consolation save +from his wife, she being both his doctor and his confessor; and when +he had joyously passed out of the desert into the heavenly country, the +poor woman, left now in solitude, buried him in the earth as deeply as +she was able. Nevertheless the beasts quickly knew of it, and came to +eat the dead body; but the poor woman, firing with the arquebuss from +her cabin, saved her husbands flesh from finding such a grave. + +Leading thus in regard to her body the life of a brute, and in regard +to her soul the life of an angel, she passed her time in reading, +meditations, prayers and orisons, having a glad and happy mind in a +wasted and half-dead body. But He who never forsakes His own, and who +manifests His power when others are in despair, did not suffer the +virtue that he had put into this woman to be unknown by men, but willed +that it should be made manifest to His own glory. He therefore brought +things so to pass, that after some time, when one of the ships of the +armament was passing by the island, those that were looking that way +perceived some smoke, which reminded them of the persons who had been +left there, and they resolved to go and see what God had done with them. + +The poor woman, seeing the ship draw nigh, dragged herself to the shore, +and there they found her on their arrival. After giving praise to God, +she brought them to her poor cottage and showed them on what she had +lived during her abode in that place. This would have seemed to them +impossible of belief, but for their knowledge that God is as powerful to +feed His servants in a desert as at the greatest banquet in the world. +As the poor woman could not continue in such a spot, they took her with +them straight to La Rochelle, where, their voyage ended, they arrived. +And when they had made known to the inhabitants the faithfulness and +endurance of this woman, she was very honourably received by all the +ladies, who gladly sent their daughters to her to learn to read and +write. In this honest calling she maintained herself for the rest of +her life, having no other desire save to admonish every one to love and +trust Our Lord, and setting forth as an example the great compassion +that He had shown towards her. + +Now, ladies, you cannot say I do not praise the virtues which God +has given you, and which show the more when possessed by one of lowly +condition. + +Why, we are not sorry, said Oisille, to hear you praise the mercies +of Our Lord, for in truth all virtue comes from Him; but we must confess +that man assists in the work of God as little as women. Neither can by +heart or will do more than plant. God alone giveth the increase. + +If you have studied Scripture, said Saffredent, you know that St. +Paul says that Apollos planted and he himself watered; (3) but he does +not speak of women as having set hand to the work of God. + + 3 The text is just the contrary: I have planted, Apollos + watered; but God gave the increase.--I _Corinthians_ iii. + 6.--Ed. + +You would follow, said Parlamente, the opinion of those wicked men +who take a passage of Scripture that is in their favour and leave one +that is against them. If you had read St. Paul to the end, you would +have found that he commends himself to the ladies, who greatly laboured +with him in the work of the Gospel. + +However that may be, said Longarine, the woman in the story is well +worthy of praise both for the love she bore her husband, on whose behalf +she risked her own life, and for the faith she had in God, who, as we +see, did not forsake her. + +I think, said Ennasuite, as far as the first is concerned, that there +is no woman present but would do as much to save her husbands life. + +I think, said Parlamente, that some husbands are such brutes that the +women who live with them should not find it strange to live among their +fellows. + +Ennasuite, who took these words to herself, could not refrain from +saying-- + +Provided the beasts did not bite me, their company would be more +pleasant to me than that of men, who are choleric and intolerable. But I +abide by what I have said, that, if my husband were in a like danger, I +should not leave him to die. + +Beware, said Nomerfide, of loving too fondly, for excess of love will +deceive both him and you. There is a medium in all things, and through +lack of knowledge love often gives birth to hate. + +Methinks, said Simontault, you have not carried your discourse so far +without having an instance to confirm it. If, then, you know such a one, +I give you my place that you may tell it to us. + +Well, said Nomerfide, the tale shall, as is my wont, be a short and a +merry one. + + +[Illustration: 161.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 163a. The Apothecarys Wife giving the Dose of Cantharides +to her Husband] + +[The Apothecarys Wife giving the Dose of Cantharides to her Husband] + +[Illustration: 163.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXVIII_. + + _An apothecarys wife, finding that her husband made no + great account of her, and wishing to be better loved by him, + followed the advice that he had given to a commre (1) of + his, whose sickness was of the same kind as her own; but she + prospered not so well as the other, and instead of love + reaped hate_. + + 1 Mr W. Kelly has pointed out (Bohns _Heptameron_, p. 395) + that in France the godfather and godmother of a child are + called in reference to each other compre and commre, terms + implying mutual relations of an extremely friendly kind. The + same usage exists in all Catholic countries, adds Mr Kelly, + and one of the novels of the _Decameron_ is founded on a + very general opinion in Italy that an amorous connection + between a _compadre_ and his _commadre_ partook almost of + the nature of incest. + +In the town of Pau in Beam there was an apothecary whom men called +Master Stephen. He had married a virtuous wife and a thrifty, with +beauty enough to content him. But just as he was wont to taste different +drugs, so did he also with women, that he might be the better able to +speak of all kinds. His wife was greatly tormented by this, and at +last lost all patience; for he made no account of her except by way of +penance during Holy Week. + +One day when the apothecary was in his shop, and his wife had hidden +herself behind him to listen to what he might say, a woman, who was +commre to the apothecary, and was stricken with the same sickness as +his own wife, came in, and, sighing, said to him-- + +Alas, good godfather, I am the most unhappy woman alive. I love my +husband better than myself, and do nothing but think of how I may serve +and obey him; but all my labour is wasted, for he prefers the wickedest, +foulest, vilest woman in the town to me. So, godfather, if you know of +any drug that will change his humour, prithee give it me, and, if I be +well treated by him, I promise to reward you by all means in my power. + +The apothecary, to comfort her, said that he knew of a powder which, if +she gave it to her husband with his broth or roast, after the fashion +of Dukes powder, (2) would induce him to entertain her in the best +possible manner. The poor woman, wishing to behold this miracle, asked +him what the powder was, and whether she could have some of it. He +declared that there was nothing like powder of cantharides, of which +he had a goodly store; and before they parted she made him prepare +this powder, and took as much of it as was needful for her purpose. And +afterwards she often thanked the apothecary, for her husband, who was +strong and lusty, and did not take too much, was none the worse for it. + + 2 Boaistuau and Gruget call this preparation _poudre de + Dun_, as enigmatical an appellation as _poudre de Duc_. As + for the specific supplied by the apothecary, the context + shows that this was the same aphrodisiac as the Marquis de + Sades put to such a detestable use at Marseilles in 1772, + when, after fleeing from justice, he was formally sentenced + to death, and broken, in effigy, upon the wheel. See P. + Lacroixs _Curiosits de lhistoire de France, IIme Srie_, + Paris, 1858.--Ed. + +The apothecarys wife heard all this talk, and thought within herself +that she had no less need of the recipe than her husbands commre. + Observing, therefore, the place where her husband put the remainder of +the powder, she resolved that she would use some of it when she found +an opportunity; and this she did within three or four days. Her husband, +who felt a coldness of the stomach, begged her to make him some good +soup, but she replied that a roast with Dukes powder would be better +for him; whereupon he bade her go quickly and prepare it, and take +cinnamon and sugar from the shop. This she did, not forgetting also to +take the remainder of the powder given to the commre, without any +heed to dose, weight or measure. + +The husband ate the roast, and thought it very good. Before long, +however, he felt its effects, and sought to soothe them with his wife, +but this he found was impossible, for he felt all on fire, in such wise +that he knew not which way to turn. He then told his wife that she had +poisoned him, and demanded to know what she had put into the roast. She +forthwith confessed the truth, telling him that she herself required the +recipe quite as much as his commre. By reason of his evil plight, +the poor apothecary could belabour her only with hard words; however, +he drove her from his presence, and sent to beg the Queen of Navarres +apothecary (3) to come and see him. This the Queens apothecary did, and +whilst giving the other all the remedies proper for his cure (which in +a short time was effected) he rebuked him very sharply for his folly +in counselling another to use drugs that he was not willing to take +himself, and declared that his wife had only done her duty, inasmuch as +she had desired to be loved by her husband. + + 3 It was from her apothecary no doubt that Queen Margaret + heard this story.--Ed. + +Thus the poor man was forced to endure the results of his folly in +patience, and to own that he had been justly punished in being brought +into such derision as he had proposed for another. + +Methinks, ladies, this womans love was as indiscreet as it was great. + +Do you call it loving her husband, said Hircan, to give him pain for +the sake of the delight that she herself looked to have? + +I believe, said Longarine, she only desired to win back her husbands +love, which she deemed to have gone far astray; and for the sake of such +happiness there is nothing that a woman will not do. Nevertheless, + said Geburon, a woman ought on no account to make her husband eat or +drink anything unless, either through her own experience or that +of learned folk, she be sure that it can do him no harm. Ignorance, +however, must be excused, and hers was worthy of excuse; for the most +blinding passion is love, and the most blinded of persons is a woman, +since she has not strength enough to conduct so weighty a matter +wisely. + +Geburon, said Oisille, you are departing from your own excellent +custom so as to make yourself of like mind with your fellows; but there +are women who have endured love and jealousy in patience. + +Ay, said Hircan, and pleasantly too; for the most sensible are those +who take as much amusement in laughing at their husbands doings, as +their husbands take in secretly deceiving them. If you will make it +my turn, so that the Lady Oisille may close the day, I will tell you a +story about a wife and her husband who are known to all of us here. + +Begin, then, said Nomerfide; and Hircan, laughing, began thus:-- + + +[Illustration: 168.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 169a. The Wife discovering her Husband in the Hood of +their Serving-maid] + +[The Wife discovering her Husband in the Hood of their Serving-maid] + +[Illustration: 169.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXIX_. + + _On finding her husband bolting meal in the garb of her + serving-woman, whom he was awaiting in the hope that he + would obtain from her what he desired, a certain lady showed + such good sense that she was content to laugh and make merry + at his folly_. + +At the castle of Odoz (1) in Bigorre, there dwelt one Charles, equerry +to the King and an Italian by birth, who had married a very virtuous +and honourable woman. After bearing him many children, she was now +grown old, whilst he also was not young. And he lived with her in all +peacefulness and affection, for although he would at times speak with +his serving-women, his excellent wife took no notice of this, but +quietly dismissed them whenever she found that they were becoming too +familiar in her house. + + 1 The scene of this tale is laid at the castle where + Margaret died. Ste. Marthe in his _Oraison funbre_, + pronounced at Alenon fifteen days after the Queens death, + formally states that she expired at Odos near Tarbes. He is + not likely to have been mistaken, so that Brantomes + assertion that the Queen died at Audos in Beam may be + accepted as incorrect (_ante_, vol. i. p. lxxxviii.). It is + further probable that the above tale was actually written at + Odos (_ante_, vol. i. p. lxxxvi.), but the authenticity of + the incidents is very doubtful, as there is an extremely + similar story in the _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_ (No, xvii. + _Le Conseiller au bluteau_), in which the hero of the + adventure is a great clerk and knight who presided over the + Court of Accounts in Paris. For subsequent imitations see + Malespinis _Ducento Novelle_ (No. xcvii.) and _Les Joyeuses + Adventures et Nouvelles Recreations_ (No. xix.)--L. and Ed. + +One day she hired a discreet and worthy girl, telling her of her +husbands temper and her own, and how she was wont to turn away such +girls whom she found to be wantons. This maid, wishing to continue in +her mistresss service and esteem, resolved to remain a virtuous woman; +and although her master often spoke to her, she on her part gave no heed +to his words save that she repeated them to her mistress, and they thus +both derived much diversion from his folly. + +One day the maid was in a back room bolting meal, and wearing her +sarot, a kind of hood which, after the fashion of that country, not +only formed a coif but covered the whole of the back and shoulders. Her +master, finding her in this trim, came and urged her very pressingly, +and, although she would not have done such a thing even to save her +life, she pretended to consent, and asked leave to go first and see +whether her mistress was engaged in some such manner that they might not +be surprised together. To this he agreed; whereupon she begged him to +put her hood upon his head and to continue bolting whilst she was away, +in order that her mistress might still hear the noise of the bolter. And +this he gladly did, in the hope of obtaining what he sought. + +The maid, who was by no means inclined to melancholy, ran off to her +mistress and said to her-- + +Come and see your good husband, whom I have taught to bolt in order to +be rid of him. + +The wife made all speed to behold this new serving-woman, and when she +saw her husband with the hood upon his head and the bolter in his hands, +she began to laugh so exceedingly, clapping her hands the while, that +she was scarce able to say to him-- + +How much dost want a month, wench, for thy labour? + +The husband, on hearing this voice, realised that he had been deceived, +and, throwing down both what he was holding and wearing, he ran at the +girl, calling her a thousand bad names. Had his wife not set herself in +front of the maid, he would have given her wage enough for her quarter; +but at last all was settled to the content of the parties concerned, and +thenceforward they lived together without quarrelling. (2) + + 2 The Italian Charles, equerry to the King, to whom the + leading part is assigned in Queen Margarets tale, may have + been Charles de San Severino, who figures among the + equerries with a salary of 200 _livres_, in the roll of the + royal household for 1522. The San Severino family, one of + the most prominent of Naples, had attached itself to the + French cause at the time of the expedition of Charles VIII., + whom several of its members followed to France. In 1522 we + find a Monsieur de Saint-Severin holding the office of + first _matre dhtel_ to Francis I., and over a course of + several years his son figures among the _enfants + dhonneur_.--B. J. and Ed. + +What say you, ladies, of this wife? Was she not sensible to make sport +of her husbands sport? + +Twas no sport, said Saffredent, for the husband who failed in his +purpose. + +I believe, said Ennasuite, that he had more delight in laughing with +his wife, than at killing himself at his age with his serving-woman. + +Still, I should be sorely vexed, said Simontault, to be discovered so +bravely coifed. + +I have heard, said Parlamente, that it was not your wifes fault that +she did not once discover you in very much the same attire in spite of +all your craft, and that since then she has known no repose. + +Rest content with what befalls your own house, said Simontault, +without inquiring into what befalls mine. Nevertheless, my wife has no +reason to complain of me, and even did I act as you say, she would never +have occasion to notice it through any lack of what she might need. + +Virtuous women, said Longarine, require nothing but the love of +their husbands, which alone can satisfy them. Those who seek a brutish +satisfaction will never find it where honour enjoins. + +Do you call it brutish, asked Geburon, if a wife desires that her +husband should give her her due? + +I say, said Longarine, that a chaste woman, whose heart is filled +with true love, is more content to be perfectly loved than to have all +the delights that the body can desire. + +I am of your opinion, said Dagoucin, but my lords here will neither +hear it nor confess it. I think if mutual love cannot satisfy a woman, +her husband alone will not do so; for unless she live in the love +that is honourable for a woman, she must be tempted by the infernal +lustfulness of brutes. + +In truth, said Oisille, you remind me of a lady who was both handsome +and well wedded, but who, through not living in that honourable love, +became more carnal than swine and more cruel than lions. + +I ask you, madam, said Simontault, to end the day by telling us her +story. + +That I cannot do, said Oisille, and for two reasons. The first is +that it is exceedingly long; and the second, that it does not belong to +our own day. It is written indeed by an author worthy of belief; but we +are sworn to relate nothing that has been written. + +That is true, said Parlamente; but I believe I know the story you +mean, and it is written in such old language that methinks no one +present except ourselves has ever heard of it. It will therefore be +looked upon as new. + +Upon this the whole company begged her to tell it without fear for its +length, seeing that a full hour was yet left before vespers. So, at +their request, the Lady Oisille thus began:-- + + +[Illustration: 174.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 175a. The Gentleman Killing Himself on the Death of his Mistress] + +[The Gentleman Killing Himself on the Death of his Mistress] + +[Illustration: 175.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXX_. + + _The Duchess of Burgundy, not content with the love that her + husband bore her, conceived so great an affection for a + young gentleman that, when looks and glances were not + sufficient to inform him of her passion, she declared it to + him in words which led to an evil ending_. (1) + + 1 This story is borrowed from an old _fabliau_, known under + the title of the _Chtelaine de Vergy_, which will be found + in the _Recueil de Barbazan_ (vol iv.) and in Legrand + dAussys _Fabliaux_ (vol iii.). Margaret calls the lady + Madame du Vergier (literally the lady of the orchard) in her + tale. Bandello imitated the same _fabliau_ in his _Novelle_ + (1554; part iv. nov. v.), but gave it a different ending. + Belleforest subsequently adapted it for his _Histoires + Tragiques_. Margarets tale may also be compared with No. + lxii. of the _Cento Novelle antiche_, p. 84 of the edition + of Florence, 1825.--L. and M. + +In the Duchy of Burgundy there was a Duke who was a very honourable +and handsome Prince. He had married a wife whose beauty pleased him so +greatly that it kept him from knowledge of her character, and he took +thought only how he might please her, whilst she made excellent show of +returning his affection. Now the Duke had in his household a gentleman +filled with all the perfection that could be sought for in a man. He +was loved by all, more especially by the Duke, who had reared him +from childhood near his own person; and, finding him possessed of such +excellent qualities, the Duke loved him exceedingly and trusted him with +all such matters as one of his years could understand. + +The Duchess, who had not the heart of a virtuous woman and Princess, +and was not content with the love that her husband bore her and the good +treatment that she had at his hands, often observed this gentleman, +and so much to her liking did she find him, that she loved him beyond +measure. This she strove unceasingly to make known to him, as well by +soft and piteous glances as by sighs and passionate looks. + +But the gentleman, whose inclinations had ever been to virtue alone, +could not perceive wickedness in a lady who had so little excuse for it, +and so the glances and looks of the poor wanton bore no fruit save her +own frenzied despair. This at last drove her to extremes, and forgetting +that she was a woman fit to be entreated and yet to refuse, and a +Princess made to be worshipped by such lovers and yet to hold them in +scorn, she acted with the spirit of a man transported by passion, with a +view to rid herself of the fire which she could no longer endure. + +Accordingly, one day when her husband was gone to the council, at which +the gentleman by reason of his youth was not present, she beckoned him +to come to her, which he did, thinking that she had some command to +give him. But leaning on his arm, like a woman wearied with repose, she +brought him to walk in a gallery, where she said to him-- + +I marvel that you who are so handsome and young, and full of excellent +grace, have lived in this company, where are so many beautiful ladies, +and yet have been lover or true knight to none. Then, looking at him as +graciously as she was able, she waited for his reply. + +Madam, he said, if I were worthy that your Highness should stoop to +think of me, you would have still greater reason to marvel at seeing a +man so little worthy of love as I am, offer his service where it would +be rejected or scorned. + +On hearing this discreet reply, the Duchess felt she loved him more +than before. She vowed to him that there was not a lady at her Court +who would not be only too happy to have such a knight, and that he might +well make an adventure of the sort, since there was no danger but he +would come out of it with honour. The gentleman kept his eyes downcast, +not daring to meet her looks, which were hot enough to melt ice; but, +just as he was trying to excuse himself, the Duke sent for the Duchess +to come to the council on some matter that concerned her, and thither +with much regret she went. The gentleman never afterwards made the +slightest sign of having understood a word of what she had said to him, +at which she was exceedingly distressed and vexed; and she knew not to +what cause to impute her failure, unless it were to the foolish fear of +which she deemed the gentleman to be possessed. + +A few days afterwards, finding that he gave no sign of understanding +what she had said, she resolved on her part to set aside all fear or +shame, and to tell him of her love. She felt sure that beauty such as +hers could not be otherwise than well received, although she would fain +have had the honour of being wooed. However, she set her honour on one +side for her pleasures sake, and after she had several times attempted +the same fashion of discourse as at first, but without receiving any +reply to her liking, she one day plucked the gentleman by the sleeve, +and told him that she must speak to him on certain matters of weight. +The gentleman went with the humility and reverence that were her due to +a deep window into which she had withdrawn; and, on perceiving that +no one in the room could see her, she began in a trembling voice, +that halted between desire and fear, to continue her former discourse, +rebuking him for not yet having chosen some lady in the company, and +promising him that, no matter who it might be, she would help him to win +kindly treatment. + +The gentleman, who was no less vexed than astonished by her words, +replied-- + +Madam, my heart is so tender, that, were I once refused, I should never +again have joy in this world; and I know myself to be of such little +worth that no lady at this Court would deign to accept my suit. + +The Duchess blushed, and, imagining that at last he was indeed won, +vowed to him that she knew the most beautiful lady in the company +would, if he were willing, joyfully receive him, and afford him perfect +happiness. + +Alas! madam, he replied, I do not think that there is any woman in +this company so unfortunate and so blind as to find me worthy of her +love. + +The Duchess, finding that he would not understand her, drew the veil +of her passion somewhat aside, and, by reason of the fears which the +gentlemans virtue caused her, spoke to him in the form of a question. + +If fortune, she said, had so far favoured you that it was myself who +bore you this goodwill, what would you say? + +The gentleman, who thought that he was dreaming when he heard her speak +in this wise, dropped on his knee, and replied-- + +Madam, when God by His favour enables me to have both the favour of +the Duke, my master, and your own, I shall deem myself the happiest man +alive; for tis the reward I crave for the loyal service of one who, +more than any other, is bound to give his life in the service of you +both. And I am sure, madam, that the love you bear my Lord aforesaid is +attended with such chastity and nobleness that, apart from myself, +who am but a worm of the earth, not even the greatest Prince and most +perfect man to be found could break the union that exists between you. +For my own part, my Lord has brought me up from childhood, and made me +what I am, and to save my life I could not entertain towards any wife, +daughter, sister or mother of his any thought contrary to what is due +from a loyal and faithful servant. + +The Duchess would not allow him to continue, but finding that she was +in danger of obtaining a dishonourable refusal, she suddenly interrupted +him, and said-- + +Wicked and boastful fool, who seeks any such thing from you? Do you +think that your good looks win you the love of the very flies in the +air? Nay, if you were presumptuous enough to address yourself to me, I +would show you that I love, and seek to love, none but my husband. What +I have said to you was spoken only for my amusement, to try you and +laugh at you, as I do at all foolish lovers. + +Madam, said the gentleman, I believed, and do still believe, that it +is as you say. + +Then, without listening further, she withdrew in haste to her own +apartment, and, finding that she was followed by her ladies, went into +her closet, where she sorrowed after a fashion that cannot be described. +On the one part, the love wherein she had failed caused her mortal +sadness; on the other, her anger, both against herself for having +entered upon such foolish talk and against the gentleman for his +discreet reply, drove her into such fury that at one moment she wished +to make away with herself, and at another, to live that she might avenge +herself on one whom she now regarded as her deadly enemy. + +When she had wept for a long while, she made pretence of being ill, in +order that she might not be present at the Dukes supper, at which the +gentleman was commonly in waiting. The Duke, who loved his wife better +than he did himself, came to see her; but the more effectually to work +her end, she told him that she believed herself to be with child, and +that her pregnancy had caused a rheum to come upon her eyes, which gave +her much pain. So passed two or three days, during which the Duchess +kept her bed in sadness and melancholy, until at last the Duke thought +that something further must be the matter. He therefore came at night +to sleep with her; but, finding that for all he could do he could in no +sort check her sighs, he said to her-- + +You know, sweetheart, that I love you as dearly as my life, and that +if yours were lacking I could not endure my own. If therefore you would +preserve my health, I pray you tell me what causes you to sigh after +this manner; for I cannot believe that such unhappiness can come only +because you are with child. + +The Duchess, finding that her husband was disposed to her just as she +could have wished him to be, thought that the time was come to seek +vengeance for her affliction; and embracing the Duke, she began to weep, +and said-- + +Alas, my lord, my greatest unhappiness is to see you deceived by +those on whom is so deep an obligation to guard your substance and your +honour. + +The Duke, on hearing this, was very desirous of knowing why she spoke +in that manner, and earnestly begged her to make the truth known to him +without fear. After refusing several times, she said-- + +I shall never wonder, my lord, that foreigners make war on Princes, +when those who are in duty most bound to them, wage upon them a war so +cruel that loss of territory were nothing in comparison. I say this, +my lord, in reference to a certain gentleman (naming her enemy) who, +though reared by your own hand and treated more like a son than a +servant, has made a cruel and base attempt to ruin the honour of your +wife, in which is also bound up the honour of your house and your +children. Although for a long time he showed me such looks as pointed to +his wicked purpose, yet my heart, which only cares for you, understood +nothing of them; and so at last he declared himself in words to which +I returned a reply such as beseemed my condition and my chastity. +Nevertheless, I now so hate him that I cannot endure to look at him, +and for this cause I have continued in my own apartment and lost the +happiness of fellowship with you. I entreat you, my lord, keep not this +pestilence near your person; for, after such a crime, he might fear lest +I should tell you of it, and so attempt worse. This, my lord, is the +cause of my sorrow, and methinks it were right and fitting that you +should deal with it forthwith. + +The Duke, who on the one hand loved his wife and felt himself grievously +affronted, and on the other loved his servant, whose faithfulness he had +so fully tried that he could scarce believe this falsehood against him, +was in great distress and filled with anger. Repairing to his own room, +he sent word to the gentleman to come no more into his presence, but to +withdraw to his lodging for a time. The gentleman, being ignorant of the +cause of this, was grieved exceedingly, for he knew that he had deserved +the opposite of such unworthy treatment. Aware, then, of his own +innocence in heart and deed, he sent a comrade to speak to the Duke and +take him a letter, humbly entreating that if any evil report had caused +his banishment, his master would be pleased to suspend judgment until he +had heard from himself the truth of the matter, when it would be found +that he had been guilty of no offence. + +When the Duke saw this letter, his anger was somewhat abated. He +secretly sent for the gentleman to his own room, and with wrathful +countenance said-- + +I could never have thought that the care I took to rear you as my own +child would be changed into regret at having so highly advanced you; +but you have attempted what was more hurtful to me than loss of life +or substance, and have sought to assail the honour of one who is half +myself, and so bring infamy on my house and name. You may be assured +that this outrage is so wounding to my heart that, were it not for my +doubt whether it be true or not, you would have already been at the +bottom of the water, and so have received in secret due punishment for +the wrong that in secret you intended against me. + +The gentleman was in no wise dismayed by this discourse, but, ignorant +as he was of the truth, spoke forth with confidence and entreated the +Duke to name his accuser, since such a charge should be justified rather +with the lance than with the tongue. + +Your accuser, said the Duke, carries no weapon but chastity. Know, +then, that none other but my wife has told me this, and she begged me to +take vengeance upon you. + +The poor gentleman, though he then perceived the ladys great +wickedness, would not accuse her. + +My lord, he replied, my lady may say what she will. You know her +better than I do, and you are aware if ever I saw her when out of your +sight, save only on one occasion, when she spoke but little with me. +You have, moreover, as sound a judgment as any Prince alive; wherefore I +pray you, my lord, judge whether you have ever seen aught in me to cause +any suspicion; and remember love is a fire that cannot be hidden so as +never to be known of by those who have had a like distemper. So I pray +you, my lord, to believe two things of me: first, that my loyalty to you +is such that were my lady, your wife, the fairest being in the world, +love would never avail to make me stain my honour and fidelity; and +secondly, that even were she not your wife, I should be least in love +with her of all the women I have ever known, since there are many others +to whom I would sooner plight my troth. + +On hearing these words of truth, the Duke began to be softened, and +said-- + +I assure you, on my part, that I did not believe it. Do, therefore, +according to your wont, in the assurance that, if I find the truth to be +on your side, I will love you yet better than before. But if it be not +so, your life is in my hands. + +The gentleman thanked him and offered to submit to any pain or penalty +if he were found guilty. + +The Duchess, on seeing the gentleman again in waiting as had formerly +been his wont, could not endure it in patience, but said to her +husband-- + +Twould be no more than you deserve, my lord, if you were poisoned, +since you put more trust in your deadly enemies than in your friends. + +I pray you, sweetheart, do not torment yourself in this matter, said +the Duke. If I find that you have told me true, I promise you he shall +not live four and twenty hours. But he has sworn to the contrary, and I +have myself never perceived any such fault, and so I cannot believe it +without complete proof. + +In good sooth, my lord, she replied, your goodness renders his +wickedness the greater. What more complete proof would you have than +this, that no love affair has ever been imputed to him? Believe me, my +lord, were it not for the lofty purpose that he took into his head of +being my lover, he would not have continued so long without a mistress; +for never did a young man live solitary as he does in such good company, +unless he had fixed his heart so high as to be content merely with his +own vain hope. Since, then, you think that he is not hiding the truth +from you, put him, I beg you, on oath as regards his love. If he loves +another, I am content that you should believe him, and if not, you will +know that what I say is true. + +The Duke thought his wifes reasonings very good, and, taking the +gentleman into the country with him, said-- + +My wife continues still of the same mind, and has set before me an +argument that causes me grave suspicion against you. It is deemed +strange that you who are so gallant and young have never been known to +love, and this makes me think that you have such affection for her as +she says, and that the hope it gives you renders you content to think +of no other woman. As a friend, therefore, I pray you, and as a master I +command you to tell me whether you are in love with any lady on earth. + +Although the gentleman would have fain concealed his passion yet as +he loved his life, he was obliged, on seeing his masters jealousy, to +swear to him that he did indeed love one whose beauty was so great, that +the beauty of the Duchess or of any lady of the Court would be simply +ugliness beside it. But he entreated that he might never be compelled to +name her, since the agreement between himself and his sweetheart was of +such a nature that it could not be broken excepting by whichever of them +should be the first to make it known. + +The Duke promised not to urge him, and being quite satisfied with him, +treated him with more kindness than ever before. The Duchess perceived +this, and set herself with her wonted craft to find out the reason. +The Duke did not hide it from her; whereupon strong jealousy sprang up +beside her desire for vengeance, and she begged her husband to command +the gentleman to name his sweetheart. She assured him that the story was +a lie, and that the course she urged was the best means of testing +it. If the gentleman, said she, did not name her whom he deemed so +beautiful, and his master believed him on his mere word, he would indeed +be the most foolish Prince alive. + +The poor Duke, whose wife directed his thoughts at her pleasure, went to +walk alone with the gentleman, and told him that he was in even greater +trouble than before; for he was greatly minded to believe that he had +been given an excuse to keep him from suspecting the truth. This was a +greater torment to him than ever; and he therefore begged the gentleman, +as earnestly as he was able, to name her whom he loved so dearly. The +poor gentleman entreated that he might not be made to commit so great +an offence against his mistress as to break the promise he had given her +and had kept so long, and thus lose in a day all that he had preserved +for seven years. And he added that he would rather suffer death than in +this wise wrong one who had been true to him. + +The Duke, finding that he would not tell him, became deeply jealous, and +with a wrathful countenance exclaimed-- + +Well, choose one of two things: either tell me whom you love more than +any other, or else go into banishment from the territories over which +I rule, under pain of a cruel death if you be found within them after a +week is over. + +If ever heart of loyal servant was torn with anguish, it was so with +that of this poor gentleman, who might well have said, _Angusti sunt +mihi undique_, for on the one part he saw that by telling the truth +he would lose his mistress, if she learned that he had failed in his +promise to her; while, if he did not confess it, he would be banished +from the land in which she dwelt, and be no more able to see her. Hard +pressed in this manner on all sides, there came upon him a cold sweat, +as on one whose sorrow was bringing him near to death. The Duke, +observing his looks, concluded that he loved no other lady than the +Duchess, and was enduring this suffering because he was able to name +none other. He therefore said to him with considerable harshness-- + +If what you say were true, you would not have so much trouble in +telling me; but methinks tis your crime that is tormenting you. + +The gentleman, piqued by these words, and impelled by the love that he +bore his master, resolved to tell him the truth, believing that he was +too honourable a man ever, on any account, to reveal it. Accordingly, +throwing himself upon his knees, and clasping his hands, he said-- + +My lord, the duty that I owe to you and the love that I bear you +constrain me more than the fear of any death. I can see that you imagine +and judge falsely concerning me, and, to take this trouble from you, I +am resolved to do that to which no torment had compelled me. But I pray +you, my lord, swear to me by the honour of God, and promise me by your +own faith as a Prince and a Christian, that you will never reveal the +secret which, since it so pleases you, I am obliged to tell. + +Upon this the Duke swore to him with all the oaths he could think of +that he would never reveal aught of it to any living being, whether by +speech, or writing, or feature. Then the young man, feeling confidence +in so virtuous a Prince as he knew his master to be, began the building +up of his misfortune, and said-- + +It is now seven years, my lord, since knowing your niece, the Lady +du Vergier, to be a widow and without kindred, I set myself to win her +favour. But, since I was of too lowly a birth to wed her, I contented +myself with being received by her as her true knight, as indeed I have +been. And it has pleased God that the affair has hitherto been contrived +with much discretion, so that neither man nor woman knows of it save +ourselves alone, and now, my lord, you also. I place my life and honour +in your hands, entreating you to keep the matter secret and to esteem +your niece none the less; for I think that under heaven there is no more +perfect being. + +If ever man was rejoiced it was the Duke, for, knowing as he did the +exceeding beauty of his niece, he now had no doubt that she was more +pleasing than his wife. However, being unable to understand how so great +a mystery could have been contrived, he begged the gentleman to tell +him how it was that he was able to see her. The gentleman related to him +then that his ladys chamber looked upon a garden, and that, on the days +when he was to visit her, a little gate was left open through which he +went in on foot until he heard the barking of a little dog which the +lady used to loose in the garden when all her women were withdrawn. Then +he went and conversed with her all night long, and, in parting from +her, would appoint a day on which he would return; and this appointment, +unless for some weighty reason, he never failed to keep. The Duke, who +was the most inquisitive man alive, and who had made love in no small +degree in his day, wished both to satisfy his suspicions and to fully +understand so strange a business; and he therefore begged the gentleman +to take him, not as a master but as a companion, the next time he went +thither. To this the gentleman, having gone so far already, consented, +saying that he had an appointment for that very day; at which the Duke +was as glad as if he had gained a kingdom. Making pretence of retiring +to rest in his closet, he caused two horses to be brought for himself +and the gentleman, and they travelled all night long from Argilly, where +the Duke lived, to Le Vergier. (2) + + 2 At Argilly the Dukes of Burgundy had a castle, which was + destroyed during the religious wars at the close of the + sixteenth century. The place is now a small village in the + arrondissement of Nuits, Cte dOr. As the crow flies, it is + some ten miles distant from the ruins of the castle of + Vergy, which stands on a steep height, at an altitude of + over 1600 ft., within five miles from Nuits. The castle, + which can only be reached on one side of the hill, by a + narrow, winding and precipitous pathway, is known to have + been in existence already in the tenth century, when the + Lords of Vergy were Counts of Chalons, Beaune, and Nuits. + They appear to have engaged in a struggle for supremacy with + the princes of the first Ducal house of Burgundy, but in + 1193 Alix de Vergy espoused Duke Eudes III., to whom she + brought, as dower, the greater part of the paternal + inheritance. The castle of Vergy was dismantled by Henry + IV., and the existing ruins are of small extent. Some + antiquaries believe the fortress to have been originally + built by the Romans.--B.J. and L. + +Then they left their horses without the wall, and the gentleman brought +the Duke into the garden through the little gate, begging him to remain +behind a walnut-tree, whence he might see whether he had been told the +truth or not. + +They had been but a short time in the garden when the little dog began +to bark, and the gentleman walked towards the tower, where his lady +failed not to come and meet him. She kissed him, saying that it seemed +a thousand years since she had seen him, and then they went into the +chamber and shut the door behind them. + +Having seen the whole of the mystery, the Duke felt more than satisfied. +Nor had he a great while to wait, for the gentleman told his mistress +that he must needs return sooner than was his wont, since the Duke was +to go hunting at four oclock, and he durst not fail to attend him. + +The lady, who set honour before delight, would not keep him from +fulfilling his duty; for what she prized most in their honourable +affection was that it was kept secret from all. + +So the gentleman departed an hour after midnight, and his lady in cloak +and kerchief went with him, yet not so far as she wished, for, fearing +lest she should meet the Duke, he obliged her to return. Then he +mounted with the Duke and returned to the castle of Argilly, his master +unceasingly swearing to him on the way that he would die rather than +ever reveal his secret. Moreover, he then put so much trust in the +gentleman, and had so much love for him, that no one in his Court stood +higher in his favour. The Duchess grew furious at this, but the Duke +forbade her ever to speak to him about the gentleman again, saying that +he now knew the truth about him and was well pleased, since the lady +in question was more worthy of love than herself. These words deeply +pierced the heart of the Duchess, and she fell into a sickness that was +worse than fever. + +The Duke went to see her in order to comfort her, but there was no +means of doing this except by telling her the name of this beautiful and +dearly loved lady. She pressed him urgently to do this, until at last +the Duke went out of the room, saying-- + +If you speak to me again after this fashion, we shall part one from the +other. + +These words increased the sickness of the Duchess, and she pretended +that she felt her infant stirring, at which the Duke was so rejoiced +that he came and lay beside her. But, just when she saw him most loving +towards her, she turned away, and said-- + +I pray you, my lord, since you have no love for either wife or child, +leave us to die together. + +With these words she gave vent to many tears and lamentations, and the +Duke was in great fear lest she should lose her child. He therefore took +her in his arms and begged her to tell him what she would have, since he +possessed nothing that was not also hers. + +Ah, my lord, she replied, weeping, what hope can I have that you +would do a hard thing for me, when you will not do the easiest and most +reasonable in the world, which is to name to me the mistress of the +wickedest servant you ever had? I thought that you and I had but one +heart, one soul, and one flesh. But now I see that you look upon me as +a stranger, seeing that your secrets, which should be known to me, are +hidden from me as though I were a stranger. Alas! my lord, you have told +me many weighty and secret matters, of which you have never known me to +speak, you have proved my will to be like to your own, and you cannot +doubt but that I am less myself than you. And if you have sworn never to +tell the gentlemans secret to another, you will not break your oath in +telling it to me, for I am not and cannot be other than yourself. I have +you in my heart, I hold you in my arms, I have in my womb a child in +whom you live, and yet I may not have your heart as you have mine. The +more faithful and true I am to you, the more cruel and stern are you to +me, so that a thousand times a day do I long by a sudden death to rid +my child of such a father and myself of such a husband. And I hope that +this will be ere long, since you set a faithless servant before a wife +such as 1 am to you, and before the life of the mother of your child, +which will perish because I cannot have of you that which I most desire +to know. + +So saying, she embraced and kissed her husband, and watered his face +with her tears, uttering the while such lamentations and sighs that the +good Prince feared to lose wife and child together, and resolved to tell +her all the truth of the matter. Nevertheless, he first swore to her +that if ever she revealed it to a living being she should die by his +own hand; and she agreed to and accepted this punishment. Then the poor, +deceived husband told her all that he had seen from beginning to end, +and she made show of being well pleased. In her heart she was minded +very differently, but through fear of the Duke she concealed her passion +as well as she was able. + +Now on a certain great feast-day the Duke held his Court, to which he +had bidden all the ladies of that country, and among the rest his +niece. When the dances began, all did their duty save the Duchess, who, +tormented by the sight of her nieces beauty and grace, could neither +make merry nor prevent her spleen from being perceived. At last she +called all the ladies, and making them scat themselves around her, began +to talk of love; and seeing that the Lady du Vergier said nothing, she +asked her, with a heart which jealousy was rending-- + +And you, fair niece, is it possible that your beauty has found no lover +or true knight? + +Madam, replied the Lady du Vergier, my beauty has not yet made such +a conquest. Since my husbands death I have sought to love none but his +children, with whom I deem myself happy. + +Fair niece, fair niece, replied the Duchess, with hateful spleen, +there is no love so secret that it is not known, and no little dog so +well broken in and trained that it cannot be heard to bark. + +I leave you to imagine, ladies, what sorrow the poor Lady du Vergier +felt in her heart on finding a matter, so long concealed, thus made +known to her great dishonour. Her honour, which had been so carefully +guarded and was now wofully lost, tortured her, but still more so her +suspicion that her lover had failed in his promise to her. This she did +not think he could have done, unless it were that he loved some lady +fairer than herself, to whom his love had constrained him to make the +whole matter known. Yet so great was her discretion that she gave no +sign, but replied laughing to the Duchess that she did not understand +the language of animals. However, beneath this prudent concealment her +heart was filled with sadness, so that she rose up, and, passing out of +the chamber, entered a closet in sight of the Duke, who was walking up +and down. + +Having thus reached a place where she believed herself to be alone, the +poor lady let herself fall helplessly upon a bed, whereat a damsel, who +had sat down beside it to sleep, rose up and drew back the curtains +to see who this might be. Finding that it was the Lady du Vergier, +who believed herself to be alone, she durst say nothing to her, but +listened, making as little noise as she was able. And in a stifled voice +the poor Lady du Vergier began to lament, saying-- + +O unhappy one, what words have I heard? to what decree of death have I +hearkened? what final sentence have I received? O best beloved of men, +is this the reward of my chaste, honourable and virtuous love? O my +heart, hast thou made so parlous an election, and chosen for the +most loyal the most faithless, for the truest the most false, for the +discreetest the most slanderous? Alas! can it be that a thing hidden +from every human eye has been revealed to the Duchess? Alas, my little +dog, so well taught and the sole instrument of my love and virtuous +affection, it was not you who betrayed me, it was he whose voice is +louder than a dogs bark, and whose heart is more thankless than any +brutes. Tis he who, contrary to his oath and promise, has made known +the happy life which, wronging none, we so long have led together. O my +beloved, the love of whom alone has entered into my heart, and preserved +my life, must you now be declared my deadly foe, while mine honour is +given to the winds, my body to the dust, and my soul to its everlasting +abode? Is the beauty of the Duchess so exceeding great that, like the +beauty of Circe, it has bewitched and transformed you? Has she turned +you from virtue to vice, from goodness to wickedness, from being a man +to be a beast of prey? O my beloved, though you have failed in your +promise to me, yet will I keep mine to you, and, now that our love has +been revealed, will never see you more. Nevertheless, I cannot live +without your presence, and so I gladly yield to my exceeding sorrow, and +will seek for it no cure either in reason or in medicine. Death alone +shall end it, and death will be sweeter to me than life on earth without +lover, honour or happiness. Neither war nor death has robbed me of my +lover; no sin or fault of mine has robbed me of my honour; neither error +nor demerit of mine has made me lose my joy. Tis cruel fate that +has rendered the most favoured of men thankless, and has caused me to +receive the contrary of that which I deserved. + +Ah, my Lady Duchess, what delight it was to you to taunt me with my +little dog! Rejoice, then, in the happiness you owe to me alone; taunt +her who thought by careful concealment and virtuous love to be free from +any taunt. Ah! how those words have bruised my heart! how they have made +me blush for shame and pale for jealousy! Alas, my heart, I feel that +thou art indeed undone! The wicked love that has discovered me burns +thee; jealousy of thee and evil intent towards thee are to thee as ice +and death; while wrath and sorrow do not suffer me to comfort thee. +Alas, poor soul, that in adoring the creature didst forget the Creator, +thou must return into the hands of Him from whom vain love tore thee +away. Have trust, my soul, that thou wilt find in Him a Father kinder +than was the lover for whose sake thou hast so often forgotten Him. O my +God, my Creator, Thou who art the true and perfect love, by whose grace +the love I bore to my beloved has been stained by no blemish save +that of too great an affection, I implore Thee in mercy to receive the +soul-and spirit of one who repents that she has broken thy first and +most just commandment. And, through the merits of Him whose love passeth +all understanding, forgive the error into which excess of love has led +me, for in Thee alone do I put my perfect trust. And farewell, O my +beloved, whose empty name doth break my very heart. + +With these words she fell backward, and her face grew pallid, her lips +blue, and her extremities cold. + +Just at this moment the gentleman she loved came into the hall, and, +seeing the Duchess dancing with the ladies, looked everywhere for his +sweetheart. Not finding her, he went into the chamber of the Duchess, +and there found the Duke, who was walking up and down, and who, guessing +his purpose, whispered in his ear-- + +She went into that closet, and methought she was ill. + +The gentleman asked whether he would be pleased to let him go in, and +the Duke begged him to do so. When he entered the closet he found the +Lady du Vergier, come to the last stage of her mortal life; whereat, +throwing his arms about her, he said-- + +What is this, sweetheart? Would you leave me? + +The poor lady, hearing the voice that she knew so well, recovered a +little strength and opened her eyes to look upon him who was the cause +of her death; but at this look her love and anguish waxed so great that, +with a piteous sigh, she yielded up her soul to God. + +The gentleman, more dead than the dead woman herself, asked the damsel +who was there how this sickness had come upon his sweetheart, and she +told him all the words that she had heard. Then the gentleman knew that +the Duke had revealed the secret to his wife, and felt such frenzy that, +whilst embracing his sweethearts body, he for a long time watered it +with his tears, saying-- + +O traitorous, wicked and unhappy lover that I am! why has not the +punishment of my treachery fallen upon me, and not upon her who is +innocent? Why was I not struck by a bolt from heaven on the day when my +tongue revealed the secret and virtuous love between us? Why did not +the earth open to swallow up this traitor to his troth? O tongue, mayest +thou be punished as was the tongue of the wicked rich man in hell! + +O heart, too fearful of death and banishment, mayest thou be torn +continually by eagles as was the heart of Ixion! (3) + + 3 Queen Margarets memory plainly failed her here.--Ed. + +Alas, sweetheart, the greatest of all the greatest woes has fallen upon +me! I thought to keep you, but I have lost you; I thought to see you for +a long time and to abide with you in sweet and honourable content, yet +now I embrace your dead body, and you passed away in sore displeasure +with me, with my heart and with my tongue. O most loyal and faithful of +women, I do confess myself the most disloyal, fickle and faithless of +all men. Gladly would I complain of the Duke in whose promise I trusted, +hoping thus to continue our happy life; but alas! I should have known +that none could keep our secret better than I kept it myself. The Duke +had more reason in telling his secret to his wife than I in telling mine +to him. I accuse none but myself of the greatest wickedness that was +ever done between lovers. I ought to have submitted to be cast into the +moat as he threatened to do with me; at least, sweetheart, you would +then have lived in widowhood and I have died a glorious death in +observing the law that true love enjoins. But through breaking it I am +now in life, and you, through perfectness of love, are dead; for your +pure, clear heart could not bear to know the wickedness of your lover. + +O my God! why didst Thou endow me with so light a love and so ignorant +a heart? Why didst thou not create me as the little dog that faithfully +served his mistress? Alas, my little friend, the joy your bark was wont +to give me is turned to deadly sorrow, now that another than we twain +has heard your voice. Yet, sweetheart, neither the love of the Duchess +nor of any living woman turned me aside, though indeed that wicked one +did often ask and entreat me. Twas by my ignorance, which thought to +secure our love for ever, that I was overcome. Yet for that ignorance am +I none the less guilty; for I revealed my sweethearts secret and broke +my promise to her, and for this cause alone do I see her lying dead +before my eyes. Alas, sweetheart, death will to me be less cruel than +to you, whose love has ended your innocent life. Methinks it would not +deign to touch my faithless and miserable heart; for life with dishonour +and the memory of that which I have lost through guilt would be harder +to bear than ten thousand deaths. Alas, sweetheart, had any dared to +slay you through mischance or malice, I should quickly have clapped hand +to sword to avenge you; tis therefore right that I should not pardon +the murderer who has caused your death by a more wicked act than any +sword-thrust. Did I know a viler executioner than myself, I would +entreat him to put your traitorous lover to death. O Love! I have +offended thee from not having known how to love, and therefore thou wilt +not succour me as thou didst succour her who kept all thy laws. Tis not +right that I should die after so honourable a manner; but tis well that +I should die by mine own hand. I have washed your face, sweet, with my +tears, and with my tongue have craved your forgiveness; and now it only +remains for my hand to make my body like unto yours, and send my soul +whither yours will go, in the knowledge that a virtuous and honourable +love can never end, whether in this world or in the next. + +Rising up from the body he then, like a frenzied man beside himself, +drew his dagger and with great violence stabbed himself to the heart. +Then he again took his sweetheart in his arms, kissing her with such +passion that it seemed as though he were seized rather with love than +with death. + +The damsel, seeing him deal himself the blow, ran to the door and called +for help. The Duke, on hearing the outcry, suspected misfortune to those +he loved, and was the first to enter the closet, where he beheld the +piteous pair. He sought to separate them, and, if it were possible, to +save the gentleman; but the latter clasped his sweetheart so fast that +he could not be taken from her until he was dead. Nevertheless he heard +the Duke speaking to him and saying--Alas! what is the cause of this? + To which, with a glance of fury, he replied--My tongue, my lord, and +yours. So saying, he died, with his face close pressed to that of his +mistress. + +The Duke, wishing to know more of the matter, made the damsel tell him +what she had seen and heard; and this she did at full length, sparing +nothing. Then the Duke, finding that he was himself the cause of all +this woe, threw himself upon the two dead lovers, and, with great +lamentation and weeping, kissed both of them several times and asked +their forgiveness. And after that he rose up in fury, and drew the +dagger from the gentlemans body; and, just as a wild boar, wounded with +a spear, rushes headlong against him that has dealt the blow, so did the +Duke now seek out her who had wounded him to the bottom of his soul. He +found her dancing in the hall, and more merry than was her wont at +the thought of the excellent vengeance she had wreaked on the Lady du +Vergier. + +The Duke came upon her in the midst of the dance, and said-- + +You took the secret upon your life, and upon your life shall fall the +punishment. + +So saying, he seized her by the head-dress and stabbed her with the +dagger in the breast. All the company were astonished, and it was +thought that the Duke was out of his mind; but, having thus worked his +will, he brought all his retainers together in the hall and told them +the virtuous and pitiful story of his niece, and the evil that his wife +had wrought her. And those who were present wept whilst they listened. + +Then the Duke ordered that his wife should be buried in an abbey which +he founded partly to atone for the sin that he had committed in killing +her; and he caused a beautiful tomb to be built, in which the bodies of +his niece and the gentleman were laid together, with an epitaph setting +forth their tragic story. And the Duke undertook an expedition against +the Turks, in which God so favoured him, that he brought back both +honour and profit. On his return, he found his eldest son now able to +govern his possessions, and so left all to him, and went and became a +monk in the abbey where his wife and the two lovers were buried. And +there did he spend his old age happily with God. + +Such, ladies, is the story which you begged me to relate, and which, +as I can see from your eyes, you have not heard without compassion. It +seems to me that you should take example by it, and beware of placing +your affections upon men; for, however honourable or virtuous these +affections may be, in the end they have always an aftertaste of evil. +You see how St. Paul would not that even married people should so +deeply love each other; (4) for the more our hearts are set upon earthly +things, the more remote are they from heavenly affection, and the harder +is the tie to be broken. I therefore pray you, ladies, ask God for His +Holy Spirit, who will so fire your hearts with the love of God, that +when death comes, you will not be pained at leaving that which you love +too well in this world. + + 4 I _Corinthians_ vii. 32-5.--M. + +If their love, said Geburon, was as honourable as you describe, why +was it needful to keep it so secret? + +Because, said Parlamente, the wickedness of men is so great, that +they can never believe deep love to be allied with honour, but judge +men and women to be wicked according to their own passions. Hence, if a +woman has a dear friend other than one of her nearest kinsfolk, she must +speak with him in secret if she would speak long with him; for a womans +honour is attacked, whether she love virtuously or viciously, since +people judge only from appearances. + +But, said Geburon, when a secret of that kind is revealed, people +think far worse of it. + +I grant you that, said Longarine; and so it is best not to love at +all. + +We appeal from that sentence, said Dagoucin, for, did we believe the +ladies to be without love, we would fain be ourselves without life. I +speak of those who live but to win love: and, even if they secure it +not, yet the hope of it sustains them and prompts them to do a thousand +honourable deeds, until old age changes their fair sufferings to other +pains. But, did we think that ladies were without love, it were needful +we should turn traders instead of soldiers, and instead of winning fame, +think only of heaping up riches. + +You would say, then, said Hircan, that, were there no women, we +should all be dastards, as though we had no courage save such as they +put into us. But I am of quite the opposite opinion, and hold that +nothing weakens a mans courage so much as to consort with women or love +them too much. For this reason the Jews would not suffer a man to go to +the war within a year after his marriage, lest love for his wife should +draw him back from the dangers that he ought to seek. (5) + + 5 See _Deuteronomy_ xx. 5, 6, 7; and the comments thereon + of Rabelais (book iii. ch. vi.).--M. + +I consider that law, said Saffredent, to have been without reason, +for nothing will more readily make a man leave his home than marriage. +The war without is not harder of endurance than the war within; and I +think that, to make men desirous of going into foreign lands instead of +lingering by their hearths, it were only needful to marry them. + +It is true, said Ennasuite, that marriage takes from them the care +of their houses; for they trust in their wives, and for their own part +think only of winning fame, feeling certain that their wives will give +due heed to the profit. + +However that may be, replied Saffredent, I am glad that you are of my +opinion. + +But, said Parlamente, you are not discussing what is chiefly to be +considered, and that is why the gentleman, who was the cause of all the +misfortune, did not as quickly die of grief as she who was innocent. + +Nomerfide replied-- + +Twas because women love more truly than men. + +Nay, said Simontault, twas because the jealousy and spitefulness of +women make them die without knowing the reason, whereas men are led by +their prudence to inquire into the truth of the matter. When this has +been learnt through their sound sense, they display their courage, as +this gentleman did; for, as soon as he understood the reason of his +sweethearts misfortune, he showed how truly he loved her and did not +spare his own life. + +Yet, said Ennasuite, she died of true love, for her steadfast and +loyal heart could not endure to be so deceived. + +It was her jealousy, said Simontault, which would not yield to +reason, so that she believed evil of her lover of which he was not +guilty at all. Moreover, her death was matter of necessity, for she +could not prevent it, whilst her lovers death was voluntary, after he +had recognised his own wrongdoing. + +Still, said Nomerfide, the love must needs be great that causes such +deep sorrow. + +Have no fear of it, said Hircan, for you will never die of that kind +of fever. + +Nor, said Nomerfide, will you ever kill yourself after recognising +your error. + +Here Parlamente, who suspected that the dispute was being carried on at +her own expense, said, laughing-- + +Tis enough that two persons should have died of love, without two +others fighting for the same cause. And there is the last bell sounding +for vespers, which will have us gone whether you be willing or not. + +By her advice the whole company then rose and went to hear vespers, not +forgetting in their fervent prayers the souls of those true lovers, for +whom, also, the monks, of their charity, said a _De profundis_. As long +as supper lasted there was no talk save of the Lady du Vergier, and +then, when they had spent a little time together, they withdrew to their +several apartments, and so brought to an end the Seventh Day. + + +[Illustration: 213.jpg Tailpiece] + + + + +EIGHTH DAY. + +_On the Eighth Day relation is made of the greatest yet truest follies +that each can remember_. + + + + +PROLOGUE. + +When morning was come they inquired whether their bridge (1) were being +well advanced, and found that it might be finished in two or three days. +These were not welcome tidings to some among the company, for they +would gladly have had the work last a longer time, so as to prolong +the happiness that they enjoyed in this pleasant mode of life. Finding, +however, that only two or three such days were left, they resolved to +turn them to account, and begged the Lady Oisille to give them their +spiritual nourishment as had been her wont. This she forthwith did, +but she detained them longer than usual, for before setting forth she +desired to finish reading the canonical writings of St. John; and so +well did she acquit herself of this, that it seemed as if the Holy +Spirit in all His love and sweetness spoke by her mouth. Glowing with +this heavenly flame, they went to hear high mass, and afterwards dined +together, again speaking of the past day, and doubting whether they +could make another as fair. + + 1 The allusion is to the bridge over the Gave spoken of in + the General Prologue (_ante_, vol. i. p. 25-6).--M. + +In order to set about it, they retired to their own rooms until it was +time to repair to their Chamber of Accounts on the Board of Green Grass, +where they found the monks already arrived and in their places. + +When all were seated, the question was put, who should begin; and +Saffredent said-- + +You did me the honour to have me begin on two days. Methinks we should +act wrongly towards the ladies if one of them did not also begin on +two. + +It were then needful, said the Lady Oisille, either that we should +continue here for a great while, or else that a gentleman and a lady of +the company should forego the beginning of a day. + +For my part, said Dagoucin, had I been chosen, I would have given my +place to Saffredent. + +And I, said Nomerfide, to Parlamente, for I have been so wont to +serve that I know not how to command. + +To this all agreed, and Parlamente thus began-- + +Ladies, the days that are past have been filled with so many tales of +wisdom, that I would beg you to fill this one with the greatest (yet +most real) follies that we can remember. So, to lead the way, I will +begin. + + +[Illustration: 219a. The Saddlers Wife Cured by the sight of her Husband +Caressing the Serving-maid] + +[The Saddlers Wife Cured by the sight of her Husband Caressing the +Serving-maid] + +[Illustration: 219.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXXI_. + + _A saddlers wife, who was grievously sick, was made whole + and recovered the power of speech, which for the space of + two days site had lost, on seeing her husband holding his + serving-maid too familiarly on the bed whilst she herself + was drawing to her end_. + +In the town of Amboise there lived one Brimbaudier, (1) saddler to the +Queen of Navarre, and a man whose colour of feature showed him to be +by nature rather a servant of Bacchus than a priest of Diana. He had +married a virtuous woman who controlled his household very discreetly, +and with whom he was well content. + + 1 Boaistuau gives the name as Bruribandier, and Gruget + transforms it into Borribaudier. M, Pifteau, after examining + the MSS., is doubtful whether Brimbaudier is the correct + reading. Bromardier, which in old French meant a tippler + (Ducange, _Briemardum_), would have been an appropriate name + for the individual referred to.--Ed. + +One day it was told him that his good wife was sick and in great danger, +at which tidings he was in the greatest trouble imaginable. He went with +all speed to her aid, and found her so low, poor woman, that she had +more need of a confessor than a doctor. Thereupon he made the most +pitiful lamentation that could be, but to represent it well twere +needful to speak thickly as he did, (2) and better still to paint ones +face like his. + + 2 Curiously enough, the transcriber of MS. No. 1520 + attempts to give some idea of the husbands pronunciation by + transforming all his rs into ls. Here is an example: Je + pelz ma povle femme, que fesai-ze, moi malhureux?... Mamie + je me meuls, je suis pis que tlepass... je ne sai que + faize, &c.--L. + +When he had done all that he could for her, she asked for the cross, and +it was brought. On seeing this, the good man flung himself upon a bed in +despair, crying and saying in his thick speech-- + +Ah God! I am losing my poor wife! What shall I do, unhappy man that I +am? + +After uttering many such complaints, he perceived that there was no one +in the room but a young servant-maid, passably fair and buxom, and he +called to her in a whisper. + +Sweetheart, he said, I am dying. I am more than dead to see your +mistress dying in this manner. I know not what to do or say, except +that I commend myself to you, and beg you to care for my house and my +children. Take therefore the keys from my side, and order the household, +for I myself can attend to nothing more. + +The poor girl had pity on him and comforted him, begging him not to +despair, so that, if she must lose her mistress, she might not also lose +her good master. + +Sweetheart, he replied, tis all of no avail, for I am indeed dying. +See yourself how cold my face is; bring your cheeks close to mine and +warm them. + +With this he laid his hand upon her breast. She tried to make some +difficulty, but he begged her to have no fear, since they must indeed +see each other more closely. And speaking in this wise, he took her in +his arms and threw her upon the bed. + +Then his wife, whose only company was the cross and the holy water, +and who had not spoken for two days, began to cry out as loudly as her +feeble voice enabled her-- + +Ah! ah! ah! I am not dead yet! And threatening them with her hand, she +repeated--Villain! monster! I am not dead yet! + +On hearing her voice, the husband and maid rose up, but she was in such +a rage against them that her anger consumed the catarrhal humour that +had prevented her from speaking, and she poured upon them all the abuse +that she could think of. And from that hour she began to mend, though +not without often reproaching her husband for the little love he bore +her. (3) + + 3 This story was imitated by Nol du Fail de La Hrissaye + in his _Contes dEutrapel_ (ch. v._ De la Goutte_), where + the hero of the incident is called Glaume Esnaut de + Tremeril. It is said, writes Du Fail, that the wife of + that rascal Glaume of Tremeril when at the point of death, + on seeing Glaume too familiar with her serving-woman, + recovered her senses, saying, Ah! wicked man, I am not yet + so low as you thought. By Gods grace, mistress baggage, you + shall go forth at once. Curiously enough, the 1585 edition + of the _Contes dEutrapel_ was printed at Rennes for Nol + Glame, virtually the same name as Glaume.--M. + +By this you see, ladies, the hypocrisy of men, and how a little +consolation will make them forget their sorrow for their wives. + +How do you know, said Hircan, that he had not heard that such was the +best remedy his wife could have? Since his kindly treatment availed +not to cure her, he wished to try whether the opposite would prove any +better, and the trial was a very fortunate one. But I marvel that you +who are a woman should have shown how the constitution of your sex is +brought to amendment rather by foul means than by fair. + +Without doubt, said Longarine, behaviour of that kind would make me +rise not merely from my bed, but from a grave such as that yonder. + +And what wrong did he do her, asked Saffre-dent, by comforting +himself when he thought that she was dead? It is known that the +marriage-tie lasts only through life, and that when this is ended it is +loosed. + +Ay, said Oisille, loosed from oath and bond, but a good heart is +never loosed from love. The husband you have told us of was indeed quick +to forget his grief, since he could not wait until his wife had breathed +her last. + +What I think strangest of all, said Nomerfide, is that, when death +and the cross were before his eyes, he should not have lost all desire +to offend against God. + +A brave argument! said Simontault. You would therefore not be +surprised to see a man act wantonly provided he were a good distance +from the church and cemetery? + +You may laugh at me as much as you please, said Nomerfide; +nevertheless the contemplation of death must greatly chill a heart, +however young it may be. + +I should indeed be of the same opinion as yourself, said Dagoucin, if +I had not heard a Princess say the opposite. + +In other words. said Parlamente, she told some story about it. If it +be so, I will give you my place that you may relate it to us. + +Then Dagoucin began as follows:-- + + +[Illustration: 224.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 225a. The Monk Conversing with the Nun while Shrouding +a Dead Body] + +[The Monk Conversing with the Nun while Shrouding a Dead Body] + +[Illustration: 225.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXXII_. + + _Whilst engaged in the last deed of charity, the shrouding + of a dead body, a monk did also engage with a nun in the + deeds of the flesh, and made her big with child_. (1) + + + +In one of the finest towns of France after Paris there stood an hospital +(2) richly endowed--namely, with a Prioress and fifteen or sixteen nuns, +while in another building there was a Prior and seven or eight monks. +Every day the monks said mass, but the nuns only their paternosters and +the Hours of Our Lady, for they were occupied in tending the sick. + + 1 Gruget first printed this tale, which was not given by + Boaistuau.--L. + + 2 It is impossible to say what town and hospital Margaret + here refers to. Lyons is the scene of the latter part of the + story; and we are inclined to think that the earlier + incidents may have occurred at Dijon, where there was a + famous hospital under ecclesiastical management, founded by + Eudes III., seventh Duke of Burgundy.--L. and Ed. + +One day it chanced that a poor man died, and the nuns, being all +assembled with him, after giving him every remedy for his health, sent +for one of their monks to confess him. Then, finding that he was growing +weaker, they gave him the extreme unction, after which he little by +little lost the power of speech. + +But as he was a long time in passing away, and it seemed that he could +still hear, the nuns continued speaking to him with the most comforting +words they knew, until at last they grew weary, and, finding that night +was come and that it was late, retired one after another to rest. Thus, +to shroud the body, there remained only one of the youngest of the nuns, +with a monk whom she feared more than the Prior or any other, by reason +of the severity that he displayed in both speech and life. + +When they had duly uttered their Hours in the poor mans ear, they +perceived that he was dead, and thereupon laid him out. Whilst +engaged on this last deed of charity, the monk began to speak of +the wretchedness of life, and the blessedness of death; and in such +discourse they continued until after midnight. + +The poor girl listened attentively to the monks pious utterances, +looking at him the while with tears in her eyes; and so pleasing were +these to him that, whilst speaking of the life to come, he began +to embrace her as though he longed to bear her away in his arms to +Paradise. + +The poor girl, listening to his discourse and deeming him the most pious +of the community, ventured not to say him nay. + +Perceiving this, the wicked monk, whilst still speaking of God, +accomplished with her the work which the devil suddenly put into their +hearts--for before there had been no question of such a thing. He +assured her, however, that secret sin was not imputed to men by God, and +that two persons who had no ties, could do no wrong in this manner, +when no scandal came of it; and, to avoid all scandal, he told her to be +careful to confess to none but himself. + +So they parted each from the other, she going first. And as she passed +through a chapel dedicated to Our Lady, she was minded to make her +prayer as was her wont. But when she began with the words, Mary, +Virgin, she remembered that she had lost the title of virginity not +through force or love, but through foolish fear; and she began to weep +so bitterly that it seemed as if her heart must break. + +The monk, hearing the sighing from a distance, suspected her repentance, +which might make him lose his delight, and to prevent this, he came and, +finding her prostrate before the image, began to rebuke her harshly, +telling her that if she had any scruples of conscience she should +confess herself to him, and that she need not so act again unless she +desired; for she might behave in either way without sin. The foolish +nun, thinking to make atonement to God, confessed herself to the monk; +but in respect of penance he swore to her that she did no sin in loving +him, and that holy water would suffice to wash away such a peccadillo. + +Believing in him more than in God, she again some time afterwards +yielded to him, and so became big with child. At this she was in deep +grief, and entreated the Prioress to have the monk turned away from his +monastery, saying that she knew him to be so crafty that he would not +fail to seduce her. The Abbess and the Prior, who understood each other, +laughed at her, saying that she was big enough to defend herself against +a man, and that the monk she spoke of was too virtuous to do such a +deed. + +At last, urged by the prickings of her conscience, she craved license +to go to Rome, for she thought that, by confessing her sin at the Popes +feet, she might recover her virginity. This the Prior and Prioress very +readily granted her, for they were more willing that she should become +a pilgrim contrary to the rules of her order, than be shut up in the +convent with her present scruples. They feared also that in her despair +she might denounce the life that was led among them, and so gave her +money for her journey. + +But God brought it to pass that when she came to Lyons, my lady the +Duchess of Alenon, afterwards Queen of Navarre, being one evening after +vespers in the roodloft of the church of St. John, whither she came +secretly to perform a novena with three or four of her women, (3) +heard someone mounting the stairway whilst she was kneeling before the +crucifix. By the light of the lamp she saw it was a nun, and in order +that she might hear her devotions, the Duchess thereupon withdrew to the +corner of the altar. The nun, who believed herself to be alone, knelt +down and, beating her breast, began weeping so sorrowfully that it was +piteous to hear her; and all the while she cried naught but this--Alas! +my God, take pity on this poor sinner. + + 3 See _ante_, Tale LXV., note i. + +The Duchess, wishing to learn what it meant, went up to her and said, +Dear heart, what ails you, and whence do you come, and what brings you +to this place? + +The poor nun, who did not know her, replied, Ah, sweet, my woe is such +that I have no help but in God; and I pray that He may bring me to speak +with the Duchess of Alenon. To her alone will I tell the matter, for I +am sure that, if it be possible, she will set it right. + +Dear heart, then said the Duchess, you may speak to me as you would +to her, for I am one of her nearest friends. + +Forgive me, said the nun; she alone must know my secret. + +Then the Duchess told her that she might speak freely, since she had +indeed found her whom she sought. Forthwith the poor woman threw herself +at her feet, and, after she had wept, related what you have heard +concerning her hapless fortune. The Duchess consoled her so well, that +whilst she took not from her everlasting repentance for her sin, she +put from her mind the journeying to Rome, and then sent her back to her +priory with letters to the Bishop of the place to have that shameful +monk turned away. + +I have this story from the Duchess herself, and from it you may see, +ladies, that Nomerfides prescription is not good for all, since these +persons fell into lewdness even while touching and laying out the dead. + +Twas a device, said Hircan, that methinks no man ever used before, +to talk of death and engage in the deeds of life. + +Tis no deed of life, said Oisille, to sin, for it is well known that +sin begets death. + +You may be sure, said Saffredent, that these poor folk gave no +thought to any such theology; but just as the daughters of Lot made +their father drunk so that the human race might be preserved, so these +persons wished to repair what death had spoiled, and to replace the dead +body by a new one. I therefore can see no harm in the matter except the +tears of the poor nun, who was always weeping and always returning to +the cause of her tears. + +I have known many of the same kind, said Hircan, who wept for their +sins and laughed at their pleasures both together. + +I think I know whom you mean, said Parlamente, and their laughter has +lasted so great a while that twere time the tears should begin. + +Hush! said Hircan. The tragedy that has begun with laughter is not +ended yet. + +To change the subject, said Parlamente, it seems to me that Dagoucin +departed from our purpose. We were to tell only merry tales, and his was +very piteous. + +You said, replied Dagoucin, that you would only tell of follies, and +I think that herein I have not been lacking. But, that we may hear a +more pleasant story, I give my vote to Nomerfide, in the hope that she +will make amends for my error. + +I have indeed, she answered, a story ready which is worthy to follow +yours; for it speaks of monks and death. So I pray you give good heed. + +_Here end the Tales and Novels of the late Queen of Navarre, that is, +all that can be recovered of them_. + + +[Illustration: 232.jpg Tailpiece] + + +APPENDIX. + + + + +THE SUPPOSED NARRATORS OF THE _HEPTAMERON_ TALES. + +In his introductory essay to this translation of the _Heptameron_, Mr. +George Saintsbury has called attention to the researches of various +commentators who have laboured to identify the supposed narrators of +Queen Margarets tales. As it may be fairly assumed that the setting +of the work is pure invention on the Queens part, the researches in +question can scarcely serve any useful purpose. Still they appear to +have had considerable attraction for several erudite editors, whose +opinions, occasionally alluded to in our notes, we will here briefly +summarise for the information of those whom the matter may interest:-- + +OISILLE, a widow lady of long experience, is supposed by Messrs. de +Lincy, Lacroix, Gnin, Frank, de Montaiglon and Miss Mary Robinson to be +Louise of Savoy. In some MSS. the name is written Osyle, the anagram +of _Loyse_, in which fashion Louise was spelt in old French. It may be +pointed out, _en passant_, that Brantmes grandmother, the Snchale +of Poitou, whose connection with the _Heptameron_ is recorded, was also +named Louise (see ante, vol. i. p. lxxxii.). + +PARLAMENTE, wife of Hircan, is supposed by the same commentators to be +Queen Margaret herself; this is assumed mainly because the views +which Parlamente expresses on religion, philosophy, men and women, +are generally in accord with those which the Queen is known to have +professed. + +HIRCAN, in M. de Lincys opinion, might be the Duke of Alenon, +Margarets first husband. Messrs. Frank and Mont-aiglon, following M. +Lacroix, prefer to identify him as Henry dAlbret, King of Navarre. +They conjecture the name of Hircan to be derived from Ilanricus, a not +uncommon fashion of spelling Henricus. It might, however, simply come +from _hircus_, a he-goat, for Hircan is a man of gross, sensual tastes. + +LONGARINE, a young widow, is supposed by M. de Lincy to be Blanche de +Chastillon, _ne_ de Tournon (concerning whom see _ante_, vol. i. p. 84, +n. 7, and p. 120 _et seq_.; vol. iv. p. 144, n. 2; and vol. v. p. 25, n. +2). M. Frank, however, thinks she is Aime Motier de la Fayette, lady of +_Longray_, widow of Francis de Silly, Bailiff of Caen, and _gouvernante_ +to Queen Margarets daughter, Jane of Navarre. Miss Robinson shares this +opinion, but M. de Montaiglon thinks that _Longarine_ would rather +be Aime Motier de la Fayettes daughter Frances, married to Frederic +dAlmenesches, of one of the branches of the house of Foix. + +SIMONTAULT (occasionally _Symontaut_), a young knight, is thought by M. +de Lincy to be Henry dAlbret, Margarets second husband, who was of an +extremely amorous disposition, and much younger than herself. Messrs. +Frank and de Montaiglon, however, fancy _Simontault_ to have been +Francis, Baron de Bourdeilles, father of Brantme. It is admitted, +however, that if this be the case, it is curious that Brantme should +not have alluded to it in any of his writings, whereas he does speak +both of his mother and of his grandmother in connection with the +_Heptameron_. + +ENNASUITE (occasionally _Ennasuitte_ or _Ennasuicte_, and in some MSS. +_Emarsuite_), is supposed by Messrs. de Lincy, Frank, and de Montaiglon +to be Anne de Vivonne, wife of Francis de Bourdeilles and mother of +Brantme (see ante, vol. iv. p. 144, n. 2). It is pointed out that the +name may be transformed into the three words _Anne et suite_. + +DAGOUCIN, a young gentleman, is thought by M. Frank to be Nicholas Dangu +(see ante, vol. i. p. 20, n. 4, and p. 40, n. 3), who became Chancellor +to the King of Navarre. M. Lacroix, however, fancies this personage to +be a Count dAgoust. + +GEBURON, apparently an elderly man, would in M. Franks opinion be the +Seigneur de Burye, a captain of the Italian wars to whom Brantme (his +cousin-german) alludes in his writings. The name of de Burye is also +found in a list of the personages present at Queen Margarets funeral. +M. de Montaiglon shares M. Franks views. + +NOMERFIDE, so M. de Lincy suggests, may have been the famous Frances +de Foix, Countess of Chateaubriand; but M. Frank opines that she is a +Demoiselle de Fimarcon or Fidmarcon (Lat. _Feudimarco_), who in +1525 married John de Montpczat, called Captain Carbon, one of the +exquisites of the famous Field of the cloth of gold. Miss Robinson, +however, fancies that Nomerfide is Isabel dAlbret, sister of Margarets +second husband, and wife of Ren de Rohan. + +SAFFREDENT, so M. de Lincy thinks, may be Admiral de Bonnivet; M. Frank +suggests John de Montpezat; and Miss Robinson Ren de Rohan, who, after +his father Peter de Rohan-Gi (husband of Rolandine, see _ante_, vol. +iii., Tale XXI, notes 2 and 15), had been killed at Pavia, was for some +years entrusted to Queen Margarets care. As Miss Robinson points out, +_Saffredent_ literally means greedy tooth or sweet tooth. + +Those who may be desirous of studying and comparing these various +attempts at identification, will find all the evidence and arguments of +any value set forth in the writings of M. Frank, M. de Montaiglon and +Miss Robinson, which are specified in the Bibliography annexed to this +appendix.--Ed. + + + + +BIBLIOGRAPHY. + +Fourteen MS. copies of the _Heptameron_ are known to exist. Twelve +of these are at the Bibliothque Nationale, Paris, one is at the town +library of Orleans, and one in the Vatican library. We also have some +record of four other copies which were in private libraries at the end +of the last century. + +The twelve MSS. at the Bibliothque Nationale are the following:-- + +I. (No. 1511 in the catalogue). A folio volume bound in red morocco, +bearing the Bthune arms. This MS. is on ruled paper, and only one leaf, +the last, is missing. + +II. (No. 1512). A small folio, calf gilt, 350 leaves, from Colberts +library. The handwriting is that of the middle of the sixteeenth +century, and is the same throughout; the last page bearing the signature +Doulcet. This supplied the text followed in the present translation. + +III. (No. 1513). A small folio, half-bound in red morocco, stamped with +King Louis Philippes monogram. It contains only twenty-eight of the +tales. + +IV. (No. 1514). A large quarto, calf, from the De Mesmes library. +Contains only thirty-four of the tales. + +V. (No. 1515). A small folio from Colberts library, bound in calf, +in Grosliers style. The text is complete, but there are numerous +interlinear and marginal corrections and additions, in the same +handwriting as MS. VII. + +VI. (Nos. 1516 to 1519). Four quarto vols., red morocco, Bthune arms. +The first prologue is deficient, as is also the last leaf of tale lxxi. + +VII. (No. 1520). A folio vol., calf and red morocco, stamped with +fleurs-de-lys and the monogram of Louis XVIII. This MS. on stout ruled +paper, in a beautiful italic handwriting of the end of the sixteenth +century, is complete. Unfortunately Queen Margarets phraseology has +been considerably modified, though, on the other hand, the copyist has +inserted a large number of different readings, as marginal notes, which +render his work of great value. It is frequently quoted in the present +translation. + +VIII. (No. 1523). A folio vol., calf, from the De La Marre library. The +first two leaves are deficient, and the text ends with the fifth tale of +Day IV. + +IX. (No. 1522). A small folio, bound in parchment, from the De La Marre +library. Only the tales of the first four days are complete, and on +folio 259 begins a long poem called Les Prisons, the work probably of +William Filandrier, whom Queen Margaret protected. On the first folio of +the volume is the inscription, in sixteenth-century handwriting: _Pour +ma sour Marie Philander_. The poem _Les Prisons_ is quoted on pp. +xxxviii.-ix. vol. i. of the present work. It concludes with an epitaph +on Margaret, dated 1549. + +X. (No. 1524). A folio vol. from Colberts library, bound in red and +yellow morocco, on which is painted, on a blue ground, a vine laden with +grapes twining round the trunk of a tree. On either side and in gold +letters is the device, _Sin e doppo la morte_ (until and after death). +Following the title-page, on which the work is called The Decameron of +the most high and most illustrious Princess, Madame Margaret of France, + is a curious preface signed Adrian de Thou, and dated Paris, August +8, 1553. This Adrian de Thou, Lord of Hierville and canon of Notre Dame +de Paris, counsellor and clerk of the Paris Parliament, was the fourth +son of Augustine de Thou and uncle to James Augustus de Thou, the +historian. He died in October 1570. His MS. of the _Heptameron_, a +most beautiful specimen of caligraphy, contains a long table of various +readings and obscure passages; this was consulted in preparing the text +for the present translation. The titles to the tales have also been +borrowed from this MS.; they were composed by De Thou himself, and +figure in no other MS. copy. + +XI. (No. 1525). A small folio, calf, from Colberts library, very +incomplete and badly written, but containing the _Miroir de Jsu Crist +crucifi_, the last poem Queen Margaret composed (see _ante_, vol. i. p. +lxxxvi.). + +XII. (No. 2155). A small quarto, red morocco, from the library of +Mazarin, whose escutcheon has been cut off. The text, which is +complete and correct, excepting that a portion of the prologue has been +accidentally transposed, is followed by an epitaph on the Queen. The +handwriting throughout is that of the end of the sixteenth century. + + +The other MSS. of the _Heptameron_ are the following:-- + +XIII. (Orleans town library, No. 352). A folio vol. of 440 pp. It is +doubtful whether this MS. is of the sixteenth or seventeenth century. +It bears the title _LHeptamron des Nouvelles, &c_. There are numerous +deficiencies in the text. + +XIV. (Vatican library, No. 929; from the library of Queen Christina of +Sweden). A folio vol., calf, 95 leaves, handwriting of the end of the +sixteenth century. This only contains fifteen of the stories. + +XV. (present possessor unknown). A folio vol., red morocco; text (ending +with tale lxix. ) in sixteenth-century handwriting, with illuminated +initial letters to each tale. _Catalogue des livres de feue Mme. la +Comtesse de Verrue_, Paris, G. Martin, 1737. + +XVI. (possessor unknown). MS. supposed to be the original, a large +folio, handwriting of the period, antique binding, containing the +seventy-two tales. _Catalogue des livres, &c., du cabinet de M. Filheul, +&c._, Paris, Chardin, 1779, pp. xxi. and 280. + +XVII. (possessor unknown). A folio vol., blue morocco, gilt. No. 1493 +in the catalogue of the _Bibliothque de Simon Bernard, chez Barrois_, +Paris, 1734; and No. 213 in a _Catalogue de manuscrits intressants qui +seront vendus... en la maison de M. Gueret, notaire_, Paris, Debure fils +jeune, 1776. + +XVIII. (possessor unknown). A folio vol., blue morocco, gilt, stamped +with the arms of France, from the Randon de Boisset library; the +seventy-two tales complete, a very fine copy. _Catalogue des livres de +la bibliothqzie de lAbb Rive_, Marseilles, 1793. (This MS. should not +be confounded with No. xvii. See L. J. Hubauds _Dissertation sur les +Contes de la Reine de Navarre_, Marseilles, 1850.) + + +The following are the editions of Queen Margarets tales issued from the +press from the sixteenth century to the present time. The list has been +prepared with great care, and we believe it to be as complete a one as +can be furnished; it includes several editions not mentioned in Brunets +Manual:-- + +I. _Histoires des Amans Fortunez ddies trs illustre princesse, Mme. +Marguerite de Bourbon, etc., par Pierre Boaistuau, dit Launoy_, Paris, +1558, 40. The authorisation to print and publish was accorded to Vincent +Sertenas, and the work was issued by three different booksellers; some +copies bearing the name of Gilles Robinot, others that of Jean Cavyller, +and others that of Gilles Gilles. + +This, the first edition of the Queens work, contains only sixty-seven +of the tales, which are not divided into days or printed in their proper +sequence; the prologues, moreover, are deficient, and all the +bold passages on religious and philosophical questions, &c, in the +conversational matter following the stories, are suppressed. + +II. _LHeptamron des Nouvelles de tris illustre et trs excellente +Princesse Marguerite de Valois, Royne de Navarre, &c., ddi trs +illustre et trs vertueuse Princesse Jeanne, Royne de Navarre, par +Claude Gruget, parisien_, Paris, Vincent Certena, or Jean Caveillier, +1559. + +This contains all the Queens tales excepting Nos. xi., xliv., and +xlvi., which Gruget replaced by others, probably written by himself. The +other stories are placed in their proper order, but none of the names +and passages suppressed by Boaistuau are restored. The phraseology of +the MSS., moreover, is still further modified and polished. + +The text adopted by Boaistuau and Gruget was followed, with a few +additional modifications, in all the editions issued during the later +years of the sixteenth century. Most of these are badly printed and +contain numerous typographical errors:-- + +III. _LHeptamron des Nouvelles, &c_. Reprint of Grugets edition, +sold by Vincent Sertenas, Gilles Robinot & Gilles Gille, and printed by +Benoist Prvost, Paris, 1560. + +IV. _LHeptamron des Nouvelles, &c_., 1560, 16mo. (No booksellers or +printers name appears in this edition. ) + +V. _LHeptamron, &c_. (Gruget). Guill. Rouill, Lyons, 1561, small +12mo; Gilles Gilles, Paris, 1561, 16mo. + +VI. The same. Norment & Bruneau, and Gilles Gilles, Paris, 1567, 16mo. + +VII. The same. Louys Cloquemin, Lyons, 1572, 16mo (reprinted in 1578 and +1581). + +VIII. The same. Michel de Roigny, Paris, 1574, 16mo (round letters). + +IX. The same. Gab. Buon, Paris, 1581, 16mo. + +X. The same. Abel LAngelier, Paris, 1581, 18mo. + +XI. The same. Jean Osmont, Rouen, 1598, 578 pp., sin. 12mo (good type). + +XII. The same. Romain Beauvais, Rouen, 1598, 589 pp. 12mo. + + +In the seventeenth century the _Heptameron_ was frequently reprinted, +Grugets text, with a few changes, being still followed until 1698, when +it occurred to some obscure literary man to put the tales into so-called +_beau langage_. At the same time the title of _Heptameron_, devised by +Gruget, was discarded (see post, No. XVI.). + +XIII. _LHeptamron_, &c., printed by Ch. Chappellein, Paris, 1607, +18mo. + +XIV. The same. _Sur Pimprim Paris_, J. Bessin (Holland), 1615, sm. +l2mo (reprinted in 1698, 2. vols. 12mo). + +XV. The same. David du Petit-Val, Rouen, 1625, 12mo. + +XVI. _Contes et Nouvelles de Marguerite de Valois, Reine de Navarre, mis +en beau langage_. Gallet, Amsterdam, 1698, 2 vols, sm. 8vo. This edition +is valued not for its _beau langage_, but for the copperplate engravings +illustrating it. These are coarsely executed, and are attributed to +Roman de Hooge, but do not bear his name. A reprint of the edition +appeared at Amsterdam in 1700. + +XVII. The same. Gallet, Amsterdam, 1708, 2 vols. sm. 8vo. Virtually a +reprint, but with several of the Roman de Hooge plates deficient, and +replaced by others signed Harrewyn. + +XVIII. The same. La Haye (Chartres), 1733, 2 vols. sm. 12mo. + +XIX. The same. Londres, 1744, 2 vols. 12mo. + +XX. Heptamron Franais, ou les Nouvelles de Marguerite, Reine de +Navarre; chez la Nouvelle Socit Typographique, Berne, 1780-1, 3 vols. +8vo. On some copies the title is simply, Nouvelles de Marguerite, +etc., Berne, 1781; on others Bat Louis Walthard is designated as the +publisher. + +For this edition were executed the copperplate engravings, designed by +Freudenberg and Dunker, which illustrate the present translation. It was +at first intended to issue the work in parts, but after parts i. and ii. +had been published (at 4 livres each) the project was abandoned. A few +copies of these two parts are in existence; they bear the date 1778. +Freudenberg began his designs in the previous year, and finished them in +1780. + +This edition is greatly prized for its illustrations; the text, however, +largely modified by Jean Rodolphe de Sinner, is without value. The work +was reissued at Paris in 1784 (8 vols, in 8vo, some copies 18mo), at +Berne in 1792, and again in Paris in 1807 (8 vols. 18mo). + + +The following new editions of the _Heptameron_ have appeared during the +present century:-- + +XXI. _Contes et Nouvelles de Marguerite, &c_. Dauthereau, Paris, 1828, 5 +vols. 32mo. (Collection des romans franais et trangers.) + +XXII. _LHeptamron, ou Histoire des Amants fortuns, &c, ancien texte +publi par C. Gruget.., revu, corrig et publi avec des notes, &c., +par le bibliophile Jacob_. Gosselin (Bibliothque dlite), Paris, 1841, +12mo. In this edition the Bibliophile Jacob (M. P. Lacroix) but +slightly modified Grugets text, and his annotation was comparatively +insignificant. His work was reproduced in a volume of the _Panthon +Littraire: Les vieux Conteurs franais_, Paris, 1841, 1. 8vo. (double +cols.). + +XXIII. _Heptamron des Nouvelles de... Margtierile dAngoulme... +publie sur les manuscrits par la Socit des Bibliophiles Franais_ (Le +Roux de Lincy, editor), Paris, 1853-4, 3 vols. sm. 18mo. + +In this edition the real text of the tales was printed for the first +time, M. de Lincy having carefully examined the best MSS. for this +purpose. The present English translation is based upon his work. Copies +of the Bibliophiles Franais edition, which contains a portrait of the +Queen, a facsimile of a miniature, and an engraving showing her arms and +device, cannot be purchased, when in fair condition, for less than 6 in +Paris. + +XXIV. _LHeptamron des Nouvelles, etc.... avec des notes et une +notice par P. L. Jacob, Bibliophile_ (Paul Lacroix). Adolphe Delahays, +_Bibliothque Gauloise_, Paris, 1858, 18mo. + +In this edition M. Lacroix, following M. de Lincys example, went to the +MSS. for his text, which he annotated with care and erudition. All his +notes of any importance are reproduced in the present translation. The +edition of 1858 was reprinted in 1875. + +XXV. _LHeptamron, &c_. Gamier frres, Paris, n.d., 1 vol. 18mo. +This was long the popular edition in France. The text, which is +considerably modernised, is of no value. + +XXVI. _Les sept Journes de la Reine de Navarre, suivies de la +huitime_. Paris, Librairie des Bibliophiles (Jouaust), 1872, 4 vols. +l6mo. + +In this edition Grugets text is followed; the notes, &c, are by M. +Lacroix. The work is prized for its illustrations (a portrait and eight +etchings) by Leopold Flameng. It was originally issued in eight parts. +The value of the copies varies according to the paper on which they are +printed. Those on India or Whatman paper, with a duplicate set of the +engravings, command high prices. The text has been reissued by the same +firm in two cr. 8vo vols, under the title of _LHeptamron des contes, +etc_. + +XXVII. _LHeptamron des Nouvelles, &c_, preface, notes, &c, by Benjamin +Pifteau, in the _Nouvelle Collection Jannet_, Alphonse Lemerre, Paris, +1875, 2 vols. l6mo. + +This, undoubtedly the best of all the cheap editions, has been reprinted +by Marpon & Flammarion, Paris, n.d. The text is from the MSS.; the +notes are mainly abbreviated from those of MM. de Lincy and Lacroix. M. +Pifteau supplies an introduction and glossary. + +XXVIII. _LHeptamron, &c., publi avec Introduction, Notes et Glossaire +par Flix Frank_. Liseux, Paris, 1879, 3 vols. 12mo. + +This, from the literary point of view, is one of the most important of +modern editions. The text is not taken from the same MS. as was followed +by M. de Lincy. The tales are preceded by a lengthy introduction, in +which the editor discusses Queen Margarets work and seeks to identify +the supposed narrators of her tales. He has frequently been quoted in +the notes to this translation. + +XXIX. _LHeptamron, &c, avec notes, variantes et glossaire par F. +Dillaye et notice par A. France_. A. Lemerre, Paris, 1879. + +A handy edition based on the MSS. The notes embody the substance of +M. de Lincys and M. Lacroixs researches with additional particulars +supplied by M. Dillaye, who has been quoted in the course of the present +work. + +XXX. _LHeptamron, &c., publi stir les manuscrits avec les notes de +MM. Le Poux de Lincy et Anatole de Montaiglon_. Auguste Eudes, Paris, +1880, 8 vols. 1. 8vo and 4 vols. cr. 8vo. + +The edition in 8 vols, (two copies of which on parchment were issued at +44 each; and twelve on Japanese paper at 20 each) is illustrated with +the Freudenberg plates; that in 4 vols, contains the text only. The text +is the same as that of No. XXIII.; but with additional notes, prefatory +matter, &c. The copyright attaching to this edition was acquired for +the present work, in which all M. de Montaiglons important notes are +reproduced. + + +Among the English translations of the _Heptameron_ are the following:-- + +_Heptameron_, or the _History of the Fortunate Lovers_, translated by +R. Codrington, London, 1654, 12mo. (Dedicated to Thomas Stanley, the +translator of Anacreon and editor of schylus, and based on Boaistuaus +defective text.) + +The _Heptameron of Margaret, Queen of Navarre, nota first translated +from the original text, by Walter K. Kelly_. Bohn (extra volume), +London, 1855. This has been several times reprinted. The translation +is a very free rendering of M. de Lincys text; many passages are +deficient. + +The _Heptameron, &c., translated from the original French by Arthur +Machen_. Privately printed (G. Redway), London, 1886, 1 vol. 1. 8vo. A +scholarly translation, not annotated; illustrated with the etchings by +Flameng (see _ante_, edition xxv.). + +_The Fortunate Lovers, twenty-seven novels of the Queen of Navarre, +translated by Arthur Machen, edited with notes and introduction by A. +Mary F. Robinson_. G. Redway, London, 1887, 8vo. Etched frontispiece +by G. P. Jacomb Hood. This only contains such of the tales as the +lady-editor considered unobjectionable. In her introduction she sketches +the life of Queen Margaret and discusses the identity of the supposed +narrators of the tales. Some of the notes are original, but the majority +are based upon the researches of French commentators.--Ed. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. V. +(of V.), by Margaret, Queen Of Navarre + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALES OF THE HEPTAMERON *** + +***** This file should be named 17705-8.txt or 17705-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17705/ + +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. 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(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. V. (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 #17705] +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 + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="cover (92K)" src="images/cover.jpg" width="100%" /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="spines (63K)" src="images/spines.jpg" width="100%" /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE TALES OF<br /> THE HEPTAMERON<br /> <br /> OF<br /> <br /> Margaret, Queen + of Navarre + </h1> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + <i>Newly Translated into English from the Authentic Text</i> <br /> <br /> + OF M. LE ROUX DE LINCY WITH <br /> <br /> AN ESSAY UPON THE HEPTAMERON <br /> + BY <br /> GEORGE SAINTSBURY, M.A. <br /> <br /> Also the Original + Seventy-three Full Page Engravings <br /> Designed by S. FREUDENBERG <br /> + <br /> And One Hundred and Fifty Head and Tail Pieces <br /> By DUNKER<br /> + <br /> <i>IN FIVE VOLUMES</i> + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + VOLUME THE FIFTH + </h2> + <h4> + LONDON: PRINTED FOR THE SOCIETY OF ENGLISH BIBLIOPHILISTS <br /> MDCCCXCIV + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + <tbody> + <tr> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17701/17701-h/17701-h.htm">Volume + I.</a> + </td> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17702/17702-h/17702-h.htm">Volume + II.</a> + </td> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17703/17703-h/17703-h.htm">Volume + III.</a> + </td> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17704/17704-h/17704-h.htm">Volume + IV.</a> + </td> + </tr> + </tbody> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="100%" alt="Frontispiece " /> + </div> + <h4> + [Margaret, Queen of Navarre, from a crayon drawing by Clouet, preserved at + the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="100%" alt="Titlepage " /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> <b>SIXTH DAY</b>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PROL6"> PROLOGUE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> <i>TALE LI</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> <i>TALE LII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> <i>TALE LIII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> <i>TALE LIV</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> <i>TALE LV</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> <i>TALE LVI</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> <i>TALE LVII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> <i>TALE LVIII.</i> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> <i>TALE LIX</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> <i>TALE LX</i>. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> <b>SEVENTH DAY</b>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PROL7"> PROLOGUE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> <i>TALE LXI</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> <i>TALE LXII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> <i>TALE LXIII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> <i>TALE LXIV</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> <i>TALE LXV</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> <i>TALE LXVI</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> <i>TALE LXVII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> <i>TALE LXVIII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> <i>TALE LXIX</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> <i>TALE LXX</i>. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> <b>EIGHTH DAY.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PROL8"> PROLOGUE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> <i>TALE LXXI</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> <i>TALE LXXII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_APPE"> APPENDIX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> THE SUPPOSED NARRATORS OF THE <i>HEPTAMERON</i> + TALES. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_BIBL"> BIBLIOGRAPHY. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + List of Illustrations + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0001"> Frontispiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0002"> Titlepage </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0003"> 005a.jpg the Duke of Urbino Sending The + Maiden to Prison for Carrying Messages </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0004"> 005.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0005"> 014.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0006"> 015a.jpg the Gentleman and his Friend Annoyed + by The Smell of Sugar </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0007"> 015.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0008"> 022.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0009"> 023a.jpg the Lord Des Cheriots Flying from + The Prince’s Servant </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0010"> 023.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0011"> 036.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0012"> 037a.jpg the Lady Watching The Shadow Faces + Kissing </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0013"> 037.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0014"> 042.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0015"> 043a.jpg the Servant Selling The Horse With + The Cat </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0016"> 043.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0017"> 049.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0018"> 051a.jpg the Grey Friar Introducing his + Comrade to The Lady and Her Daughter </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0019"> 051.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0020"> 061.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0021"> 063a.jpg the English Lord Seizing The Lady’s + Glove </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0022"> 063.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0023"> 070.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0024"> 071a. The Gentleman Mocked by The Ladies when + Returning from The False Tryst </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0025"> 071.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0026"> 078.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0027"> 079a. The Lady Discovering Her Husband With + The Waiting-woman </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0028"> 079.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0029"> 090.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0030"> 091a. The Chanter of Blois Delivering his + Mistress from The Grave </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0031"> 091.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0032"> 099.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0033"> 105a. The Lady Returning to Her Lover, The + Canon of Autun </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0034"> 105.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0035"> 117.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0036"> 119a. The Gentleman’s Spur Catching in The + Sheet </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0037"> 119.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0038"> 124.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0039"> 125a. The King Asking The Young Lord to Join + his Banquet </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0040"> 125.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0041"> 132.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0042"> 133a. The Lady Swooning in The Arms of The + Gentleman Of Valencia Who Had Become a Monk </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0043"> 133.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0044"> 141.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0045"> 143a. The Old Woman Startled by The Waking of + The Soldier </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0046"> 143.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0047"> 147.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0048"> 149a. The Old Serving-woman Explaining Her + Mistake To The Duke and Duchess of Vendôme </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0049"> 149.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0050"> 154.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0051"> 155a. The Wife Reading to Her Husband on The + Desert Island </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0052"> 155.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0053"> 161.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0054"> 163a. The Apothecary’s Wife Giving The Dose + of Cantharides To Her Husband </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0055"> 163.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0056"> 168.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0057"> 169a. The Wife Discovering Her Husband in The + Hood Of Their Serving-maid </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0058"> 169.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0059"> 174.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0060"> 175a. The Gentleman Killing Himself on The + Death of his Mistress </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0061"> 175.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0062"> 213.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0063"> 219a. The Saddler’s Wife Cured by The Sight + of Her Husband Caressing the Serving-maid </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0064"> 219.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0065"> 224.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0066"> 225a. The Monk Conversing With The Nun While + Shrouding A Dead Body </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0067"> 225.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0068"> 232.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_TOC" id="link2H_TOC"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DETAILED CONTENTS OF VOLUME V. + </h2> + <p> + <b>SIXTH DAY.</b> + </p> + <p> + Prologue + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008">Tale LI.</a> Cruelty of the Duke of Urbino, who, + contrary to the promise he had given to the Duchess, hanged a poor lady + that had consented to convey letters to his son’s sweetheart, the sister + of the Abbot of Farse. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009">Tale LII.</a> Merry trick played by the varlet of + an apothecary at Alençon on the Lord de la Tirelière and the lawyer + Anthony Bacheré, who, thinking to breakfast at his expense, find that they + have stolen from him something very different to a loaf of sugar. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010">Tale LIII.</a> Story of the Lady of Neufchâtel, a + widow at the Court of Francis I., who, through not admitting that she has + plighted her troth to the Lord des Cheriots, plays him an evil trick + through the means of the Prince of Belhoste. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011">Tale LIV.</a> Merry adventure of a serving-woman + and a gentleman named Thogas, whereof his wife has no suspicion. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012">Tale LV.</a> The widow of a merchant of + Saragossa, not wishing to lose the value of a horse, the price of which + her husband had ordered to be given to the poor, devises the plan of + selling the horse for one ducat only, adding, however, to the bargain a + cat at ninety-nine. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013">Tale LVI.</a> Notable deception practised by an + old Grey Friar of Padua, who, being charged by a widow to find a husband + for her daughter, did, for the sake of getting the dowry, cause her to + marry a young Grey Friar, his comrade, whose condition, however, was + before long discovered. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014">Tale LVII.</a> Singular behaviour of an English + lord, who is content merely to keep and wear upon his doublet the glove of + a lady whom he loves. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015">Tale LVIII.</a> A lady at the Court of Francis + I., wishing to prove that she has no commerce with a certain gentleman who + loves her, gives him a pretended tryst and causes him to pass for a thief. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016">Tale LIX.</a> Story of the same lady, who, + learning that her husband is in love with her waiting-woman, contrives to + surprise him and impose her own terms upon him. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017">Tale LX.</a> A man of Paris, thinking his wife to + be well and duly deceased, marries again, but at the end of fifteen years + is forced to take his first wife back, although she has been living + meantime with one of the chanters of Louis XII. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>SEVENTH DAY.</b> + </p> + <p> + Prologue + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020">Tale LXI.</a> Great kindness of a husband, who + consents to take back his wife twice over, spite of her wanton love for a + Canon of Autun. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021">Tale LXII.</a> How a lady, while telling a story + as of another, let her tongue trip in such a way as to show that what she + related had happened to herself. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022">Tale LXIII.</a> How the honourable behaviour of a + young lord, who feigns sickness in order to be faithful to his wife, + spoils a party in which he was to have made one with the King, and in this + way saves the honour of three maidens of Paris. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023">Tale LXIV.</a> Story of a gentleman of Valencia + in Spain, whom a lady drove to such despair that he became a monk, and + whom afterwards she strove in vain to win back to herself. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024">Tale LXV.</a> Merry mistake of a worthy woman, + who in the church of St. John of Lyons mistakes a sleeping soldier for one + of the statues on a tomb, and sets a lighted candle on his forehead. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025">Tale LXVI.</a> How an old serving-woman, thinking + to surprise a Prothonotary with a lady, finds herself insulting Anthony de + Bourbon and his wife Jane d’Albret. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026">Tale LXVII.</a> How the Sire de Robertval, + granting a traitor his life at the prayers of the man’s wife, set them + both down on a desert island, and how, after the husband’s death, the wife + was rescued and brought back to La Rochelle. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027">Tale LXVIII.</a> The wife of an apothecary at + Pau, hearing her husband give some powder of cantharides to a woman who + was godmother with himself, secretly administered to him such a dose of + the same drug that he nearly died. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028">Tale LXIX.</a> How the wife of one of the King’s + Equerries surprised her husband muffled in the hood of their servant-maid, + and bolting meal in her stead. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029">Tale LXX.</a> Of the love of a Duchess of + Burgundy for a gentleman who rejects her advances, for which reason she + accuses him to the Duke her husband, and the latter does not believe his + oaths till assured by him that he loves the Lady du Vergier. Then the + Duchess, having drawn knowledge of this amour from her husband, addresses + to the Lady du Vergier in public, an allusion that causes the death of + both lovers; and the Duke, in despair at his own lack of discretion, stabs + the Duchess himself. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>EIGHTH DAY.</b> + </p> + <p> + Prologue + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032">Tale LXXI.</a> The wife of a saddler of Amboise + is saved on her deathbed through a fit of anger at seeing her husband + fondle a servant-maid. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033">Tale LXXII.</a> Kindness of the Duchess of + Alençon to a poor nun whom she meets at Lyons, on her way to Rome, there + to confess to the Pope how a monk had wronged her, and to obtain his + Holiness’s pardon. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SIXTH DAY. + </h2> + <p> + <i>On the Sixth Day are related the deceits practised<br /> by Man on + Woman, Woman on Man, or<br /> Woman on Woman, through<br /> greed, revenge, + and<br /> wickedness</i>. <a name="link2H_PROL6" id="link2H_PROL6"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PROLOGUE. + </h2> + <p> + In the morning the Lady Oisille went earlier than was her wont to make + ready for her reading in the hall, but the company being advised of this, + and eager to hearken to her excellent instruction, used such despatch in + dressing themselves that she had not long to wait. Perceiving their + fervour, she set about reading them the Epistle of St. John the + Evangelist, which is full of naught but love, in the same wise as, on the + foregoing days, she had expounded to them St. Paul’s Epistle to the + Romans. The company found this fare so much to their taste, that, although + they tarried a half-hour longer than on the other days, it seemed to them + as if they had not remained there a quarter of an hour altogether. From + thence they proceeded to the contemplation of the mass, when one and all + commended themselves to the Holy Ghost in order that they might that day + be enabled to satisfy their merry audience; and, after they had broken + their fast and taken a little rest, they set out to resume their + accustomed diversion. + </p> + <p> + And the Lady Oisille asking who should begin the day, Longarine made + answer— + </p> + <p> + “I give my vote to Madame Oisille; she has this day read to us so + beauteous a lesson, that she can but tell us some story apt to crown the + glory which she won this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” said Oisille, “that I cannot tell you aught so profitable + this afternoon as I did in the morning. But at least the purport of my + story shall not depart from the teaching of Holy Scripture, where it is + written, ‘Trust not in princes, nor in the sons of men, in whom is not our + salvation.’ (1) And that this truth may not be forgotten by you for lack + of an example, I will tell you a tale which is quite true, and the memory + of which is so fresh that the eyes of those that saw the piteous sight are + scarcely yet dried.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/005a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="005a.jpg the Duke of Urbino Sending The Maiden to Prison for Carrying Messages Between his Son and His Sweetheart " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Duke of Urbino sending the Maiden to Prison for carrying<br /> + Messages between his Son and his Sweetheart] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/005.jpg" width="100%" alt="005.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LI</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>Because he would not have his son make a poor marriage, the + Duke of Urbino, contrary to the promise given to his wife, + hanged a young maiden by whom his son was wont to inform his + sweetheart of the love he bore her</i>. +</pre> + <p> + The Duke of Urbino, called the Prefect, (1) the same that married the + sister of the first Duke of Mantua, had a son of between eighteen and + twenty years of age, who was in love with a girl of an excellent and + honourable house, sister to the Abbot of Farse. (2) And since, according + to the custom of the country, he was not free to converse with her as he + wished, he obtained the aid of a gentleman in his service, who was in love + with a very beautiful and virtuous young damsel in the service of his + mother. By means of this damsel he informed his sweetheart of the deep + affection that he bore her; and the poor girl, thinking no harm, took + pleasure in doing him service, believing his purpose to be so good and + virtuous that she might honourably be the carrier of his intentions. But + the Duke, who had more regard for the profit of his house than for any + virtuous affection, was in such great fear lest these dealings should lead + his son (3) into marriage, that he caused a strict watch to be kept; + whereupon he was informed that the poor damsel had been concerned in + carrying some letters from his son to the lady he loved. On hearing this + he was in great wrath, and resolved to take the matter in hand. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 This is Francesco Maria I., della Rovere, nephew to Pope + Julius II., by whom he was created Prefect of Rome. Brought + up at the French Court, he became one of the great captains + of the period, especially distinguishing himself in the + command of the Venetian forces during the earlier part of + his career. He married Leonora Ypolita Gonzaga, daughter of + Francesco II., fourth Marquis of Mantua, respecting whom see + <i>ante</i>, vol. iii., notes to Tale XIX. It was Leonora rather + than her husband who imparted lustre to the Court of Urbino + at this period by encouraging arts and letters. Among those + who flourished there were Raffaelle and Baldassare + Castiglione. Francesco Maria, born in March 1491, died in + 1538 from the effects—so it is asserted by several + contemporary writers—of a poisonous lotion which a Mantuan + barber had dropped into his ear. His wife, who bore him two + sons (see post, note 3), died at the age of 72, in 1570.—L. + and Ed. + + 2 The French words are <i>Abbé de Farse</i>. Farse would appear + to be a locality, as abbots were then usually designated by + the names of their monasteries; still it may be intended for + the Abbot’s surname, and some commentators, adopting this + view, have suggested that the proper reading would be + Farnese.—Ed. + + 3 The Duke’s two sons were Federigo, born in March 1511, + and Guidobaldo, born in April 1514. The former according to + all authorities died when “young,” and probably long before + reaching man’s estate. Dennistoun, in his searching <i>Memoirs + of the Dukes of Urbino</i> (London, 1851), clearly shows that + for many years prior to Francesco Maria’s death his second + son Guidobaldo was the only child remaining to him. Already + in 1534, when but twenty years old, Guidobaldo was regarded + as his father’s sole heir and successor. In that year + Francesco Maria forced the young man to marry Giulia Varana, + a child of eleven, in order that he might lay claim to her + father’s state of Camerino and annex it to the duchy. There + is no record of Guidobaldo having ever engaged in any such + intrigue as related by Queen Margaret in the above tale, + still it must be to him that she refers, everything pointing + to the conclusion that his brother Federigo died in + childhood. Guidobaldo became Duke of Urbino on his father’s + death.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + He could not, however, conceal his anger so well that the maiden was not + advised of it, and knowing his wickedness, which was in her eyes as great + as his conscience was small, she felt a wondrous dread. Going therefore to + the Duchess, she craved leave to retire somewhere out of the Duke’s sight + until his passion should be past; but her mistress replied that, before + giving her leave to do so, she would try to find out her husband’s will in + the matter. + </p> + <p> + Very soon, however, the Duchess heard the Duke’s evil words concerning the + affair, and, knowing his temper, she not only gave the maiden leave, but + advised her to retire into a convent until the storm was over. This she + did as secretly as she could, yet not so stealthily but that the Duke was + advised of it. Thereupon, with pretended cheerfulness of countenance, he + asked his wife where the maiden was, and she, believing him to be well + aware of the truth, confessed it to him. He feigned to be vexed thereat, + saying that the girl had no need to behave in that fashion, and that for + his part he desired her no harm. And he requested his wife to cause her to + come back again, since it was by no means well to have such matters noised + abroad. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess replied that, if the poor girl was so unfortunate as to have + lost his favour, it were better for a time that she should not come into + his presence; however, he would not hearken to her reasonings, but + commanded her to bid the maiden return. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess failed not to make the Duke’s will known to the maiden; but + the latter, who could not but feel afraid, entreated her mistress that she + might not be compelled to run this risk, saying that she knew the Duke was + not so ready to forgive her as he feigned to be. Nevertheless, the Duchess + assured her that she should take no hurt, and pledged her own life and + honour for her safety. + </p> + <p> + The girl, who well knew that her mistress loved her, and would not lightly + deceive her, trusted in her promise, believing that the Duke would never + break a pledge when his wife’s honour was its warranty. And accordingly + she returned to the Duchess. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the Duke knew this, he failed not to repair to his wife’s + apartment. There, as soon as he saw the maiden, he said to his wife, “So + such-a-one has returned,” and turning to his gentlemen, he commanded them + to arrest her and lead her to prison. + </p> + <p> + At this the poor Duchess, who by the pledging of her word had drawn the + maiden from her refuge, was in such despair that, falling upon her knees + before her husband, she prayed that for love of herself and of his house + he would not do so foul a deed, seeing that it was in obedience to himself + that she had drawn the maiden from her place of safety. + </p> + <p> + But no prayer that she could utter availed to soften his hard heart, or to + overcome his stern resolve to be avenged. Without making any reply, he + withdrew as speedily as possible, and, foregoing all manner of trial, and + forgetting God and the honour of his house, he cruelly caused the hapless + maiden to be hanged. + </p> + <p> + I cannot undertake to recount to you the grief of the Duchess; it was such + as beseemed a lady of honour and a tender heart on beholding one, whom she + would fain have saved, perish through trust in her own plighted faith. + Still less is it possible to describe the deep affliction of the unhappy + gentleman, the maiden’s lover, who failed not to do all that in him lay to + save his sweetheart’s life, offering to give his own for hers; but no + feeling of pity moved the heart of this Duke, whose only happiness was + that of avenging himself on those whom he hated. (4) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 4 That Francesco-Maria was a man of a hasty, violent + temperament is certain. Much that Guicciardini relates of + him was doubtless penned in a spirit of resentment, for + during the time the historian lived at Urbino the Duke + repeatedly struck him, and on one occasion felled him to the + ground, with the sneering remark, “Your business is to + confer with pedants.” On the other hand, however, there is + independent documentary evidence in existence—notably + among the Urbino MSS. in the Vatican library—which shows + that Francesco-Maria in no wise recoiled from shedding + blood. He was yet in his teens when it was reported to him + that his sister—the widow of Venanzio of Camerino, killed + by Caesar Borgia—had secretly married a certain Giovanni + Andrea of Verona and borne him a son. Watching his + opportunity, Francesco-Maria set upon the unfortunate Andrea + one day in the ducal chamber and then and there killed him, + though not without resistance, for Andrea only succumbed + after receiving <i>four-and-twenty</i> stabs with his murderer’s + poignard (Urbino MSS. Vat. No. 904). A few years later, in + 1511, Francesco-Maria assassinated the Papal Legate + Alidosio, Cardinal Archbishop of Pavia, whom he encountered + in the environs of Bologna riding his mule and followed by a + hundred light horse. Nevertheless Urbino, with only a small + retinue, galloped up to him, plunged a dagger into his + stomach and fled before the soldiery could intervene. From + these examples it will be seen that, although history has + preserved no record of the affair related by Queen Margaret, + her narrative may well be a true one.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + Thus, in spite of every law of honour, was the innocent maiden put to + death by this cruel Duke, to the exceeding sorrow of all that knew her. + </p> + <p> + “See, ladies, what are the effects of wickedness when this is combined + with power.” + </p> + <p> + “I had indeed heard,” said Longarine, “that the Italians were prone to + three especial vices; but I should not have thought that vengeance and + cruelty would have gone so far as to deal a cruel death for so slight a + cause.” + </p> + <p> + “Longarine,” said Saffredent, laughing, “you have told us one of the three + vices, but we must also know the other two.” + </p> + <p> + “If you did not know them,” she replied, “I would inform you, but I am + sure that you know them all.” + </p> + <p> + “From your words,” said Saffredent, “it seems that you deem me very + vicious.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so,” said Longarine, “but you so well know the ugliness of vice that, + better than any other, you are able to avoid it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not be amazed,” said Simontault, “at this act of cruelty. Those who + have passed through Italy have seen such incredible instances, that this + one is in comparison but a trifling peccadillo.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, truly,” said Geburon. “When Rivolta was taken by the French, (5) + there was an Italian captain who was esteemed a knightly comrade, but on + seeing the dead body of a man who was only his enemy in that being a + Guelph he was opposed to the Ghibellines, he tore out his heart, broiled + it on the coals and devoured it. And when some asked him how he liked it, + he replied that he had never eaten so savoury or dainty a morsel. Not + content with this fine deed, he killed the dead man’s wife, and tearing + out the fruit of her womb, dashed it against a wall. Then he filled the + bodies both of husband and wife with oats and made his horses eat from + them. Think you that such a man as that would not surely have put to death + a girl whom he suspected of offending him?” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 5 Rivolta or Rivoli was captured by the French under Louis + XII. in 1509. An instance of savagery identical in character + with that mentioned by “Geburon” had already occurred at the + time of Charles VIII.‘s expedition to Naples, when the + culprit, a young Italian of good birth, was seized and + publicly executed.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “It must be acknowledged,” said Ennasuite, “that this Duke of Urbino was + more afraid that his son might make a poor marriage than desirous of + giving him a wife to his liking.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you can have no doubt,” replied Simon-tault, “that it is the + Italian nature to love unnaturally that which has been created only for + nature’s service.” + </p> + <p> + “Worse than that,” said Hircan, “they make a god of things that are + contrary to nature.” + </p> + <p> + “And there,” said Longarine, “you have another one of the sins that I + meant; for we know that to love money, excepting so far as it be + necessary, is idolatry.” + </p> + <p> + Parlamente then said that St. Paul had not forgotten the vices of the + Italians, and of all those who believe that they exceed and surpass others + in honour, prudence and human reason, and who trust so strongly to this + last as to withhold from God the glory that is His due. Wherefore the + Almighty, jealous of His honour, renders’ those who believe themselves + possessed of more understanding than other men, more insensate even than + wild the beasts, causing them to show by their unnatural deeds that their + sense is reprobate. + </p> + <p> + Longarine here interrupted Parlamente to say that this was indeed the + third sin to which the Italians were prone. + </p> + <p> + “By my faith,” said Nomerfide, “this discourse is very pleasing to me, + for, since those that possess the best trained and acutest understandings + are punished by being made more witless even than wild beasts, it must + follow that such as are humble, and low, and of little reach, like myself, + are filled with the wisdom of angels.” + </p> + <p> + “I protest to you,” said Oisille, “that I am not far from your opinion, + for none is more ignorant than he who thinks he knows.” + </p> + <p> + “I have never seen a mocker,” said Geburon, “that was not mocked, a + deceiver that was not deceived, or a boaster that was not humbled.” + </p> + <p> + “You remind me,” said Simontault, “of a deceit which, had it been of a + seemly sort, I would willingly have related.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Oisille, “since we are here to utter truth, I give you my + vote that you may tell it to us whatsoever its nature may be.” + </p> + <p> + “Since you give place to me,” said Simontault, “I will tell it you.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/014.jpg" width="100%" alt="014.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/015a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="015a.jpg the Gentleman and his Friend Annoyed by The Smell of That Which They Thought Was Sugar " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Gentleman and his Friend annoyed by The Smell of that <br /> which + they Thought was Sugar] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/015.jpg" width="100%" alt="015.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>An apothecary s man, espying behind him an advocate who was + to plague him, and on whom he desired to be revenged, + dropped from his sleeve a lump of frozen ordure, wrapped in + paper like a sugar-loaf, which a gentleman who was with the + advocate picked up and hid in his bosom, and then went to + breakfast at a tavern, whence he came forth with all the + cost and shame that he had thought to bring upon the poor + varlet</i>. +</pre> + <p> + Near the town of Alençon there lived a gentleman called the Lord of La + Tireliere, who one morning came from his house to the town afoot, both + because the distance was not great and because it was freezing hard. (1) + When he had done his business, he sought out a crony of his, an advocate + named Anthony Bacheré, and, after speaking with him of his affairs, he + told him that he should much like to meet with a good breakfast, but at + somebody else’s expense. While thus discussing, they sat themselves down + in front of an apothecary’s shop, where there was a varlet who listened to + them, and who forthwith resolved to give them their breakfast. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 The phraseology of this story varies considerably in the + different MSS. of the <i>Heptameron</i>. In No. 1520, for + instance, the tale begins as follows: “In the town of + Alençon, in the time of the last Duke Charles, there was an + advocate, a merry companion, fond of breakfasting o’ + mornings. One day, whilst he sat at his door, he saw pass a + gentleman called the Lord of La Tilleriere, who, by reason + of the extreme cold, had come on foot from his house to the + town in order to attend to certain business there, and in + doing so had not forgotten to put on his great robe, lined + with fox-skin. And when he saw the advocate, who was much + such a man as himself, he told him that he had completed his + business, and had nothing further to do, except it were to + find a good breakfast. The advocate made answer that they + could find breakfasts enough and to spare, provided they had + some one to defray the cost, and, taking the other under the + arm, he said to him, ‘Come, gossip, we may perhaps find some + fool who will pay the reckoning for us both.’ Now behind + them was an apothecary’s man, an artful and inventive + fellow, whom this advocate was always plaguing,” &c.—L. +</pre> + <p> + He went out from his shop into a street whither all repaired on needful + occasions, (2) and there found a large lump of ordure standing on end, and + so well frozen that it looked like a small loaf of fine sugar. Forthwith + he wrapped it in handsome white paper, in the manner he was wont to use + for the attraction of customers, and hid it in his sleeve. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 In olden time, as shown in the <i>Mémoires de l’Académie de + Troyes</i>, there were in most French towns streets specially + set aside for the purpose referred to. At Alençon, in Queen + Margaret’s time, there was a street called the Rue des + Fumiers, as appears from a report dated March 8, 1564 + (Archives of the Orne, Series A). Probably it is to this + street that she alludes. (Communicated by M. L. Duval, + archivist of the department of the Orne).—M. +</pre> + <p> + Afterwards he came and passed in front of the gentleman and the advocate, + and, letting the sugar-loaf (3) fall near them, as if by mischance, went + into a house whither he had pretended to be carrying it. + </p> + <p> + The Lord of La Tirelière (4) hastened back with all speed to pick up what + he thought to be a sugar-loaf, and just as he had done so the apothecary’s + man also came back looking and asking for his sugar everywhere. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 M. Duval, archivist of the Orne, states that La + Tirelière, which is situated near St. Germain-du-Corbois, + within three miles of Alençon, is an old <i>gentilhommière</i> or + manor-house, surrounded by a moat. It was originally a + simple <i>vavassonrie</i> held in fief from the Counts and Dukes + of Alençon by the Pantolf and Crouches families, and in the + seventeenth century was merged into the marquisate of + L’Isle.—M. + + 4 Sugar was at this period sold by apothecaries, and was a + rare and costly luxury. There were loaves of various sizes, + but none so large as those of the present time.—M. +</pre> + <p> + The gentleman, thinking that he had cleverly tricked him, then went in + haste to a tavern with his crony, to whom he said— + </p> + <p> + “Our breakfast has been paid for at the cost of that varlet.” + </p> + <p> + When he was come to the tavern he called for good bread, good wine and + good meat, for he thought that he had wherewith to pay. But whilst he was + eating, as he began to grow warm, his sugar-loaf in its turn began to thaw + and melt, and filled the whole room with the smell peculiar to it, + whereupon he, who carried it in his bosom, grew wroth with the + waiting-woman, and said to her— + </p> + <p> + “You are the filthiest folks that ever I knew in this town, for either you + or your children have strewn all this room with filth.” + </p> + <p> + “By St. Peter!” replied the woman, “there is no filth here unless you have + brought it in yourselves.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon they rose, by reason of the great stench that they smelt, and + went up to the fire, where the gentleman drew out of his bosom a + handkerchief all dyed with the melted sugar, and on opening his robe, + lined with fox-skin, found it to be quite spoiled. + </p> + <p> + And all that he was able to say to his crony was this— + </p> + <p> + “The rogue whom we thought to deceive has deceived us instead.” + </p> + <p> + Then they paid their reckoning and went away as vexed as they had been + merry on their arrival, when they fancied they had tricked the + apothecary’s varlet. (5) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 5 In MS. 1520, this tale ends in the following manner:— + “They were no sooner in the street than they perceived the + apothecary’s man going about and making inquiry of every one + whether they had not seen a loaf of sugar wrapped in paper. + They [the advocate and his companion] sought to avoid him, + but he called aloud to the advocate, ‘If you have my loaf of + sugar, sir, I beg that you will give it back to me, for ‘tis + a double sin to rob a poor servant.’ His shouts brought to + the spot many people curious to witness the dispute, and the + true circumstances of the case were so well proven, that the + apothecary’s man was as glad to have been robbed as the + others were vexed at having committed such a nasty theft. + However, they comforted themselves with the hope that they + might some day give him tit for tat.”—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “Often, ladies, do we see the like befall those who delight in using such + cunning. If the gentleman had not sought to eat at another’s expense, he + would not have drunk so vile a beverage at his own. It is true, ladies, + that my story is not a very clean one, but you gave me license to speak + the truth, and I have done so in order to show you that no one is sorry + when a deceiver is deceived.” + </p> + <p> + “It is commonly said,” replied Hircan, “that words have no stink, yet + those for whom they are intended do not easily escape smelling them.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” said Oisille, “that such words do not stink, but there are + others which are spoken of as nasty, and which are of such evil odour that + they disgust the soul even more than the body is disgusted when it smells + such a sugar-loaf as you described in the tale.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you,” said Hircan, “tell me what words you know of so foul as to + sicken both the heart and soul of a virtuous woman.” + </p> + <p> + “It would indeed be seemly,” replied Oisille, “that I should tell you + words which I counsel no woman to utter.” + </p> + <p> + “By that,” said Saffredent, “I quite understand what those terms are. They + are such as women desirous of being held discreet do not commonly employ. + But I would ask all the ladies present why, when they dare not utter them, + they are so ready to laugh at them when they are used in their presence.” + </p> + <p> + Then said Parlamente— + </p> + <p> + “We do not laugh because we hear such pretty expressions, though it is + indeed true that every one is disposed to laugh on seeing anybody stumble + or on hearing any one utter an unfitting word, as often happens. The + tongue will trip and cause one word to be used for another, even by the + discreetest and most excellent speakers. But when you men talk viciously, + not from ignorance, but by reason of your own wickedness, I know of no + virtuous woman who does not feel a loathing for such speakers, and who + would not merely refuse to hearken to them, but even to remain in their + company.” + </p> + <p> + “That is very true,” responded Geburon. “I have frequently seen women make + the sign of the cross on hearing certain words spoken, and cease not in + doing so after these words had been uttered a second time.” + </p> + <p> + “But how many times,” said Simontault, “have they put on their masks (6) + in order to laugh as freely as they pretended to be angry?” + </p> + <p> + “Yet it were better to do this,” said Parlamente, “than to let it be seen + that the talk pleased them.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Dagoucin, “you praise a lady’s hypocrisy no less than her + virtue?” + </p> + <p> + “Virtue would be far better,” said Longarine, “but, when it is lacking, + recourse must be had to hypocrisy, just as we use our slippers (7) to + disguise our littleness. And it is no small matter to be able to conceal + our imperfections.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 8 <i>Tourets-de-nez</i>. <i>See ante</i>, vol. iii. p. 27, note 5.—Ed. + + 7 High-heeled slippers or <i>mules</i> were then worn.—B. J. +</pre> + <p> + “By my word,” said Hircan, “it were better sometimes to show some slight + imperfection than to cover it so closely with the cloak of virtue.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” said Ennasuitc, “that a borrowed garment brings the borrower + as much dishonour when he is constrained to return it as it brought him + honour whilst it was being worn, and there is a lady now living who, by + being too eager to conceal a small error, fell into a greater.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Hircan, “that I know whom you mean; in any case, however, + do not pronounce her name.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho! ho!” said Geburon [to Ennasuite], “I give you my vote on condition + that when you have related the story you will tell us the names. We will + swear never to mention them.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise it,” said Knnasuite, “for there is nothing that may not be told + in all honour.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/022.jpg" width="100%" alt="022.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/023a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="023a.jpg the Lord Des Cheriots Flying from The Prince’s Servant " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Lord des Cheriots flying from the Prince’s Servant] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/023.jpg" width="100%" alt="023.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LIII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>By her dissimulation the Lady of Neufchastel caused the + Prince of Belhoste to put her to such proof that it turned + to her dishonour</i>. +</pre> + <p> + King Francis the First was once at a handsome and pleasant castle, whither + he had gone with a small following, both for the purpose of hunting and in + order to take some repose. With him in his train was a certain Prince of + Belhoste, (1) as worshipful, virtuous, discreet and handsome a Prince as + any at Court. The wife he had married did not belong to a family of high + rank, yet he loved her as dearly and treated her as well as it were + possible for a husband to do, and also trusted in her. And when he was in + love with anybody he never concealed it from her, knowing that she had no + other will than his own. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 The Bibliophile Jacob surmises that this personage may be + one of the Italian grandees at that period in the service of + France, in which case the allusion may be to John + Caraccioli, Prince of Melphes, created a marshal of France + in 1544. Queen Margaret, however, makes no mention of her + Prince being a foreigner. “Belhoste” is of course a + fictitious name invented to replace that which the Prince + really bore, and admits of so many interpretations that its + meaning in the present instance cannot well be determined. + From the circumstance, however, that the Prince’s wife was + of inferior birth to himself, it is not impossible that the + personage referred to may be either Charles de Bourbon, + Prince of La Roche-sur-Yonne and Duke of Beaupréau, or John + VIII., Lord of Créqui, Canaples and Pontdormi, and Prince of + Poix. The former, who married Philippa de Montespedon, widow + of René de Montéjan, and a lady of honour to Catherine de’ + Medici when Dauphiness, took a prominent part in the last + wars of Francis I.‘s reign, and survived till 1565. The + latter, generally known at Court by the name of Canaples, + was a gentleman of the chamber and an especial favourite of + Francis I. Brantôme says of him in his <i>Homines Illustres</i> + that he was “a valiant lord and the strongest man of arms + that in those days existed in all Christendom, for he broke + a lance, no matter its strength, as easily as though it were + a mere switch, and few were able to withstand him.” In 1525 + the Prince of Poix married a Demoiselle d’Acigné or Assigny, + of <i>petite noblesse</i>, who in 1532 became a lady of honour to + Queen Eleanor. She died in 1558, surviving her husband by + three years. See Rouard’s rare <i>Notice dun Recueil de + Crayons à la Bibliothèque Méjanes d’Aix</i>, Paris, 1863.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + Now this Prince conceived a deep affection for a widow lady called Madame + de Neufchastel, (2) who was reputed the most beautiful woman it were + possible to see; and if the Prince of Bel-hoste loved her well, his wife + loved her no less, and would often send and bid her to dinner, for she + deemed her so discreet and honourable, that, instead of being grieved by + her husband’s love for her, she rejoiced to see him address his attentions + to one so full of honour and virtue. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 M. Lacroix thinks that this lady may be Jane de Hochberg, + only daughter of Philip, sovereign Count of Neufchâtel. + According to the custom of the time, she was commonly called + Madame de Neufchâtel, despite her marriage with Louis + d’Orléans, Duke of Longueville. She died in 1543, after a + lengthy widowhood. We consider the accuracy of M. Lacroix’s + surmise to be extremely doubtful, for the names of both the + men figuring in the story are obviously altered so as to + conceal their identity, and it is therefore not likely that + Queen Margaret would designate the lady by her real name, + and thus publish her shame to the world. The Madame de + Neufchâtel she speaks of may really have been a Madame de + Châteauneuf, Châteauvieux or Maisonneuve; or we may again be + in presence of Margaret’s lady of honour, the widowed + Blanche de Chastillon, <i>née</i> de Tournon, to whom frequent + reference has been made.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + This affection lasted for a great while, the Prince of Belhoste caring for + all the lady’s affairs as though they were his own, and his wife doing no + less. By reason, however, of her beauty many great lords and gentlemen + earnestly sought the lady’s favour, some only for love’s sake, others for + sake of the ring, for, besides being beautiful, she was also very rich. + </p> + <p> + Among the rest was a young gentleman, called the Lord des Cheriots, (3) + who wooed her so ardently that he was never absent from her levee and + couchée, and was also with her as much as possible during the day. This + did not please the Prince of Belhoste, who thought that a man of such poor + estate, and so lacking in grace, did not deserve an honourable and + gracious reception, and he often made remonstrances about it to the lady. + She, however, being one of Eve’s daughters, (4) excused herself by saying + that she spoke with every one in general, and that their own affection was + the better concealed, since she never spoke more with one than with + another. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 “Des Cheriots” (occasionally Des Cheriotz in the MS.) may + be a play upon the name of D’Escars, sometimes written Des + Cars. According to La Curne de Ste. Palaye <i>car</i> as well as + <i>char</i> signified chariot. The D’Escars dukedom is modern, + dating from 1815, and in the time of Francis I. the family + was of small estate. Some members of it may well have filled + inferior offices about the court, as in 1536 a Demoiselle + Suzanne d’Escars married Geoffrey de Pompadour, who was both + a prothonotary and cupbearer to Francis I., and lived to + become Governor of the Limousin under Charles IX.—M. and + Ed. + + 4 We take this expression from MS. 1520. Ours says, “a + daughter of the Duke,” which is evidently an error.—L. +</pre> + <p> + Albeit, after some time, this Lord des Cheriots so pressed her that, more + through his importunity than through love, she promised to marry him, + begging him, however, not to urge her to reveal the marriage until her + daughters were wedded. After this the gentleman was wont to go with + untroubled conscience to her chamber at whatsoever hour he chose, and none + but a waiting-woman and a serving-man had knowledge of the matter. + </p> + <p> + When the Prince perceived that the gentleman was growing more and more + familiar in the house of her whom he so dearly loved, he took it in + ill-part, and could not refrain from saying to the lady— + </p> + <p> + “I have always prized your honour like that of my own sister, and you are + aware of the honourable manner in which I have addressed you, and the + happiness that I have in loving a lady as discreet and virtuous as + yourself; but did I think that another who deserves it not could win by + importunity that which I am not willing to crave, contrary to your own + desire, this would be unendurable to me, and in the like degree + dishonouring to you. I tell you this because you are beautiful and young, + and although hitherto of good repute, are now beginning to gain a very + evil fame. Even though he be not your equal in birth or fortune, and have + less influence, knowledge and address, yet it were better to have married + him than to give all men matter for suspicion. I pray you, therefore, tell + me whether you are resolved to love him, for I will not have him as fellow + of mine. I would rather leave you altogether to him, and put away from me + the feelings that I have hitherto borne you.” + </p> + <p> + The poor lady, fearful of losing his affection, thereupon began to weep, + and vowed to him that she would rather die than wed the gentleman of whom + he had spoken, but (she added) he was so importunate that she could not + help his entering her chamber at a time when every one else did so. + </p> + <p> + “Of such times as those,” said the Prince, “I do not speak, for I can go + as well as he, and see all what you are doing. But I have been told that + he goes after you are in bed, and this I look upon as so extraordinary + that, if you should continue in this mode of life without declaring him to + be your husband, you will be disgraced more than any woman that ever + lived.” + </p> + <p> + She swore to him with all the oaths she could utter that the other was + neither her husband nor her lover, but only as importunate a gentleman as + there well could be. + </p> + <p> + “Since he is troublesome to you,” said the Prince, “I promise you that I + will rid you of him.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” asked the lady. “Would you kill him?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said the Prince, “but I will give him to understood that it is + not in such a place as this, not in such a house as the King’s, that + ladies are to be put to shame. And I swear to you by the faith of the + lover that I am, that if, after I have spoken with him, he does not + correct himself, I will correct him in such a manner as to make him a + warning to others.” + </p> + <p> + So saying he went away, and on leaving the room failed not to meet the + Lord des Cheriots on his way in. To him he spoke after the fashion that + you have heard, assuring him that the first time he was found there after + an hour at which gentlemen might reasonably visit the ladies, he would + give him such a fright as he would ever remember. And he added that the + lady was of too noble a house to be trifled with after such a fashion. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman protested that he had never been in the room except in the + same manner as the rest, and, if the Prince should find him there, he gave + him full leave to do his worst. + </p> + <p> + One day afterwards, when the gentleman believed the Prince’s words to have + been forgotten, he went to see his lady in the evening, and remained + sufficiently late. + </p> + <p> + The Prince [that same evening] told his wife that Madame de Neufchastel + had a severe cold, upon hearing which the worthy lady begged that he would + visit her on behalf of them both, and make excuse for herself, since she + could not go by reason of a certain matter that she must needs attend to + in her room. + </p> + <p> + The Prince waited until the King was in bed, and then went to give the + lady good-evening, but as he was going up a stairway he met a serving-man + coming down, who, on being asked how his mistress did, swore that she was + in bed and asleep. + </p> + <p> + The Prince went down the stairway, but, suspecting that the servant had + lied, looked behind and saw him going back again with all speed. He walked + about the courtyard in front of the door to see whether the servant would + return. A quarter of an hour later he perceived him come down again and + look all about to see who was in the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + Forthwith the Prince was convinced that the Lord des Cheriots was in the + lady’s chamber, but through fear of himself durst not come down, and he + therefore again walked about for a long-while. + </p> + <p> + At last, observing that the lady’s room had a casement which was not at + all high up, and which looked upon a little garden, he remembered the + proverb which says, “When the door fails the window avails,” and he + thereupon called a servant of his own, and said to him— + </p> + <p> + “Go into the garden there behind, and, if you see a gentleman come down + from the window, draw your sword as soon as he reaches the ground, clash + it against the wall, and cry out, ‘Slay! slay!’ Be careful, however, that + you do not touch him.” + </p> + <p> + The servant went whither his master had sent him, and the Prince walked + about until three hours after midnight. + </p> + <p> + When the Lord des Cheriots heard that the Prince was still in the yard, he + resolved to descend by the window, and, having first thrown clown his + cloak, he then, by the help of his good friends, leapt into the garden. As + soon as the servant saw him, he failed not to make a noise with his sword, + at the same time crying, “Slay! slay!” Upon this the poor gentleman, + believing it was his [the servant’s] master, was in such great fear that, + without thinking of his cloak, he fled as quickly as he was able. + </p> + <p> + He met the archers of the watch, who wondered greatly to see him running + in this fashion, but he durst say nothing to them, except to beg them to + open him the gate [of the castle], or else to lodge him with themselves + until morning. And this, as they had not the keys, they did. + </p> + <p> + Then the Prince went to bed, and, finding his wife asleep, awoke her + saying— + </p> + <p> + “Guess, my wife, what hour it is.‘’ + </p> + <p> + “I have not heard the clock strike since I went to bed,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “It is three hours after midnight,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “If that be so,” said his wife, “where have you been all this time? I + greatly fear that your health will be the worse for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Sweetheart,” said the Prince, “watching will never make me ill when I am + engaged in preventing those who try to deceive me from going to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he began to laugh so heartily that his wife begged him to tell + her of the matter. This he did at length, showing her the wolf’s skin (4) + which his servant had brought him. After making merry at the expense of + the hapless lovers, they went to sleep in gentle tranquillity, while the + other two passed the night in torment, fearing and dreading lest the + affair should be revealed. + </p> + <p> + However, the gentleman, knowing right well that he could not use + concealment with the Prince, came to him in the morning when he was + dressing to beg that he would not expose him, and would give orders for + the return of his cloak. + </p> + <p> + The Prince pretended that he knew nothing of the matter, and put such a + face on it that the gentleman was wholly at a loss what to think. But in + the end he received a rating that he had not expected, for the Prince + assured him that, if ever he went to the lady’s room again, he would tell + the King of it, and have him banished the Court. + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, ladies, judge whether it had not been better for this poor + lady to have spoken freely to him who did her the honour of loving and + esteeming her, instead of leading him by her dissimulation to prove her in + a way that brought her so much shame.” + </p> + <p> + “She knew,” said Geburon, “that if she confessed the truth she would + wholly lose his favour, and this she on no account desired to do.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” said Longarine, “that when she had chosen a husband to + her liking, she ought not to have feared the loss of any other man’s + affection.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure,” said Parlamente, “that if she had dared to reveal her + marriage, she would have been quite content with her husband; but she + wished to hide it until her daughters were wed, and so she would not + abandon so good a means of concealment.” + </p> + <p> + “It was not for that reason,” said Saffredent, “but because the ambition + of women is so great that they are never satisfied with having only one + lover. I have heard that the discreetest of them are glad to have three—one, + namely, for honour, one for profit, and one for delight. Each of the three + thinks himself loved the best, but the first two are as servants to the + last.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak,” said Oisille, “of such women as have neither love nor + honour.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said Saffredent, “there are some of the kind that I describe, + whom you reckon among the most honourable in the land.” + </p> + <p> + “You may be sure,” said Hircan, “that a crafty woman will be able to live + where all others die of hunger.” + </p> + <p> + “And,” said Longarine, “when their craftiness is discerned, ‘tis death.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, ‘tis life,” said Simontault, “for they deem it no small glory to be + reputed more crafty than their fellows. And the reputation of ‘crafty,’ + gained thus at their own expense, brings lovers more readily under + subjection to them than does their beauty, for one of the greatest + delights shared by those who are in love is to conduct the affair slyly.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak,” said Ennasuite, “of wanton love, for the honourable has no + need of concealment.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Dagoucin, “I pray you put that thought out of your head. The + more precious the drug, the less should it be exposed to the air, because + of the perverseness of those who trust only to outward signs. These are + not different in the case of honourable and faithful affection than in any + other case, so they must none the less be hidden when the love is virtuous + than when it is the opposite, if one would avoid the evil opinion of those + who cannot believe that a man may love a lady in all honour, and who, + being themselves slaves to pleasure, think every one else the same. If we + were all of good faith, look and speech would be without concealment, at + least toward those who would rather die than take them in an evil sense.” + </p> + <p> + “I protest to you, Dagoucin,” said Hircan, “that your philosophy is too + deep for any man here to understand or believe. You would have us think + that men are angels, or stones, or devils.” + </p> + <p> + “I am well aware,” said Dagoucin, “that men are men and subject to every + passion, but there are some, nevertheless, who would rather die than that + their mistresses should, for their delight, do aught against their + consciences.” + </p> + <p> + “To die means a great deal,” said Geburon. “I would not believe that of + them were it uttered by the lips of the austerest monk alive.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I believe,” said Hircan, “that there is none but desires the very + opposite. But they make pretence of disliking the grapes when these hang + too high to be gathered.” + </p> + <p> + “Still,” said Nomcrfide, “I am sure that the Prince’s wife was very glad + to find that her husband was learning to know women.” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you it was not so,” said Ennasuite. “She was very sorry on + account of the love that she bore the lady.” + </p> + <p> + “I would as soon,” said Saffredent, “have the lady who laughed when her + husband kissed her maid.” + </p> + <p> + “In sooth,” said Ennasuite, “you shall tell us the story. I give place to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Although the story is very short,” said Saffredent, “I will still relate + it, for I would rather make you laugh than speak myself at length.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/036.jpg" width="100%" alt="036.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/037a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="037a.jpg the Lady Watching The Shadow Faces Kissing " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/037.jpg" width="100%" alt="037.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LIV</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>Thogas’s wife, believing that her husband loved none but + herself, was pleased that her serving-woman should amuse + him, and laughed when in her presence he kissed the girl + before her eyes, and with her knowledge</i>. +</pre> + <p> + Between the Pyrenees Mountains and the Alps, there dwelt a gentleman named + Thogas, (1) who had a wife and children, with a very beautiful house, and + so much wealth and pleasure at his hand, that there was reason he should + live in contentment, had it not been that he was subject to great pain + beneath the roots of the hair, in such wise that the doctors advised him + to sleep no longer with his wife. She, whose chief thought was for her + husband’s life and health, readily consented, and caused her bed to be set + in another corner of the room directly opposite her husband’s, so that + they could neither of them put out their heads without seeing each other. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 We are unable to trace any family named Thogas, which is + probably a fictitious appellation. Read backwards with the + letter h omitted it forms Sagot, whilst if the syllables be + transposed it suggests Guasto, a well-known Basque or + Navarrese name.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + This lady had two serving-women, and often when the lord and his lady were + in bed, they would each take some diverting book to read, whilst the + serving-women held candles, the younger, that is, for the gentleman, and + the other for his wife. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, finding that the maid was younger and handsomer than her + mistress, took such great pleasure in observing her that he would break + off his reading in order to converse with her. His wife could hear this + very plainly, but believing that her husband loved none but herself, she + was well pleased that her servants should amuse him. + </p> + <p> + It happened one evening, however, when they had read longer than was their + wont, that the lady looked towards her husband’s bed where was the young + serving-maid holding the candle. Of her she could see nothing but her + back, and of her husband nothing at all excepting on the side of the + chimney, which jutted out in front of his bed, and the white wall of which + was bright with the light from the candle. And upon this wall she could + plainly see the shadows both of her husband and of her maid; whether they + drew apart, or came near together or laughed, it was all as clear to her + as though she had veritably beheld them. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, using no precaution since he felt sure that his wife could + not see them, kissed her maid, and on the first occasion his wife suffered + this to pass without uttering a word. But when she saw that the shadows + frequently returned to this fellowship, she feared that there might be + some reality beneath it all, and burst into a loud laugh, whereat the + shadows were alarmed and separated. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman then asked his wife why she was laughing so heartily, so + that he might have a share in her merriment. + </p> + <p> + “Husband,” she replied, “I am so foolish that I laugh at my own shadow.” + </p> + <p> + Inquire as he might, she would never acknowledge any other reason, but, + nevertheless, he thenceforward refrained from kissing such shadow-faces. + </p> + <p> + “That is the story of which I was reminded when I spoke of the lady who + loved her husband’s sweetheart.” + </p> + <p> + “By my faith,” said Ennasuite, “if my maid had treated me in that fashion, + I should have risen and extinguished the candle upon her nose.” + </p> + <p> + “You are indeed terrible,” said Hircan, “but it had been well done if your + husband and the maid had both turned upon you and beaten you soundly. + There should not be so much ado for a kiss; and ‘twould have been better + if his wife had said nothing about it, and had suffered him to take his + pastime, which might perchance have cured his complaint.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said Parlamente, “she was afraid that the end of the pastime would + make him worse.” + </p> + <p> + “She was not one of those,” said Oisille, “against whom our Lord says, ‘We + have mourned to you and ye have not lamented, we have sung to you and ye + have not danced,’ (2) for when her husband was ill, she wept, and when he + was merry, she laughed. In the same fashion every virtuous woman ought to + share the good and evil, the joy and the sadness of her husband, and serve + and obey him as the Church does Jesus Christ.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 “They are like unto children sitting in the market-place, + and calling one to another, and saying, We have piped unto + you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye + have not wept.”—<i>St. Luke</i> vii. 32.—M. +</pre> + <p> + “Then, ladies,” said Parlamente, “our husbands should be to us what Christ + is to the Church.” + </p> + <p> + “So are we,” said Saffredent, “and, if it were possible, something more; + for Christ died but once for His Church, whereas we die daily for our + wives.” + </p> + <p> + “Die!” said Longarine. “Methinks that you and the others here present are + now worth more crowns than you were worth pence before you were wed.” + </p> + <p> + “And I know why,” said Saffredent; “it is because our worth is often + tried. Still our shoulders are sensible of having worn the cuirass so + long.” + </p> + <p> + “If,” said Ennasuite, “you had been obliged to wear harness for a month + and lie on the hard ground, you would greatly long to regain the bed of + your excellent wife, and wear the cuirass of which you now complain. But + it is said that everything can be endured except ease, and that none know + what rest is until they have lost it. This foolish woman, who laughed when + her husband was merry, was fond of taking her rest under any + circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure,” said Longarine, “that she loved her rest better than her + husband, since she took nothing that he did to heart.” + </p> + <p> + “She did take to heart,” said Parlamente, “those things which might have + been hurtful to his conscience and his health, but she would not dwell + upon trifles.” + </p> + <p> + “When you speak of conscience,” said Simontault “you make me laugh. ‘Tis a + thing to which I would have no woman give heed.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a good thing,” said Nomerfide, “if you had a wife like one + who, after her husband’s death, proved that she loved her money better + than her conscience.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you,” said Saffredent, “tell us that tale. I give you my vote.” + </p> + <p> + “I had not intended,” said Nomcrfide, “to relate so short a story, but, + since it is suited to the occasion, I will do so.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/042.jpg" width="100%" alt="042.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/043a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="043a.jpg the Servant Selling The Horse With The Cat " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Servant selling the Horse with the Cat] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/043.jpg" width="100%" alt="043.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LV</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A merchant’s widow, whilst carrying out her husband’s will, + interpreted its purport to the advantage of herself and her + children</i>. (1) +</pre> + <p> + In the town of Safagossa there lived a rich merchant, who, finding his + death draw nigh, and himself no longer able to retain possession of his + goods—-which he had perchance gathered together by evil means—thought + that if he made a little present to God, he might thus after his death + make part atonement for his sins, just as though God sold His pardon for + money. Accordingly, when he had settled matters in respect of his house, + he declared it to be his desire that a fine Spanish horse which he + possessed should be sold for as much as it would bring, and the money + obtained for it be distributed among the poor. And he begged his wife that + she would in no wise fail to sell the horse as soon as he was dead, and + distribute the money in the manner he had commanded. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 Whether the incidents here related be true or not, it is + probable that this was a story told to Queen Margaret at the + time of her journey to Spain in 1525. It will have been + observed (<i>ante</i>, pp. 36 and 42) that both the previous tale + and this one are introduced into the <i>Heptameron</i> in a semi- + apologetic fashion, as though the Queen had not originally + intended that her work should include such short, slight + anecdotes. However, already at this stage—the fifty-fifth + only of the hundred tales which she proposed writing—she + probably found fewer materials at her disposal than she had + anticipated, and harked back to incidents of her earlier + years, which she had at first thought too trifling to + record. Still, slight as this story may be, it is not + without point. The example set by the wife of the Saragossa + merchant has been followed in modern times in more ways than + one.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + When the burial was over and the first tears were shed, the wife, who was + no more of a fool than Spanish women are used to be, went to the servant + who with herself had heard his master declare his desire, and said to him— + </p> + <p> + “Methinks I have lost enough in the person of a husband I loved so dearly, + without afterwards losing his possessions. Yet would I not disobey his + word, but rather better his intention; for the poor man, led astray by the + greed of the priests, thought to make a great sacrifice to God in + bestowing after his death a sum of money, not a crown of which, as you + well know, he would have given in his lifetime to relieve even the sorest + need. I have therefore bethought me that we will do what he commanded at + his death, and in still better fashion than he himself would have done if + had he lived a fortnight longer. But no living person must know aught of + the matter.” + </p> + <p> + When she had received the servant’s promise to keep it secret, she said to + him— + </p> + <p> + “You will go and sell the horse, and when you are asked, ‘How much?’ you + will reply, ‘A ducat.’ I have, however, a very fine cat which I also wish + to dispose of, and you will sell it with the horse for ninety-nine ducats, + so that cat and horse together will bring in the hundred ducats for which + my husband wished to sell the horse alone.” + </p> + <p> + The servant readily fulfilled his mistress’s command. While he was walking + the horse about the market-place, and holding the cat in his arms, a + gentleman, who had seen the horse before, and was desirous of possessing + it, asked the servant what price he sought. + </p> + <p> + “A ducat,” replied the man. + </p> + <p> + “I pray you,” said the gentleman, “do not mock me.” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, sir,” said the servant, “that it will cost you only a + ducat. It is true that the cat must be bought at the same time, and for + the cat I must have nine and ninety ducats.” + </p> + <p> + Forthwith, the gentleman, thinking the bargain a reasonable one, paid him + one ducat for the horse, and the remainder as was desired of him, and took + his goods away. + </p> + <p> + The servant, on his part, went off with the money, with which his mistress + was right well pleased, and she failed not to give the ducat that the + horse had brought to the poor Mendicants, (2) as her husband had + commanded, and the remainder she kept for the needs of herself and her + children. (3) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 The allusion is not to the ordinary beggars who then, as + now, swarmed in Spain, but to the Mendicant friars.—Ed. + + 3 In Boaistuau’s and Gruget’s editions of the <i>Heptameron</i> + the dialogue following this tale is replaced by matter of + their own invention. They did not dare to reproduce Queen + Margaret’s bold opinions respecting the clergy, the monastic + orders, &c., at a time when scores of people, including even + Counsellors of Parliament, were being burnt at the stake for + heresy.—L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “What think you? Was she not far more prudent than her husband, and did + she not think less of her conscience than of the advantage of her + household?” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Parlamente, “that she did love her husband; but, seeing + that most men wander in their wits when at the point of death, and knowing + his intentions, she tried to interpret them to her children’s advantage. + And therein I hold her to have been very prudent.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” said Geburon. “Do you not hold it a great wrong not to carry out + the last wishes of departed friends?” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly I do,” said Parlamente; “that is to say if the testator be in + his right mind, and not raving.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you call it raving to give one’s goods to the Church and the poor + Mendicants?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not call it raving,” said Parlamente, “if a man distribute what God + has given into his hands among the poor; but to make alms of another + person’s goods is, in my opinion, no great wisdom. You will commonly see + the greatest usurers build the handsomest and most magnificent chapels + imaginable, thinking they may appease God with ten thousand ducats’ worth + of building for a hundred thousand ducats’ worth of robbery, just as + though God did not know how to count.” + </p> + <p> + “In sooth,” said Oisille, “I have many a time wondered how they can think + to appease God for things which He Himself rebuked when He was on earth, + such as great buildings, gildings, pictures and paint. If they really + understood the passage in which God says to us that the only offering He + requires from us is a contrite and humble heart, (4) and the other in + which St. Paul says we are the temples of God wherein He desires to dwell, + (5) they would be at pains to adorn their consciences while yet alive, and + would not wait for the hour when man can do nothing more, whether good or + evil, nor (what is worse) charge those who remain on earth to give their + alms to folk upon whom, during their lifetime, they did not deign to look. + But He who knows the heart cannot be deceived, and will judge them not + according to their works, but according to their faith and charity towards + Himself.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 4 “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and + a contrite heart, O God, thou will not despise.”—<i>Psalm</i> + li. 17.—Ed. + + 5 “For ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath + said, I will dwell in them and walk in them,” &c.—2 + <i>Corinthians</i> vi. 16.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “Why is it, then,” said Geburon, “that these Grey Friars and Mendicants + talk to us at our death of nothing but bestowing great benefits upon their + monasteries, assuring us that they will put us into Paradise whether we + will or not?” + </p> + <p> + “How now, Geburon?” said Hircan. “Have you forgotten the wickedness you + related to us of the Grey Friars, that you ask how such folk find it + possible to lie? I declare to you that I do not think that there can be + greater lies than theirs. Those, indeed, who speak on behalf of the whole + community are not to be blamed, but there are some among them who forget + their vows of poverty in order to satisfy their own greed.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks, Hircan,” said Nomerfide, “you must know some such tale, and if + it be worthy of this company, I pray you tell it us.” + </p> + <p> + “I will,” said Hircan, “although it irks me to speak of such folk. + Methinks they are of the number of those of whom Virgil says to Dante, + ‘Pass on and heed them not.’ (6) Still, to show you that they have not + laid aside their passions with their worldly garments, I will tell you of + something that once came to pass.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 6 <i>Non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa</i> (Dante’s + <i>Purgatorio</i>, iii. 51). The allusion is to the souls of + those who led useless and idle lives on earth, supporting + neither the Divinity by the observance of virtue, nor the + spirit of evil by the practice of vice. They are thus cast + out both from heaven and hell.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0017" id="linkimage-0017"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/049.jpg" width="100%" alt="049.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0018" id="linkimage-0018"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/051a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="051a.jpg the Grey Friar Introducing his Comrade to The Lady and Her Daughter " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Grey Friar introducing his Comrade to the Lady and her Daughter] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0019" id="linkimage-0019"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/051.jpg" width="100%" alt="051.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LVI</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A pious lady had recourse to a Grey Friar for his advice in + providing her daughter with a good husband, for whom she + proposed making it so profitable a match that the worthy + father, hoping to get the money she intended for her son-in- + law, married her daughter to a young comrade of his own. The + latter came every evening to sup and lie with his wife, and + in the morning returned in the garb of a scholar to his + convent. But one day while he was chanting mass, his wife + perceived him and pointed him out to her mother; who, + however, could not believe that it was he until she had + pulled off his coif while he was in bed, and from his tonsure + learned the whole truth, and the deceit used by her father + confessor</i>. +</pre> + <p> + A French lady, whilst sojourning at Padua, was informed that there was a + Grey Friar in the Bishop’s prison there, and finding that every one spoke + jestingly about him, she inquired the reason. She was told that this Grey + Friar, who was an old man, had been confessor to a very honourable and + pious widow lady, mother of only one daughter, whom she loved so dearly as + to be at all pains to amass riches for her, and to find her a good + husband. Now, seeing that her daughter was grown up, she was unceasingly + anxious to find her a husband who might live with them in peace and quiet, + a man, that is, of a good conscience, such as she deemed herself to + possess. And since she had heard some foolish preacher say that it were + better to do evil by the counsel of theologians than to do well through + belief in the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, she had recourse to her + father confessor, a man already old, a doctor of theology and one who was + held to lead a holy life by the whole town, for she felt sure that, with + his counsel and good prayers, she could not fail to find peace both for + herself and for her daughter. After she had earnestly begged him to choose + for her daughter such a husband as he knew a woman that loved God and her + honour ought to desire, he replied that first of all it was needful to + implore the grace of the Holy Spirit with prayer and fasting, and then, + God guiding his judgment, he hoped to find what she required. + </p> + <p> + So the Friar retired to think over the matter; and whereas he had heard + from the lady that she had got five hundred ducats together to give to her + daughter’s husband, and that she would take upon herself the charge of + maintaining both husband and wife with lodgment, furniture and clothes, he + bethought himself that he had a young comrade of handsome figure and + pleasing countenance, to whom he might give the fair maiden, the house, + the furniture, maintenance and food, whilst he himself kept the five + hundred ducats to gratify his burning greed. And when he spoke to his + comrade of the matter, he found that they were both of one mind upon it. + </p> + <p> + He therefore returned to the lady and said—“I verily believe that + God has sent his angel Raphael to me as he did to Tobit, to enable me to + find a perfect husband for your daughter. I have in my house the most + honourable gentleman in Italy, who has sometimes seen your daughter and is + deeply in love with her. And so to-day, whilst I was at prayer, God sent + him to me, and he told me of his desire for the marriage, whereupon, + knowing his lineage and kindred and notable descent, I promised him to + speak to you on the matter. There is, indeed, one defect in him, of which + I alone have knowledge, and it is this. Wishing to save one of his friends + whom another man was striving to slay, he drew his sword in order to + separate them; but it chanced that his friend slew the other, and thus, + although he himself had not dealt a blow, yet inasmuch as he had been + present at a murder and had drawn his sword, he became a fugitive from his + native town. By the advice of his kinsfolk he came hither in the garb of a + scholar, and he dwells here unknown until his kinsfolk shall have ended + the matter; and this he hopes will shortly be done. For this reason, then, + it would be needful that the marriage should be performed in secret, and + that you should suffer him to go in the daytime to the public lectures and + return home every evening to sup and sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” replied the worthy woman, “I look upon what you tell me as of great + advantage to myself, for I shall at least have by me what I most desire in + the world.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the Grey Friar brought his comrade, bravely attired with a + crimson satin doublet, and the lady was well pleased with him. And as soon + as he was come the betrothal took place, and, immediately after midnight, + a mass was said and they were married. Then they went to bed together + until daybreak, when the bridegroom told his wife that to escape discovery + he must needs return to the college. + </p> + <p> + After putting on his crimson satin doublet and his long robe, without + forgetting his coif of black silk, he bade his wife, who was still in bed, + good-bye, promising that he would come every evening to sup with her, but + that at dinner they must not wait for him. So he went away and left his + wife, who esteemed herself the happiest woman alive to have found so + excellent a match. And the young wedded Friar returned to the old father + and brought him the five hundred ducats, as had been agreed between them + when arranging the marriage. + </p> + <p> + In the evening he failed not to return and sup with her, who believed him + to be her husband, and so well did he make himself liked by her and by his + mother-in-law, that they would not have exchanged him for the greatest + Prince alive. + </p> + <p> + This manner of life continued for some time, but God in His kindness takes + pity upon those that are deceived without fault of their own, and so in + His mercy and goodness it came to pass that one morning the lady and her + daughter felt a great desire to go and hear mass at St. Francis, (1) and + visit their good father confessor through whose means they deemed + themselves so well provided, the one with a son-in-law and the other with + a husband. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 The church of the Grey Friars’ monastery, St Francis + being their patron.—B. J. +</pre> + <p> + It chanced that they did not find the confessor aforesaid nor any other + that they knew, and, while waiting to see whether the father would come, + they were pleased to hear high mass, which was just beginning. And whilst + the young wife was giving close heed to the divine service and its + mystery, she was stricken with astonishment on seeing the Priest turn + himself about to pronounce the <i>Dominus vobiscum</i>, for it seemed to + her that it was her husband or else his very fellow. She uttered, however, + not a word, but waited till he should turn round again, when, looking + still more carefully at him, she had no doubt that it was indeed he. Then + she twitched her mother, who was deep in contemplation, and said— + </p> + <p> + “Alas! madam, what is it that I see?” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” said her mother. + </p> + <p> + “That is my husband,” she replied, “who is singing mass, or else ‘tis one + as like him as can be.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, my daughter,” replied the mother, who had not carefully + observed him, “do not take such a thought into your head. It is impossible + that men who are so holy should have practised such deceit. You would sin + grievously against God if you believed such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless the mother did not cease looking at him, and when it came to + the <i>Ite missa est</i> she indeed perceived that no two sons of the same + mother were ever so much alike. Yet she was so simple that she would fain + have said, “O God, save me from believing what I see.” Since her daughter + was concerned in the matter, however, she would not suffer it to remain in + uncertainty, and resolved to learn the truth. + </p> + <p> + When evening was come, and the husband (who had perceived nothing of them) + was about to return, the mother said to her daughter— + </p> + <p> + “We shall now, if you are willing, find out the truth concerning your + husband. When he is in bed I will go to him, and then, while he is not + thinking, you will pluck off his coif from behind, and we shall see + whether he be tonsured like the Friar who said mass.” + </p> + <p> + As it was proposed, so was it done. As soon as the wicked husband was in + bed, the old lady came and took both his hands as though in sport—her + daughter took off his coif, and there he was with his fine tonsure. At + this both mother and daughter were as greatly astonished as might be, and + forthwith they called their servants to seize him and bind him fast till + the morning, nor did any of his excuses or fine speeches avail him aught. + </p> + <p> + When day was come, the lady sent for her confessor, making as though she + had some great secret to tell him, whereupon he came with all speed, and + then, reproaching him for the deceit that he had practised on her, she had + him seized like the other. Afterwards she sent for the officers of + justice, in whose hands she placed them both. It is to be supposed that if + the judges were honest men they did not suffer the offence to go + unpunished. (2) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 There is some little resemblance between this tale and + the 36th of Morlini’s <i>Novello, De monacho qui duxit + uxorem</i>.—M. +</pre> + <p> + “From this story, ladies, you will see that those who have taken vows of + poverty are not free from the temptation of covetousness, which is the + cause of so many ills.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, of so many blessings,” said Saffredent, “for with the five hundred + ducats that the old woman would have stored up there was made much good + cheer, while the poor maiden, who had been longing for a husband, was thus + enabled to have two, and to speak with more knowledge as to the truth of + all hierarchies.” + </p> + <p> + “You always hold the falsest opinions,” said Oisille, “that ever I knew. + You think that all women are of your own temper.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so, madam, with your good leave,” said Saffredent. “I would give much + that they were as easily satisfied as we are.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a wicked speech,” said Oisille, “and there is not one present but + knows the contrary, and that what you say is untrue. The story that has + just been told proves the ignorance of poor women and the wickedness of + those whom we regard as better than the rest of your sex; for neither + mother nor daughter would do aught according to their own fancy, but + subjected desire to good advice.” + </p> + <p> + “Some women are so difficult,” said Longarine, “that they think they ought + to have angels instead of men.” + </p> + <p> + “And for that reason,” said Simontault, “they often meet with devils, more + especially those who, instead of trusting to God’s grace, think by their + own good sense, or that of others, that they may in this world find some + happiness, though this is granted by none save God, from whom alone it can + come.” + </p> + <p> + “How now, Simontault!” said Oisille. “I did not think that you knew so + much good.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said Simontault, “‘tis a pity that I have not been proved, for I + see that through lack of knowledge you have already judged ill of me. Yet + I may well practise a Grey Friar’s trade, since a Grey Friar has meddled + with mine.” + </p> + <p> + “So you call it your trade,” said Parlamente, “to deceive women? Thus out + of your mouth are you judged.” + </p> + <p> + “Had I deceived a hundred thousand,” said Simontault, “I should yet not + have avenged the woes that I have endured for the sake of one alone.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said Parlamente, “how often you complain of women; yet, for all + that, we see you so merry and hearty that it is impossible to believe that + you have endured all the woes you speak of. But the ‘Compassionless Fair + One’ (3) replies that— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Tis as well to say as much + To draw some comfort thence.’” + + 3 <i>La belle Dame sans mercy</i>, by Alain Chartier.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “You quote a truly notable theologian,” said Simontault, “one who is not + only froward himself, but makes all the ladies so, who have read and + followed his teaching.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet his teaching,” said Parlamente, “is as profitable for youthful dames + as any that I know.” + </p> + <p> + “If it were indeed true,” said Simontault, “that the ladies were without + compassion, we might as well let our horses rest and our armour grow rusty + until the next war, and think of nothing but household affairs. And, I + pray you, tell me whether it is an excellence in a lady to have the + reputation of being without pity, or charity, or love, or mercy.” + </p> + <p> + “Without charity or love,” said Parlamente, “they should not be, but the + word ‘mercy’ sounds so ill among women that they cannot use it without + wounding their honour; for properly speaking ‘mercy’ means to grant a + favour sought, and we well know what the favour is that men desire.” + </p> + <p> + “May it please you, madam,” said Simontault, “there are some men who are + so reasonable that they crave nought but speech.” + </p> + <p> + “You remind me,” said Parlamente, “of one who was content with a glove.” + </p> + <p> + “We must know who this easy lover was,” said Hircan, “and so this time I + give my vote to you.” + </p> + <p> + “It will give me pleasure to tell the tale,” said Parlamente, “for it is + full of virtue.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0020" id="linkimage-0020"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/061.jpg" width="100%" alt="061.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0021" id="linkimage-0021"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/063a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="063a.jpg the English Lord Seizing The Lady’s Glove " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The English Lord seizing the Lady’s Glove] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0022" id="linkimage-0022"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/063.jpg" width="100%" alt="063.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LVII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>An English lord for seven years loved a lady without ever + venturing to let her know of it, until one day, when + observing her in a meadow, he lost all colour and control of + feature through a sudden throbbing of the heart that came + upon him. Then she, showing her compassion, at his request + placed her gloved hand upon his heart, whereupon he pressed + it so closely, whilst declaring to her the love he had so + long borne her, that she withdrew it, leaving in its place + her glove. And this glove he afterwards enriched with gems + and fastened upon his doublet above his heart, and showed + himself so graceful and virtuous a lover that he never + sought any more intimate favour of her</i>. +</pre> + <p> + King Louis the Eleventh (1) sent the Lord de Montmorency to England as his + ambassador, and so welcome was the latter in that country that the King + and all the Princes greatly esteemed and loved him, and even made divers + of their private affairs known to him in order to have his counsel upon + them. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 Some of the MS. say Louis XII., but we cannot find that + either the eleventh or twelfth Louis sent any Montmorency as + ambassador to England. Ripault-Desormeaux states, however, + in his history of this famous French family, that William de + Montmorency, who, after fighting in Italy under Charles + VIII. and Louis XII., became, governor of the Orléanais and + <i>chevalier d’honneur</i> to Louise of Savoy was one of the + signatories of the treaty concluded with Henry VIII. of + England, after the-battle of Pavia in 1525. We know that + Louise, as Regent of France, at that time sent John Brinon + and John Joachim de Passano as ambassadors to England, and + possibly William de Montmorency accompanied them, since + Desormeaux expressly states that he guaranteed the loyal + observance of the treaty then negotiated. William was the + father of Anne, the famous Constable of France, and died May + 24, 1531. “Geburon,” in the dialogue following the above + tale, mentions that he had well known the Montmorency + referred to, and speaks of him as of a person dead and gone. + It is therefore scarcely likely that Queen Margaret alludes + to Francis de Montmorency, Lord of La Rochepot, who was only + sent on a mission to England in 1546, and survived her by + many years.—L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + One day, at a banquet that the King gave to him, he was seated beside a + lord (2) of high lineage, who had on his doublet a little glove, such as + women wear, fastened with hooks of gold and so adorned upon the + finger-seams with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and pearls, that it was + indeed a glove of great price. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 The French word is <i>Millor (Milord)</i> and this is probably + one of the earliest instances of its employment to designate + a member of the English aristocracy. In such of the <i>Cent + Nouvelles Nouvelles</i> in which English nobles figure, the + latter are invariably called <i>seigneurs</i> or <i>chevaliers</i>, + and addressed as <i>Monseigneur</i>, Later on, when Brantôme + wrote, the term <i>un milord anglais</i> had become quite common, + and he frequently makes use of it in his various works. + English critics have often sneered at modern French writers + for employing the expression, but it will be seen from this + that they have simply followed a very old tradition.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + The Lord de Montmorency looked at it so often that the English lord + perceived he was minded to inquire why it was so choicely ordered; so, + deeming its story to be greatly to his own honour, he thus began— + </p> + <p> + “I can see that you think it strange I should have so magnificently + arrayed a simple glove, and on my part I am still more ready to tell you + the reason, for I deem you an honest gentleman and one who knows what + manner of passion love is, so that if I did well in the matter you will + praise me for it, and if not, make excuse for me, knowing that every + honourable heart must obey the behests of love. You must know, then, that + I have all my life long loved a lady whom I love still, and shall love + even when I am dead, but, as my heart was bolder to fix itself worthily + than were my lips to speak, I remained for seven years without venturing + to make her any sign, through fear that, if she perceived the truth, I + should lose the opportunities I had of often being in her company; and + this I dreaded more than death. However, one day, while I was observing + her in a meadow, a great throbbing of the heart came upon me, so that I + lost all colour and control of feature. Perceiving this, she asked me what + the matter was, and I told her that I felt an intolerable pain of the + heart. She, believing it to be caused by a different sickness than love, + showed herself pitiful towards me, which prompted me to beg her to lay her + hand upon my heart and see how it was beating. This, more from charity + than from any other affection, she did, and while I held her gloved hand + against my heart, it began to beat and strain in such wise, that she felt + that I was speaking the truth. Then I pressed her hand to my breast, + saying— + </p> + <p> + “‘Alas, madam, receive the heart which would fain break forth from my + breast to leap into the hand of her from whom I look for indulgence, life + and pity, and which now constrains me to make known to you the love that I + have so long concealed, for neither my heart nor I can now control this + potent God.’ + </p> + <p> + “When she heard those words, she deemed them very strange. She wished to + withdraw her hand, but I held it fast, and the glove remained in her cruel + hand’s place; and having neither before nor since had any more intimate + favour from her, I have fastened this glove upon my heart as the best + plaster I could give it. And I have adorned it with the richest rings I + have, though the glove itself is wealth that I would not exchange for the + kingdom of England, for I deem no happiness on earth so great as to feel + it on my breast.” + </p> + <p> + The Lord de Montmorency, who would have rather had a lady’s hand than her + glove, praised his very honourable behaviour, telling him that he was the + truest lover he had ever known, and was worthy of better treatment, since + he set so much value upon so slight a thing; though perchance, if he had + obtained aught better than the glove, the greatness of his love might have + made him die of joy. With this the English lord agreed, not suspecting + that the Lord de Montmorency was mocking him. (3) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 Alluding to this story, Brantôme writes as follows in his + <i>Dames Galantes</i>: “You have that English <i>Milord</i> in the + Hundred Tales of the Queen of Navarre, who wore his + mistress’s glove at his side, beautifully adorned. I myself + have known many gentlemen who, before wearing their silken + hose, would beg their ladies and mistresses to try them on + and wear them for some eight or ten days, rather more than + less, and who would then themselves wear them in extreme + veneration and contentment, both of mind and body.”— + Lalanne’s <i>OEuvres de Brantôme</i>, vol. ix. p. 309.—L. +</pre> + <p> + “If all men were so honourable as this one, the ladies might well trust + them, since the cost would be merely a glove.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew the Lord de Montmorency well,” said Geburon, “and I am sure that + he would not have cared to fare after the English fashion. Had he been + contented with so little, he would not have been so successful in love as + he was, for the old song says— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Of a cowardly lover + No good is e’er heard.’” + </pre> + <p> + “You may be sure,” said Saffredent, “that the poor lady withdrew her hand + with all speed, when she felt the beating of his heart, because she + thought that he was about to die, and people say that there is nothing + women loathe more than to touch dead bodies.” (4) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 4 Most of this sentence, deficient in our MS., is taken + from MS. No. 1520.—L. +</pre> + <p> + “If you had spent as much time in hospitals as in taverns,” said + Ennasuite, “you would not speak in that way, for you would have seen women + shrouding dead bodies, which men, bold as they are, often fear to touch.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” said Saffredent, “that there is none upon whom penance has + been laid but does the opposite of that wherein he formerly had delight, + like a lady I once saw in a notable house, who, to atone for her delight + in kissing one she loved, was found at four o’clock in the morning kissing + the corpse of a gentleman who had been killed the day before, and whom she + had never liked more than any other. Then every one knew that this was a + penance for past delights. But as all the good deeds done by women are + judged ill by men, I am of opinion that, dead or alive, there should be no + kissing except after the fashion that God commands.” + </p> + <p> + “For my part,” said Hircan, “I care so little about kissing women, except + my own wife, that I will assent to any law you please, yet I pity the + young folk whom you deprive of this trifling happiness, thus annulling the + command of St. Paul, who bids us kiss <i>in osculo sancto.</i>” (5) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 5 <i>Romans</i> xvi. 16; 1 <i>Corinthians</i> xvi. 20; 2 + <i>Corinthians</i> xiii. 12; I <i>Thessalonians</i> v. 26. Also 1 + <i>Peter</i> v. 14.—M. +</pre> + <p> + “If St. Paul had been such a man as you are,” said Nomerfide, “we should + indeed have required proof of the Spirit of God that spoke in him.” + </p> + <p> + “In the end,” said Geburon, “you will doubt Holy Scripture rather than + give up one of your petty affectations.” + </p> + <p> + “God forbid,” said Oisille, “that we should doubt Holy Scripture, but we + put small faith in your lies. There is no woman but knows what her belief + should be, namely, never to doubt the Word of God or believe the word of + man.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet,” said Simontauit, “I believe that there are more men deceived by + women than [women] by men. The slenderness of women’s love towards us + keeps them from believing our truths, whilst our exceeding love towards + them makes us trust so completely in their falsehoods, that we are + deceived before we suspect such a thing to be possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks,” said Parlamente, “you have been hearing some fool complain of + being duped by a wanton woman, for your words carry but little weight, and + need the support of an example. If, therefore, you know of one, I give you + my place that you may tell it to us. I do not say that we are bound to + believe you on your mere word, but it will assuredly not make our ears + tingle to hear you speak ill of us, since we know what is the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, since it is for me to speak,” said Dagoucin, “‘tis I who will tell + you the tale.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0023" id="linkimage-0023"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/070.jpg" width="100%" alt="070.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0024" id="linkimage-0024"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/071a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="071a. The Gentleman Mocked by The Ladies when Returning from The False Tryst " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Gentleman Mocked by the Ladies When Returning From The False Tryst] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0025" id="linkimage-0025"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/071.jpg" width="100%" alt="071.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LVIII.</i> + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A gentleman, through putting too much trust in the + truthfulness of a lady whom he had offended by forsaking her + for others just when she was most in love with him, was, by + a false tryst, deceived by her, and bemocked by the whole + Court</i>. +</pre> + <p> + At the Court of King Francis the First there was a lady (1) of excellent + wit, who, by her grace, virtue and pleasantness of speech, had won the + hearts of several lovers. With these she right well knew how to pass the + time, but without hurt to her honour, conversing with them in such + pleasant fashion that they knew not what to think, for those who were the + most confident were reduced to despair, whilst those that despaired the + most became hopeful. Nevertheless, while fooling most of them, she could + not help greatly loving one whom she called her cousin, a name which + furnished a pretext for closer fellowship. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 M. de Lincy surmises that Margaret is referring to + herself both here and in the following tale, which concerns + the same lady. His only reason for the supposition, however, + is that the lady’s views on certain love matters are akin to + those which the Queen herself professed.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + However, as there is nothing in this world of firm continuance, their + friendship often turned to anger and then was renewed in stronger sort + than ever, so that the whole Court could not but be aware of it. + </p> + <p> + One day the lady, both to let it be seen that she was wholly void of + passion, and to vex him, for love of whom she had endured much annoyance, + showed him a fairer countenance than ever she had done before. Thereupon + the gentleman, who lacked boldness neither in love nor in war, began hotly + to press the suit that he many a time previously had addressed to her. + </p> + <p> + She, pretending to be wholly vanquished by pity, promised to grant his + request, and told him that she would with this intent go into her room, + which was on a garret floor, where she knew there was nobody. And as soon + as he should see that she was gone he was to follow her without fail, for + he would find her ready to give proof of the good-will that she bore him. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, believing what she said, was exceedingly well pleased, and + began to amuse himself with the other ladies until he should see her gone, + and might quickly follow her. But she, who lacked naught of woman’s + craftiness, betook herself to my Lady Margaret, daughter of the King, and + to the Duchess of Montpensier, (2) to whom she said— + </p> + <p> + “I will if you are willing, show you the fairest diversion you have ever + seen.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 The former is Margaret of France, Duchess of Savoy and + Berry. Born in June 1523, she died in September 1574.— + Queen Margaret was her godmother. When only three years old, + she was promised in marriage to Louis of Savoy, eldest son + of Duke Charles III., and he dying, she espoused his younger + brother, Emmanuel Philibert, in July 1549. Graceful and + pretty as a child (see <i>ante</i>, vol. i. p. xlviii.), she + became, thanks to the instruction of the famous Michael de + l’ Hôpital, one of the most accomplished women of her time, + and Brantôme devotes an article to her in his <i>Dames + Illustres</i> (Lalanne, v. viii. pp. 328-37). See also Hilarion + de Coste’s <i>Éloges et Vies des Reines, Princesses, &c</i>., + Paris, 1647, vol. ii. p. 278. + + The Duchess of Montpensier, also referred to above, is + Jacqueline de Longwick (now Longwy), Countess of Bar-sur- + Seine, daughter of J. Ch. de Longwick, Lord of Givry, and of + Jane, <i>bâtarde</i> of Angoulême. In 1538 Jacqueline was + married to Louis II. de Bourbon, Duke of Montpensier. She + gained great influence at the French Court, both under + Francis I. and afterwards, and De Thou says of her that she + was possessed of great wit and wisdom, far superior to the + century in which she lived. She died in August 1561, and was + the mother of Francis I., Duke of Montpensier, sometimes + called the Dauphin of Auvergne, who fought at Jarnac, + Moncontour, Arques, and Ivry, against Henry of Navarre.—L., + B. J. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + They, being by no means enamoured of melancholy, begged that she would + tell them what it was. + </p> + <p> + “You know such a one,” she replied, “as worthy a gentleman as lives, and + as bold. You are aware how many ill turns he has done me, and that, just + when I loved him most, he fell in love with others, and so caused me more + grief than I have ever suffered to be seen. Well, God has now afforded me + the means of taking revenge upon him. + </p> + <p> + “I am forthwith going to my own room, which is overhead, and immediately + afterwards, if it pleases you to keep watch, you will see him follow me. + When he has passed the galleries, and is about to go up the stairs, I pray + you come both to the window and help me to cry ‘Thief!’ You will then see + his rage, which, I am sure, will not become him badly, and, even if he + does not revile me aloud, I am sure he will none the less do so in his + heart.” + </p> + <p> + This plan was not agreed to without laughter, for there was no gentleman + that tormented the ladies more than he did, whilst he was so greatly liked + and esteemed by all, that for nothing in the world would any one have run + the risk of his raillery. + </p> + <p> + It seemed, moreover, to the two Princesses that they would themselves + share in the glory which the other lady looked to win over this gentleman. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, as soon as they saw the deviser of the plot go out, they set + themselves to observe the gentleman’s demeanour. But little time went by + before he shifted his quarters, and, as soon as he had passed the door, + the ladies went out into the gallery, in order that they might not lose + sight of him. + </p> + <p> + Suspecting nothing, he wrapped his cloak about his neck, so as to hide his + face, and went down the stairway to the court, but, seeing some one whom + he did not desire to have for witness, he came back by another way, and + then went down into the court a second time. The ladies saw everything + without being perceived by him, and when he reached the stairway, by which + he thought he might safely reach his sweetheart’s chamber, they went to + the window, whence they immediately perceived the other lady, who began + crying out ‘Thief!’ at the top of her voice; whereupon the two ladies + below answered her so loudly that their voices were heard all over the + castle. + </p> + <p> + I leave you to imagine with what vexation the gentleman fled to his + lodgings. He was not so well muffled as not to be known by those who were + in the mystery, and they often twitted him with it, as did even the lady + who had done him this ill turn, saying that she had been well revenged + upon him. + </p> + <p> + It happened, however, that he was so ready with his replies and evasions + as to make them believe that he had quite suspected the plan, and had only + consented to visit the lady in order to furnish them with some diversion, + for, said he, he would not have taken so much trouble for her sake, seeing + that his love for her had long since flown. The ladies would not admit the + truth of this, so that the point is still in doubt; nevertheless, it is + probable that he believed the lady. And since he was so wary and so bold + that few men of his age and time could match and none could surpass him + (as has been proved by his very brave and knightly death), (3) you must, + it seems to me, confess that men of honour love in such wise as to be + often duped, by placing too much trust in the truthfulness of the ladies. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 This naturally brings Bonnivet to mind, though of course + the gay, rash admiral was not the only Frenchman of the time + who spent his life in making love and waging war.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “In good faith,” said Ennasuite, “I commend this lady for the trick she + played; for when a man is loved by a lady and forsakes her for another, + her vengeance cannot be too severe.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Parlamente, “if she is loved by him; but there are some who + love men without being certain that they are loved in return, and when + they find that their sweethearts love elsewhere, they call them fickle. It + therefore happens that discreet women are never deceived by such talk, for + they give no heed or belief even to those people who speak truly, lest + they should prove to be liars, seeing that the true and the false speak + but one tongue.” + </p> + <p> + “If all women were of your opinion,” said Simon-tault, “the gentlemen + might pack up their prayers at once; but, for all that you and those like + you may say, we shall never believe that women are as unbelieving as they + are fair. And in this wise we shall live as content as you would fain + render us uneasy by your maxims.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” said Longarine, “knowing as I well do who the lady is that played + that fine trick upon the gentleman, it is impossible for me not to believe + in any craftiness on her part. Since she did not spare her husband, ‘twere + fitting she should not spare her lover.” + </p> + <p> + “Her husband, say you?” said Simontault. “You know, then, more than I do, + and so, since you wish it, I give you my place that you may tell us your + opinion of the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “And since you wish it,” said Longarine, “I will do so.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0026" id="linkimage-0026"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/078.jpg" width="100%" alt="078.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0027" id="linkimage-0027"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/079a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="079a. The Lady Discovering Her Husband With The Waiting-woman " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Lady discovering her Husband with the Waiting-woman] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0028" id="linkimage-0028"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/079.jpg" width="100%" alt="079.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LIX</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>This same lady, finding that her husband took it ill that + she should have lovers with whom she amused herself without + hurt to her honour, kept close watch upon him, and so + discovered how pleasantly he addressed himself to one of her + waiting-women. This woman she gained upon, made her consent + to what her husband solicited, and then surprised him in + such error that to atone for it, he was forced to confess + that he deserved greater punishment than herself; by which + means she was afterwards able to live as her fancy listed</i>. +</pre> + <p> + The lady of your story was wedded to a rich gentleman of high and ancient + lineage, and had married him on account of the great affection that they + bore to one another. + </p> + <p> + Being a woman most pleasant of speech, she by no means concealed from her + husband that she had lovers whom she made game of for her pastime, and, at + first, her husband shared in her pleasure. But at last this manner of life + became irksome to him, for on the one part he took it ill that she should + hold so much converse with those that were no kinsfolk or friends of his + own, and on the other, he was greatly vexed by the expense to which he was + put in sustaining her magnificence and in following the Court. + </p> + <p> + He therefore withdrew to his own house as often as he was able, but so + much company came thither to see him that the expenses of his household + became scarcely any less, for, wherever his wife might be, she always + found means to pass her time in sports, dances, and all such matters as + youthful dames may use with honour. And when sometimes her husband told + her, laughing, that their expenses were too great, she would reply that + she promised never to make him a “coqu” or cuckold, but only a “coquin,” + that is, a beggar; for she was so exceedingly fond of dress, that she must + needs have the bravest and richest at the Court. (1) Her husband took her + thither as seldom as possible, but she did all in her power to go, and to + this end behaved in a most loving fashion towards her husband, who would + not willingly have refused her a much harder request. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 As Queen Margaret was by no means over fond of gorgeous + apparel and display, this passage is in contradiction with + M. de Lincy’s surmise that the lady of this and the + preceding tale may be herself. In any case the narrative + could only apply to the period of her first marriage, and + this was in no wise a love-match. Yet we are told at the + outset of the above story that the lady and gentleman had + married on account of the great affection between them. On + the other hand, these details may have been introduced the + better to conceal the identity of the persons referred to.— + Ed. +</pre> + <p> + Now one day, when she had found that all her devices could not induce him + to make this journey to the Court, she perceived that he was very pleasant + in manner with a chamber-woman (2) she had, and thereupon thought she + might turn the matter to her own advantage. Taking the girl apart, she + questioned her cleverly, using both wiles and threats, in such wise that + the girl confessed that, ever since she had been in the house, not a day + had passed on which her master had not sought her love; but (she added) + she would rather die than do aught against God and her honour, more + especially after the honour which the lady had done her in taking her into + her service, for this would make such wickedness twice as great. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 The French expression here is <i>femme de chambre à + chaperon</i>. The <i>chaperon</i> in this instance was a cap with a + band of velvet worn across it as a sign of gentle and even + noble birth. The attendant referred to above would therefore + probably be a young woman of good descent, constrained by + circumstances to enter domestic service.—B. J. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + On hearing of her husband’s unfaithfulness, the lady immediately felt both + grief and joy. Her grief was that her husband, despite all his show of + loving her, should be secretly striving to put her to so much shame in her + own household, and this when she believed herself far more beautiful and + graceful than the woman whom he sought in her stead. But she rejoiced to + think that she might surprise her husband in such manifest error that he + would no longer be able to reproach her with her lovers, nor with her + desire to dwell at Court; and, to bring this about, she begged the girl + gradually to grant her husband what he sought upon certain conditions that + she made known to her. + </p> + <p> + The girl was minded to make some difficulty, but when her mistress + warranted the safety both of her life and of her honour, she consented to + do whatever might be her pleasure. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, on continuing his pursuit of the girl, found her + countenance quite changed towards him, and therefore urged his suit more + eagerly than had been his wont; but she, knowing by heart the part she had + to play, made objection of her poverty, and said that, if she complied + with his desire, she would be turned away by her mistress, in whose + service she looked to gain a good husband. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman forthwith replied that she need give no thought to any such + matters, since he would bestow her in marriage more profitably than her + mistress would be able to do, and further, would contrive the matter so + secretly that none would know of it. + </p> + <p> + Upon this they came to an agreement, and, on considering what place would + be most suited for such a fine business, the girl said that she knew of + none better or more remote from suspicion than a cottage in the park, + where there was a chamber and a bed suitable for the occasion. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, who would not have thought any place unsuitable, was + content with the one she named, and was very impatient for the appointed + day and hour to come. + </p> + <p> + The girl kept her word to her mistress, and told her in full the whole + story of the plan, and how it was to be put into execution on the morrow + after dinner. She would not fail, said she, to give a sign when the time + came to go to the cottage, and she begged her mistress to be watchful, and + in no wise fail to be present at the appointed hour, in order to save her + from the danger into which her obedience was leading her. + </p> + <p> + This her mistress swore, begging her to be without fear, and promising + that she would never forsake her, but would protect her from her husband’s + wrath. + </p> + <p> + When the morrow was come and dinner was over, the gentleman was more + pleasant with his wife than ever, and although this was not very agreeable + to her, she dissembled so well that he did not perceive the truth. + </p> + <p> + After dinner she asked him how he was minded to pass away the time, and he + answered that he knew of nothing better than to play at “cent.” (3) + Forthwith everything was made ready for the game, but the lady pretended + that she did not care to take part in it, and would find diversion enough + in looking at the players. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 This is probably a reference to the card game now called + piquet, usually played for a hundred points. It is one of + the oldest of its kind. See Rabelais’ <i>Gargantua</i>, book i. + chap, xxii.—L. +</pre> + <p> + Just before he sat down to play, the gentleman failed not to ask the girl + to remember her promise to him, and while he was playing she passed + through the room, making a sign to her mistress which signified that she + was about to set out on the pilgrimage she had to make. The sign was + clearly seen by the lady, but her husband perceived nothing of it. + </p> + <p> + An hour later, however, one of his servants made him a sign from a + distance, whereupon he told his wife that his head ached somewhat, and + that he must needs rest and take the air. She, knowing the nature of his + sickness as well as he did himself, asked him whether she should play in + his stead, and he consented, saying that he would very soon return. + However, she assured him that she could take his place for a couple of + hours without weariness. + </p> + <p> + So the gentleman withdrew to his room, and thence by an alley into his + park. + </p> + <p> + The lady, who knew another and shorter way, waited for a little while, and + then, suddenly feigning to be seized with colic, gave her hand at play to + another. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she was out of the room, she put off her high-heeled shoes and + ran as quickly as she could to the place, where she had no desire that the + bargain should be struck without her. And so speedily did she arrive, + that, when she entered the room by another door, her husband was but just + come in. Then, hiding herself behind the door, she listened to the fair + and honest discourse that he held to her maid. But when she saw that he + was coming near to the criminal point, she seized him from behind, saying— + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I am too near that you should take another.” + </p> + <p> + It is needless to ask whether the gentleman was in extreme wrath, both at + being balked of the delight he had looked to obtain, and at having his + wife, whose affection he now greatly feared to lose for ever, know more of + him than he desired. He thought, however, that the plot had been contrived + by the girl, and (without speaking to his wife) he ran after her with such + fury that, had not his wife rescued her from his hands, he would have + killed her. He declared that she was the wickedest jade he had ever known, + and that, if his wife had waited to see the end, she would have found that + he was only mocking her, for, instead of doing what she expected, he would + have chastised her with rods. + </p> + <p> + But his wife, knowing what words of the sort were worth, set no value upon + them, and addressed such reproaches to him that he was in great fear lest + she should leave him. He promised her all that she asked, and, after her + sage reproaches, confessed that it was wrong of him to complain that she + had lovers; since a fair and honourable woman is none the less virtuous + for being loved, provided that she do or say nothing contrary to her + honour; whereas a man deserves heavy punishment when he is at pains to + pursue a woman that loves him not, to the wronging of his wife and his own + conscience. He would therefore, said he, never more prevent his wife from + going to Court, nor take it ill that she should have lovers, for he knew + that she spoke with them more in jest than in affection. + </p> + <p> + This talk was not displeasing to the lady, for it seemed to her that she + had gained an important point. Nevertheless she spoke quite to the + contrary, pretending that she had no delight in going to Court, since she + no longer possessed his love, without which all assemblies were + displeasing to her; and saying that a woman who was truly loved by her + husband, and who loved him in return, as she did, carried with her a + safe-conduct that permitted her to speak with one and all, and to be + derided by none. + </p> + <p> + The poor gentleman was at so much pains to assure her of the love he bore + her, that at last they left the place good friends. That they might not + again fall into such trouble, he begged her to turn away the girl through + whom he had undergone so much distress. This she did, but did it by + bestowing her well and honourably in marriage, and at her husband’s + expense. + </p> + <p> + And, to make the lady altogether forget his folly, the gentleman soon took + her to Court, in such style and so magnificently arrayed that she had good + reason to be content. + </p> + <p> + “This, ladies, was what made me say I did not find the trick she played + upon one of her lovers a strange one, knowing, as I did, the trick she had + played upon her husband.” + </p> + <p> + “You have described to us a very cunning wife and a very stupid husband,” + said Hircan. “Having advanced so far, he ought not to have come to a + standstill and stopped on so fair a road.” + </p> + <p> + “And what should he have done?” said Longarine. + </p> + <p> + “What he had taken in hand to do,” said Hircan, “for his wife was no less + wrathful with him for his intention to do evil than she would have been + had he carried the evil into execution. Perchance, indeed, she would have + respected him more if she had seen that he was a bolder gallant.” + </p> + <p> + “That is all very well,” said Ennasuite, “but where will you find a man to + face two women at once? His wife would have defended her rights and the + girl her virginity.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” said Hircan, “but a strong bold man does not fear to assail two + that are weak, nor will he ever fail to vanquish them.” + </p> + <p> + “I readily understand,” said Ennasuite, “that if he had drawn his sword he + might have killed them both, but otherwise I cannot see that he had any + means of escape. I pray you, therefore, tell us what you would have done?” + </p> + <p> + “I should have taken my wife in my arms,” said Hircan, “and have carried + her out. Then I should have had my own way with her maid by love or by + force.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis enough, Hircan,” said Parlamente, “that you know how to do evil.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure, Parlamente,” he replied, “that I do not scandalise the + innocence in whose presence I speak, and by what I have said I do not mean + that I support a wicked deed. But I wonder at the attempt, which was in + itself worthless, and at the attempter, who, for fear rather than for love + of his wife, failed to complete it. I praise a man who loves his wife as + God ordains; but when he does not love her, I think little of him for + fearing her.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” replied Parlamente, “if love did not render you a good husband, I + should make small account of what you might do through fear.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite safe, Parlamente,” said Hircan, “for the love I bear you + makes me more obedient than could the fear of either death or hell.” + </p> + <p> + “You may say what you please,” said Parlamente, “but I have reason to be + content with what I have seen and known of you. As for what I have not + seen, I have never wished to make guess or still less inquiry.” + </p> + <p> + “I think it great folly,” said Nomerfide, “for women to inquire so + curiously concerning their husbands, or husbands concerning their wives. + Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, without giving so much heed + to the morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet it is sometimes needful,” said Oisille, “to inquire into matters that + may touch the honour of a house in order to set them right, though not to + pass evil judgment upon persons, seeing that there is none who does not + fail.” + </p> + <p> + “Many,” said Geburon, “have at divers times fallen into trouble for lack + of well and carefully inquiring into the errors of their wives.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you,” said Longarine, “if you know any such instance, do not keep + it from us.” + </p> + <p> + “I do indeed know one,” said Geburon, “and since you so desire, I will + relate it.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0029" id="linkimage-0029"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/090.jpg" width="100%" alt="090.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0030" id="linkimage-0030"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/091a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="091a. The Chanter of Blois Delivering his Mistress from The Grave " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Chanter of Blois delivering his Mistress from the Grave] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0031" id="linkimage-0031"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/091.jpg" width="100%" alt="091.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LX</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A man of Paris, through not making good inquiry concerning + his wife, whom he believed dead, though she was indeed + making good cheer with a chanter to the King, married a + second wife, whom, after having several children by her and + consorting with her for fourteen or fifteen years, he was + constrained to leave, in order to take his first wife back + again</i>. +</pre> + <p> + In the city of Paris there was a man who was so good-natured that he would + have scrupled to believe a man abed with his wife, even if he had seen him + with his own eyes. This poor man married a woman whose conduct was as bad + as could be; nevertheless he perceived nothing of it, and treated her as + though she were the most virtuous woman alive. One day, however, when King + Louis XII. came to Paris, his wife surrendered herself to one of the + choir-men of the aforesaid sovereign, and when she found that the King was + leaving Paris and that she would no longer be able to see the singer, she + resolved to follow him and forsake her husband. To this the chanter + agreed, and brought her to a house that he had near Blois, (1) where for a + long while they lived together. The poor husband, finding that he had lost + his wife, sought her everywhere; and at last it was told him that she was + gone away with the chanter. + </p> + <p> + Wishing to recover the lost ewe which he had so badly watched, he wrote + many letters to her begging her to return to him, and saying that he would + take her back if she were willing to be a virtuous woman. But she took + such great delight in listening to the songs of the chanter, that she had + forgotten her husband’s voice, and gave no heed to all his excellent + words, but mocked at them. + </p> + <p> + Therefore the husband, in great wrath, gave her to know that, since she + would return to him in no other way, he would demand her in legal fashion + of the Church. (2) The wife, dreading that if the law should take the + matter in hand she and her chanter would fare badly, devised a stratagem + worthy of such a woman as herself. Feigning sickness, she sent for some + honourable women of the town to come and see her, and this they willingly + did, hoping that her illness might be a means of withdrawing her from her + evil life, with which purpose they addressed the sagest admonitions to + her. Thereupon she, whilst pretending to be grievously sick, made a show + of weeping and acknowledging her sinfulness in such sort that she gained + the pity of the whole company, who quite believed that she was speaking + from the bottom of her heart. And, finding her thus subdued and sorry, + they began to comfort her, telling her that God was in no wise so terrible + as many preachers represented Him, and that He would never refuse to show + her mercy. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 Louis XII.‘s favourite place of residence.—Ed. + + 2 Implying the Officialité or episcopal court.—B. J. +</pre> + <p> + After this excellent discourse, they sent for a virtuous man to come and + confess her, and on the morrow the priest of the parish came to administer + the Holy Sacrament. This she received so piously, that all the virtuous + women of the town who were present wept to see her devoutness, praising + God, who of His goodness had in this wise shown compassion upon this poor + creature. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards she pretended that she could no longer take food, whereupon the + extreme unction was brought by the priest and received by her with many + pious signs; for (as they thought) she was scarcely able to speak. She + continued thus for a great while, and it seemed as though she were + gradually losing her sight, hearing and other senses, whereat there came + from all a cry of “Jesus!” As night was at hand and the ladies were far + from home, they all withdrew; and just as they were leaving the house it + was told them that she was dead, whereupon, saying their <i>De profundis</i> + for her, they returned to their houses. + </p> + <p> + The priest asked the chanter where he would have her buried, and the other + replied that she had desired to be buried in the cemetery, and that it + would be well to bring her there at night. So the poor unfortunate was + shrouded by a serving-woman, who was careful not to hurt her, and then by + brave torchlight she was carried to the grave that the chanter had caused + to be made. + </p> + <p> + When the body passed in front of the houses of those who had been present + when she received the extreme unction, they all came forth and followed + her to the tomb; and there she was soon left by women and priests alike. + The chanter, however, did not go away, but, as soon as he saw the company + some distance off, he and the serving-woman opened the grave wherein was + his sweetheart more alive than ever, and he sent her secretly to his + house, where for a long time he kept her concealed. + </p> + <p> + The husband, who was in pursuit of her, came as far as Blois to demand + justice, when he found that she was dead and buried according to the + testimony of all the ladies of Blois. They told him, too, what a good end + she had made, and the worthy man was rejoiced to think that his wife’s + soul was in Paradise, and himself rid of her wicked body. + </p> + <p> + In this wise well content, he betook himself back to Paris, where he + married a beautiful and virtuous young woman, and a good housewife, by + whom he had several children, and with whom he lived for fourteen or + fifteen years. But at last rumour, which can keep nothing hid, advised him + that his wife was not dead, but was still dwelling with the wicked + chanter. The poor man concealed the matter as well as he was able, + pretending to know nothing about it, and hoping that it was a lie. But his + wife, who was a discreet woman, was told of it, and such was her anguish + at the tidings that she was like to die of grief. Had it been possible + without offence to her conscience, she would gladly have concealed her + misfortune, but it was not possible. The Church immediately took the + affair in hand, and first of all separated them from each other until the + truth of the matter should be known. + </p> + <p> + Then was this poor man obliged to leave the good and go after the bad, and + in this wise he came to Blois shortly after Francis the First had become + king. Here he found Queen Claude and my Lady the Regent, (3) to whom he + made his complaint, asking for her whom he would gladly not have found, + but whom, to the great compassion of the whole company, he was now obliged + to see. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 This shows that the incidents of the tale occurred in the + summer or autumn of 1515, when Francis I. was absent in + Italy conducting the campaign which resulted in the victory + of Marignano and the surrender of Milan.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + When his wife was brought before him, she strove for a long while to + maintain that he was not her husband, which he would willingly have + believed had he been able. More disappointed than abashed, she told him + that she would rather die than go back with him, and at this he was well + pleased; but the ladies in whose presence she spoke in this unseemly + fashion condemned her to return, and so rated the chanter with many a + threat, that he was obliged to tell his ugly sweetheart to go back with + her husband, and to declare that he himself would never see her more. + </p> + <p> + Rejected thus on all sides, the poor unfortunate withdrew to a home in + which she was fated to meet with better treatment from her husband than + she had deserved. + </p> + <p> + “You see, ladies, why I say that if the poor husband had been more + watchful over his wife, he would not thus have lost her. A thing that is + well guarded is difficult to lose, but heedlessness makes the thief.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis a strange thing,” said Hircan, “how strong love is just where it + seems most unreasonable.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard,” said Simontault, “that it were easier to break two + marriages than to sunder the love of a priest and his serving-maid.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe it,” said Ennasuite; “for those who bind others together in + marriage, are so well able to tie the knot that nought but death can + destroy it. Theologians, moreover, hold that spiritual language is of more + effect than any other, and in consequence spiritual love surpasses any + other kind.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a thing that I cannot forgive in ladies,” said Dagoucin, “when they + forsake an honourable husband or a lover for a priest, however handsome + and worthy the latter may be.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, Dagoucin,” said Hircan, “intermeddle not with our Holy Mother + Church. Be assured that ‘tis a great delight for timorous and + secret-loving women to sin with those who can absolve them; for there are + some who are more ashamed to confess a thing than to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak,” said Oisille, “of those who have no knowledge of God, and who + think not that secret matters are one day revealed in presence of the + Company of Heaven. But I think that it is not for confession’s sake that + they go after confessors; for the Enemy has so blinded them that they are + more concerned to attach themselves where they think there is most + concealment and security, than anxious to obtain absolution for the + wickedness of which they do not repent.” + </p> + <p> + “Repent, say you?” said Saffredent. “Nay, they deem themselves holier than + other women. I am sure that there are some who deem it honourable in + themselves that they are constant in such love.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak in such a manner,” said Oisille to Saffredent, “that I think + you know of some one of that kind. I pray you, therefore, begin the Day + tomorrow by telling us what you know. But now the last bell for vespers is + already ringing; for our friends the monks went off as soon as they had + heard the tenth tale, and left us to finish our discussions among + ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + At these words they all rose and came to the church, where they found the + monks awaiting them. Then, after hearing vespers, they all supped + together, talking the while of many excellent stories. After supper they + went, according to their wont, to disport themselves somewhat in the + meadow, and then retired to rest, in order that their memories might be + the sounder on the morrow. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0032" id="linkimage-0032"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/099.jpg" width="100%" alt="099.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SEVENTH DAY. + </h2> + <p> + <i>On the Seventh Day relation is made<br /> of such as have done<br /> + quite contrary to<br /> their duty<br /> or desire</i>. <a + name="link2H_PROL7" id="link2H_PROL7"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PROLOGUE. + </h2> + <p> + In the morning the Lady Oisille failed not to administer to them wholesome + nutriment, which she did by reading of the acts and virtuous deeds of the + glorious knights and apostles of Jesus Christ, as related by St. Luke, + telling them withal that these relations should suffice to make them long + for the return of such a time, and to make them weep for the uncomeliness + of this age as compared with that. When she had sufficiently read and + expounded to them the beginning of this excellent book, she begged them to + go to the church in such union as that in which the Apostles were wont to + pray, seeking of God the mercy which is never refused to those who ask for + it in faith. Her counsel was approved by all, and they came to the church + just as the Mass of the Holy Spirit was beginning; this seemed to them + very apt to the occasion, and they hearkened to the service in great + devotion. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards they went to dinner, where they called to mind the apostolic + life, and took such great delight in it that it was as though their + undertaking had been forgotten. But Nomerfide, who was the youngest, + noticed this, and said, “The Lady Oisille has made us so devout that we + are letting slip the hour at which we are wont to withdraw, in order to + make ready for the relating of our tales.” + </p> + <p> + Her words caused the whole company to rise, and, after they had been for a + while in their rooms, they failed not to repair to the meadow as on the + day before. When they were seated at their ease, the Lady Oisille said to + Saffredent, “Although I am certain that you will say nothing to the + advantage of women, yet I must call upon you to tell the tale that you had + in readiness yester evening.” + </p> + <p> + “I protest, madam,” replied Saffredent, “against winning the repute of a + slanderer through telling the truth, or losing the favour of virtuous + ladies through relating the deeds of the wanton. I have felt what it is to + lack their presence, and had I equally lacked their fair favours, I had + not been alive to-day.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he turned his eyes away from her who was the cause of his + happiness and of his woe; and, looking upon Ennasuite, caused her to blush + as deeply as though his words had been directed to her. Yet was he none + the less understood by her whom he desired should understand him. The Lady + Oisille then assured him that he might freely speak the truth at the cost + of any person concerned; whereupon he thus began:— + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0033" id="linkimage-0033"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/105a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="105a. The Lady Returning to Her Lover, The Canon of Autun " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Lady returning to her Lover, the Canon of Autun] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0034" id="linkimage-0034"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/105.jpg" width="100%" alt="105.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXI</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A husband is reconciled with his wife after she had lived + during fourteen or fifteen years with a Canon of Autun</i>. +</pre> + <p> + Near the town of Autun there lived a very beautiful woman, who was tall, + fair, and as handsome of feature as any I have ever seen. She was married + to an honest man who seemed somewhat younger than herself, and who loved + and treated her well enough to give her reason for content. + </p> + <p> + A little while after they were married, he took her to the town of Autun, + where he had business; and while he was engaged with the law, his wife + would go to the church to pray God for him. + </p> + <p> + She repaired so often to this holy place that a very rich Canon fell in + love with her, and wooed her so urgently that the unhappy creature gave + herself up to him. Her husband had no suspicion of this, however, for he + gave more thought to the guarding of his property than of his wife. + </p> + <p> + When the time for departure was come, and they must needs return to their + home, which was full seven leagues from the town, great was the woman’s + sorrow. But the Canon promised that he would often go and see her, and + this he did, pretending to be making some journey which led him past the + house. The gentleman, however, was not so foolish as not to perceive the + truth, and he so skilfully contrived matters, that when the Canon came + thither he no longer met the wife, who was too well hidden by her husband + to allow of his having any speech with her. The wife, knowing her + husband’s jealousy, gave no sign that this was displeasing to her; + nevertheless, she resolved to set things to rights, for she felt herself + as it were in hell, deprived as she was of the sight of her God. + </p> + <p> + One day, when her husband was abroad, she found a means to occupy her + servants, both men and women, after such a fashion that she was left alone + in the house. Immediately, she took what was needful, and, with no company + save that of the wanton love she carried with her, she repaired on foot to + Autun. Here she arrived none too late to be recognised by her Canon, who + kept her shut up in hiding for more than a year, and this in spite of the + monitions and excommunications that were procured against him by her + husband. + </p> + <p> + The latter, finding that he had no other remedy, at last complained to the + Bishop, who had an Archdeacon, as worthy a man as any at that time in + France. This Archdeacon himself searched with great diligence through all + the Canon’s houses, until he discovered the one in which the woman was + being kept in concealment, whereupon he cast her into prison, and laid + heavy penance upon the Canon. + </p> + <p> + The husband, knowing that his wife had been recovered by the counsels of + the Archdeacon and divers other excellent persons, was content to take her + back on her swearing to him that she would live for the future as beseemed + a virtuous woman. + </p> + <p> + This the worthy man in his deep love for her readily believed, and, + bringing her back to his house, he treated her as honourably as before, + except that he gave her two old serving-women who never left her, one or + other of them being at all times with her. + </p> + <p> + But, however kindly her husband might use her, the wicked love she bore + towards the Canon caused her to regard all rest as torment. And although + she was a very beautiful woman and her husband a man of excellent + constitution, vigorous and strong, she never had any children by him, her + heart being always seven leagues away from her body; this, however, she + concealed so well that it seemed to her husband that, like himself, she + had wholly forgotten the past. + </p> + <p> + But in her great wickedness she was not so minded; for, just when she saw + her husband most in love with her and having least suspicion, she + pretended to fall ill, and continued in this pretence until her husband + was in wondrous distress, and anxious to spare nought that might relieve + her. + </p> + <p> + However, she played her part so exceedingly well that he, and all in the + house, thought that she was sick unto death, and was growing by degrees + weaker and weaker. Finding that her husband was no less grieved than he + should have been glad, she begged of him that he would authorise her to + make her will, and this with tears he did. + </p> + <p> + Having power of bequest, although she had no children, she gave to her + husband what she could, craving at the same time his forgiveness for her + wrong-doing towards him. Then she sent for the priest, confessed herself, + and received the Holy Sacrament of the Altar with such devoutness, that + all wept to see so glorious an end. + </p> + <p> + When the evening was come, she begged her husband to send for the extreme + unction, saying that, as she was growing very weak, she was in fear lest + she might not live to receive it. Her husband in all haste caused it to be + brought by the priest, and she, by receiving it with very great humility, + prompted every one to praise her. + </p> + <p> + After she had got through her brave mysteries, she told her husband that, + having through God’s grace received all that the Church commands, she felt + great peace of conscience, and would fain take some rest; and she begged + him to do the like, seeing that he had great need of it after all his + weeping and watching with her. + </p> + <p> + When her husband was gone, and all his servants with him, the poor old + women, who had so long watched her in health and now had no fear of losing + her except by death, went contentedly and comfortably to bed. As soon as + she heard them asleep and loudly snoring, she rose in nothing but her + shift, and went out of the room, listening to hear if any one was yet + astir in the house. Taking every precaution, she then (as she well knew + how) let herself out through a little garden-gate that was not shut, and, + barefooted and in her shift, journeyed all night long towards Autun and + the saint, who had preserved her from death. + </p> + <p> + It happened, however, that as the distance was great, she could not + accomplish the whole of it before daylight overtook her. Looking then all + along the road, she perceived two horsemen who were galloping at full + speed, and thinking that it might be her husband in search of her, she hid + herself entirely in a marsh, with her head among the reeds. As her husband + (for he it was) passed close beside her, he spoke to a servant who was + with him, in tones of deep despair, saying— + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the wicked woman! Who could have thought that so foul and abominable + a deed could be hidden under cloak of the holy sacraments of the Church.” + </p> + <p> + “If Judas,” replied the servant, “feared not to betray his Master when he + was receiving the like, a woman’s treachery is but small matter for + wonder.” + </p> + <p> + At this point the husband passed on, and his wife remained among the + rushes, in greater gladness at having deceived and escaped him than she + had ever felt at home in a good bed but in subjection. + </p> + <p> + The poor husband sought her through all the town of Autun, but learning + for certain that she had not entered it, he retraced his steps, + complaining unceasingly of her and of his loss, and threatening her with + nothing short of death if he should find her. Of this she had as little + fear in her mind as she had of cold in her body, although the place and + season might well have caused her to repent of her evil journey. And any + one who did not know how the fire of hell inflames those that are filled + with it, must needs wonder how it was that this unhappy woman could so + leave a warm bed and continue for a whole day in the piercing cold. + </p> + <p> + Yet she neither lost courage nor gave up the journey, but, as soon as + night was come, went forward once more. Just as the gate at Autun was + being closed, this pilgrim arrived thither and repaired straight to the + shrine of her saint, who was in great wonder at her coming, and could + scarcely believe that it was indeed she. But when he had carefully looked + at her and examined her at all points, he found that, unlike a spirit, she + was really possessed of bone and flesh, and so became convinced that she + was no ghost. + </p> + <p> + And thenceforward they agreed so well together that she dwelt with the + Canon for fourteen or fifteen years. + </p> + <p> + Although for a time she lived in concealment, in the end she lost all + fear, and (what is worse) became so exceedingly proud of her lover that at + church she would set herself before most of the honourable women of the + town, wives of officials and others. Moreover, she had children by the + Canon, and among others a daughter who was married to a rich merchant, and + who had so magnificent a wedding that all the women of the town murmured + exceedingly, yet were powerless to set the affair to rights. + </p> + <p> + Now it happened that at this time Queen Claude, wife of King Francis, + passed through the town of Autun, having with her my Lady the Regent, + mother of the King aforesaid, and the Duchess of Alençon, her daughter. + (1) One of the Queen’s waiting-women, named Perrette, came to the Duchess + and said— + </p> + <p> + “Madam, I pray you listen to me, and you will do a better deed than if you + went to hear the whole day’s service at the church.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 This would have occurred in the late autumn of 1515, when + the Court journeyed southward to meet Francis I. on his + return from the Marignano campaign.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + The Duchess gave ready heed, knowing that nought but good counsel could + come from her. Then Perrette forthwith told her how she had taken a young + girl to help her in washing the Queen’s linen, and how, on asking the news + of the town, she had heard from her the vexation which all the honourable + women endured at seeing the Canon’s mistress go before them, together with + some of the history of the wicked woman’s life. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess went immediately to the Queen and my Lady the Regent, and told + them the story; and they, without any form of law, sent for the unhappy + woman. The latter sought no concealment, for her shame was turned to pride + at being mistress in the household of so rich a man; and hence, with no + feeling of confusion or disgrace, she presented herself before the ladies + aforesaid, who were so abashed by her hardihood that at first they knew + not what to say. After a time, however, my Lady the Regent rebuked her in + a fashion which would have made a right-thinking woman weep, though this + unhappy creature did not do so, but with great boldness said— + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, ladies, let my honour go unscathed, for, God be praised, I + have lived so well and virtuously with the Canon that no person alive can + say aught against me. And let it not be thought that I am living in + opposition to the will of God, since, for three years past, the Canon has + not come near me, and we live together as chastely and as lovingly as two + little angels, without any speech or wish between us to the contrary. And + any one separating us will commit a great sin, for the worthy man, who is + nigh eighty years old, will not live long without me, who am forty-five.” + </p> + <p> + You may imagine how the ladies then comported themselves, and what + remonstrance they all made with her; but, in spite of the words that were + spoken, and her own age, and the honourable indignation of those present, + her obstinacy was not softened. That she might be the more effectually + humbled, they sent for the good Archdeacon of Autun, and he condemned her + to lie in prison for a year, faring on bread and water. The ladies further + sent for her husband, and he, after hearing their excellent exhortations, + was content to take her back again after she should have performed her + penance. + </p> + <p> + But when she found that she was a prisoner, and that the Canon was + resolved to have her back no more, she thanked the ladies for having taken + a devil off her shoulders, and showed such deep and perfect contrition + that her husband, instead of waiting until the year should have expired, + came and asked her of the Archdeacon before a fortnight was over; and + since then they have lived together in all peace and affection. + </p> + <p> + “You see, ladies, how the chains of St. Peter are by wicked ministers + converted into those of Satan, which it is so hard to break that even the + sacraments, which cast out devils from the body, are here the means of + making them abide longer in the conscience; for the best things, when + abused, bring about most evil.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” said Oisille, “this woman was a very wicked one, but at the same + time she was well punished by her appearance before such judges as the + ladies you have named. The mere glance of the Lady Regent had such power + that never was there a woman, however virtuous, that did not dread being + found unworthy in her sight. Those who were looked upon kindly by her + deemed that they had earned a high honour, knowing as they did that none + but virtuous women were favoured by her.” (2) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 We are asked to believe that Oisille is none other than + the Lady Regent (Louise of Savoy), but is it likely she + would thus speak of herself? We can scarcely conceive Queen + Margaret perpetrating such a flagrant anachronism.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “It were indeed a fine thing,” said Hircan, “that there should be greater + dread of a woman’s eyes than of the Holy Sacrament, which, if it be not + received in faith and charity, brings with it eternal damnation.” + </p> + <p> + “Those,” said Parlamente, “who are not inspired by God are, I promise you, + in greater dread of the temporal than of the spiritual powers. And I + believe that the poor creature was brought to mend her ways rather by her + imprisonment and the thought of seeing her Canon no more, than by any + remonstrance that might have been made to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said Simontault, “you have forgotten the chief cause of her return + to her husband, which was that the Canon was eighty years old, whilst her + husband was younger than herself; so the worthy lady had the best of all + her bargains. Had the Canon been young, she would not have been willing to + forsake him, and the admonitions of the ladies would have been as + ineffectual as the sacraments.” + </p> + <p> + “Further,” said Nomerfide, “I think she did well not to confess her sin so + readily; such an offence ought to be humbly acknowledged to God, but + stoutly denied before men. Even though it be true, still, by deception and + swearing, doubt may be cast upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so,” said Longarine. “A sin can scarcely be so secret that it will + not become revealed, unless God in His pity conceal it, as in the case of + those who for love of Himself have truly repented.” + </p> + <p> + “And what,” said Hircan, “will you say of those women who have no sooner + done a deed of folly than they tell some one about it?” + </p> + <p> + “I think that a strange thing,” answered Longarine, “and a sign that sin + is not displeasing to them. If, as I said, a sin is not covered by the + mercy of God, it cannot be denied before men; there are many who, + delighting in such talk, glory to make their vices known, whilst others + who contradict themselves in this way become their own accusers.” + </p> + <p> + “If you know any such instance,” said Saffredent, “I give you my place and + beg you to tell it us.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen then,” said Longarine. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0035" id="linkimage-0035"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/117.jpg" width="100%" alt="117.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0036" id="linkimage-0036"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/119a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="119a. The Gentleman’s Spur Catching in The Sheet " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Gentleman’s Spur catching in the Sheet] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0037" id="linkimage-0037"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/119.jpg" width="100%" alt="119.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A lady’s tongue tripped so awkwardly whilst she was telling + a story, as if of another, to a dame of high degree, that + her honour thenceforward bore a stain which she could never + remove</i>. +</pre> + <p> + In the time of King Francis the First there lived a lady of the blood + royal, who was endowed with honour, virtue and beauty, and well knew how + to tell a story with grace and to laugh at such as might be told to her. + (1) This lady being at one of her houses, all her subjects and neighbours + came to see her; for she was as much liked as it were possible for woman + to be. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 M. de Lincy thinks that this lady may be Louise of Savoy, + who was very fond of listening to stories of an equivocal + character. This, it may be pointed out, is one of the + reasons why the commentators of the <i>Heptameron</i> suppose her + to be Oisille, though the latter in the conversational + passages following the tales displays considerable prudery + and devoutness. That Louise was a woman of extremely amorous + tendency is well known; we need, indeed, no better proof of + it than her unseemly passion for the Constable de Bourbon + when she was five-and-forty years of age. If she be the lady + of royal blood spoken of above, the incidents of the tale + may have occurred in the Bourbonnais, a considerable portion + of which passed into her hands after the flight of the + Constable from France. It will be noted that allusion is + made to the lady’s subjects, showing that she exercised a + feudal sway. As one of the commentators of the <i>Heptameron</i> + has pointed out, Queen Margaret always saw her mother—that + “donna terribilissima!” as De Lussy called her—in such an + ideal light that M. de Lincy’s surmise may well be a correct + one despite the attributes of honour, virtue and beauty + bestowed on the lady whom she speaks of.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + Among others there came a lady who hearkened whilst the rest told every + story they could think of in order to amuse the Princess. This lady then + resolved that she would not be behind the others, and accordingly said— + </p> + <p> + “Madam, I will tell you a fine story, but you must promise me not to speak + of it.” + </p> + <p> + Then she forthwith continued— + </p> + <p> + “The story, madam, is on my conscience a perfectly true one, and concerns + a married lady who lived in all honour with her husband, although he was + old and she was young. A gentleman who was her neighbour, seeing her + married to this old man, fell in love with her, and importuned her for + several years; but never received of her any reply save such as a virtuous + woman should make. One day the gentleman bethought him that if he could + take her at a disadvantage she might perchance be less harsh towards him, + and, after he had for a long while weighed the danger that he might run, + his love for the lady wholly banished his fears, and he resolved to find a + time and place. He kept excellent watch, and so one morning, when the + lady’s husband was going to another of his houses, and leaving at daybreak + by reason of the heat, the young gallant came to the house, where he found + the lady asleep in her bed, and perceived that the serving-women were gone + out of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Then, without having sense enough to fasten the door, he got into the + lady’s bed all booted and spurred as he was, and when she awoke, she was + as distressed as she could possibly be. But in spite of any remonstrance + that she could make to him, he took her by force, saying that if she + should make the matter known he would tell every one that she had sent for + him; and at this the lady was so greatly afraid that she durst not cry + out. Afterwards, on some of her women coming in, he rose in haste and + would have been perceived by none if his spur, which had become fastened + in the upper sheet, had not drawn it right off, leaving the lady quite + naked in her bed.” + </p> + <p> + So far the lady had told the story as if of another, but at the end she + involuntarily said— + </p> + <p> + “Never was a woman so confounded as I was, when I found myself lying quite + naked.” + </p> + <p> + At these last words the lady, who had hitherto hearkened to the story + without laughing, could not refrain from doing so, and said— + </p> + <p> + “By what I can see, you are well qualified to tell the tale.” + </p> + <p> + The poor lady tried in every possible way to clear her honour, but it was + already flown so far away that she was never able to recall it. + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, ladies, that had she felt any deep displeasure in doing + such a deed, she would have desired to forget it. But, as I have told you, + sin will of itself be discovered before it could otherwise be known, + unless it be hidden by the mantle which, as David says, makes man + blessed.” + </p> + <p> + “In good sooth,” said Ennasuite, “she was the greatest fool I have ever + heard of, to make the others laugh at her own expense.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not deem it strange,” said Parlamente, “that the word should follow + the deed, for it is easier to say than to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Geburon, “what sin had she committed? She was asleep in her + bed, he threatened her with shame and death; Lucrèce, who is so highly + praised, did just the same.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Parlamente, “and I confess that there is none too + righteous to fall. But when one has felt great offence in the deed, the + same holds good of the recollection; and whereas Lucrèce to efface the + latter killed herself, this foolish woman tried to make others laugh.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless,” said Nomerfide, “it seems that she was a virtuous woman, + seeing that she had been many times entreated but would never consent, so + that the gentleman must needs resort to treachery and force in order to + wrong her.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” said Parlamente. “Do you think that a woman has answered for her + honour, when she gives herself up after refusing two or three times? There + would then be many virtuous women among those that are deemed the + opposite, for many of them have been known to refuse for a long while + those to whom their hearts had been given, some doing this through fear + for their honour, and others in order to make themselves still more + ardently loved and esteemed. No account, therefore, should be made of a + woman unless she stands firm to the end. But if a man refuse a beautiful + girl, do you regard that as great virtue?” + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” said Oisille, “if a young and lusty man so refused, I should hold + it worthy of high praise, but none the less difficult of belief.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet,” said Dagoucin, “I know one who refused to partake in amours that + were sought after by all his comrades.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you,” said Longarine, “take my place and tell us the tale, yet + remember that you must here utter the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise you,” said Dagoucin, “that I will tell it in all its + simplicity, without any colouring or disguise.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0038" id="linkimage-0038"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/124.jpg" width="100%" alt="124.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0039" id="linkimage-0039"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/125a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="125a. The King Asking The Young Lord to Join his Banquet " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The King asking the Young Lord to join his Banquet] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0040" id="linkimage-0040"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/125.jpg" width="100%" alt="125.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXIII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A gentleman’s refusal of an amour that was sought after by + all his comrades, was imputed to him as great virtue, and + his wife loved him and esteemed him in consequence far more + than before</i>. (1) +</pre> + <p> + In the city of Paris there lived four girls, of whom two were sisters, and + such was their beauty, youth and freshness, that they were run after by + all the gallants. A gentleman, however, who at that time held the office + of Provost of Paris (2) from the King, seeing that his master was young, + of an age to desire such company, so cleverly contrived matters with all + four of the damsels that each, thinking herself intended for the King, + agreed to what the aforesaid Provost desired. This was that they should + all of them be present at a feast to which he invited his master. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 This story, omitted by Boaistuau, was included in + Gruget’s edition of the <i>Heptameron</i>.—L. + + 2 This is John de la Barre, already alluded to in Tale I. + The <i>Journal d’un Bourgeois de Paris</i> tells us that he was + born in Paris of poor parents, and became a favourite of + Francis I., who appointed him Bailiff of the capital, + without requiring him to pay any of the dues attaching to + the office. From the roll of the royal household for 1522, + we also find that he was then a gentleman of the bed chamber + with 1200 <i>livres</i> salary, master of the wardrobe (a post + worth 200 <i>livres</i>) and governor of the pages, for the board + and clothing of whom he received 5000 <i>livres</i> annually. In + 1526 he became Provost as well as Bailiff of Paris, the two + offices then being amalgamated. He was further created Count + of Etampes, and acquired the lordship of Veretz, best + remembered by its associations with the murder of Paul Louis + Courier. La Barre fought at Pavia, was taken prisoner with + the King, and remained his constant companion during his + captivity. Several letters of his, dating from this period + and of great historical interest, are still extant; some of + them have been published by Champollion-Figeac (<i>Captivité + de François Ier</i>) and Génin (<i>Lettres de Marguerite, &c</i>). + Under date 1533 (o. s.) the “Bourgeois de Paris” writes in + his <i>Journal</i>: “At the beginning of March there died in + Paris, at the house of Monsieur Poncher, Monsieur le Prévost + de Paris, named de La Barre.... The King was then in Paris, + at his chateau of the Louvre, and there was great pomp at + the obsequies; and he was borne to his lordship of Veretz, + near Tours, that he might be buried there.” Numerous + particulars concerning La Barre will also be found in M. de + Laborde’s <i>Comptes des Bâtiments du Roi au XVIeme Siècle</i>.— + L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + He told the latter his plan, which was approved both by the Prince and by + two other great personages of the Court, all three agreeing together to + share in the spoil. + </p> + <p> + While they were looking for a fourth comrade, there arrived a handsome and + honourable lord who was ten years younger than the others. He was invited + to the banquet, but although he accepted with a cheerful countenance, in + his heart he had no desire for it. For on the one part he had a wife who + was the mother of handsome children, and with whom he lived in great + happiness, and in such peacefulness that on no account would he have had + her suspect evil of him. And on the other hand he was the lover of one of + the handsomest ladies of her time in France, whom he loved and esteemed so + greatly that all other women seemed to him ugly beside her. + </p> + <p> + In his early youth, before he was married, he had found it impossible to + gaze upon and associate with other women, however beautiful they might be; + for he took more delight in gazing upon his sweetheart, and in perfectly + loving her, than in having all that another might have given him. + </p> + <p> + This lord, then, went to his wife and told her secretly of the enterprise + that his master had in hand, saying that he would rather die than do what + he had promised. For (he told her) just as there was no living man whom he + would not venture to attack in anger, although he would rather die than + commit a causeless and wilful murder unless his honour compelled him to + it; even so, unless driven by extreme love, such as may serve to blind + virtuous men, he would rather die than break his marriage vow to gratify + another. + </p> + <p> + On hearing these words of his, and finding that so much honour dwelt in + one so young, his wife loved and esteemed him more than she had ever done + before, and inquired how he thought he might best excuse himself, since + Princes often frown on those who do not praise what they like. + </p> + <p> + “I have always heard,” he replied, “that a wise man has a journey or a + sickness in his sleeve for use in time of need. I have therefore resolved + that I will feign a grievous sickness four or five days beforehand, and in + this matter your countenance may render me true service.” + </p> + <p> + “Tis a worthy and holy hypocrisy,” said his wife, “and I will not fail to + serve you with the saddest face I can command; for he who can avoid + offending God and angering the Prince is fortunate indeed.” + </p> + <p> + As it was resolved, so was it done, and the King was very sorry to hear + from the wife of her husband’s sickness. This, however, lasted no long + time; for, on account of certain business which arose, the King + disregarded his pleasure to attend to his duty, and betook himself away + from Paris. + </p> + <p> + However, one day, remembering their unfinished undertaking, he said to the + young lord:— + </p> + <p> + “We were very foolish to leave so suddenly without seeing the four girls + who are declared to be the fairest in my kingdom.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad,” replied the young lord, “that you failed in the matter, + for I was in great fear that, by reason of my sickness, I should be the + only one to miss so pleasant an adventure.” + </p> + <p> + By reason of this answer the King never suspected the dissimulation of the + young lord, who was thenceforward loved by his wife more dearly than he + had ever been before. + </p> + <p> + Hereupon Parlamente began to laugh, and could not hold from saying— + </p> + <p> + “He would have loved his wife better if he had done this for love of her + alone. But in any case he is worthy of great praise.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” said Hircan, “that it is no great merit in a man to keep + his chastity for love of his wife, inasmuch as there are many reasons + which in a manner compel him to do so. In the first place, God commands + it; his marriage vow binds him to it, and, further, surfeited nature is + not liable to temptation or desire as necessity is. But when the + unfettered love that a man bears towards a mistress of whom he has no + delight, and no other happiness save that of seeing her and speaking with + her, and from whom he often receives harsh replies—when this love is + so loyal and steadfast that nothing can ever make it change, I say that + such chastity is not simply praiseworthy but miraculous.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis no miracle in my opinion,” said Oisille, “for when the heart is + plighted, nothing is impossible to the body.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” said Hircan; “to bodies which have become those of angels.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not speak only of those,” said Oisille, “who by the grace of God are + wholly transformed into Himself, but of the grosser spirits that we see + here below among men. And, if you give heed, you will find that those who + have set their hearts and affections upon seeking after the perfection of + the sciences, have forgotten not only the lust of the flesh, but even the + most needful matters, such as food and drink; for so long as the soul is + stirred within the body, so long does the flesh continue as though + insensible. Thence comes it that those who love handsome, honourable and + virtuous women have such happiness of spirit in seeing them and speaking + with them, that the flesh is lulled in all its desires. Those who cannot + feel this happiness are the carnally-minded, who, wrapped in their + exceeding fatness, cannot tell whether they have a soul or not. But, when + the body is in subjection to the spirit, it is as though heedless of the + failings of the flesh, and the beliefs of such persons may render them + insensible of the same. I knew a gentleman who, to show that he loved his + mistress more dearly than did any other man, proved it to all his comrades + by holding his bare fingers in the flame of a candle. And then, with his + eyes fixed upon his mistress, he remained firm until he had burned himself + to the bone, and yet said that he had felt no hurt.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks,” said Geburon, “that the devil whose martyr he was ought to + have made a St. Lawrence of him; for there are few whose love-flame is hot + enough to keep them from fearing that of the smallest taper. But if a lady + had suffered me to endure so much hurt for her sake, I should either have + sought a rich reward or else have taken my love away from her.” + </p> + <p> + “So,” said Parlamente, “you would have your hour after the lady had had + hers? That was what was done by a gentleman of the neighbourhood of + Valencia in Spain, whose story was told to me by a captain, a right worthy + man.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, madam,” said Dagoucin, “take my place and tell it us, for I + am sure that it must be a good one.” + </p> + <p> + “This story, ladies,” said Parlamente, “will teach you both to think twice + when you are inclined to give a refusal and to lay aside the thought that + the present will always continue; and so, knowing that it is subject to + mutation, you will have a care for the time to come.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0041" id="linkimage-0041"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/132.jpg" width="100%" alt="132.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0042" id="linkimage-0042"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/133a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="133a. The Lady Swooning in The Arms of The Gentleman Of Valencia Who Had Become a Monk " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of Valencia who had become + a Monk] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0043" id="linkimage-0043"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/133.jpg" width="100%" alt="133.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXIV</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>After a lady had for the space of five or six years made + trial of the love that a certain gentleman bore her, she + desired to have a still stronger proof of it, and reduced + him to such despair that he turned monk, on which account + she was not able to win him back again when she would fain + have done so</i>. +</pre> + <p> + In the city of Valencia there lived a gentleman, who for the space of five + or six years had loved a lady so perfectly that the honour and conscience + of neither of them had taken any hurt; for his intent was to have her as + his wife, and this was reasonable, seeing that he was handsome, rich and + of good descent. But, before he became her lover, he first inquired + concerning her own mind, whereupon she declared herself willing to marry + according to the counsels of her kinsfolk. The latter, being come together + for the purpose, deemed the marriage a very reasonable one provided that + the maiden was herself disposed to it; but she—whether because she + thought to do better or because she wished to hide her love for him—-made + some difficulty, and the company separated, not without regret at having + failed to conclude a match so well suited to both parties. + </p> + <p> + The most grieved of all was the poor gentleman, who would have borne his + misfortune with patience had he thought that the fault lay with the + kinsfolk and not with her; but he knew the truth, and the knowledge was to + him worse than death. So, without speaking to his sweetheart or to any + other person, he withdrew to his own house, and, after setting his affairs + in order, betook himself to a solitary spot, where he strove to forget his + love and change it wholly to that love of our Lord which were truly a + higher duty than the other. + </p> + <p> + During this time he received no tidings of his mistress or her kindred, + and he therefore resolved that, since he had failed to obtain the happiest + life he could hope for, he would choose the most austere and disagreeable + that he could imagine. With this sad intent, which might well have been + called despair, he went and became a monk in the monastery of St. Francis. + This monastery was not far from the dwellings of divers of his kinsfolk, + who, on hearing of his desperate condition, did all that in them lay to + hinder his purpose; but this was so firmly rooted in his heart that it was + not possible to turn him from it. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, as the source of his distemper was known to them, they + determined to seek the cure, and so repaired to her who was the cause of + his sudden devoutness. She was greatly astonished and grieved by this + mischance, for, in refusing for a time, she had thought only to test his + affection, not to lose it for ever. Seeing now the evident risk that she + ran of doing this last, she sent him a letter, which, ill-translated, was + as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Since love, if tested not full needfully, + Steadfast and faithful is not shown to be, + By length of time my heart would that assay + Whereon itself was set to love alway— + To wit, a husband with that true love filled + Such as no lapsing time has ever killed. + This, then, was the sole reason that I drew + My kin to hinder for a year or two + That closest tie which lasts till life is not, + And whereby woe is oftentimes begot. + Yet sought I not to have you wholly sent + Away; such was in no wise my intent, + For none save you could I have e’er adored + Or looked to as my husband and my lord. + But woe is me, what tidings reach mine ear! + That you, to lead the cloistered life austere, + Are gone with speech to none; whereat the pain + That ever holds me, now can brook no rein, + But forces me mine own estate to slight + For that which yours aforetime was of right; + To seek him out who once sought me alone, + And win him who myself has sometimes won. + Nay then, my love, life of the life in me, + For loss of whom I fain would cease to be, + Turn hither, graciously, those eyes of pain + And trace those wandering footsteps back again. + Leave the grey robe and its austerity, + Come back and taste of that felicity + Which often you desired, and which to-day + Time has nor slain, nor swept away. + For you alone I’ve kept myself; and I, + Lacking your presence, cannot choose but die. + Come back then; in your sweetheart have belief, + And for past memories find cool relief + In holy marriage-ties. Ah! then, my dear, + To me, not to your pride give ready ear, + And rest of this assured, I had no thought + To give, sweetheart, to you offence in aught, + But only yearned your faithfulness to prove + And then to make you happy with my love. + But now that through this trial, free from scathe, + Are come your steadfastness and patient faith, + And all that loyal love to me is known, + Which at the last has made me yours alone, + Come, my beloved, take what is your due + And wholly yield to me, as I to you!” + </pre> + <p> + This letter, brought by a friend of hers with every remonstrance that it + was possible to make, was received and read by the gentleman friar with + such sadness of countenance, such sighs and such tears, that it seemed as + though he would drown and burn the poor epistle. But he made no reply to + it, except to tell the messenger that the mortification of his exceeding + passion had cost him so dear as to have taken from him both the wish to + live and the fear to die. He therefore requested her who had been the + cause of this, that since she had not chosen to satisfy his passionate + longings, she would, now that he was rid of them, abstain from tormenting + him, and rest content with the evil which was past. For that evil he could + find no remedy but the choice of an austere life, which by continual + penance might bring him to forget his grief, and, by fasts and + disciplines, subdue his body, till the thought of death should be to him + but a sovereign consolation. Above all, he begged that he might never hear + of her, since he found the mere remembrance of her name a purgatory not to + be endured. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman went back with this mournful reply, and reported it to the + maiden who did not hear it without intolerable sorrow. But Love, which + will not suffer the spirit utterly to fail, gave her the thought that, if + she could see him, her words and presence might be of more effect than the + writing. She therefore, with her father and the nearest of her kin, went + to the monastery where he abode. She had left nothing in her box that + might set off her beauty, for she felt sure that, could he but once look + at her and hear her, the fire that had so long dwelt in both their hearts + must of necessity be kindled again in greater strength than before. + </p> + <p> + Coming thus into the monastery towards the end of vespers, she sent for + him to come to her in a chapel that was in the cloister. He, knowing not + who it was that sought him, went in all ignorance to the sternest battle + in which he had ever been. When she saw him so pale and wan that she could + hardly recognise him, yet filled with grace, in no whit less winning than + of yore, Love made her stretch out her arms to embrace him, whilst her + pity at seeing him in such a plight so enfeebled her heart, that she sank + swooning to the floor. + </p> + <p> + The poor monk, who was not void of brotherly charity, lifted her up and + set her upon a seat in the chapel. Although he had no less need of aid + than she had, he feigned to be unaware of her passion, and so strengthened + his heart in the love of God against the opportunities now present with + him, that, judging by his countenance, he seemed not to know what was + actually before him. Having recovered from her weakness, she turned upon + him her beautiful, piteous eyes, which were enough to soften a rock, and + began to utter all such discourse as she believed apt to draw him from the + place in which he now was. He replied as virtuously as he was able; but at + last, finding that his heart was being softened by his sweetheart’s + abundant tears, and perceiving that Love, the cruel archer whose pains he + long had known, was ready with his golden dart to deal him fresh and more + deadly wounds, he fled both from Love and from his sweetheart, like one + whose only resource lay, indeed, in flight. + </p> + <p> + When he was shut up in his room, not desiring to let her go without some + settlement of the matter, he wrote her a few words in Spanish, which seem + to me so excellent in their matter that I would not by translating them + mar their grace. These were brought to her by a little novice, who found + her still in the chapel and in such despair that, had it been lawful, she + too would have remained there and turned friar. But when she saw the + words, which were these— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Volvete don venesti, anima mia, + Que en las tristas vidas es la mia,” (1) +</pre> + <p> + she knew that all hope was gone, and she resolved to follow the advice of + him and her friends, and so returned home, there to lead a life as + melancholy as that of her lover in his monastery was austere. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 “Return whence thou earnest, my soul, + for among the sad lives is mine.”’ +</pre> + <p> + “You see, ladies, what vengeance the gentleman took upon his harsh + sweetheart, who, thinking to try him, reduced him to such despair that, + when she would have regained him, she could not do so.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” said Nomerfide, “that he did not lay aside his gown and + marry her. It would, I think, have been a perfect marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “In good sooth,” said Simontault, “I think he was very wise. Anyone who + well considers what marriage is will deem it no less grievous than a + monkish life. Moreover, being so greatly weakened by fasts and abstinence, + he feared to take upon him a burden of that kind which lasts all through + life.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks,” said Hircan, “she wronged so feeble a man by tempting him to + marriage, for ‘tis too much for the strongest man alive; but had she + spoken to him of love, free from any obligation but that of the will, + there is no friar’s cord that would not have been untied. However, since + she sought to draw him out of purgatory by offering him hell, I think that + he was quite right to refuse her, and to let her feel the pain that her + own refusal had cost him.” + </p> + <p> + “By my word,” said Ennasuite, “there are many who, thinking to do better + than their fellows, do either worse or else the very opposite of what they + desire.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” said Geburon, “you remind me—though, indeed, the matter is + not greatly to the point—of a woman who did the opposite of what she + desired, and so caused a great uproar in the church of St. John of Lyons.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you,” said Parlamente, “take my place and tell us about it.” + </p> + <p> + “My story,” said Geburon, “will not be so long or so piteous as the one we + have heard from Parlamente.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0044" id="linkimage-0044"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/141.jpg" width="100%" alt="141.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0045" id="linkimage-0045"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/143a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="143a. The Old Woman Startled by The Waking of The Soldier " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Old Woman startled by the Waking of the Soldier] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0046" id="linkimage-0046"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/143.jpg" width="100%" alt="143.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXV</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>Though the priests of St. John of Lyons would fain have + concealed it, the falsity of a miracle was brought to light + through an old woman’s folly becoming known</i>. (1) +</pre> + <p> + In the church of St. John of Lyons there is a very dark chapel, and inside + it a stone tomb with figures of great personages raised life-like upon it, + whilst several men-at-arms lie all around it. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 We believe that the incident here narrated occurred early + in 1525, when Margaret is known to have been at Lyons. She + and her husband (on his return from Pavia) resided there at + the house of the Obédiencier de St. Just, and it was in the + church of St. Just that the Duke of Alençon was buried. + Doubtless it was during his illness that the <i>novena</i> + alluded to in the final tale of the <i>Heptameron</i> was + performed by Queen Margaret at the church of St. John of + Lyons, where the two most important chapels, according to + Quincarnon’s <i>Antiquités et la fondation de la Métropole + des Gaules, &c.</i>, Lyons, 1673, were the Most Holy Eucharist, + or Bourbon chapel, built in 1449 by Charles de Bourbon, + Primate of Gaul, and the Holy Sepulchre, or Good Friday + chapel, erected at the beginning of the fifteenth century by + Philip de Turey, Archbishop of Lyons. Unfortunately the + church of St. John was in 1652 devastated by the Huguenots, + who in their insensate fury destroyed almost all the tombs. + It is therefore now impossible to identify the chapel and + tomb to which the Queen of Navarre refers in the above + story, though her allusion to the dimness of the light would + incline us to place the incident she recounts in the + Chapelle du St. Sépulcre.—L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + One day a soldier, walking in the church at the very height of summer, + felt inclined to sleep, and, looking at this dark, cool chapel, resolved + to go and guard the tomb in sleep like the rest; (2) and accordingly he + lay down beside them. Now it chanced that a very pious old woman came in + while his sleep was the soundest, and having performed her devotions, + holding a lighted taper in her hand, she sought to fix this taper to the + tomb. Finding that the sleeping man was nearest to her, she tried to set + it upon his forehead, thinking that it was of stone; but the wax would not + stick to such stone as this, whereupon the worthy dame, believing that the + reason of it was the coldness of the statue, applied the flame to the + sleeper’s forehead, that she might the better fix the taper on it. At + this, however, the statue, which was not without feeling, began to cry + out. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 Meaning the recumbent statues of the men-at-arms.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + The good woman was then in exceeding fear, and set herself to shout, “A + miracle! a miracle!” until all who were in the church ran, some to ring + the bells, and the rest to view the miracle. The good woman forthwith took + them to see the statue that had stirred, whereupon many found food for + laughter; though the greater number were unable to feel any content, + inasmuch as they had really determined to make profit out of the tomb, and + to gain as much money by it as by the crucifix on their pulpit, which is + said to have spoken. (3) But when the woman’s folly became known the farce + came to an end. If all knew of their follies, they would not be accounted + holy nor their miracles true. And I would beg you, ladies, to see + henceforward to what saints you offer your candles. (4) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 The crucifix in the church of St. John was mainly of + silver, and, according to Quincarnon, at the time of a + Huguenot outbreak at Lyons it was thrown to the ground by a + Calvinist minister named Ruffy, who, after reducing it to + fragments, carried all the precious metal away with him.—M. + + 4 The latter portion of this story and all the dialogue + that follows it are omitted by Boaistuau in his edition. + Gruget inserted the dialogue, but he did not dare to print + the passage respecting the talking crucifix.—L. +</pre> + <p> + “‘Tis notable,” said Hircan, “that, whatever the matter in question may + be, women always do wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it wrong,” asked Nomerfide, “to bring candles to a tomb?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Hircan, “if the flame be turned against a man’s forehead; for + nothing good should be called good if it be attended with evil. You may be + sure that the poor woman thought she had made a fine gift to God with her + little candle.” + </p> + <p> + “I look not to the gift,” said Oisille, “but to the heart that offers it. + Perhaps this worthy woman had more love for God than those who offer great + torches; for, as the Gospel says, she gave of her need.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, I no not believe,” said Saffredent, “that God, who is sovereign + wisdom, can be pleased with the foolishness of women. Although simplicity + is pleasing to Him, I see from the Scriptures that He despises the + ignorant; and if He commands us to be as harmless as the dove, He none the + less commands us to be wise like the serpent.” + </p> + <p> + “For my part,” said Oisille, “I do not call the woman ignorant who brings + her candle or burning taper into the presence of God, and makes amends for + her wrongdoing on bended knees before her sovereign Lord, confessing her + unworthiness and with steadfast hope seeking pity and salvation.” + </p> + <p> + “Would to God,” said Dagoucin, “that all understood it in the same way as + you; but I do not believe that these poor fools do it with the intent you + say.” + </p> + <p> + “The women,” said Oisille, “who are least able to speak are just those who + are most sensible of the love and will of God; wherefore ‘tis well to + judge none but ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + Ennasuite laughed and said—“‘Tis no wonderful thing to have + frightened a sleeping varlet, since women of as lowly condition have + frightened noble Princes, without putting fire to their foreheads.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure,” said Geburon, “that you know some such story, which you are + willing to relate; wherefore, if it please you, you shall take my place.” + </p> + <p> + “The tale will not be a long one,” said Ennasuite, “but, could I recount + it just as it happened, you would have no desire to weep.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0047" id="linkimage-0047"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/147.jpg" width="100%" alt="147.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0048" id="linkimage-0048"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/149a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="149a. The Old Serving-woman Explaining Her Mistake To The Duke and Duchess of Vendôme " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Old Serving-woman explaining her Mistake <br /> to the Duke and + Duchess of Vendôme] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0049" id="linkimage-0049"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/149.jpg" width="100%" alt="149.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXVI</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>The Duke of Vendôme and the Princess of Navarre, whilst + resting together one afternoon, were surprised by an old + serving-woman, who took them for a prothonotary and a damsel + between whom she suspected some affection; and, through this + fine justicement, a matter, of which intimates were + ignorant, was made known to strangers</i>. +</pre> + <p> + In the year when the Duke of Vendôme married the Princess of Navarre, (1) + the King and Queen, their parents, after feasting at Vendôme, went with + them into Guienne, and, visiting a gentleman’s house where there were many + honourable and beautiful ladies, the newly married pair danced so long in + this excellent company that they became weary, and, withdrawing to their + chamber, lay down in their clothes upon the bed and fell asleep, doors and + windows being shut and none remaining with them. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 It was in October 1548, some eighteen months after Henry + II. had succeeded Francis I., that Anthony de Bourbon, Duke + of Vendôme, who after the King’s children held the first + rank in France, was married at Moulins to Margaret’s + daughter Jane of Navarre. The Duke was then thirty and Jane + twenty years old. “I never saw so joyous a bride,” wrote + Henry II. to Montmorency, “she never does anything but + laugh.” She was indeed well pleased with the match, the + better so, perhaps, as her husband had settled 100,000 + livres on her, a gift which was the more acceptable by + reason of her extravagant tastes and love of display. Ste. + Marthe, in his <i>Oraison Funèbre</i> on Queen Margaret, speaks + of her daughter’s marriage as “a most fortunate + conjunction,” and refers to her son-in-law as “the most + valiant and magnanimous Prince Anthony, Duke of Vendôme, + whose admirable virtues have so inclined all France to love + and revere him, that princes and nobles, the populace, the + great and the humble alike, no sooner hear his name + mentioned than they forthwith wish him and beg God to bestow + on him all possible health and prosperity.”—Ed +</pre> + <p> + Just, however, when their sleep was at its soundest, they were awakened by + their door being opened from without, and the Duke drew the curtain and + looked to see who it might be, suspecting indeed that it was one of his + friends who was minded to surprise him. But he perceived a tall, old + bed-chamber woman come in and walk straight up to their bed, where, for + the darkness of the room, she could not recognise them. Seeing them, + however, quite close together, she began to cry out— + </p> + <p> + “Thou vile and naughty wanton! I have long suspected thee to be what thou + art, yet for lack of proof spoke not of it to my mistress. But now thy + vileness is so clearly shown that I shall in no sort conceal it; and thou, + foul renegade, who hast wrought such shame in this house by the undoing of + this poor wench, if it were not for the fear of God, I would e’en cudgel + thee where thou liest. Get up, in the devil’s name, get up, for methinks + even now thou hast no shame.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke of Vendôme and the Princess hid their faces against each other in + order to have the talk last longer, and they laughed so heartily that they + were not able to utter a word. Finding that for all her threats they were + not willing to rise, the serving-woman came closer in order to pull them + by the arms. Then she at once perceived both from their faces and from + their dress that they were not those whom she sought, and, recognising + them, she flung herself upon her knees, begging them to pardon her error + in thus robbing them of their rest. + </p> + <p> + But the Duke of Vendôme was not content to know so little, and rising + forthwith, he begged the old woman to say for whom she had taken them. + This at first she was not willing to do; but at last, after he had sworn + to her never to reveal it, she told him that there was a girl in the house + with whom a prothonotary (2) was in love, and that she had long kept a + watch on them, since it pleased her little to see her mistress trusting in + a man who was working this shame towards her. She then left the Prince and + Princess shut in as she had found them, and they laughed for a long while + over their adventure. And, although they afterwards told the story they + would never name any of the persons concerned. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 The office of apostolic prothonotary was instituted by + Pope Clement I., there being at first twelve such officers, + whose duty was to write the lives of the saints and other + apostolic records. Gradually their number so increased, that + in the fifteenth century the title of prothonotary had come + to be merely an honorary dignity, conferred as a matter of + course on doctors of theology of noble family, or otherwise + of note. In the role of Francis I.‘s household for 1522, we + find but one prothonotary mentioned, but in that for 1529 + there are twelve. More than one of them might have been + called <i>un letrado que no tenia muchas letras</i>, as Brantôme + wrote of Thomas de Lescun, Prothonotary of Foix and + afterwards Marshal of France. “In those days,” adds the + author of <i>Les Grands Capitaines Français</i>, “it was usual + for prothonotaries and even for those of good family not to + have much learning, but to enjoy themselves, hunt, make love + and seduce the wives of the poor gentlemen who were gone to + the wars.”—<i>OEuvres complètes de Brantôme</i>, 8vo edit., vol. + ii. p. 144.—L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “You see, ladies, how the worthy dame, whilst thinking to do a fine deed + of justice, made known to strange princes a matter of which the servants + of the house had never heard.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I know,” said Parlamente, “in whose house it was, and who the + prothonotary is; for he has governed many a lady’s house, and when he + cannot win the mistress’s favour he never fails to have that of one of the + maids. In other matters, however, he is an honourable and worthy man.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say ‘in other matters’?” said Hircan. “Tis for that very + behaviour that I deem him so worthy a man.” + </p> + <p> + “I can see,” said Parlamente, “that you know the sickness and the + sufferer, and that, if he needed excuse, you would not fail him as + advocate. Yet I would not trust myself to a man who could not contrive his + affairs without having them known to the serving-women.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you imagine,” said Nomerfide, “that men care whether such a matter + be known if only they can compass their end? You may be sure that, even if + none spoke of it but themselves, it would still of necessity be known.” + </p> + <p> + “They have no need,” said Hircan angrily, “to say all that they know.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” she replied, blushing, “they would not say it to their own + advantage.” + </p> + <p> + “Judging from your words,” said Simontault, “it would seem that men + delight in hearing evil spoken about women, and I am sure that you reckon + me among men of that kind. I therefore greatly wish to speak well of one + of your sex, in order that I may not be held a slanderer by all the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “I give you my place,” said Ennasuite, “praying you withal to control your + natural disposition, so that you may acquit yourself worthily in our + honour.” + </p> + <p> + Forthwith Simontault began— + </p> + <p> + “Tis no new thing, ladies, to hear of some virtuous act on your part + which, methinks, should not be hidden but rather written in letters of + gold, that it may serve women as an example, and give men cause for + admiration at seeing in the weaker sex that from which weakness is prone + to shrink. I am prompted, therefore, to relate something that I heard from + Captain Robertval and divers of his company.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0050" id="linkimage-0050"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/154.jpg" width="100%" alt="154.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0051" id="linkimage-0051"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/155a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="155a. The Wife Reading to Her Husband on The Desert Island " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Wife Reading to her Husband on the Desert Island] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0052" id="linkimage-0052"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/155.jpg" width="100%" alt="155.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXVII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A poor woman risked her own life to save that of her + husband, whom she forsook not until death</i>. +</pre> + <p> + The Captain Robertval aforesaid once made a voyage across the seas to the + island of Canadas, (1) himself being chief in command by the appointment + of the King, his master. And there, if the air of the country were good, + he had resolved to dwell and to build towns and castles. With this work he + made such a beginning as is known to all; and to people the country with + Christians he took with him all kinds of artificers, among whom was a most + wicked man, who betrayed his master and put him in danger of being + captured by the natives. But God willed that his attempt should be + discovered before any evil befell the Captain, who, seizing the wicked + traitor, was minded to punish him as he deserved. And this he would have + done but for the man’s wife, who had followed her husband through the + perils of the deep and would not now leave him to die, but with many tears + so wrought upon the Captain and all his company that, for pity of her and + for the sake of the services she had done them, her request was granted. + In consequence, husband and wife were left together on a small island in + the sea, inhabited only by wild beasts, and were suffered to take with + them such things as were needful. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 Canada had been discovered by Cabot in 1497; and in 1535 + James Cartier sailed up the St. Lawrence and, taking + possession of the country in the name of Francis I., called + it La Nouvelle France. Seven years later a gentleman of + Picardy, named John Francis de La Roque, Lord of Robertval, + accompanying Cartier, established a colony on the Isle + Royale, and subsequently built the fort of Charlebourg. One + of his pilots, named Alphonse of Saintonge, meanwhile + reconnoitred the coasts both of Canada and Labrador. About + this time (1542) the incidents related in the above tale + must have occurred.—L. +</pre> + <p> + The poor folk, finding themselves all alone and surrounded by wild and + cruel beasts, had no recourse but to God, who had ever been this poor + woman’s steadfast hope; and, since she found all her consolation in Him, + she carried the New Testament with her for safeguard, nourishment and + consolation, and in it read unceasingly. Further, she laboured with her + husband to make them a little dwelling as best they might, and when the + lions (2) and other animals came near to devour them, the husband with his + arquebuss and she with stones made so stout a defence that not only were + the beasts afraid to approach, but often some were slain that were very + good for food. And on this flesh and the herbs of the land, they lived for + some time after their bread failed them. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 This mention of lions on a small desert island in the + Canadian seas would be rather perplexing did we not know how + great at that time was the general ignorance on most matters + connected with natural history. Possibly the allusion may be + to the <i>lion marin</i>, as the French call the leonine seal. + This, however, is anything but an aggressive animal. + Curiously enough, Florimond de Rémond, the sixteenth century + writer, speaks of a drawing of a “marine lion” given to him + “by that most illustrious lady Margaret Queen of Navarre, to + whom it had been presented by a Spanish gentleman, who was + taking a second copy of it to the Emperor Charles V., then + in Spain.”—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + At last, however, the husband could no longer endure this nutriment, and + by reason of the waters that they drank became so swollen that in a short + while he died, and this without any service or consolation save from his + wife, she being both his doctor and his confessor; and when he had + joyously passed out of the desert into the heavenly country, the poor + woman, left now in solitude, buried him in the earth as deeply as she was + able. Nevertheless the beasts quickly knew of it, and came to eat the dead + body; but the poor woman, firing with the arquebuss from her cabin, saved + her husband’s flesh from finding such a grave. + </p> + <p> + Leading thus in regard to her body the life of a brute, and in regard to + her soul the life of an angel, she passed her time in reading, + meditations, prayers and orisons, having a glad and happy mind in a wasted + and half-dead body. But He who never forsakes His own, and who manifests + His power when others are in despair, did not suffer the virtue that he + had put into this woman to be unknown by men, but willed that it should be + made manifest to His own glory. He therefore brought things so to pass, + that after some time, when one of the ships of the armament was passing by + the island, those that were looking that way perceived some smoke, which + reminded them of the persons who had been left there, and they resolved to + go and see what God had done with them. + </p> + <p> + The poor woman, seeing the ship draw nigh, dragged herself to the shore, + and there they found her on their arrival. After giving praise to God, she + brought them to her poor cottage and showed them on what she had lived + during her abode in that place. This would have seemed to them impossible + of belief, but for their knowledge that God is as powerful to feed His + servants in a desert as at the greatest banquet in the world. As the poor + woman could not continue in such a spot, they took her with them straight + to La Rochelle, where, their voyage ended, they arrived. And when they had + made known to the inhabitants the faithfulness and endurance of this + woman, she was very honourably received by all the ladies, who gladly sent + their daughters to her to learn to read and write. In this honest calling + she maintained herself for the rest of her life, having no other desire + save to admonish every one to love and trust Our Lord, and setting forth + as an example the great compassion that He had shown towards her. + </p> + <p> + “Now, ladies, you cannot say I do not praise the virtues which God has + given you, and which show the more when possessed by one of lowly + condition.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, we are not sorry,” said Oisille, “to hear you praise the mercies of + Our Lord, for in truth all virtue comes from Him; but we must confess that + man assists in the work of God as little as women. Neither can by heart or + will do more than plant. God alone giveth the increase.” + </p> + <p> + “If you have studied Scripture,” said Saffredent, “you know that St. Paul + says that Apollos planted and he himself watered; (3) but he does not + speak of women as having set hand to the work of God.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 The text is just the contrary: “I have planted, Apollos + watered; but God gave the increase.”—I <i>Corinthians</i> iii. + 6.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “You would follow,” said Parlamente, “the opinion of those wicked men who + take a passage of Scripture that is in their favour and leave one that is + against them. If you had read St. Paul to the end, you would have found + that he commends himself to the ladies, who greatly laboured with him in + the work of the Gospel.” + </p> + <p> + “However that may be,” said Longarine, “the woman in the story is well + worthy of praise both for the love she bore her husband, on whose behalf + she risked her own life, and for the faith she had in God, who, as we see, + did not forsake her.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Ennasuite, “as far as the first is concerned, that there + is no woman present but would do as much to save her husband’s life.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Parlamente, “that some husbands are such brutes that the + women who live with them should not find it strange to live among their + fellows.” + </p> + <p> + Ennasuite, who took these words to herself, could not refrain from saying— + </p> + <p> + “Provided the beasts did not bite me, their company would be more pleasant + to me than that of men, who are choleric and intolerable. But I abide by + what I have said, that, if my husband were in a like danger, I should not + leave him to die.” + </p> + <p> + “Beware,” said Nomerfide, “of loving too fondly, for excess of love will + deceive both him and you. There is a medium in all things, and through + lack of knowledge love often gives birth to hate.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks,” said Simontault, “you have not carried your discourse so far + without having an instance to confirm it. If, then, you know such a one, I + give you my place that you may tell it to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Nomerfide, “the tale shall, as is my wont, be a short and a + merry one.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0053" id="linkimage-0053"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/161.jpg" width="100%" alt="161.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0054" id="linkimage-0054"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/163a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="163a. The Apothecary’s Wife Giving The Dose of Cantharides To Her Husband " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Apothecary’s Wife giving the Dose of Cantharides <br /> to her + Husband] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0055" id="linkimage-0055"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/163.jpg" width="100%" alt="163.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXVIII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>An apothecary’s wife, finding that her husband made no + great account of her, and wishing to be better loved by him, + followed the advice that he had given to a “commère” (1) of + his, whose sickness was of the same kind as her own; but she + prospered not so well as the other, and instead of love + reaped hate</i>. + + 1 Mr W. Kelly has pointed out (Bohn’s <i>Heptameron</i>, p. 395) + that in France the godfather and godmother of a child are + called in reference to each other compère and commère, terms + implying mutual relations of an extremely friendly kind. “The + same usage exists in all Catholic countries,” adds Mr Kelly, + “and one of the novels of the <i>Decameron</i> is founded on a + very general opinion in Italy that an amorous connection + between a <i>compadre</i> and his <i>commadre</i> partook almost of + the nature of incest.” + </pre> + <p> + In the town of Pau in Beam there was an apothecary whom men called Master + Stephen. He had married a virtuous wife and a thrifty, with beauty enough + to content him. But just as he was wont to taste different drugs, so did + he also with women, that he might be the better able to speak of all + kinds. His wife was greatly tormented by this, and at last lost all + patience; for he made no account of her except by way of penance during + Holy Week. + </p> + <p> + One day when the apothecary was in his shop, and his wife had hidden + herself behind him to listen to what he might say, a woman, who was + “commère” to the apothecary, and was stricken with the same sickness as + his own wife, came in, and, sighing, said to him— + </p> + <p> + “Alas, good godfather, I am the most unhappy woman alive. I love my + husband better than myself, and do nothing but think of how I may serve + and obey him; but all my labour is wasted, for he prefers the wickedest, + foulest, vilest woman in the town to me. So, godfather, if you know of any + drug that will change his humour, prithee give it me, and, if I be well + treated by him, I promise to reward you by all means in my power.” + </p> + <p> + The apothecary, to comfort her, said that he knew of a powder which, if + she gave it to her husband with his broth or roast, after the fashion of + Duke’s powder, (2) would induce him to entertain her in the best possible + manner. The poor woman, wishing to behold this miracle, asked him what the + powder was, and whether she could have some of it. He declared that there + was nothing like powder of cantharides, of which he had a goodly store; + and before they parted she made him prepare this powder, and took as much + of it as was needful for her purpose. And afterwards she often thanked the + apothecary, for her husband, who was strong and lusty, and did not take + too much, was none the worse for it. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 Boaistuau and Gruget call this preparation <i>poudre de + Dun</i>, as enigmatical an appellation as <i>poudre de Duc</i>. As + for the specific supplied by the apothecary, the context + shows that this was the same aphrodisiac as the Marquis de + Sades put to such a detestable use at Marseilles in 1772, + when, after fleeing from justice, he was formally sentenced + to death, and broken, in effigy, upon the wheel. See P. + Lacroix’s <i>Curiosités de l’histoire de France, IIème Série</i>, + Paris, 1858.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + The apothecary’s wife heard all this talk, and thought within herself that + she had no less need of the recipe than her husband’s “commère.” + Observing, therefore, the place where her husband put the remainder of the + powder, she resolved that she would use some of it when she found an + opportunity; and this she did within three or four days. Her husband, who + felt a coldness of the stomach, begged her to make him some good soup, but + she replied that a roast with Duke’s powder would be better for him; + whereupon he bade her go quickly and prepare it, and take cinnamon and + sugar from the shop. This she did, not forgetting also to take the + remainder of the powder given to the “commère,” without any heed to dose, + weight or measure. + </p> + <p> + The husband ate the roast, and thought it very good. Before long, however, + he felt its effects, and sought to soothe them with his wife, but this he + found was impossible, for he felt all on fire, in such wise that he knew + not which way to turn. He then told his wife that she had poisoned him, + and demanded to know what she had put into the roast. She forthwith + confessed the truth, telling him that she herself required the recipe + quite as much as his “commère.” By reason of his evil plight, the poor + apothecary could belabour her only with hard words; however, he drove her + from his presence, and sent to beg the Queen of Navarre’s apothecary (3) + to come and see him. This the Queen’s apothecary did, and whilst giving + the other all the remedies proper for his cure (which in a short time was + effected) he rebuked him very sharply for his folly in counselling another + to use drugs that he was not willing to take himself, and declared that + his wife had only done her duty, inasmuch as she had desired to be loved + by her husband. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 It was from her apothecary no doubt that Queen Margaret + heard this story.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + Thus the poor man was forced to endure the results of his folly in + patience, and to own that he had been justly punished in being brought + into such derision as he had proposed for another. + </p> + <p> + “Methinks, ladies, this woman’s love was as indiscreet as it was great.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you call it loving her husband,” said Hircan, “to give him pain for + the sake of the delight that she herself looked to have?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe,” said Longarine, “she only desired to win back her husband’s + love, which she deemed to have gone far astray; and for the sake of such + happiness there is nothing that a woman will not do.” “Nevertheless,” said + Geburon, “a woman ought on no account to make her husband eat or drink + anything unless, either through her own experience or that of learned + folk, she be sure that it can do him no harm. Ignorance, however, must be + excused, and hers was worthy of excuse; for the most blinding passion is + love, and the most blinded of persons is a woman, since she has not + strength enough to conduct so weighty a matter wisely.” + </p> + <p> + “Geburon,” said Oisille, “you are departing from your own excellent custom + so as to make yourself of like mind with your fellows; but there are women + who have endured love and jealousy in patience.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Hircan, “and pleasantly too; for the most sensible are those + who take as much amusement in laughing at their husbands’ doings, as their + husbands take in secretly deceiving them. If you will make it my turn, so + that the Lady Oisille may close the day, I will tell you a story about a + wife and her husband who are known to all of us here.” + </p> + <p> + “Begin, then,” said Nomerfide; and Hircan, laughing, began thus:— + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0056" id="linkimage-0056"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/168.jpg" width="100%" alt="168.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0057" id="linkimage-0057"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/169a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="169a. The Wife Discovering Her Husband in The Hood Of Their Serving-maid " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Wife discovering her Husband in the <br /> Hood of their Serving-maid] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0058" id="linkimage-0058"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/169.jpg" width="100%" alt="169.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXIX</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>On finding her husband bolting meal in the garb of her + serving-woman, whom he was awaiting in the hope that he + would obtain from her what he desired, a certain lady showed + such good sense that she was content to laugh and make merry + at his folly</i>. +</pre> + <p> + At the castle of Odoz (1) in Bigorre, there dwelt one Charles, equerry to + the King and an Italian by birth, who had married a very virtuous and + honourable woman. After bearing him many children, she was now grown old, + whilst he also was not young. And he lived with her in all peacefulness + and affection, for although he would at times speak with his + serving-women, his excellent wife took no notice of this, but quietly + dismissed them whenever she found that they were becoming too familiar in + her house. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 The scene of this tale is laid at the castle where + Margaret died. Ste. Marthe in his <i>Oraison funèbre</i>, + pronounced at Alençon fifteen days after the Queen’s death, + formally states that she expired at Odos near Tarbes. He is + not likely to have been mistaken, so that Brantome’s + assertion that the Queen died at Audos in Beam may be + accepted as incorrect (<i>ante</i>, vol. i. p. lxxxviii.). It is + further probable that the above tale was actually written at + Odos (<i>ante</i>, vol. i. p. lxxxvi.), but the authenticity of + the incidents is very doubtful, as there is an extremely + similar story in the <i>Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles</i> (No, xvii. + <i>Le Conseiller au bluteau</i>), in which the hero of the + adventure is a “great clerk and knight who presided over the + Court of Accounts in Paris.” For subsequent imitations see + Malespini’s <i>Ducento Novelle</i> (No. xcvii.) and <i>Les Joyeuses + Adventures et Nouvelles Recreations</i> (No. xix.)—L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + One day she hired a discreet and worthy girl, telling her of her husband’s + temper and her own, and how she was wont to turn away such girls whom she + found to be wantons. This maid, wishing to continue in her mistress’s + service and esteem, resolved to remain a virtuous woman; and although her + master often spoke to her, she on her part gave no heed to his words save + that she repeated them to her mistress, and they thus both derived much + diversion from his folly. + </p> + <p> + One day the maid was in a back room bolting meal, and wearing her “sarot,” + a kind of hood which, after the fashion of that country, not only formed a + coif but covered the whole of the back and shoulders. Her master, finding + her in this trim, came and urged her very pressingly, and, although she + would not have done such a thing even to save her life, she pretended to + consent, and asked leave to go first and see whether her mistress was + engaged in some such manner that they might not be surprised together. To + this he agreed; whereupon she begged him to put her hood upon his head and + to continue bolting whilst she was away, in order that her mistress might + still hear the noise of the bolter. And this he gladly did, in the hope of + obtaining what he sought. + </p> + <p> + The maid, who was by no means inclined to melancholy, ran off to her + mistress and said to her— + </p> + <p> + “Come and see your good husband, whom I have taught to bolt in order to be + rid of him.” + </p> + <p> + The wife made all speed to behold this new serving-woman, and when she saw + her husband with the hood upon his head and the bolter in his hands, she + began to laugh so exceedingly, clapping her hands the while, that she was + scarce able to say to him— + </p> + <p> + “How much dost want a month, wench, for thy labour?” + </p> + <p> + The husband, on hearing this voice, realised that he had been deceived, + and, throwing down both what he was holding and wearing, he ran at the + girl, calling her a thousand bad names. Had his wife not set herself in + front of the maid, he would have given her wage enough for her quarter; + but at last all was settled to the content of the parties concerned, and + thenceforward they lived together without quarrelling. (2) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 The Italian Charles, equerry to the King, to whom the + leading part is assigned in Queen Margaret’s tale, may have + been Charles de San Severino, who figures among the + equerries with a salary of 200 <i>livres</i>, in the roll of the + royal household for 1522. The San Severino family, one of + the most prominent of Naples, had attached itself to the + French cause at the time of the expedition of Charles VIII., + whom several of its members followed to France. In 1522 we + find a “Monsieur de Saint-Severin” holding the office of + first <i>maître d’hôtel</i> to Francis I., and over a course of + several years his son figures among the <i>enfants + d’honneur</i>.—B. J. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “What say you, ladies, of this wife? Was she not sensible to make sport of + her husband’s sport?” + </p> + <p> + “‘Twas no sport,” said Saffredent, “for the husband who failed in his + purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe,” said Ennasuite, “that he had more delight in laughing with + his wife, than at killing himself at his age with his serving-woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, I should be sorely vexed,” said Simontault, “to be discovered so + bravely coifed.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard,” said Parlamente, “that it was not your wife’s fault that + she did not once discover you in very much the same attire in spite of all + your craft, and that since then she has known no repose.” + </p> + <p> + “Rest content with what befalls your own house,” said Simontault, “without + inquiring into what befalls mine. Nevertheless, my wife has no reason to + complain of me, and even did I act as you say, she would never have + occasion to notice it through any lack of what she might need.” + </p> + <p> + “Virtuous women,” said Longarine, “require nothing but the love of their + husbands, which alone can satisfy them. Those who seek a brutish + satisfaction will never find it where honour enjoins.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you call it brutish,” asked Geburon, “if a wife desires that her + husband should give her her due?” + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said Longarine, “that a chaste woman, whose heart is filled with + true love, is more content to be perfectly loved than to have all the + delights that the body can desire.” + </p> + <p> + “I am of your opinion,” said Dagoucin, “but my lords here will neither + hear it nor confess it. I think if mutual love cannot satisfy a woman, her + husband alone will not do so; for unless she live in the love that is + honourable for a woman, she must be tempted by the infernal lustfulness of + brutes.” + </p> + <p> + “In truth,” said Oisille, “you remind me of a lady who was both handsome + and well wedded, but who, through not living in that honourable love, + became more carnal than swine and more cruel than lions.” + </p> + <p> + “I ask you, madam,” said Simontault, “to end the day by telling us her + story.” + </p> + <p> + “That I cannot do,” said Oisille, “and for two reasons. The first is that + it is exceedingly long; and the second, that it does not belong to our own + day. It is written indeed by an author worthy of belief; but we are sworn + to relate nothing that has been written.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Parlamente; “but I believe I know the story you mean, + and it is written in such old language that methinks no one present except + ourselves has ever heard of it. It will therefore be looked upon as new.” + </p> + <p> + Upon this the whole company begged her to tell it without fear for its + length, seeing that a full hour was yet left before vespers. So, at their + request, the Lady Oisille thus began:— + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0059" id="linkimage-0059"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/174.jpg" width="100%" alt="174.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0060" id="linkimage-0060"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/175a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="175a. The Gentleman Killing Himself on The Death of his Mistress " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Gentleman Killing Himself on the Death of his Mistress] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0061" id="linkimage-0061"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/175.jpg" width="100%" alt="175.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXX</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>The Duchess of Burgundy, not content with the love that her + husband bore her, conceived so great an affection for a + young gentleman that, when looks and glances were not + sufficient to inform him of her passion, she declared it to + him in words which led to an evil ending</i>. (1) + + 1 This story is borrowed from an old <i>fabliau</i>, known under + the title of the <i>Châtelaine de Vergy</i>, which will be found + in the <i>Recueil de Barbazan</i> (vol iv.) and in Legrand + d’Aussy’s <i>Fabliaux</i> (vol iii.). Margaret calls the lady + Madame du Vergier (literally the lady of the orchard) in her + tale. Bandello imitated the same <i>fabliau</i> in his <i>Novelle</i> + (1554; part iv. nov. v.), but gave it a different ending. + Belleforest subsequently adapted it for his <i>Histoires + Tragiques</i>. Margaret’s tale may also be compared with No. + lxii. of the <i>Cento Novelle antiche</i>, p. 84 of the edition + of Florence, 1825.—L. and M. +</pre> + <p> + In the Duchy of Burgundy there was a Duke who was a very honourable and + handsome Prince. He had married a wife whose beauty pleased him so greatly + that it kept him from knowledge of her character, and he took thought only + how he might please her, whilst she made excellent show of returning his + affection. Now the Duke had in his household a gentleman filled with all + the perfection that could be sought for in a man. He was loved by all, + more especially by the Duke, who had reared him from childhood near his + own person; and, finding him possessed of such excellent qualities, the + Duke loved him exceedingly and trusted him with all such matters as one of + his years could understand. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess, who had not the heart of a virtuous woman and Princess, and + was not content with the love that her husband bore her and the good + treatment that she had at his hands, often observed this gentleman, and so + much to her liking did she find him, that she loved him beyond measure. + This she strove unceasingly to make known to him, as well by soft and + piteous glances as by sighs and passionate looks. + </p> + <p> + But the gentleman, whose inclinations had ever been to virtue alone, could + not perceive wickedness in a lady who had so little excuse for it, and so + the glances and looks of the poor wanton bore no fruit save her own + frenzied despair. This at last drove her to extremes, and forgetting that + she was a woman fit to be entreated and yet to refuse, and a Princess made + to be worshipped by such lovers and yet to hold them in scorn, she acted + with the spirit of a man transported by passion, with a view to rid + herself of the fire which she could no longer endure. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, one day when her husband was gone to the council, at which + the gentleman by reason of his youth was not present, she beckoned him to + come to her, which he did, thinking that she had some command to give him. + But leaning on his arm, like a woman wearied with repose, she brought him + to walk in a gallery, where she said to him— + </p> + <p> + “I marvel that you who are so handsome and young, and full of excellent + grace, have lived in this company, where are so many beautiful ladies, and + yet have been lover or true knight to none.” Then, looking at him as + graciously as she was able, she waited for his reply. + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” he said, “if I were worthy that your Highness should stoop to + think of me, you would have still greater reason to marvel at seeing a man + so little worthy of love as I am, offer his service where it would be + rejected or scorned.” + </p> + <p> + On hearing this discreet reply, the Duchess felt she loved him more than + before. She vowed to him that there was not a lady at her Court who would + not be only too happy to have such a knight, and that he might well make + an adventure of the sort, since there was no danger but he would come out + of it with honour. The gentleman kept his eyes downcast, not daring to + meet her looks, which were hot enough to melt ice; but, just as he was + trying to excuse himself, the Duke sent for the Duchess to come to the + council on some matter that concerned her, and thither with much regret + she went. The gentleman never afterwards made the slightest sign of having + understood a word of what she had said to him, at which she was + exceedingly distressed and vexed; and she knew not to what cause to impute + her failure, unless it were to the foolish fear of which she deemed the + gentleman to be possessed. + </p> + <p> + A few days afterwards, finding that he gave no sign of understanding what + she had said, she resolved on her part to set aside all fear or shame, and + to tell him of her love. She felt sure that beauty such as hers could not + be otherwise than well received, although she would fain have had the + honour of being wooed. However, she set her honour on one side for her + pleasure’s sake, and after she had several times attempted the same + fashion of discourse as at first, but without receiving any reply to her + liking, she one day plucked the gentleman by the sleeve, and told him that + she must speak to him on certain matters of weight. The gentleman went + with the humility and reverence that were her due to a deep window into + which she had withdrawn; and, on perceiving that no one in the room could + see her, she began in a trembling voice, that halted between desire and + fear, to continue her former discourse, rebuking him for not yet having + chosen some lady in the company, and promising him that, no matter who it + might be, she would help him to win kindly treatment. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, who was no less vexed than astonished by her words, replied— + </p> + <p> + “Madam, my heart is so tender, that, were I once refused, I should never + again have joy in this world; and I know myself to be of such little worth + that no lady at this Court would deign to accept my suit.” + </p> + <p> + The Duchess blushed, and, imagining that at last he was indeed won, vowed + to him that she knew the most beautiful lady in the company would, if he + were willing, joyfully receive him, and afford him perfect happiness. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! madam,” he replied, “I do not think that there is any woman in this + company so unfortunate and so blind as to find me worthy of her love.” + </p> + <p> + The Duchess, finding that he would not understand her, drew the veil of + her passion somewhat aside, and, by reason of the fears which the + gentleman’s virtue caused her, spoke to him in the form of a question. + </p> + <p> + “If fortune,” she said, “had so far favoured you that it was myself who + bore you this goodwill, what would you say?” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, who thought that he was dreaming when he heard her speak in + this wise, dropped on his knee, and replied— + </p> + <p> + “Madam, when God by His favour enables me to have both the favour of the + Duke, my master, and your own, I shall deem myself the happiest man alive; + for ‘tis the reward I crave for the loyal service of one who, more than + any other, is bound to give his life in the service of you both. And I am + sure, madam, that the love you bear my Lord aforesaid is attended with + such chastity and nobleness that, apart from myself, who am but a worm of + the earth, not even the greatest Prince and most perfect man to be found + could break the union that exists between you. For my own part, my Lord + has brought me up from childhood, and made me what I am, and to save my + life I could not entertain towards any wife, daughter, sister or mother of + his any thought contrary to what is due from a loyal and faithful + servant.” + </p> + <p> + The Duchess would not allow him to continue, but finding that she was in + danger of obtaining a dishonourable refusal, she suddenly interrupted him, + and said— + </p> + <p> + “Wicked and boastful fool, who seeks any such thing from you? Do you think + that your good looks win you the love of the very flies in the air? Nay, + if you were presumptuous enough to address yourself to me, I would show + you that I love, and seek to love, none but my husband. What I have said + to you was spoken only for my amusement, to try you and laugh at you, as I + do at all foolish lovers.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said the gentleman, “I believed, and do still believe, that it is + as you say.” + </p> + <p> + Then, without listening further, she withdrew in haste to her own + apartment, and, finding that she was followed by her ladies, went into her + closet, where she sorrowed after a fashion that cannot be described. On + the one part, the love wherein she had failed caused her mortal sadness; + on the other, her anger, both against herself for having entered upon such + foolish talk and against the gentleman for his discreet reply, drove her + into such fury that at one moment she wished to make away with herself, + and at another, to live that she might avenge herself on one whom she now + regarded as her deadly enemy. + </p> + <p> + When she had wept for a long while, she made pretence of being ill, in + order that she might not be present at the Duke’s supper, at which the + gentleman was commonly in waiting. The Duke, who loved his wife better + than he did himself, came to see her; but the more effectually to work her + end, she told him that she believed herself to be with child, and that her + pregnancy had caused a rheum to come upon her eyes, which gave her much + pain. So passed two or three days, during which the Duchess kept her bed + in sadness and melancholy, until at last the Duke thought that something + further must be the matter. He therefore came at night to sleep with her; + but, finding that for all he could do he could in no sort check her sighs, + he said to her— + </p> + <p> + “You know, sweetheart, that I love you as dearly as my life, and that if + yours were lacking I could not endure my own. If therefore you would + preserve my health, I pray you tell me what causes you to sigh after this + manner; for I cannot believe that such unhappiness can come only because + you are with child.” + </p> + <p> + The Duchess, finding that her husband was disposed to her just as she + could have wished him to be, thought that the time was come to seek + vengeance for her affliction; and embracing the Duke, she began to weep, + and said— + </p> + <p> + “Alas, my lord, my greatest unhappiness is to see you deceived by those on + whom is so deep an obligation to guard your substance and your honour.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke, on hearing this, was very desirous of knowing why she spoke in + that manner, and earnestly begged her to make the truth known to him + without fear. After refusing several times, she said— + </p> + <p> + “I shall never wonder, my lord, that foreigners make war on Princes, when + those who are in duty most bound to them, wage upon them a war so cruel + that loss of territory were nothing in comparison. I say this, my lord, in + reference to a certain gentleman” (naming her enemy) “who, though reared + by your own hand and treated more like a son than a servant, has made a + cruel and base attempt to ruin the honour of your wife, in which is also + bound up the honour of your house and your children. Although for a long + time he showed me such looks as pointed to his wicked purpose, yet my + heart, which only cares for you, understood nothing of them; and so at + last he declared himself in words to which I returned a reply such as + beseemed my condition and my chastity. Nevertheless, I now so hate him + that I cannot endure to look at him, and for this cause I have continued + in my own apartment and lost the happiness of fellowship with you. I + entreat you, my lord, keep not this pestilence near your person; for, + after such a crime, he might fear lest I should tell you of it, and so + attempt worse. This, my lord, is the cause of my sorrow, and methinks it + were right and fitting that you should deal with it forthwith.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke, who on the one hand loved his wife and felt himself grievously + affronted, and on the other loved his servant, whose faithfulness he had + so fully tried that he could scarce believe this falsehood against him, + was in great distress and filled with anger. Repairing to his own room, he + sent word to the gentleman to come no more into his presence, but to + withdraw to his lodging for a time. The gentleman, being ignorant of the + cause of this, was grieved exceedingly, for he knew that he had deserved + the opposite of such unworthy treatment. Aware, then, of his own innocence + in heart and deed, he sent a comrade to speak to the Duke and take him a + letter, humbly entreating that if any evil report had caused his + banishment, his master would be pleased to suspend judgment until he had + heard from himself the truth of the matter, when it would be found that he + had been guilty of no offence. + </p> + <p> + When the Duke saw this letter, his anger was somewhat abated. He secretly + sent for the gentleman to his own room, and with wrathful countenance said— + </p> + <p> + “I could never have thought that the care I took to rear you as my own + child would be changed into regret at having so highly advanced you; but + you have attempted what was more hurtful to me than loss of life or + substance, and have sought to assail the honour of one who is half myself, + and so bring infamy on my house and name. You may be assured that this + outrage is so wounding to my heart that, were it not for my doubt whether + it be true or not, you would have already been at the bottom of the water, + and so have received in secret due punishment for the wrong that in secret + you intended against me.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman was in no wise dismayed by this discourse, but, ignorant as + he was of the truth, spoke forth with confidence and entreated the Duke to + name his accuser, since such a charge should be justified rather with the + lance than with the tongue. + </p> + <p> + “Your accuser,” said the Duke, “carries no weapon but chastity. Know, + then, that none other but my wife has told me this, and she begged me to + take vengeance upon you.” + </p> + <p> + The poor gentleman, though he then perceived the lady’s great wickedness, + would not accuse her. + </p> + <p> + “My lord,” he replied, “my lady may say what she will. You know her better + than I do, and you are aware if ever I saw her when out of your sight, + save only on one occasion, when she spoke but little with me. You have, + moreover, as sound a judgment as any Prince alive; wherefore I pray you, + my lord, judge whether you have ever seen aught in me to cause any + suspicion; and remember love is a fire that cannot be hidden so as never + to be known of by those who have had a like distemper. So I pray you, my + lord, to believe two things of me: first, that my loyalty to you is such + that were my lady, your wife, the fairest being in the world, love would + never avail to make me stain my honour and fidelity; and secondly, that + even were she not your wife, I should be least in love with her of all the + women I have ever known, since there are many others to whom I would + sooner plight my troth.” + </p> + <p> + On hearing these words of truth, the Duke began to be softened, and said— + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, on my part, that I did not believe it. Do, therefore, + according to your wont, in the assurance that, if I find the truth to be + on your side, I will love you yet better than before. But if it be not so, + your life is in my hands.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman thanked him and offered to submit to any pain or penalty if + he were found guilty. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess, on seeing the gentleman again in waiting as had formerly been + his wont, could not endure it in patience, but said to her husband— + </p> + <p> + “‘Twould be no more than you deserve, my lord, if you were poisoned, since + you put more trust in your deadly enemies than in your friends.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, sweetheart, do not torment yourself in this matter,” said the + Duke. “If I find that you have told me true, I promise you he shall not + live four and twenty hours. But he has sworn to the contrary, and I have + myself never perceived any such fault, and so I cannot believe it without + complete proof.” + </p> + <p> + “In good sooth, my lord,” she replied, “your goodness renders his + wickedness the greater. What more complete proof would you have than this, + that no love affair has ever been imputed to him? Believe me, my lord, + were it not for the lofty purpose that he took into his head of being my + lover, he would not have continued so long without a mistress; for never + did a young man live solitary as he does in such good company, unless he + had fixed his heart so high as to be content merely with his own vain + hope. Since, then, you think that he is not hiding the truth from you, put + him, I beg you, on oath as regards his love. If he loves another, I am + content that you should believe him, and if not, you will know that what I + say is true.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke thought his wife’s reasonings very good, and, taking the + gentleman into the country with him, said— + </p> + <p> + “My wife continues still of the same mind, and has set before me an + argument that causes me grave suspicion against you. It is deemed strange + that you who are so gallant and young have never been known to love, and + this makes me think that you have such affection for her as she says, and + that the hope it gives you renders you content to think of no other woman. + As a friend, therefore, I pray you, and as a master I command you to tell + me whether you are in love with any lady on earth.” + </p> + <p> + Although the gentleman would have fain concealed his passion yet as he + loved his life, he was obliged, on seeing his master’s jealousy, to swear + to him that he did indeed love one whose beauty was so great, that the + beauty of the Duchess or of any lady of the Court would be simply ugliness + beside it. But he entreated that he might never be compelled to name her, + since the agreement between himself and his sweetheart was of such a + nature that it could not be broken excepting by whichever of them should + be the first to make it known. + </p> + <p> + The Duke promised not to urge him, and being quite satisfied with him, + treated him with more kindness than ever before. The Duchess perceived + this, and set herself with her wonted craft to find out the reason. The + Duke did not hide it from her; whereupon strong jealousy sprang up beside + her desire for vengeance, and she begged her husband to command the + gentleman to name his sweetheart. She assured him that the story was a + lie, and that the course she urged was the best means of testing it. If + the gentleman, said she, did not name her whom he deemed so beautiful, and + his master believed him on his mere word, he would indeed be the most + foolish Prince alive. + </p> + <p> + The poor Duke, whose wife directed his thoughts at her pleasure, went to + walk alone with the gentleman, and told him that he was in even greater + trouble than before; for he was greatly minded to believe that he had been + given an excuse to keep him from suspecting the truth. This was a greater + torment to him than ever; and he therefore begged the gentleman, as + earnestly as he was able, to name her whom he loved so dearly. The poor + gentleman entreated that he might not be made to commit so great an + offence against his mistress as to break the promise he had given her and + had kept so long, and thus lose in a day all that he had preserved for + seven years. And he added that he would rather suffer death than in this + wise wrong one who had been true to him. + </p> + <p> + The Duke, finding that he would not tell him, became deeply jealous, and + with a wrathful countenance exclaimed— + </p> + <p> + “Well, choose one of two things: either tell me whom you love more than + any other, or else go into banishment from the territories over which I + rule, under pain of a cruel death if you be found within them after a week + is over.” + </p> + <p> + If ever heart of loyal servant was torn with anguish, it was so with that + of this poor gentleman, who might well have said, <i>Angustiæ sunt mihi + undique</i>, for on the one part he saw that by telling the truth he would + lose his mistress, if she learned that he had failed in his promise to + her; while, if he did not confess it, he would be banished from the land + in which she dwelt, and be no more able to see her. Hard pressed in this + manner on all sides, there came upon him a cold sweat, as on one whose + sorrow was bringing him near to death. The Duke, observing his looks, + concluded that he loved no other lady than the Duchess, and was enduring + this suffering because he was able to name none other. He therefore said + to him with considerable harshness— + </p> + <p> + “If what you say were true, you would not have so much trouble in telling + me; but methinks ‘tis your crime that is tormenting you.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, piqued by these words, and impelled by the love that he + bore his master, resolved to tell him the truth, believing that he was too + honourable a man ever, on any account, to reveal it. Accordingly, throwing + himself upon his knees, and clasping his hands, he said— + </p> + <p> + “My lord, the duty that I owe to you and the love that I bear you + constrain me more than the fear of any death. I can see that you imagine + and judge falsely concerning me, and, to take this trouble from you, I am + resolved to do that to which no torment had compelled me. But I pray you, + my lord, swear to me by the honour of God, and promise me by your own + faith as a Prince and a Christian, that you will never reveal the secret + which, since it so pleases you, I am obliged to tell.” + </p> + <p> + Upon this the Duke swore to him with all the oaths he could think of that + he would never reveal aught of it to any living being, whether by speech, + or writing, or feature. Then the young man, feeling confidence in so + virtuous a Prince as he knew his master to be, began the building up of + his misfortune, and said— + </p> + <p> + “It is now seven years, my lord, since knowing your niece, the Lady du + Vergier, to be a widow and without kindred, I set myself to win her + favour. But, since I was of too lowly a birth to wed her, I contented + myself with being received by her as her true knight, as indeed I have + been. And it has pleased God that the affair has hitherto been contrived + with much discretion, so that neither man nor woman knows of it save + ourselves alone, and now, my lord, you also. I place my life and honour in + your hands, entreating you to keep the matter secret and to esteem your + niece none the less; for I think that under heaven there is no more + perfect being.” + </p> + <p> + If ever man was rejoiced it was the Duke, for, knowing as he did the + exceeding beauty of his niece, he now had no doubt that she was more + pleasing than his wife. However, being unable to understand how so great a + mystery could have been contrived, he begged the gentleman to tell him how + it was that he was able to see her. The gentleman related to him then that + his lady’s chamber looked upon a garden, and that, on the days when he was + to visit her, a little gate was left open through which he went in on foot + until he heard the barking of a little dog which the lady used to loose in + the garden when all her women were withdrawn. Then he went and conversed + with her all night long, and, in parting from her, would appoint a day on + which he would return; and this appointment, unless for some weighty + reason, he never failed to keep. The Duke, who was the most inquisitive + man alive, and who had made love in no small degree in his day, wished + both to satisfy his suspicions and to fully understand so strange a + business; and he therefore begged the gentleman to take him, not as a + master but as a companion, the next time he went thither. To this the + gentleman, having gone so far already, consented, saying that he had an + appointment for that very day; at which the Duke was as glad as if he had + gained a kingdom. Making pretence of retiring to rest in his closet, he + caused two horses to be brought for himself and the gentleman, and they + travelled all night long from Argilly, where the Duke lived, to Le + Vergier. (2) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 At Argilly the Dukes of Burgundy had a castle, which was + destroyed during the religious wars at the close of the + sixteenth century. The place is now a small village in the + arrondissement of Nuits, Côte d’Or. As the crow flies, it is + some ten miles distant from the ruins of the castle of + Vergy, which stands on a steep height, at an altitude of + over 1600 ft., within five miles from Nuits. The castle, + which can only be reached on one side of the hill, by a + narrow, winding and precipitous pathway, is known to have + been in existence already in the tenth century, when the + Lords of Vergy were Counts of Chalons, Beaune, and Nuits. + They appear to have engaged in a struggle for supremacy with + the princes of the first Ducal house of Burgundy, but in + 1193 Alix de Vergy espoused Duke Eudes III., to whom she + brought, as dower, the greater part of the paternal + inheritance. The castle of Vergy was dismantled by Henry + IV., and the existing ruins are of small extent. Some + antiquaries believe the fortress to have been originally + built by the Romans.—B.J. and L. +</pre> + <p> + Then they left their horses without the wall, and the gentleman brought + the Duke into the garden through the little gate, begging him to remain + behind a walnut-tree, whence he might see whether he had been told the + truth or not. + </p> + <p> + They had been but a short time in the garden when the little dog began to + bark, and the gentleman walked towards the tower, where his lady failed + not to come and meet him. She kissed him, saying that it seemed a thousand + years since she had seen him, and then they went into the chamber and shut + the door behind them. + </p> + <p> + Having seen the whole of the mystery, the Duke felt more than satisfied. + Nor had he a great while to wait, for the gentleman told his mistress that + he must needs return sooner than was his wont, since the Duke was to go + hunting at four o’clock, and he durst not fail to attend him. + </p> + <p> + The lady, who set honour before delight, would not keep him from + fulfilling his duty; for what she prized most in their honourable + affection was that it was kept secret from all. + </p> + <p> + So the gentleman departed an hour after midnight, and his lady in cloak + and kerchief went with him, yet not so far as she wished, for, fearing + lest she should meet the Duke, he obliged her to return. Then he mounted + with the Duke and returned to the castle of Argilly, his master + unceasingly swearing to him on the way that he would die rather than ever + reveal his secret. Moreover, he then put so much trust in the gentleman, + and had so much love for him, that no one in his Court stood higher in his + favour. The Duchess grew furious at this, but the Duke forbade her ever to + speak to him about the gentleman again, saying that he now knew the truth + about him and was well pleased, since the lady in question was more worthy + of love than herself. These words deeply pierced the heart of the Duchess, + and she fell into a sickness that was worse than fever. + </p> + <p> + The Duke went to see her in order to comfort her, but there was no means + of doing this except by telling her the name of this beautiful and dearly + loved lady. She pressed him urgently to do this, until at last the Duke + went out of the room, saying— + </p> + <p> + “If you speak to me again after this fashion, we shall part one from the + other.” + </p> + <p> + These words increased the sickness of the Duchess, and she pretended that + she felt her infant stirring, at which the Duke was so rejoiced that he + came and lay beside her. But, just when she saw him most loving towards + her, she turned away, and said— + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, my lord, since you have no love for either wife or child, + leave us to die together.” + </p> + <p> + With these words she gave vent to many tears and lamentations, and the + Duke was in great fear lest she should lose her child. He therefore took + her in his arms and begged her to tell him what she would have, since he + possessed nothing that was not also hers. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my lord,” she replied, weeping, “what hope can I have that you would + do a hard thing for me, when you will not do the easiest and most + reasonable in the world, which is to name to me the mistress of the + wickedest servant you ever had? I thought that you and I had but one + heart, one soul, and one flesh. But now I see that you look upon me as a + stranger, seeing that your secrets, which should be known to me, are + hidden from me as though I were a stranger. Alas! my lord, you have told + me many weighty and secret matters, of which you have never known me to + speak, you have proved my will to be like to your own, and you cannot + doubt but that I am less myself than you. And if you have sworn never to + tell the gentleman’s secret to another, you will not break your oath in + telling it to me, for I am not and cannot be other than yourself. I have + you in my heart, I hold you in my arms, I have in my womb a child in whom + you live, and yet I may not have your heart as you have mine. The more + faithful and true I am to you, the more cruel and stern are you to me, so + that a thousand times a day do I long by a sudden death to rid my child of + such a father and myself of such a husband. And I hope that this will be + ere long, since you set a faithless servant before a wife such as 1 am to + you, and before the life of the mother of your child, which will perish + because I cannot have of you that which I most desire to know.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, she embraced and kissed her husband, and watered his face with + her tears, uttering the while such lamentations and sighs that the good + Prince feared to lose wife and child together, and resolved to tell her + all the truth of the matter. Nevertheless, he first swore to her that if + ever she revealed it to a living being she should die by his own hand; and + she agreed to and accepted this punishment. Then the poor, deceived + husband told her all that he had seen from beginning to end, and she made + show of being well pleased. In her heart she was minded very differently, + but through fear of the Duke she concealed her passion as well as she was + able. + </p> + <p> + Now on a certain great feast-day the Duke held his Court, to which he had + bidden all the ladies of that country, and among the rest his niece. When + the dances began, all did their duty save the Duchess, who, tormented by + the sight of her niece’s beauty and grace, could neither make merry nor + prevent her spleen from being perceived. At last she called all the + ladies, and making them scat themselves around her, began to talk of love; + and seeing that the Lady du Vergier said nothing, she asked her, with a + heart which jealousy was rending— + </p> + <p> + “And you, fair niece, is it possible that your beauty has found no lover + or true knight?” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” replied the Lady du Vergier, “my beauty has not yet made such a + conquest. Since my husband’s death I have sought to love none but his + children, with whom I deem myself happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Fair niece, fair niece,” replied the Duchess, with hateful spleen, “there + is no love so secret that it is not known, and no little dog so well + broken in and trained that it cannot be heard to bark.” + </p> + <p> + I leave you to imagine, ladies, what sorrow the poor Lady du Vergier felt + in her heart on finding a matter, so long concealed, thus made known to + her great dishonour. Her honour, which had been so carefully guarded and + was now wofully lost, tortured her, but still more so her suspicion that + her lover had failed in his promise to her. This she did not think he + could have done, unless it were that he loved some lady fairer than + herself, to whom his love had constrained him to make the whole matter + known. Yet so great was her discretion that she gave no sign, but replied + laughing to the Duchess that she did not understand the language of + animals. However, beneath this prudent concealment her heart was filled + with sadness, so that she rose up, and, passing out of the chamber, + entered a closet in sight of the Duke, who was walking up and down. + </p> + <p> + Having thus reached a place where she believed herself to be alone, the + poor lady let herself fall helplessly upon a bed, whereat a damsel, who + had sat down beside it to sleep, rose up and drew back the curtains to see + who this might be. Finding that it was the Lady du Vergier, who believed + herself to be alone, she durst say nothing to her, but listened, making as + little noise as she was able. And in a stifled voice the poor Lady du + Vergier began to lament, saying— + </p> + <p> + “O unhappy one, what words have I heard? to what decree of death have I + hearkened? what final sentence have I received? O best beloved of men, is + this the reward of my chaste, honourable and virtuous love? O my heart, + hast thou made so parlous an election, and chosen for the most loyal the + most faithless, for the truest the most false, for the discreetest the + most slanderous? Alas! can it be that a thing hidden from every human eye + has been revealed to the Duchess? Alas, my little dog, so well taught and + the sole instrument of my love and virtuous affection, it was not you who + betrayed me, it was he whose voice is louder than a dog’s bark, and whose + heart is more thankless than any brute’s. Tis he who, contrary to his oath + and promise, has made known the happy life which, wronging none, we so + long have led together. O my beloved, the love of whom alone has entered + into my heart, and preserved my life, must you now be declared my deadly + foe, while mine honour is given to the winds, my body to the dust, and my + soul to its everlasting abode? Is the beauty of the Duchess so exceeding + great that, like the beauty of Circe, it has bewitched and transformed + you? Has she turned you from virtue to vice, from goodness to wickedness, + from being a man to be a beast of prey? O my beloved, though you have + failed in your promise to me, yet will I keep mine to you, and, now that + our love has been revealed, will never see you more. Nevertheless, I + cannot live without your presence, and so I gladly yield to my exceeding + sorrow, and will seek for it no cure either in reason or in medicine. + Death alone shall end it, and death will be sweeter to me than life on + earth without lover, honour or happiness. Neither war nor death has robbed + me of my lover; no sin or fault of mine has robbed me of my honour; + neither error nor demerit of mine has made me lose my joy. ‘Tis cruel fate + that has rendered the most favoured of men thankless, and has caused me to + receive the contrary of that which I deserved. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my Lady Duchess, what delight it was to you to taunt me with my + little dog! Rejoice, then, in the happiness you owe to me alone; taunt her + who thought by careful concealment and virtuous love to be free from any + taunt. Ah! how those words have bruised my heart! how they have made me + blush for shame and pale for jealousy! Alas, my heart, I feel that thou + art indeed undone! The wicked love that has discovered me burns thee; + jealousy of thee and evil intent towards thee are to thee as ice and + death; while wrath and sorrow do not suffer me to comfort thee. Alas, poor + soul, that in adoring the creature didst forget the Creator, thou must + return into the hands of Him from whom vain love tore thee away. Have + trust, my soul, that thou wilt find in Him a Father kinder than was the + lover for whose sake thou hast so often forgotten Him. O my God, my + Creator, Thou who art the true and perfect love, by whose grace the love I + bore to my beloved has been stained by no blemish save that of too great + an affection, I implore Thee in mercy to receive the soul-and spirit of + one who repents that she has broken thy first and most just commandment. + And, through the merits of Him whose love passeth all understanding, + forgive the error into which excess of love has led me, for in Thee alone + do I put my perfect trust. And farewell, O my beloved, whose empty name + doth break my very heart.” + </p> + <p> + With these words she fell backward, and her face grew pallid, her lips + blue, and her extremities cold. + </p> + <p> + Just at this moment the gentleman she loved came into the hall, and, + seeing the Duchess dancing with the ladies, looked everywhere for his + sweetheart. Not finding her, he went into the chamber of the Duchess, and + there found the Duke, who was walking up and down, and who, guessing his + purpose, whispered in his ear— + </p> + <p> + “She went into that closet, and methought she was ill.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman asked whether he would be pleased to let him go in, and the + Duke begged him to do so. When he entered the closet he found the Lady du + Vergier, come to the last stage of her mortal life; whereat, throwing his + arms about her, he said— + </p> + <p> + “What is this, sweetheart? Would you leave me?” + </p> + <p> + The poor lady, hearing the voice that she knew so well, recovered a little + strength and opened her eyes to look upon him who was the cause of her + death; but at this look her love and anguish waxed so great that, with a + piteous sigh, she yielded up her soul to God. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, more dead than the dead woman herself, asked the damsel who + was there how this sickness had come upon his sweetheart, and she told him + all the words that she had heard. Then the gentleman knew that the Duke + had revealed the secret to his wife, and felt such frenzy that, whilst + embracing his sweetheart’s body, he for a long time watered it with his + tears, saying— + </p> + <p> + “O traitorous, wicked and unhappy lover that I am! why has not the + punishment of my treachery fallen upon me, and not upon her who is + innocent? Why was I not struck by a bolt from heaven on the day when my + tongue revealed the secret and virtuous love between us? Why did not the + earth open to swallow up this traitor to his troth? O tongue, mayest thou + be punished as was the tongue of the wicked rich man in hell! + </p> + <p> + “O heart, too fearful of death and banishment, mayest thou be torn + continually by eagles as was the heart of Ixion! (3) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 Queen Margaret’s memory plainly failed her here.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “Alas, sweetheart, the greatest of all the greatest woes has fallen upon + me! I thought to keep you, but I have lost you; I thought to see you for a + long time and to abide with you in sweet and honourable content, yet now I + embrace your dead body, and you passed away in sore displeasure with me, + with my heart and with my tongue. O most loyal and faithful of women, I do + confess myself the most disloyal, fickle and faithless of all men. Gladly + would I complain of the Duke in whose promise I trusted, hoping thus to + continue our happy life; but alas! I should have known that none could + keep our secret better than I kept it myself. The Duke had more reason in + telling his secret to his wife than I in telling mine to him. I accuse + none but myself of the greatest wickedness that was ever done between + lovers. I ought to have submitted to be cast into the moat as he + threatened to do with me; at least, sweetheart, you would then have lived + in widowhood and I have died a glorious death in observing the law that + true love enjoins. But through breaking it I am now in life, and you, + through perfectness of love, are dead; for your pure, clear heart could + not bear to know the wickedness of your lover. + </p> + <p> + “O my God! why didst Thou endow me with so light a love and so ignorant a + heart? Why didst thou not create me as the little dog that faithfully + served his mistress? Alas, my little friend, the joy your bark was wont to + give me is turned to deadly sorrow, now that another than we twain has + heard your voice. Yet, sweetheart, neither the love of the Duchess nor of + any living woman turned me aside, though indeed that wicked one did often + ask and entreat me. ‘Twas by my ignorance, which thought to secure our + love for ever, that I was overcome. Yet for that ignorance am I none the + less guilty; for I revealed my sweetheart’s secret and broke my promise to + her, and for this cause alone do I see her lying dead before my eyes. + Alas, sweetheart, death will to me be less cruel than to you, whose love + has ended your innocent life. Methinks it would not deign to touch my + faithless and miserable heart; for life with dishonour and the memory of + that which I have lost through guilt would be harder to bear than ten + thousand deaths. Alas, sweetheart, had any dared to slay you through + mischance or malice, I should quickly have clapped hand to sword to avenge + you; ‘tis therefore right that I should not pardon the murderer who has + caused your death by a more wicked act than any sword-thrust. Did I know a + viler executioner than myself, I would entreat him to put your traitorous + lover to death. O Love! I have offended thee from not having known how to + love, and therefore thou wilt not succour me as thou didst succour her who + kept all thy laws. ‘Tis not right that I should die after so honourable a + manner; but ‘tis well that I should die by mine own hand. I have washed + your face, sweet, with my tears, and with my tongue have craved your + forgiveness; and now it only remains for my hand to make my body like unto + yours, and send my soul whither yours will go, in the knowledge that a + virtuous and honourable love can never end, whether in this world or in + the next.” + </p> + <p> + Rising up from the body he then, like a frenzied man beside himself, drew + his dagger and with great violence stabbed himself to the heart. Then he + again took his sweetheart in his arms, kissing her with such passion that + it seemed as though he were seized rather with love than with death. + </p> + <p> + The damsel, seeing him deal himself the blow, ran to the door and called + for help. The Duke, on hearing the outcry, suspected misfortune to those + he loved, and was the first to enter the closet, where he beheld the + piteous pair. He sought to separate them, and, if it were possible, to + save the gentleman; but the latter clasped his sweetheart so fast that he + could not be taken from her until he was dead. Nevertheless he heard the + Duke speaking to him and saying—“Alas! what is the cause of this?” + To which, with a glance of fury, he replied—“My tongue, my lord, and + yours.” So saying, he died, with his face close pressed to that of his + mistress. + </p> + <p> + The Duke, wishing to know more of the matter, made the damsel tell him + what she had seen and heard; and this she did at full length, sparing + nothing. Then the Duke, finding that he was himself the cause of all this + woe, threw himself upon the two dead lovers, and, with great lamentation + and weeping, kissed both of them several times and asked their + forgiveness. And after that he rose up in fury, and drew the dagger from + the gentleman’s body; and, just as a wild boar, wounded with a spear, + rushes headlong against him that has dealt the blow, so did the Duke now + seek out her who had wounded him to the bottom of his soul. He found her + dancing in the hall, and more merry than was her wont at the thought of + the excellent vengeance she had wreaked on the Lady du Vergier. + </p> + <p> + The Duke came upon her in the midst of the dance, and said— + </p> + <p> + “You took the secret upon your life, and upon your life shall fall the + punishment.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he seized her by the head-dress and stabbed her with the dagger + in the breast. All the company were astonished, and it was thought that + the Duke was out of his mind; but, having thus worked his will, he brought + all his retainers together in the hall and told them the virtuous and + pitiful story of his niece, and the evil that his wife had wrought her. + And those who were present wept whilst they listened. + </p> + <p> + Then the Duke ordered that his wife should be buried in an abbey which he + founded partly to atone for the sin that he had committed in killing her; + and he caused a beautiful tomb to be built, in which the bodies of his + niece and the gentleman were laid together, with an epitaph setting forth + their tragic story. And the Duke undertook an expedition against the + Turks, in which God so favoured him, that he brought back both honour and + profit. On his return, he found his eldest son now able to govern his + possessions, and so left all to him, and went and became a monk in the + abbey where his wife and the two lovers were buried. And there did he + spend his old age happily with God. + </p> + <p> + “Such, ladies, is the story which you begged me to relate, and which, as I + can see from your eyes, you have not heard without compassion. It seems to + me that you should take example by it, and beware of placing your + affections upon men; for, however honourable or virtuous these affections + may be, in the end they have always an aftertaste of evil. You see how St. + Paul would not that even married people should so deeply love each other; + (4) for the more our hearts are set upon earthly things, the more remote + are they from heavenly affection, and the harder is the tie to be broken. + I therefore pray you, ladies, ask God for His Holy Spirit, who will so + fire your hearts with the love of God, that when death comes, you will not + be pained at leaving that which you love too well in this world.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 4 I <i>Corinthians</i> vii. 32-5.—M. +</pre> + <p> + “If their love,” said Geburon, “was as honourable as you describe, why was + it needful to keep it so secret?” + </p> + <p> + “Because,” said Parlamente, “the wickedness of men is so great, that they + can never believe deep love to be allied with honour, but judge men and + women to be wicked according to their own passions. Hence, if a woman has + a dear friend other than one of her nearest kinsfolk, she must speak with + him in secret if she would speak long with him; for a woman’s honour is + attacked, whether she love virtuously or viciously, since people judge + only from appearances.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Geburon, “when a secret of that kind is revealed, people think + far worse of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I grant you that,” said Longarine; “and so it is best not to love at + all.” + </p> + <p> + “We appeal from that sentence,” said Dagoucin, “for, did we believe the + ladies to be without love, we would fain be ourselves without life. I + speak of those who live but to win love: and, even if they secure it not, + yet the hope of it sustains them and prompts them to do a thousand + honourable deeds, until old age changes their fair sufferings to other + pains. But, did we think that ladies were without love, it were needful we + should turn traders instead of soldiers, and instead of winning fame, + think only of hea’ping up riches.” + </p> + <p> + “You would say, then,” said Hircan, “that, were there no women, we should + all be dastards, as though we had no courage save such as they put into + us. But I am of quite the opposite opinion, and hold that nothing weakens + a man’s courage so much as to consort with women or love them too much. + For this reason the Jews would not suffer a man to go to the war within a + year after his marriage, lest love for his wife should draw him back from + the dangers that he ought to seek.” (5) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 5 See <i>Deuteronomy</i> xx. 5, 6, 7; and the comments thereon + of Rabelais (book iii. ch. vi.).—M. +</pre> + <p> + “I consider that law,” said Saffredent, “to have been without reason, for + nothing will more readily make a man leave his home than marriage. The war + without is not harder of endurance than the war within; and I think that, + to make men desirous of going into foreign lands instead of lingering by + their hearths, it were only needful to marry them.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” said Ennasuite, “that marriage takes from them the care of + their houses; for they trust in their wives, and for their own part think + only of winning fame, feeling certain that their wives will give due heed + to the profit.” + </p> + <p> + “However that may be,” replied Saffredent, “I am glad that you are of my + opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Parlamente, “you are not discussing what is chiefly to be + considered, and that is why the gentleman, who was the cause of all the + misfortune, did not as quickly die of grief as she who was innocent.” + </p> + <p> + Nomerfide replied— + </p> + <p> + “‘Twas because women love more truly than men.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said Simontault, “‘twas because the jealousy and spitefulness of + women make them die without knowing the reason, whereas men are led by + their prudence to inquire into the truth of the matter. When this has been + learnt through their sound sense, they display their courage, as this + gentleman did; for, as soon as he understood the reason of his + sweetheart’s misfortune, he showed how truly he loved her and did not + spare his own life.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet,” said Ennasuite, “she died of true love, for her steadfast and loyal + heart could not endure to be so deceived.” + </p> + <p> + “It was her jealousy,” said Simontault, “which would not yield to reason, + so that she believed evil of her lover of which he was not guilty at all. + Moreover, her death was matter of necessity, for she could not prevent it, + whilst her lover’s death was voluntary, after he had recognised his own + wrongdoing.” + </p> + <p> + “Still,” said Nomerfide, “the love must needs be great that causes such + deep sorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Have no fear of it,” said Hircan, “for you will never die of that kind of + fever.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor,” said Nomerfide, “will you ever kill yourself after recognising your + error.” + </p> + <p> + Here Parlamente, who suspected that the dispute was being carried on at + her own expense, said, laughing— + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis enough that two persons should have died of love, without two others + fighting for the same cause. And there is the last bell sounding for + vespers, which will have us gone whether you be willing or not.” + </p> + <p> + By her advice the whole company then rose and went to hear vespers, not + forgetting in their fervent prayers the souls of those true lovers, for + whom, also, the monks, of their charity, said a <i>De profundis</i>. As + long as supper lasted there was no talk save of the Lady du Vergier, and + then, when they had spent a little time together, they withdrew to their + several apartments, and so brought to an end the Seventh Day. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0062" id="linkimage-0062"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/213.jpg" width="100%" alt="213.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + EIGHTH DAY. + </h2> + <p> + <i>On the Eighth Day relation is made<br /> of the greatest yet truest<br /> + folliesthat each<br /> can remember</i>. <a name="link2H_PROL8" + id="link2H_PROL8"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PROLOGUE. + </h2> + <p> + When morning was come they inquired whether their bridge (1) were being + well advanced, and found that it might be finished in two or three days. + These were not welcome tidings to some among the company, for they would + gladly have had the work last a longer time, so as to prolong the + happiness that they enjoyed in this pleasant mode of life. Finding, + however, that only two or three such days were left, they resolved to turn + them to account, and begged the Lady Oisille to give them their spiritual + nourishment as had been her wont. This she forthwith did, but she detained + them longer than usual, for before setting forth she desired to finish + reading the canonical writings of St. John; and so well did she acquit + herself of this, that it seemed as if the Holy Spirit in all His love and + sweetness spoke by her mouth. Glowing with this heavenly flame, they went + to hear high mass, and afterwards dined together, again speaking of the + past day, and doubting whether they could make another as fair. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 The allusion is to the bridge over the Gave spoken of in + the General Prologue (<i>ante</i>, vol. i. p. 25-6).—M. +</pre> + <p> + In order to set about it, they retired to their own rooms until it was + time to repair to their Chamber of Accounts on the Board of Green Grass, + where they found the monks already arrived and in their places. + </p> + <p> + When all were seated, the question was put, who should begin; and + Saffredent said— + </p> + <p> + “You did me the honour to have me begin on two days. Methinks we should + act wrongly towards the ladies if one of them did not also begin on two.” + </p> + <p> + “It were then needful,” said the Lady Oisille, “either that we should + continue here for a great while, or else that a gentleman and a lady of + the company should forego the beginning of a day.” + </p> + <p> + “For my part,” said Dagoucin, “had I been chosen, I would have given my + place to Saffredent.” + </p> + <p> + “And I,” said Nomerfide, “to Parlamente, for I have been so wont to serve + that I know not how to command.” + </p> + <p> + To this all agreed, and Parlamente thus began— + </p> + <p> + “Ladies, the days that are past have been filled with so many tales of + wisdom, that I would beg you to fill this one with the greatest (yet most + real) follies that we can remember. So, to lead the way, I will begin.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0063" id="linkimage-0063"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/219a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="219a. The Saddler’s Wife Cured by The Sight of Her Husband Caressing the Serving-maid " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Saddler’s Wife Cured by the sight of her Husband <br /> Caressing the + Serving-maid] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0064" id="linkimage-0064"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/219.jpg" width="100%" alt="219.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXXI</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A saddler’s wife, who was grievously sick, was made whole + and recovered the power of speech, which for the space of + two days site had lost, on seeing her husband holding his + serving-maid too familiarly on the bed whilst she herself + was drawing to her end</i>. +</pre> + <p> + In the town of Amboise there lived one Brimbaudier, (1) saddler to the + Queen of Navarre, and a man whose colour of feature showed him to be by + nature rather a servant of Bacchus than a priest of Diana. He had married + a virtuous woman who controlled his household very discreetly, and with + whom he was well content. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 Boaistuau gives the name as Bruribandier, and Gruget + transforms it into Borribaudier. M, Pifteau, after examining + the MSS., is doubtful whether Brimbaudier is the correct + reading. Bromardier, which in old French meant a tippler + (Ducange, <i>Briemardum</i>), would have been an appropriate name + for the individual referred to.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + One day it was told him that his good wife was sick and in great danger, + at which tidings he was in the greatest trouble imaginable. He went with + all speed to her aid, and found her so low, poor woman, that she had more + need of a confessor than a doctor. Thereupon he made the most pitiful + lamentation that could be, but to represent it well ‘twere needful to + speak thickly as he did, (2) and better still to paint one’s face like + his. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 Curiously enough, the transcriber of MS. No. 1520 + attempts to give some idea of the husband’s pronunciation by + transforming all his r’s into l’s. Here is an example: “Je + pelz ma povle femme, que fesai-ze, moi malhureux?... M’amie + je me meuls, je suis pis que tlepassé... je ne sçai que + faize,” &c.—L. +</pre> + <p> + When he had done all that he could for her, she asked for the cross, and + it was brought. On seeing this, the good man flung himself upon a bed in + despair, crying and saying in his thick speech— + </p> + <p> + “Ah God! I am losing my poor wife! What shall I do, unhappy man that I + am?” + </p> + <p> + After uttering many such complaints, he perceived that there was no one in + the room but a young servant-maid, passably fair and buxom, and he called + to her in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Sweetheart,” he said, “I am dying. I am more than dead to see your + mistress dying in this manner. I know not what to do or say, except that I + commend myself to you, and beg you to care for my house and my children. + Take therefore the keys from my side, and order the household, for I + myself can attend to nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + The poor girl had pity on him and comforted him, begging him not to + despair, so that, if she must lose her mistress, she might not also lose + her good master. + </p> + <p> + “Sweetheart,” he replied, “‘tis all of no avail, for I am indeed dying. + See yourself how cold my face is; bring your cheeks close to mine and warm + them.” + </p> + <p> + With this he laid his hand upon her breast. She tried to make some + difficulty, but he begged her to have no fear, since they must indeed see + each other more closely. And speaking in this wise, he took her in his + arms and threw her upon the bed. + </p> + <p> + Then his wife, whose only company was the cross and the holy water, and + who had not spoken for two days, began to cry out as loudly as her feeble + voice enabled her— + </p> + <p> + “Ah! ah! ah! I am not dead yet!” And threatening them with her hand, she + repeated—“Villain! monster! I am not dead yet!” + </p> + <p> + On hearing her voice, the husband and maid rose up, but she was in such a + rage against them that her anger consumed the catarrhal humour that had + prevented her from speaking, and she poured upon them all the abuse that + she could think of. And from that hour she began to mend, though not + without often reproaching her husband for the little love he bore her. (3) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 This story was imitated by Noël du Fail de La Hérissaye + in his <i>Contes d’Eutrapel</i> (ch. v.<i> De la Goutte</i>), where + the hero of the incident is called Glaume Esnaut de + Tremeril. “It is said,” writes Du Fail, “that the wife of + that rascal Glaume of Tremeril when at the point of death, + on seeing Glaume too familiar with her serving-woman, + recovered her senses, saying, ‘Ah! wicked man, I am not yet + so low as you thought. By God’s grace, mistress baggage, you + shall go forth at once.’” Curiously enough, the 1585 edition + of the <i>Contes d’Eutrapel</i> was printed at Rennes for Noël + Glame, virtually the same name as Glaume.—M. +</pre> + <p> + “By this you see, ladies, the hypocrisy of men, and how a little + consolation will make them forget their sorrow for their wives.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know,” said Hircan, “that he had not heard that such was the + best remedy his wife could have? Since his kindly treatment availed not to + cure her, he wished to try whether the opposite would prove any better, + and the trial was a very fortunate one. But I marvel that you who are a + woman should have shown how the constitution of your sex is brought to + amendment rather by foul means than by fair.” + </p> + <p> + “Without doubt,” said Longarine, “behaviour of that kind would make me + rise not merely from my bed, but from a grave such as that yonder.” + </p> + <p> + “And what wrong did he do her,” asked Saffre-dent, “by comforting himself + when he thought that she was dead? It is known that the marriage-tie lasts + only through life, and that when this is ended it is loosed.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Oisille, “loosed from oath and bond, but a good heart is never + loosed from love. The husband you have told us of was indeed quick to + forget his grief, since he could not wait until his wife had breathed her + last.” + </p> + <p> + “What I think strangest of all,” said Nomerfide, “is that, when death and + the cross were before his eyes, he should not have lost all desire to + offend against God.” + </p> + <p> + “A brave argument!” said Simontault. “You would therefore not be surprised + to see a man act wantonly provided he were a good distance from the church + and cemetery?” + </p> + <p> + “You may laugh at me as much as you please,” said Nomerfide; “nevertheless + the contemplation of death must greatly chill a heart, however young it + may be.” + </p> + <p> + “I should indeed be of the same opinion as yourself,” said Dagoucin, “if I + had not heard a Princess say the opposite.” + </p> + <p> + “In other words.” said Parlamente, “she told some story about it. If it be + so, I will give you my place that you may relate it to us.” + </p> + <p> + Then Dagoucin began as follows:— + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0065" id="linkimage-0065"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/224.jpg" width="100%" alt="224.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0066" id="linkimage-0066"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/225a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="225a. The Monk Conversing With The Nun While Shrouding A Dead Body " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Monk Conversing with the Nun while Shrouding a Dead Body] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0067" id="linkimage-0067"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/225.jpg" width="100%" alt="225.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXXII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>Whilst engaged in the last deed of charity, the shrouding + of a dead body, a monk did also engage with a nun in the + deeds of the flesh, and made her big with child</i>. (1) +</pre> + <p> + In one of the finest towns of France after Paris there stood an hospital + (2) richly endowed—namely, with a Prioress and fifteen or sixteen + nuns, while in another building there was a Prior and seven or eight + monks. Every day the monks said mass, but the nuns only their paternosters + and the Hours of Our Lady, for they were occupied in tending the sick. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 Gruget first printed this tale, which was not given by + Boaistuau.—L. + + 2 It is impossible to say what town and hospital Margaret + here refers to. Lyons is the scene of the latter part of the + story; and we are inclined to think that the earlier + incidents may have occurred at Dijon, where there was a + famous hospital under ecclesiastical management, founded by + Eudes III., seventh Duke of Burgundy.—L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + One day it chanced that a poor man died, and the nuns, being all assembled + with him, after giving him every remedy for his health, sent for one of + their monks to confess him. Then, finding that he was growing weaker, they + gave him the extreme unction, after which he little by little lost the + power of speech. + </p> + <p> + But as he was a long time in passing away, and it seemed that he could + still hear, the nuns continued speaking to him with the most comforting + words they knew, until at last they grew weary, and, finding that night + was come and that it was late, retired one after another to rest. Thus, to + shroud the body, there remained only one of the youngest of the nuns, with + a monk whom she feared more than the Prior or any other, by reason of the + severity that he displayed in both speech and life. + </p> + <p> + When they had duly uttered their Hours in the poor man’s ear, they + perceived that he was dead, and thereupon laid him out. Whilst engaged on + this last deed of charity, the monk began to speak of the wretchedness of + life, and the blessedness of death; and in such discourse they continued + until after midnight. + </p> + <p> + The poor girl listened attentively to the monk’s pious utterances, looking + at him the while with tears in her eyes; and so pleasing were these to him + that, whilst speaking of the life to come, he began to embrace her as + though he longed to bear her away in his arms to Paradise. + </p> + <p> + The poor girl, listening to his discourse and deeming him the most pious + of the community, ventured not to say him nay. + </p> + <p> + Perceiving this, the wicked monk, whilst still speaking of God, + accomplished with her the work which the devil suddenly put into their + hearts—for before there had been no question of such a thing. He + assured her, however, that secret sin was not imputed to men by God, and + that two persons who had no ties, could do no wrong in this manner, when + no scandal came of it; and, to avoid all scandal, he told her to be + careful to confess to none but himself. + </p> + <p> + So they parted each from the other, she going first. And as she passed + through a chapel dedicated to Our Lady, she was minded to make her prayer + as was her wont. But when she began with the words, “Mary, Virgin,” she + remembered that she had lost the title of virginity not through force or + love, but through foolish fear; and she began to weep so bitterly that it + seemed as if her heart must break. + </p> + <p> + The monk, hearing the sighing from a distance, suspected her repentance, + which might make him lose his delight, and to prevent this, he came and, + finding her prostrate before the image, began to rebuke her harshly, + telling her that if she had any scruples of conscience she should confess + herself to him, and that she need not so act again unless she desired; for + she might behave in either way without sin. The foolish nun, thinking to + make atonement to God, confessed herself to the monk; but in respect of + penance he swore to her that she did no sin in loving him, and that holy + water would suffice to wash away such a peccadillo. + </p> + <p> + Believing in him more than in God, she again some time afterwards yielded + to him, and so became big with child. At this she was in deep grief, and + entreated the Prioress to have the monk turned away from his monastery, + saying that she knew him to be so crafty that he would not fail to seduce + her. The Abbess and the Prior, who understood each other, laughed at her, + saying that she was big enough to defend herself against a man, and that + the monk she spoke of was too virtuous to do such a deed. + </p> + <p> + At last, urged by the prickings of her conscience, she craved license to + go to Rome, for she thought that, by confessing her sin at the Pope’s + feet, she might recover her virginity. This the Prior and Prioress very + readily granted her, for they were more willing that she should become a + pilgrim contrary to the rules of her order, than be shut up in the convent + with her present scruples. They feared also that in her despair she might + denounce the life that was led among them, and so gave her money for her + journey. + </p> + <p> + But God brought it to pass that when she came to Lyons, my lady the + Duchess of Alençon, afterwards Queen of Navarre, being one evening after + vespers in the roodloft of the church of St. John, whither she came + secretly to perform a novena with three or four of her women, (3) heard + someone mounting the stairway whilst she was kneeling before the crucifix. + By the light of the lamp she saw it was a nun, and in order that she might + hear her devotions, the Duchess thereupon withdrew to the corner of the + altar. The nun, who believed herself to be alone, knelt down and, beating + her breast, began weeping so sorrowfully that it was piteous to hear her; + and all the while she cried naught but this—“Alas! my God, take pity + on this poor sinner.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 See <i>ante</i>, Tale LXV., note i. +</pre> + <p> + The Duchess, wishing to learn what it meant, went up to her and said, + “Dear heart, what ails you, and whence do you come, and what brings you to + this place?” + </p> + <p> + The poor nun, who did not know her, replied, “Ah, sweet, my woe is such + that I have no help but in God; and I pray that He may bring me to speak + with the Duchess of Alençon. To her alone will I tell the matter, for I am + sure that, if it be possible, she will set it right.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear heart,” then said the Duchess, “you may speak to me as you would to + her, for I am one of her nearest friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me,” said the nun; “she alone must know my secret.” + </p> + <p> + Then the Duchess told her that she might speak freely, since she had + indeed found her whom she sought. Forthwith the poor woman threw herself + at her feet, and, after she had wept, related what you have heard + concerning her hapless fortune. The Duchess consoled her so well, that + whilst she took not from her everlasting repentance for her sin, she put + from her mind the journeying to Rome, and then sent her back to her priory + with letters to the Bishop of the place to have that shameful monk turned + away. + </p> + <p> + “I have this story from the Duchess herself, and from it you may see, + ladies, that Nomerfide’s prescription is not good for all, since these + persons fell into lewdness even while touching and laying out the dead.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Twas a device,” said Hircan, “that methinks no man ever used before, to + talk of death and engage in the deeds of life.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis no deed of life,” said Oisille, “to sin, for it is well known that + sin begets death.” + </p> + <p> + “You may be sure,” said Saffredent, “that these poor folk gave no thought + to any such theology; but just as the daughters of Lot made their father + drunk so that the human race might be preserved, so these persons wished + to repair what death had spoiled, and to replace the dead body by a new + one. I therefore can see no harm in the matter except the tears of the + poor nun, who was always weeping and always returning to the cause of her + tears.” + </p> + <p> + “I have known many of the same kind,” said Hircan, “who wept for their + sins and laughed at their pleasures both together.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I know whom you mean,” said Parlamente, “and their laughter has + lasted so great a while that ‘twere time the tears should begin.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said Hircan. “The tragedy that has begun with laughter is not + ended yet.” + </p> + <p> + “To change the subject,” said Parlamente, “it seems to me that Dagoucin + departed from our purpose. We were to tell only merry tales, and his was + very piteous.” + </p> + <p> + “You said,” replied Dagoucin, “that you would only tell of follies, and I + think that herein I have not been lacking. But, that we may hear a more + pleasant story, I give my vote to Nomerfide, in the hope that she will + make amends for my error.” + </p> + <p> + “I have indeed,” she answered, “a story ready which is worthy to follow + yours; for it speaks of monks and death. So I pray you give good heed.” + </p> + <p> + <i>Here end the Tales and Novels of the late Queen of Navarre, that is, + all that can be recovered of them</i>. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0068" id="linkimage-0068"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/232.jpg" width="100%" alt="232.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_APPE" id="link2H_APPE"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + APPENDIX. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SUPPOSED NARRATORS OF THE <i>HEPTAMERON</i> TALES. + </h2> + <p> + In his introductory essay to this translation of the <i>Heptameron</i>, + Mr. George Saintsbury has called attention to the researches of various + commentators who have laboured to identify the supposed narrators of Queen + Margaret’s tales. As it may be fairly assumed that the setting of the work + is pure invention on the Queen’s part, the researches in question can + scarcely serve any useful purpose. Still they appear to have had + considerable attraction for several erudite editors, whose opinions, + occasionally alluded to in our notes, we will here briefly summarise for + the information of those whom the matter may interest:— + </p> + <p> + OISILLE, a widow lady of long experience, is supposed by Messrs. de Lincy, + Lacroix, Génin, Frank, de Montaiglon and Miss Mary Robinson to be Louise + of Savoy. In some MSS. the name is written Osyle, the anagram of <i>Loyse</i>, + in which fashion Louise was spelt in old French. It may be pointed out, <i>en + passant</i>, that Brantôme’s grandmother, the Sénéchale of Poitou, whose + connection with the <i>Heptameron</i> is recorded, was also named Louise + (see ante, vol. i. p. lxxxii.). + </p> + <p> + PARLAMENTE, wife of Hircan, is supposed by the same commentators to be + Queen Margaret herself; this is assumed mainly because the views which + Parlamente expresses on religion, philosophy, men and women, are generally + in accord with those which the Queen is known to have professed. + </p> + <p> + HIRCAN, in M. de Lincy’s opinion, might be the Duke of Alençon, Margaret’s + first husband. Messrs. Frank and Mont-aiglon, following M. Lacroix, prefer + to identify him as Henry d’Albret, King of Navarre. They conjecture the + name of Hircan to be derived from Ilanricus, a not uncommon fashion of + spelling Henricus. It might, however, simply come from <i>hircus</i>, a + he-goat, for Hircan is a man of gross, sensual tastes. + </p> + <p> + LONGARINE, a young widow, is supposed by M. de Lincy to be Blanche de + Chastillon, <i>née</i> de Tournon (concerning whom see <i>ante</i>, vol. + i. p. 84, n. 7, and p. 120 <i>et seq</i>.; vol. iv. p. 144, n. 2; and vol. + v. p. 25, n. 2). M. Frank, however, thinks she is Aimée Motier de la + Fayette, lady of <i>Longray</i>, widow of Francis de Silly, Bailiff of + Caen, and <i>gouvernante</i> to Queen Margaret’s daughter, Jane of + Navarre. Miss Robinson shares this opinion, but M. de Montaiglon thinks + that <i>Longarine</i> would rather be Aimée Motier de la Fayette’s + daughter Frances, married to Frederic d’Almenesches, of one of the + branches of the house of Foix. + </p> + <p> + SIMONTAULT (occasionally <i>Symontaut</i>), a young knight, is thought by + M. de Lincy to be Henry d’Albret, Margaret’s second husband, who was of an + extremely amorous disposition, and much younger than herself. Messrs. + Frank and de Montaiglon, however, fancy <i>Simontault</i> to have been + Francis, Baron de Bourdeilles, father of Brantôme. It is admitted, + however, that if this be the case, it is curious that Brantôme should not + have alluded to it in any of his writings, whereas he does speak both of + his mother and of his grandmother in connection with the <i>Heptameron</i>. + </p> + <p> + ENNASUITE (occasionally <i>Ennasuitte</i> or <i>Ennasuicte</i>, and in + some MSS. <i>Emarsuite</i>), is supposed by Messrs. de Lincy, Frank, and + de Montaiglon to be Anne de Vivonne, wife of Francis de Bourdeilles and + mother of Brantôme (see ante, vol. iv. p. 144, n. 2). It is pointed out + that the name may be transformed into the three words <i>Anne et suite</i>. + </p> + <p> + DAGOUCIN, a young gentleman, is thought by M. Frank to be Nicholas Dangu + (see ante, vol. i. p. 20, n. 4, and p. 40, n. 3), who became Chancellor to + the King of Navarre. M. Lacroix, however, fancies this personage to be a + Count d’Agoust. + </p> + <p> + GEBURON, apparently an elderly man, would in M. Frank’s opinion be the + Seigneur de Burye, a captain of the Italian wars to whom Brantôme (his + cousin-german) alludes in his writings. The name of de Burye is also found + in a list of the personages present at Queen Margaret’s funeral. M. de + Montaiglon shares M. Frank’s views. + </p> + <p> + NOMERFIDE, so M. de Lincy suggests, may have been the famous Frances de + Foix, Countess of Chateaubriand; but M. Frank opines that she is a + Demoiselle de Fimarcon or Fiédmarcon (Lat. <i>Feudimarco</i>), who in 1525 + married John de Montpczat, called “Captain Carbon,” one of the exquisites + of the famous Field of the cloth of gold. Miss Robinson, however, fancies + that Nomerfide is Isabel d’Albret, sister of Margaret’s second husband, + and wife of René de Rohan. + </p> + <p> + SAFFREDENT, so M. de Lincy thinks, may be Admiral de Bonnivet; M. Frank + suggests John de Montpezat; and Miss Robinson René de Rohan, who, after + his father Peter de Rohan-Gié (husband of Rolandine, see <i>ante</i>, vol. + iii., Tale XXI, notes 2 and 15), had been killed at Pavia, was for some + years entrusted to Queen Margaret’s care. As Miss Robinson points out, <i>Saffredent</i> + literally means greedy tooth or sweet tooth. + </p> + <p> + Those who may be desirous of studying and comparing these various attempts + at identification, will find all the evidence and arguments of any value + set forth in the writings of M. Frank, M. de Montaiglon and Miss Robinson, + which are specified in the Bibliography annexed to this appendix.—Ed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_BIBL" id="link2H_BIBL"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BIBLIOGRAPHY. + </h2> + <p> + Fourteen MS. copies of the <i>Heptameron</i> are known to exist. Twelve of + these are at the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, one is at the town library + of Orleans, and one in the Vatican library. We also have some record of + four other copies which were in private libraries at the end of the last + century. + </p> + <p> + The twelve MSS. at the Bibliothèque Nationale are the following:— + </p> + <p> + I. (No. 1511 in the catalogue). A folio volume bound in red morocco, + bearing the Béthune arms. This MS. is on ruled paper, and only one leaf, + the last, is missing. + </p> + <p> + II. (No. 1512). A small folio, calf gilt, 350 leaves, from Colbert’s + library. The handwriting is that of the middle of the sixteeenth century, + and is the same throughout; the last page bearing the signature “Doulcet.” + This supplied the text followed in the present translation. + </p> + <p> + III. (No. 1513). A small folio, half-bound in red morocco, stamped with + King Louis Philippe’s monogram. It contains only twenty-eight of the + tales. + </p> + <p> + IV. (No. 1514). A large quarto, calf, from the De Mesmes library. Contains + only thirty-four of the tales. + </p> + <p> + V. (No. 1515). A small folio from Colbert’s library, bound in calf, in + Groslier’s style. The text is complete, but there are numerous interlinear + and marginal corrections and additions, in the same handwriting as MS. + VII. + </p> + <p> + VI. (Nos. 1516 to 1519). Four quarto vols., red morocco, Béthune arms. The + first prologue is deficient, as is also the last leaf of tale lxxi. + </p> + <p> + VII. (No. 1520). A folio vol., calf and red morocco, stamped with + fleurs-de-lys and the monogram of Louis XVIII. This MS. on stout ruled + paper, in a beautiful italic handwriting of the end of the sixteenth + century, is complete. Unfortunately Queen Margaret’s phraseology has been + considerably modified, though, on the other hand, the copyist has inserted + a large number of different readings, as marginal notes, which render his + work of great value. It is frequently quoted in the present translation. + </p> + <p> + VIII. (No. 1523). A folio vol., calf, from the De La Marre library. The + first two leaves are deficient, and the text ends with the fifth tale of + Day IV. + </p> + <p> + IX. (No. 1522). A small folio, bound in parchment, from the De La Marre + library. Only the tales of the first four days are complete, and on folio + 259 begins a long poem called Les Prisons, the work probably of William + Filandrier, whom Queen Margaret protected. On the first folio of the + volume is the inscription, in sixteenth-century handwriting: <i>Pour ma + sour Marie Philander</i>. The poem <i>Les Prisons</i> is quoted on pp. + xxxviii.-ix. vol. i. of the present work. It concludes with an epitaph on + Margaret, dated 1549. + </p> + <p> + X. (No. 1524). A folio vol. from Colbert’s library, bound in red and + yellow morocco, on which is painted, on a blue ground, a vine laden with + grapes twining round the trunk of a tree. On either side and in gold + letters is the device, <i>Sin e doppo la morte</i> (until and after + death). Following the title-page, on which the work is called “The + Decameron of the most high and most illustrious Princess, Madame Margaret + of France,” is a curious preface signed “Adrian de Thou,” and dated + “Paris, August 8, 1553.” This Adrian de Thou, Lord of Hierville and canon + of Notre Dame de Paris, counsellor and clerk of the Paris Parliament, was + the fourth son of Augustine de Thou and uncle to James Augustus de Thou, + the historian. He died in October 1570. His MS. of the <i>Heptameron</i>, + a most beautiful specimen of caligraphy, contains a long table of various + readings and obscure passages; this was consulted in preparing the text + for the present translation. The titles to the tales have also been + borrowed from this MS.; they were composed by De Thou himself, and figure + in no other MS. copy. + </p> + <p> + XI. (No. 1525). A small folio, calf, from Colbert’s library, very + incomplete and badly written, but containing the <i>Miroir de Jésu Crist + crucifié</i>, the last poem Queen Margaret composed (see <i>ante</i>, vol. + i. p. lxxxvi.). + </p> + <p> + XII. (No. 2155). A small quarto, red morocco, from the library of Mazarin, + whose escutcheon has been cut off. The text, which is complete and + correct, excepting that a portion of the prologue has been accidentally + transposed, is followed by an epitaph on the Queen. The handwriting + throughout is that of the end of the sixteenth century. + </p> + <p> + The other MSS. of the <i>Heptameron</i> are the following:— + </p> + <p> + XIII. (Orleans town library, No. 352). A folio vol. of 440 pp. It is + doubtful whether this MS. is of the sixteenth or seventeenth century. It + bears the title <i>L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles, &c</i>. There are + numerous deficiencies in the text. + </p> + <p> + XIV. (Vatican library, No. 929; from the library of Queen Christina of + Sweden). A folio vol., calf, 95 leaves, handwriting of the end of the + sixteenth century. This only contains fifteen of the stories. + </p> + <p> + XV. (present possessor unknown). A folio vol., red morocco; text (ending + with tale lxix. ) in sixteenth-century handwriting, with illuminated + initial letters to each tale. <i>Catalogue des livres de feue Mme. la + Comtesse de Verrue</i>, Paris, G. Martin, 1737. + </p> + <p> + XVI. (possessor unknown). MS. supposed to be the original, a large folio, + handwriting of the period, antique binding, containing the seventy-two + tales. <i>Catalogue des livres, &c., du cabinet de M. Filheul, &c.</i>, + Paris, Chardin, 1779, pp. xxi. and 280. + </p> + <p> + XVII. (possessor unknown). A folio vol., blue morocco, gilt. No. 1493 in + the catalogue of the <i>Bibliothèque de Simon Bernard, chez Barrois</i>, + Paris, 1734; and No. 213 in a <i>Catalogue de manuscrits intéressants qui + seront vendus... en la maison de M. Gueret, notaire</i>, Paris, Debure + fils jeune, 1776. + </p> + <p> + XVIII. (possessor unknown). A folio vol., blue morocco, gilt, stamped with + the arms of France, from the Randon de Boisset library; the seventy-two + tales complete, a very fine copy. <i>Catalogue des livres de la + bibliothèqzie de l’Abbé Rive</i>, Marseilles, 1793. (This MS. should not + be confounded with No. xvii. See L. J. Hubaud’s <i>Dissertation sur les + Contes de la Reine de Navarre</i>, Marseilles, 1850.) + </p> + <p> + The following are the editions of Queen Margaret’s tales issued from the + press from the sixteenth century to the present time. The list has been + prepared with great care, and we believe it to be as complete a one as can + be furnished; it includes several editions not mentioned in Brunet’s + Manual:— + </p> + <p> + I. <i>Histoires des Amans Fortunez dédiées à très illustre princesse, Mme. + Marguerite de Bourbon, etc., par Pierre Boaistuau, dit Launoy</i>, Paris, + 1558, 40. The authorisation to print and publish was accorded to Vincent + Sertenas, and the work was issued by three different booksellers; some + copies bearing the name of Gilles Robinot, others that of Jean Cavyller, + and others that of Gilles Gilles. + </p> + <p> + This, the first edition of the Queen’s work, contains only sixty-seven of + the tales, which are not divided into days or printed in their proper + sequence; the prologues, moreover, are deficient, and all the bold + passages on religious and philosophical questions, &c, in the + conversational matter following the stories, are suppressed. + </p> + <p> + II. <i>L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles de tris illustre et très excellente + Princesse Marguerite de Valois, Royne de Navarre, &c., dédié à très + illustre et très vertueuse Princesse Jeanne, Royne de Navarre, par Claude + Gruget, parisien</i>, Paris, Vincent Certena, or Jean Caveillier, 1559. + </p> + <p> + This contains all the Queen’s tales excepting Nos. xi., xliv., and xlvi., + which Gruget replaced by others, probably written by himself. The other + stories are placed in their proper order, but none of the names and + passages suppressed by Boaistuau are restored. The phraseology of the + MSS., moreover, is still further modified and polished. + </p> + <p> + The text adopted by Boaistuau and Gruget was followed, with a few + additional modifications, in all the editions issued during the later + years of the sixteenth century. Most of these are badly printed and + contain numerous typographical errors:— + </p> + <p> + III. <i>L’Heptamêron des Nouvelles, &c</i>. Reprint of Gruget’s + edition, sold by Vincent Sertenas, Gilles Robinot & Gilles Gille, and + printed by Benoist Prévost, Paris, 1560. + </p> + <p> + IV. <i>L’Heptamêron des Nouvelles, &c</i>., 1560, 16mo. (No + bookseller’s or printer’s name appears in this edition. ) + </p> + <p> + V. <i>L’Heptamêron, &c</i>. (Gruget). Guill. Rouillé, Lyons, 1561, + small 12mo; Gilles Gilles, Paris, 1561, 16mo. + </p> + <p> + VI. The same. Norment & Bruneau, and Gilles Gilles, Paris, 1567, 16mo. + </p> + <p> + VII. The same. Louys Cloquemin, Lyons, 1572, 16mo (reprinted in 1578 and + 1581). + </p> + <p> + VIII. The same. Michel de Roigny, Paris, 1574, 16mo (round letters). + </p> + <p> + IX. The same. Gab. Buon, Paris, 1581, 16mo. + </p> + <p> + X. The same. Abel L’Angelier, Paris, 1581, 18mo. + </p> + <p> + XI. The same. Jean Osmont, Rouen, 1598, 578 pp., sin. 12mo (good type). + </p> + <p> + XII. The same. Romain Beauvais, Rouen, 1598, 589 pp. 12mo. + </p> + <p> + In the seventeenth century the <i>Heptameron</i> was frequently reprinted, + Gruget’s text, with a few changes, being still followed until 1698, when + it occurred to some obscure literary man to put the tales into so-called + <i>beau langage</i>. At the same time the title of <i>Heptameron</i>, + devised by Gruget, was discarded (see post, No. XVI.). + </p> + <p> + XIII. <i>L’Heptaméron</i>, &c., printed by Ch. Chappellein, Paris, + 1607, 18mo. + </p> + <p> + XIV. The same. <i>Sur Pimprimé à Paris</i>, J. Bessin (Holland), 1615, sm. + l2mo (reprinted in 1698, 2. vols. 12mo). + </p> + <p> + XV. The same. David du Petit-Val, Rouen, 1625, 12mo. + </p> + <p> + XVI. <i>Contes et Nouvelles de Marguerite de Valois, Reine de Navarre, mis + en beau langage</i>. Gallet, Amsterdam, 1698, 2 vols, sm. 8vo. This + edition is valued not for its <i>beau langage</i>, but for the copperplate + engravings illustrating it. These are coarsely executed, and are + attributed to Roman de Hooge, but do not bear his name. A reprint of the + edition appeared at Amsterdam in 1700. + </p> + <p> + XVII. The same. Gallet, Amsterdam, 1708, 2 vols. sm. 8vo. Virtually a + reprint, but with several of the Roman de Hooge plates deficient, and + replaced by others signed Harrewyn. + </p> + <p> + XVIII. The same. La Haye (Chartres), 1733, 2 vols. sm. 12mo. + </p> + <p> + XIX. The same. Londres, 1744, 2 vols. 12mo. + </p> + <p> + XX. Heptaméron Français, ou les Nouvelles de Marguerite, Reine de Navarre; + chez la Nouvelle Société Typographique, Berne, 1780-1, 3 vols. 8vo. On + some copies the title is simply, Nouvelles de Marguerite, etc., Berne, + 1781; on others Béat Louis Walthard is designated as the publisher. + </p> + <p> + For this edition were executed the copperplate engravings, designed by + Freudenberg and Dunker, which illustrate the present translation. It was + at first intended to issue the work in parts, but after parts i. and ii. + had been published (at 4 livres each) the project was abandoned. A few + copies of these two parts are in existence; they bear the date 1778. + Freudenberg began his designs in the previous year, and finished them in + 1780. + </p> + <p> + This edition is greatly prized for its illustrations; the text, however, + largely modified by Jean Rodolphe de Sinner, is without value. The work + was reissued at Paris in 1784 (8 vols, in 8vo, some copies 18mo), at Berne + in 1792, and again in Paris in 1807 (8 vols. 18mo). + </p> + <p> + The following new editions of the <i>Heptameron</i> have appeared during + the present century:— + </p> + <p> + XXI. <i>Contes et Nouvelles de Marguerite, &c</i>. Dauthereau, Paris, + 1828, 5 vols. 32mo. (Collection des romans français et étrangers.) + </p> + <p> + XXII. <i>L’Heptamêron, ou Histoire des Amants fortunés, &c, ancien + texte publié par C. Gruget.., revu, corrigé et publié avec des notes, + &c., par le bibliophile Jacob</i>. Gosselin (Bibliothèque d’Élite), + Paris, 1841, 12mo. In this edition the Bibliophile Jacob (M. P. Lacroix) + but slightly modified Gruget’s text, and his annotation was comparatively + insignificant. His work was reproduced in a volume of the <i>Panthéon + Littéraire: Les vieux Conteurs français</i>, Paris, 1841, 1. 8vo. (double + cols.). + </p> + <p> + XXIII. <i>Heptaméron des Nouvelles de... Margtierile d’Angouléme... + publiée sur les manuscrits par la Société des Bibliophiles Français</i> + (Le Roux de Lincy, editor), Paris, 1853-4, 3 vols. sm. 18mo. + </p> + <p> + In this edition the real text of the tales was printed for the first time, + M. de Lincy having carefully examined the best MSS. for this purpose. The + present English translation is based upon his work. Copies of the + “Bibliophiles Français” edition, which contains a portrait of the Queen, a + facsimile of a miniature, and an engraving showing her arms and device, + cannot be purchased, when in fair condition, for less than £6 in Paris. + </p> + <p> + XXIV. <i>L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles, etc.... avec des notes et une notice + par P. L. Jacob, Bibliophile</i> (Paul Lacroix). Adolphe Delahays, <i>Bibliothèque + Gauloise</i>, Paris, 1858, 18mo. + </p> + <p> + In this edition M. Lacroix, following M. de Lincy’s example, went to the + MSS. for his text, which he annotated with care and erudition. All his + notes of any importance are reproduced in the present translation. The + edition of 1858 was reprinted in 1875. + </p> + <p> + XXV. <i>L’Heptaméron, &c</i>. Gamier frères, Paris, n.d., 1 vol. 18mo. + This was long the “popular” edition in France. The text, which is + considerably modernised, is of no value. + </p> + <p> + XXVI. <i>Les sept Journées de la Reine de Navarre, suivies de la huitième</i>. + Paris, Librairie des Bibliophiles (Jouaust), 1872, 4 vols. l6mo. + </p> + <p> + In this edition Gruget’s text is followed; the notes, &c, are by M. + Lacroix. The work is prized for its illustrations (a portrait and eight + etchings) by Leopold Flameng. It was originally issued in eight parts. The + value of the copies varies according to the paper on which they are + printed. Those on India or Whatman paper, with a duplicate set of the + engravings, command high prices. The text has been reissued by the same + firm in two cr. 8vo vols, under the title of <i>L’Heptaméron des contes, + etc</i>. + </p> + <p> + XXVII. <i>L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles, &c</i>, preface, notes, &c, + by Benjamin Pifteau, in the <i>Nouvelle Collection Jannet</i>, Alphonse + Lemerre, Paris, 1875, 2 vols. l6mo. + </p> + <p> + This, undoubtedly the best of all the cheap editions, has been reprinted + by Marpon & Flammarion, Paris, n.d. The text is from the MSS.; the + notes are mainly abbreviated from those of MM. de Lincy and Lacroix. M. + Pifteau supplies an introduction and glossary. + </p> + <p> + XXVIII. <i>L’Heptaméron, &c., publié avec Introduction, Notes et + Glossaire par Félix Frank</i>. Liseux, Paris, 1879, 3 vols. 12mo. + </p> + <p> + This, from the literary point of view, is one of the most important of + modern editions. The text is not taken from the same MS. as was followed + by M. de Lincy. The tales are preceded by a lengthy introduction, in which + the editor discusses Queen Margaret’s work and seeks to identify the + supposed narrators of her tales. He has frequently been quoted in the + notes to this translation. + </p> + <p> + XXIX. <i>L’Heptaméron, &c, avec notes, variantes et glossaire par F. + Dillaye et notice par A. France</i>. A. Lemerre, Paris, 1879. + </p> + <p> + A handy edition based on the MSS. The notes embody the substance of M. de + Lincy’s and M. Lacroix’s researches with additional particulars supplied + by M. Dillaye, who has been quoted in the course of the present work. + </p> + <p> + XXX. <i>L’Heptaméron, &c., publié stir les manuscrits avec les notes + de MM. Le Poux de Lincy et Anatole de Montaiglon</i>. Auguste Eudes, + Paris, 1880, 8 vols. 1. 8vo and 4 vols. cr. 8vo. + </p> + <p> + The edition in 8 vols, (two copies of which on parchment were issued at + £44 each; and twelve on Japanese paper at £20 each) is illustrated with + the Freudenberg plates; that in 4 vols, contains the text only. The text + is the same as that of No. XXIII.; but with additional notes, prefatory + matter, &c. The copyright attaching to this edition was acquired for + the present work, in which all M. de Montaiglon’s important notes are + reproduced. + </p> + <p> + Among the English translations of the <i>Heptameron</i> are the following:— + </p> + <p> + <i>Heptameron</i>, or the <i>History of the Fortunate Lovers</i>, + translated by R. Codrington, London, 1654, 12mo. (Dedicated to Thomas + Stanley, the translator of Anacreon and editor of Æschylus, and based on + Boaistuau’s defective text.) + </p> + <p> + The <i>Heptameron of Margaret, Queen of Navarre, nota first translated + from the original text, by Walter K. Kelly</i>. Bohn (extra volume), + London, 1855. This has been several times reprinted. The translation is a + very free rendering of M. de Lincy’s text; many passages are deficient. + </p> + <p> + The <i>Heptameron, &c., translated from the original French by Arthur + Machen</i>. Privately printed (G. Redway), London, 1886, 1 vol. 1. 8vo. A + scholarly translation, not annotated; illustrated with the etchings by + Flameng (see <i>ante</i>, edition xxv.). + </p> + <p> + <i>The Fortunate Lovers, twenty-seven novels of the Queen of Navarre, + translated by Arthur Machen, edited with notes and introduction by A. Mary + F. Robinson</i>. G. Redway, London, 1887, 8vo. Etched frontispiece by G. + P. Jacomb Hood. This only contains such of the tales as the lady-editor + considered unobjectionable. In her introduction she sketches the life of + Queen Margaret and discusses the identity of the supposed narrators of the + tales. Some of the notes are original, but the majority are based upon the + researches of French commentators.—Ed. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + <tbody> + <tr> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17701/17701-h/17701-h.htm">Volume + I.</a> + </td> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17702/17702-h/17702-h.htm">Volume + II.</a> + </td> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17703/17703-h/17703-h.htm">Volume + III.</a> + </td> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17704/17704-h/17704-h.htm">Volume + IV.</a> + </td> + </tr> + </tbody> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. V. +(of V.), by Margaret, Queen Of Navarre + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALES OF THE HEPTAMERON *** + +***** This file should be named 17705-h.htm or 17705-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17705/ + +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. 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(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. V. (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 #17705] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** 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 FIFTH + +LONDON: PRINTED FOR THE SOCIETY OF ENGLISH BIBLIOPHILISTS + +MDCCCXCIV + + +[Illustration: Frontispiece] + +[Margaret, Queen of Navarre, from a crayon drawing by Clouet, preserved +at the Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris] + +[Illustration: Titlepage] + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME V. + +SIXTH DAY. + + + +Prologue + +Tale LI. Cruelty of the Duke of Urbino, who, contrary to the promise +he had given to the Duchess, hanged a poor lady that had consented to +convey letters to his son's sweetheart, the sister of the Abbot of Farse. + +Tale LII. Merry trick played by the varlet of an apothecary at Alencon +on the Lord de la Tireliere and the lawyer Anthony Bachere, who, +thinking to breakfast at his expense, find that they have stolen from +him something very different to a loaf of sugar. + +Tale LIII. Story of the Lady of Neufchatel, a widow at the Court of +Francis I., who, through not admitting that she has plighted her troth +to the Lord des Cheriots, plays him an evil trick through the means of +the Prince of Belhoste. + +Tale LIV. Merry adventure of a serving-woman and a gentleman named +Thogas, whereof his wife has no suspicion. + +Tale LV. The widow of a merchant of Saragossa, not wishing to lose the +value of a horse, the price of which her husband had ordered to be given +to the poor, devises the plan of selling the horse for one ducat only, +adding, however, to the bargain a cat at ninety-nine. + +Tale LVI. Notable deception practised by an old Grey Friar of Padua, +who, being charged by a widow to find a husband for her daughter, did, +for the sake of getting the dowry, cause her to marry a young Grey +Friar, his comrade, whose condition, however, was before long discovered. + +Tale LVII. Singular behaviour of an English lord, who is content merely +to keep and wear upon his doublet the glove of a lady whom he loves. + +Tale LVIII. A lady at the Court of Francis I., wishing to prove that +she has no commerce with a certain gentleman who loves her, gives him a +pretended tryst and causes him to pass for a thief. + +Tale LIX. Story of the same lady, who, learning that her husband is in +love with her waiting-woman, contrives to surprise him and impose her +own terms upon him. + +Tale LX. A man of Paris, thinking his wife to be well and duly deceased, +marries again, but at the end of fifteen years is forced to take his +first wife back, although she has been living meantime with one of the +chanters of Louis XII. + + +SEVENTH DAY. + +Prologue + +Tale LXI. Great kindness of a husband, who consents to take back his +wife twice over, spite of her wanton love for a Canon of Autun. + +Tale LXII. How a lady, while telling a story as of another, let her +tongue trip in such a way as to show that what she related had happened +to herself. + +Tale LXIII. How the honourable behaviour of a young lord, who feigns +sickness in order to be faithful to his wife, spoils a party in which he +was to have made one with the King, and in this way saves the honour of +three maidens of Paris. + +Tale LXIV. Story of a gentleman of Valencia in Spain, whom a lady drove +to such despair that he became a monk, and whom afterwards she strove in +vain to win back to herself. + +Tale LXV. Merry mistake of a worthy woman, who in the church of St. John +of Lyons mistakes a sleeping soldier for one of the statues on a tomb, +and sets a lighted candle on his forehead. + +Tale LXVI. How an old serving-woman, thinking to surprise a Prothonotary +with a lady, finds herself insulting Anthony de Bourbon and his wife +Jane d'Albret. + +Tale LXVII. How the Sire de Robertval, granting a traitor his life at +the prayers of the man's wife, set them both down on a desert island, +and how, after the husband's death, the wife was rescued and brought +back to La Rochelle. + +Tale LXVIII. The wife of an apothecary at Pau, hearing her husband give +some powder of cantharides to a woman who was godmother with himself, +secretly administered to him such a dose of the same drug that he nearly +died. + +Tale LXIX. How the wife of one of the King's Equerries surprised her +husband muffled in the hood of their servant-maid, and bolting meal in +her stead. + +Tale LXX. Of the love of a Duchess of Burgundy for a gentleman who +rejects her advances, for which reason she accuses him to the Duke her +husband, and the latter does not believe his oaths till assured by +him that he loves the Lady du Vergier. Then the Duchess, having drawn +knowledge of this amour from her husband, addresses to the Lady du +Vergier in public, an allusion that causes the death of both lovers; and +the Duke, in despair at his own lack of discretion, stabs the Duchess +himself. + + +EIGHTH DAY. + +Prologue + +Tale LXXI. The wife of a saddler of Amboise is saved on her deathbed +through a fit of anger at seeing her husband fondle a servant-maid. + +Tale LXXII. Kindness of the Duchess of Alencon to a poor nun whom she +meets at Lyons, on her way to Rome, there to confess to the Pope how a +monk had wronged her, and to obtain his Holiness's pardon. + +Appendix (The Narrators of the Heptameron) + +Bibliography + + + + +PAGE ENGRAVINGS CONTAINED IN VOLUME V. + + +Tale LI. The Duke of Urbino sending the Maiden to Prison for carrying +Messages between his Son and his Sweetheart. + +LII. The Gentleman and his Friend annoyed by The Smell of that which +they Thought was Sugar. + +LIII. The Lord des Cheriots flying from the Prince's Servant. + +LIV. The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing. + +LV. The Servant selling the Horse with the Cat. + +LVI. The Grey Friar introducing his Comrade to the Lady and her +Daughter. + +LVII. The English Lord seizing the Lady's Glove. + +LVIII. The Gentleman Mocked by the Ladies When Returning From The False +Tryst. + +LIX. The Lady discovering her Husband with the Waiting-woman. + +LX. The Chanter of Blois delivering his Mistress from the Grave. + +LXI. The Lady returning to her Lover, the Canon of Autun. + +LXII. The Gentleman's Spur catching in the Sheet. + +LXIII. The King asking the Young Lord to join his Banquet. + +LXIV. The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of Valencia who had +become a Monk. + +LXV. The Old Woman startled by the Waking of the Soldier. + +LXVI. The Old Serving-woman explaining her Mistake to the Duke and +Duchess of Vendome. + +LXVII. The Wife Reading to her Husband on the Desert Island. + +LXVIII. The Apothecary's Wife giving the Dose of Cantharides to her +Husband. + +LXIX. The Wife discovering her Husband in the Hood of their +Serving-maid. + +LXX. The Gentleman Killing Himself on the Death of his Mistress. + +LXXI. The Saddler's Wife Cured by the sight of her Husband Caressing the +Serving-maid. + +LXXII. The Monk Conversing with the Nun while Shrouding a Dead Body. + + + + +SIXTH DAY. + +_On the Sixth Day are related the deceits practised +by Man on Woman, Woman on Man, or +Woman on Woman, through +greed, revenge, and +wickedness_. + + + + +PROLOGUE. + +In the morning the Lady Oisille went earlier than was her wont to make +ready for her reading in the hall, but the company being advised of +this, and eager to hearken to her excellent instruction, used such +despatch in dressing themselves that she had not long to wait. +Perceiving their fervour, she set about reading them the Epistle of St. +John the Evangelist, which is full of naught but love, in the same wise +as, on the foregoing days, she had expounded to them St. Paul's Epistle +to the Romans. The company found this fare so much to their taste, that, +although they tarried a half-hour longer than on the other days, it +seemed to them as if they had not remained there a quarter of an hour +altogether. From thence they proceeded to the contemplation of the mass, +when one and all commended themselves to the Holy Ghost in order that +they might that day be enabled to satisfy their merry audience; and, +after they had broken their fast and taken a little rest, they set out +to resume their accustomed diversion. + +And the Lady Oisille asking who should begin the day, Longarine made +answer-- + +"I give my vote to Madame Oisille; she has this day read to us so +beauteous a lesson, that she can but tell us some story apt to crown the +glory which she won this morning." + +"I am sorry," said Oisille, "that I cannot tell you aught so profitable +this afternoon as I did in the morning. But at least the purport of my +story shall not depart from the teaching of Holy Scripture, where it is +written, 'Trust not in princes, nor in the sons of men, in whom is not +our salvation.' (1) And that this truth may not be forgotten by you for +lack of an example, I will tell you a tale which is quite true, and the +memory of which is so fresh that the eyes of those that saw the piteous +sight are scarcely yet dried." + +[Illustration: 005a.jpg The Duke of Urbino sending the Maiden to Prison for carrying +Messages between his Son and his Sweetheart] + +[The Duke of Urbino sending the Maiden to Prison for carrying +Messages between his Son and his Sweetheart] + +[Illustration: 005.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LI_. + + _Because he would not have his son make a poor marriage, the + Duke of Urbino, contrary to the promise given to his wife, + hanged a young maiden by whom his son was wont to inform his + sweetheart of the love he bore her_. + +The Duke of Urbino, called the Prefect, (1) the same that married the +sister of the first Duke of Mantua, had a son of between eighteen and +twenty years of age, who was in love with a girl of an excellent and +honourable house, sister to the Abbot of Farse. (2) And since, according +to the custom of the country, he was not free to converse with her as +he wished, he obtained the aid of a gentleman in his service, who was in +love with a very beautiful and virtuous young damsel in the service of +his mother. By means of this damsel he informed his sweetheart of the +deep affection that he bore her; and the poor girl, thinking no harm, +took pleasure in doing him service, believing his purpose to be so good +and virtuous that she might honourably be the carrier of his intentions. +But the Duke, who had more regard for the profit of his house than +for any virtuous affection, was in such great fear lest these dealings +should lead his son (3) into marriage, that he caused a strict watch +to be kept; whereupon he was informed that the poor damsel had been +concerned in carrying some letters from his son to the lady he loved. On +hearing this he was in great wrath, and resolved to take the matter in +hand. + + 1 This is Francesco Maria I., della Rovere, nephew to Pope + Julius II., by whom he was created Prefect of Rome. Brought + up at the French Court, he became one of the great captains + of the period, especially distinguishing himself in the + command of the Venetian forces during the earlier part of + his career. He married Leonora Ypolita Gonzaga, daughter of + Francesco II., fourth Marquis of Mantua, respecting whom see + _ante_, vol. iii., notes to Tale XIX. It was Leonora rather + than her husband who imparted lustre to the Court of Urbino + at this period by encouraging arts and letters. Among those + who flourished there were Raffaelle and Baldassare + Castiglione. Francesco Maria, born in March 1491, died in + 1538 from the effects--so it is asserted by several + contemporary writers--of a poisonous lotion which a Mantuan + barber had dropped into his ear. His wife, who bore him two + sons (see post, note 3), died at the age of 72, in 1570.--L. + and Ed. + + 2 The French words are _Abbe de Farse_. Farse would appear + to be a locality, as abbots were then usually designated by + the names of their monasteries; still it may be intended for + the Abbot's surname, and some commentators, adopting this + view, have suggested that the proper reading would be + Farnese.--Ed. + + 3 The Duke's two sons were Federigo, born in March 1511, + and Guidobaldo, born in April 1514. The former according to + all authorities died when "young," and probably long before + reaching man's estate. Dennistoun, in his searching _Memoirs + of the Dukes of Urbino_ (London, 1851), clearly shows that + for many years prior to Francesco Maria's death his second + son Guidobaldo was the only child remaining to him. Already + in 1534, when but twenty years old, Guidobaldo was regarded + as his father's sole heir and successor. In that year + Francesco Maria forced the young man to marry Giulia Varana, + a child of eleven, in order that he might lay claim to her + father's state of Camerino and annex it to the duchy. There + is no record of Guidobaldo having ever engaged in any such + intrigue as related by Queen Margaret in the above tale, + still it must be to him that she refers, everything pointing + to the conclusion that his brother Federigo died in + childhood. Guidobaldo became Duke of Urbino on his father's + death.--Ed. + +He could not, however, conceal his anger so well that the maiden was +not advised of it, and knowing his wickedness, which was in her eyes +as great as his conscience was small, she felt a wondrous dread. Going +therefore to the Duchess, she craved leave to retire somewhere out of +the Duke's sight until his passion should be past; but her mistress +replied that, before giving her leave to do so, she would try to find +out her husband's will in the matter. + +Very soon, however, the Duchess heard the Duke's evil words concerning +the affair, and, knowing his temper, she not only gave the maiden leave, +but advised her to retire into a convent until the storm was over. This +she did as secretly as she could, yet not so stealthily but that the +Duke was advised of it. Thereupon, with pretended cheerfulness of +countenance, he asked his wife where the maiden was, and she, believing +him to be well aware of the truth, confessed it to him. He feigned to +be vexed thereat, saying that the girl had no need to behave in that +fashion, and that for his part he desired her no harm. And he requested +his wife to cause her to come back again, since it was by no means well +to have such matters noised abroad. + +The Duchess replied that, if the poor girl was so unfortunate as to have +lost his favour, it were better for a time that she should not come +into his presence; however, he would not hearken to her reasonings, but +commanded her to bid the maiden return. + +The Duchess failed not to make the Duke's will known to the maiden; but +the latter, who could not but feel afraid, entreated her mistress that +she might not be compelled to run this risk, saying that she knew the +Duke was not so ready to forgive her as he feigned to be. Nevertheless, +the Duchess assured her that she should take no hurt, and pledged her +own life and honour for her safety. + +The girl, who well knew that her mistress loved her, and would not +lightly deceive her, trusted in her promise, believing that the Duke +would never break a pledge when his wife's honour was its warranty. And +accordingly she returned to the Duchess. + +As soon as the Duke knew this, he failed not to repair to his wife's +apartment. There, as soon as he saw the maiden, he said to his wife, +"So such-a-one has returned," and turning to his gentlemen, he commanded +them to arrest her and lead her to prison. + +At this the poor Duchess, who by the pledging of her word had drawn the +maiden from her refuge, was in such despair that, falling upon her knees +before her husband, she prayed that for love of herself and of his +house he would not do so foul a deed, seeing that it was in obedience to +himself that she had drawn the maiden from her place of safety. + +But no prayer that she could utter availed to soften his hard heart, or +to overcome his stern resolve to be avenged. Without making any reply, +he withdrew as speedily as possible, and, foregoing all manner of trial, +and forgetting God and the honour of his house, he cruelly caused the +hapless maiden to be hanged. + +I cannot undertake to recount to you the grief of the Duchess; it was +such as beseemed a lady of honour and a tender heart on beholding one, +whom she would fain have saved, perish through trust in her own plighted +faith. Still less is it possible to describe the deep affliction of the +unhappy gentleman, the maiden's lover, who failed not to do all that +in him lay to save his sweetheart's life, offering to give his own for +hers; but no feeling of pity moved the heart of this Duke, whose only +happiness was that of avenging himself on those whom he hated. (4) + + 4 That Francesco-Maria was a man of a hasty, violent + temperament is certain. Much that Guicciardini relates of + him was doubtless penned in a spirit of resentment, for + during the time the historian lived at Urbino the Duke + repeatedly struck him, and on one occasion felled him to the + ground, with the sneering remark, "Your business is to + confer with pedants." On the other hand, however, there is + independent documentary evidence in existence--notably + among the Urbino MSS. in the Vatican library--which shows + that Francesco-Maria in no wise recoiled from shedding + blood. He was yet in his teens when it was reported to him + that his sister--the widow of Venanzio of Camerino, killed + by Caesar Borgia--had secretly married a certain Giovanni + Andrea of Verona and borne him a son. Watching his + opportunity, Francesco-Maria set upon the unfortunate Andrea + one day in the ducal chamber and then and there killed him, + though not without resistance, for Andrea only succumbed + after receiving _four-and-twenty_ stabs with his murderer's + poignard (Urbino MSS. Vat. No. 904). A few years later, in + 1511, Francesco-Maria assassinated the Papal Legate + Alidosio, Cardinal Archbishop of Pavia, whom he encountered + in the environs of Bologna riding his mule and followed by a + hundred light horse. Nevertheless Urbino, with only a small + retinue, galloped up to him, plunged a dagger into his + stomach and fled before the soldiery could intervene. From + these examples it will be seen that, although history has + preserved no record of the affair related by Queen Margaret, + her narrative may well be a true one.--Ed. + +Thus, in spite of every law of honour, was the innocent maiden put to +death by this cruel Duke, to the exceeding sorrow of all that knew her. + +"See, ladies, what are the effects of wickedness when this is combined +with power." + +"I had indeed heard," said Longarine, "that the Italians were prone to +three especial vices; but I should not have thought that vengeance and +cruelty would have gone so far as to deal a cruel death for so slight a +cause." + +"Longarine," said Saffredent, laughing, "you have told us one of the +three vices, but we must also know the other two." + +"If you did not know them," she replied, "I would inform you, but I am +sure that you know them all." + +"From your words," said Saffredent, "it seems that you deem me very +vicious." + +"Not so," said Longarine, "but you so well know the ugliness of vice +that, better than any other, you are able to avoid it." + +"Do not be amazed," said Simontault, "at this act of cruelty. Those who +have passed through Italy have seen such incredible instances, that this +one is in comparison but a trifling peccadillo." + +"Ay, truly," said Geburon. "When Rivolta was taken by the French, (5) +there was an Italian captain who was esteemed a knightly comrade, but +on seeing the dead body of a man who was only his enemy in that being a +Guelph he was opposed to the Ghibellines, he tore out his heart, broiled +it on the coals and devoured it. And when some asked him how he liked +it, he replied that he had never eaten so savoury or dainty a morsel. +Not content with this fine deed, he killed the dead man's wife, and +tearing out the fruit of her womb, dashed it against a wall. Then he +filled the bodies both of husband and wife with oats and made his horses +eat from them. Think you that such a man as that would not surely have +put to death a girl whom he suspected of offending him?" + + 5 Rivolta or Rivoli was captured by the French under Louis + XII. in 1509. An instance of savagery identical in character + with that mentioned by "Geburon" had already occurred at the + time of Charles VIII.'s expedition to Naples, when the + culprit, a young Italian of good birth, was seized and + publicly executed.--Ed. + +"It must be acknowledged," said Ennasuite, "that this Duke of Urbino +was more afraid that his son might make a poor marriage than desirous of +giving him a wife to his liking." + +"I think you can have no doubt," replied Simon-tault, "that it is the +Italian nature to love unnaturally that which has been created only for +nature's service." + +"Worse than that," said Hircan, "they make a god of things that are +contrary to nature." + +"And there," said Longarine, "you have another one of the sins that +I meant; for we know that to love money, excepting so far as it be +necessary, is idolatry." + +Parlamente then said that St. Paul had not forgotten the vices of the +Italians, and of all those who believe that they exceed and surpass +others in honour, prudence and human reason, and who trust so strongly +to this last as to withhold from God the glory that is His due. +Wherefore the Almighty, jealous of His honour, renders' those who +believe themselves possessed of more understanding than other men, +more insensate even than wild the beasts, causing them to show by their +unnatural deeds that their sense is reprobate. + +Longarine here interrupted Parlamente to say that this was indeed the +third sin to which the Italians were prone. + +"By my faith," said Nomerfide, "this discourse is very pleasing to +me, for, since those that possess the best trained and acutest +understandings are punished by being made more witless even than wild +beasts, it must follow that such as are humble, and low, and of little +reach, like myself, are filled with the wisdom of angels." + +"I protest to you," said Oisille, "that I am not far from your opinion, +for none is more ignorant than he who thinks he knows." + +"I have never seen a mocker," said Geburon, "that was not mocked, a +deceiver that was not deceived, or a boaster that was not humbled." + +"You remind me," said Simontault, "of a deceit which, had it been of a +seemly sort, I would willingly have related." + +"Well," said Oisille, "since we are here to utter truth, I give you my +vote that you may tell it to us whatsoever its nature may be." + +"Since you give place to me," said Simontault, "I will tell it you." + + +[Illustration: 014.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 015a.jpg The Gentleman and his Friend annoyed by The Smell of that which they Thought was Sugar] + +[The Gentleman and his Friend annoyed by The Smell of that which they Thought was Sugar] + +[Illustration: 015.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LII_. + + _An apothecary s man, espying behind him an advocate who was + to plague him, and on whom he desired to be revenged, + dropped from his sleeve a lump of frozen ordure, wrapped in + paper like a sugar-loaf, which a gentleman who was with the + advocate picked up and hid in his bosom, and then went to + breakfast at a tavern, whence he came forth with all the + cost and shame that he had thought to bring upon the poor + varlet_. + +Near the town of Alencon there lived a gentleman called the Lord of La +Tireliere, who one morning came from his house to the town afoot, both +because the distance was not great and because it was freezing hard. (1) +When he had done his business, he sought out a crony of his, an advocate +named Anthony Bachere, and, after speaking with him of his affairs, he +told him that he should much like to meet with a good breakfast, but at +somebody else's expense. While thus discussing, they sat themselves down +in front of an apothecary's shop, where there was a varlet who listened +to them, and who forthwith resolved to give them their breakfast. + + 1 The phraseology of this story varies considerably in the + different MSS. of the _Heptameron_. In No. 1520, for + instance, the tale begins as follows: "In the town of + Alencon, in the time of the last Duke Charles, there was an + advocate, a merry companion, fond of breakfasting o' + mornings. One day, whilst he sat at his door, he saw pass a + gentleman called the Lord of La Tilleriere, who, by reason + of the extreme cold, had come on foot from his house to the + town in order to attend to certain business there, and in + doing so had not forgotten to put on his great robe, lined + with fox-skin. And when he saw the advocate, who was much + such a man as himself, he told him that he had completed his + business, and had nothing further to do, except it were to + find a good breakfast. The advocate made answer that they + could find breakfasts enough and to spare, provided they had + some one to defray the cost, and, taking the other under the + arm, he said to him, 'Come, gossip, we may perhaps find some + fool who will pay the reckoning for us both.' Now behind + them was an apothecary's man, an artful and inventive + fellow, whom this advocate was always plaguing," &c.--L. + +He went out from his shop into a street whither all repaired on needful +occasions, (2) and there found a large lump of ordure standing on end, +and so well frozen that it looked like a small loaf of fine sugar. +Forthwith he wrapped it in handsome white paper, in the manner he was +wont to use for the attraction of customers, and hid it in his sleeve. + + 2 In olden time, as shown in the _Memoires de l'Academie de + Troyes_, there were in most French towns streets specially + set aside for the purpose referred to. At Alencon, in Queen + Margaret's time, there was a street called the Rue des + Fumiers, as appears from a report dated March 8, 1564 + (Archives of the Orne, Series A). Probably it is to this + street that she alludes. (Communicated by M. L. Duval, + archivist of the department of the Orne).--M. + +Afterwards he came and passed in front of the gentleman and the +advocate, and, letting the sugar-loaf (3) fall near them, as if by +mischance, went into a house whither he had pretended to be carrying it. + +The Lord of La Tireliere (4) hastened back with all speed to pick up +what he thought to be a sugar-loaf, and just as he had done so the +apothecary's man also came back looking and asking for his sugar +everywhere. + + 3 M. Duval, archivist of the Orne, states that La + Tireliere, which is situated near St. Germain-du-Corbois, + within three miles of Alencon, is an old _gentilhommiere_ or + manor-house, surrounded by a moat. It was originally a + simple _vavassonrie_ held in fief from the Counts and Dukes + of Alencon by the Pantolf and Crouches families, and in the + seventeenth century was merged into the marquisate of + L'Isle.--M. + + 4 Sugar was at this period sold by apothecaries, and was a + rare and costly luxury. There were loaves of various sizes, + but none so large as those of the present time.--M. + +The gentleman, thinking that he had cleverly tricked him, then went in +haste to a tavern with his crony, to whom he said-- + +"Our breakfast has been paid for at the cost of that varlet." + +When he was come to the tavern he called for good bread, good wine and +good meat, for he thought that he had wherewith to pay. But whilst he +was eating, as he began to grow warm, his sugar-loaf in its turn began +to thaw and melt, and filled the whole room with the smell peculiar +to it, whereupon he, who carried it in his bosom, grew wroth with the +waiting-woman, and said to her-- + +"You are the filthiest folks that ever I knew in this town, for either +you or your children have strewn all this room with filth." + +"By St. Peter!" replied the woman, "there is no filth here unless you +have brought it in yourselves." + +Thereupon they rose, by reason of the great stench that they smelt, +and went up to the fire, where the gentleman drew out of his bosom a +handkerchief all dyed with the melted sugar, and on opening his robe, +lined with fox-skin, found it to be quite spoiled. + +And all that he was able to say to his crony was this-- + +"The rogue whom we thought to deceive has deceived us instead." + +Then they paid their reckoning and went away as vexed as they had +been merry on their arrival, when they fancied they had tricked the +apothecary's varlet. (5) + + 5 In MS. 1520, this tale ends in the following manner:-- + "They were no sooner in the street than they perceived the + apothecary's man going about and making inquiry of every one + whether they had not seen a loaf of sugar wrapped in paper. + They [the advocate and his companion] sought to avoid him, + but he called aloud to the advocate, 'If you have my loaf of + sugar, sir, I beg that you will give it back to me, for 'tis + a double sin to rob a poor servant.' His shouts brought to + the spot many people curious to witness the dispute, and the + true circumstances of the case were so well proven, that the + apothecary's man was as glad to have been robbed as the + others were vexed at having committed such a nasty theft. + However, they comforted themselves with the hope that they + might some day give him tit for tat."--Ed. + +"Often, ladies, do we see the like befall those who delight in using +such cunning. If the gentleman had not sought to eat at another's +expense, he would not have drunk so vile a beverage at his own. It is +true, ladies, that my story is not a very clean one, but you gave me +license to speak the truth, and I have done so in order to show you that +no one is sorry when a deceiver is deceived." + +"It is commonly said," replied Hircan, "that words have no stink, yet +those for whom they are intended do not easily escape smelling them." + +"It is true," said Oisille, "that such words do not stink, but there are +others which are spoken of as nasty, and which are of such evil odour +that they disgust the soul even more than the body is disgusted when it +smells such a sugar-loaf as you described in the tale." + +"I pray you," said Hircan, "tell me what words you know of so foul as to +sicken both the heart and soul of a virtuous woman." + +"It would indeed be seemly," replied Oisille, "that I should tell you +words which I counsel no woman to utter." + +"By that," said Saffredent, "I quite understand what those terms are. +They are such as women desirous of being held discreet do not commonly +employ. But I would ask all the ladies present why, when they dare not +utter them, they are so ready to laugh at them when they are used in +their presence." + +Then said Parlamente-- + +"We do not laugh because we hear such pretty expressions, though it +is indeed true that every one is disposed to laugh on seeing anybody +stumble or on hearing any one utter an unfitting word, as often happens. +The tongue will trip and cause one word to be used for another, even +by the discreetest and most excellent speakers. But when you men talk +viciously, not from ignorance, but by reason of your own wickedness, +I know of no virtuous woman who does not feel a loathing for such +speakers, and who would not merely refuse to hearken to them, but even +to remain in their company." + +"That is very true," responded Geburon. "I have frequently seen women +make the sign of the cross on hearing certain words spoken, and cease +not in doing so after these words had been uttered a second time." + +"But how many times," said Simontault, "have they put on their masks (6) +in order to laugh as freely as they pretended to be angry?" + +"Yet it were better to do this," said Parlamente, "than to let it be +seen that the talk pleased them." + +"Then," said Dagoucin, "you praise a lady's hypocrisy no less than her +virtue?" + +"Virtue would be far better," said Longarine, "but, when it is lacking, +recourse must be had to hypocrisy, just as we use our slippers (7) to +disguise our littleness. And it is no small matter to be able to conceal +our imperfections." + + 8 _Tourets-de-nez_. _See ante_, vol. iii. p. 27, note 5.--Ed. + + 7 High-heeled slippers or _mules_ were then worn.--B. J. + +"By my word," said Hircan, "it were better sometimes to show some slight +imperfection than to cover it so closely with the cloak of virtue." + +"It is true," said Ennasuitc, "that a borrowed garment brings the +borrower as much dishonour when he is constrained to return it as it +brought him honour whilst it was being worn, and there is a lady now +living who, by being too eager to conceal a small error, fell into a +greater." + +"I think," said Hircan, "that I know whom you mean; in any case, +however, do not pronounce her name." + +"Ho! ho!" said Geburon [to Ennasuite], "I give you my vote on condition +that when you have related the story you will tell us the names. We will +swear never to mention them." + +"I promise it," said Knnasuite, "for there is nothing that may not be +told in all honour." + + +[Illustration: 022.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 023a.jpg The Lord des Cheriots flying from the Prince's Servant] + +[The Lord des Cheriots flying from the Prince's Servant] + +[Illustration: 023.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LIII_. + + _By her dissimulation the Lady of Neufchastel caused the + Prince of Belhoste to put her to such proof that it turned + to her dishonour_. + +King Francis the First was once at a handsome and pleasant castle, +whither he had gone with a small following, both for the purpose of +hunting and in order to take some repose. With him in his train was a +certain Prince of Belhoste, (1) as worshipful, virtuous, discreet and +handsome a Prince as any at Court. The wife he had married did not +belong to a family of high rank, yet he loved her as dearly and treated +her as well as it were possible for a husband to do, and also trusted +in her. And when he was in love with anybody he never concealed it from +her, knowing that she had no other will than his own. + + 1 The Bibliophile Jacob surmises that this personage may be + one of the Italian grandees at that period in the service of + France, in which case the allusion may be to John + Caraccioli, Prince of Melphes, created a marshal of France + in 1544. Queen Margaret, however, makes no mention of her + Prince being a foreigner. "Belhoste" is of course a + fictitious name invented to replace that which the Prince + really bore, and admits of so many interpretations that its + meaning in the present instance cannot well be determined. + From the circumstance, however, that the Prince's wife was + of inferior birth to himself, it is not impossible that the + personage referred to may be either Charles de Bourbon, + Prince of La Roche-sur-Yonne and Duke of Beaupreau, or John + VIII., Lord of Crequi, Canaples and Pontdormi, and Prince of + Poix. The former, who married Philippa de Montespedon, widow + of Rene de Montejan, and a lady of honour to Catherine de' + Medici when Dauphiness, took a prominent part in the last + wars of Francis I.'s reign, and survived till 1565. The + latter, generally known at Court by the name of Canaples, + was a gentleman of the chamber and an especial favourite of + Francis I. Brantome says of him in his _Homines Illustres_ + that he was "a valiant lord and the strongest man of arms + that in those days existed in all Christendom, for he broke + a lance, no matter its strength, as easily as though it were + a mere switch, and few were able to withstand him." In 1525 + the Prince of Poix married a Demoiselle d'Acigne or Assigny, + of _petite noblesse_, who in 1532 became a lady of honour to + Queen Eleanor. She died in 1558, surviving her husband by + three years. See Rouard's rare _Notice dun Recueil de + Crayons a la Bibliotheque Mejanes d'Aix_, Paris, 1863.--Ed. + +Now this Prince conceived a deep affection for a widow lady called +Madame de Neufchastel, (2) who was reputed the most beautiful woman it +were possible to see; and if the Prince of Bel-hoste loved her well, his +wife loved her no less, and would often send and bid her to dinner, +for she deemed her so discreet and honourable, that, instead of being +grieved by her husband's love for her, she rejoiced to see him address +his attentions to one so full of honour and virtue. + + 2 M. Lacroix thinks that this lady may be Jane de Hochberg, + only daughter of Philip, sovereign Count of Neufchatel. + According to the custom of the time, she was commonly called + Madame de Neufchatel, despite her marriage with Louis + d'Orleans, Duke of Longueville. She died in 1543, after a + lengthy widowhood. We consider the accuracy of M. Lacroix's + surmise to be extremely doubtful, for the names of both the + men figuring in the story are obviously altered so as to + conceal their identity, and it is therefore not likely that + Queen Margaret would designate the lady by her real name, + and thus publish her shame to the world. The Madame de + Neufchatel she speaks of may really have been a Madame de + Chateauneuf, Chateauvieux or Maisonneuve; or we may again be + in presence of Margaret's lady of honour, the widowed + Blanche de Chastillon, _nee_ de Tournon, to whom frequent + reference has been made.--Ed. + +This affection lasted for a great while, the Prince of Belhoste caring +for all the lady's affairs as though they were his own, and his wife +doing no less. By reason, however, of her beauty many great lords and +gentlemen earnestly sought the lady's favour, some only for love's sake, +others for sake of the ring, for, besides being beautiful, she was also +very rich. + +Among the rest was a young gentleman, called the Lord des Cheriots, (3) +who wooed her so ardently that he was never absent from her levee and +couchee, and was also with her as much as possible during the day. This +did not please the Prince of Belhoste, who thought that a man of such +poor estate, and so lacking in grace, did not deserve an honourable +and gracious reception, and he often made remonstrances about it to the +lady. She, however, being one of Eve's daughters, (4) excused herself +by saying that she spoke with every one in general, and that their own +affection was the better concealed, since she never spoke more with one +than with another. + + 3 "Des Cheriots" (occasionally Des Cheriotz in the MS.) may + be a play upon the name of D'Escars, sometimes written Des + Cars. According to La Curne de Ste. Palaye _car_ as well as + _char_ signified chariot. The D'Escars dukedom is modern, + dating from 1815, and in the time of Francis I. the family + was of small estate. Some members of it may well have filled + inferior offices about the court, as in 1536 a Demoiselle + Suzanne d'Escars married Geoffrey de Pompadour, who was both + a prothonotary and cupbearer to Francis I., and lived to + become Governor of the Limousin under Charles IX.--M. and + Ed. + + 4 We take this expression from MS. 1520. Ours says, "a + daughter of the Duke," which is evidently an error.--L. + +Albeit, after some time, this Lord des Cheriots so pressed her that, +more through his importunity than through love, she promised to marry +him, begging him, however, not to urge her to reveal the marriage until +her daughters were wedded. After this the gentleman was wont to go with +untroubled conscience to her chamber at whatsoever hour he chose, and +none but a waiting-woman and a serving-man had knowledge of the matter. + +When the Prince perceived that the gentleman was growing more and more +familiar in the house of her whom he so dearly loved, he took it in +ill-part, and could not refrain from saying to the lady-- + +"I have always prized your honour like that of my own sister, and you +are aware of the honourable manner in which I have addressed you, and +the happiness that I have in loving a lady as discreet and virtuous as +yourself; but did I think that another who deserves it not could win by +importunity that which I am not willing to crave, contrary to your +own desire, this would be unendurable to me, and in the like degree +dishonouring to you. I tell you this because you are beautiful and +young, and although hitherto of good repute, are now beginning to gain +a very evil fame. Even though he be not your equal in birth or fortune, +and have less influence, knowledge and address, yet it were better to +have married him than to give all men matter for suspicion. I pray you, +therefore, tell me whether you are resolved to love him, for I will not +have him as fellow of mine. I would rather leave you altogether to him, +and put away from me the feelings that I have hitherto borne you." + +The poor lady, fearful of losing his affection, thereupon began to weep, +and vowed to him that she would rather die than wed the gentleman of +whom he had spoken, but (she added) he was so importunate that she could +not help his entering her chamber at a time when every one else did so. + +"Of such times as those," said the Prince, "I do not speak, for I can go +as well as he, and see all what you are doing. But I have been told that +he goes after you are in bed, and this I look upon as so extraordinary +that, if you should continue in this mode of life without declaring him +to be your husband, you will be disgraced more than any woman that ever +lived." + +She swore to him with all the oaths she could utter that the other was +neither her husband nor her lover, but only as importunate a gentleman +as there well could be. + +"Since he is troublesome to you," said the Prince, "I promise you that I +will rid you of him." + +"What!" asked the lady. "Would you kill him?" + +"No, no," said the Prince, "but I will give him to understood that it +is not in such a place as this, not in such a house as the King's, that +ladies are to be put to shame. And I swear to you by the faith of the +lover that I am, that if, after I have spoken with him, he does not +correct himself, I will correct him in such a manner as to make him a +warning to others." + +So saying he went away, and on leaving the room failed not to meet the +Lord des Cheriots on his way in. To him he spoke after the fashion that +you have heard, assuring him that the first time he was found there +after an hour at which gentlemen might reasonably visit the ladies, he +would give him such a fright as he would ever remember. And he added +that the lady was of too noble a house to be trifled with after such a +fashion. + +The gentleman protested that he had never been in the room except in the +same manner as the rest, and, if the Prince should find him there, he +gave him full leave to do his worst. + +One day afterwards, when the gentleman believed the Prince's words +to have been forgotten, he went to see his lady in the evening, and +remained sufficiently late. + +The Prince [that same evening] told his wife that Madame de Neufchastel +had a severe cold, upon hearing which the worthy lady begged that he +would visit her on behalf of them both, and make excuse for herself, +since she could not go by reason of a certain matter that she must needs +attend to in her room. + +The Prince waited until the King was in bed, and then went to give +the lady good-evening, but as he was going up a stairway he met a +serving-man coming down, who, on being asked how his mistress did, swore +that she was in bed and asleep. + +The Prince went down the stairway, but, suspecting that the servant +had lied, looked behind and saw him going back again with all speed. +He walked about the courtyard in front of the door to see whether the +servant would return. A quarter of an hour later he perceived him come +down again and look all about to see who was in the courtyard. + +Forthwith the Prince was convinced that the Lord des Cheriots was in the +lady's chamber, but through fear of himself durst not come down, and he +therefore again walked about for a long-while. + +At last, observing that the lady's room had a casement which was not at +all high up, and which looked upon a little garden, he remembered the +proverb which says, "When the door fails the window avails," and he +thereupon called a servant of his own, and said to him-- + +"Go into the garden there behind, and, if you see a gentleman come down +from the window, draw your sword as soon as he reaches the ground, clash +it against the wall, and cry out, 'Slay! slay!' Be careful, however, +that you do not touch him." + +The servant went whither his master had sent him, and the Prince walked +about until three hours after midnight. + +When the Lord des Cheriots heard that the Prince was still in the yard, +he resolved to descend by the window, and, having first thrown clown his +cloak, he then, by the help of his good friends, leapt into the garden. +As soon as the servant saw him, he failed not to make a noise with +his sword, at the same time crying, "Slay! slay!" Upon this the poor +gentleman, believing it was his [the servant's] master, was in such +great fear that, without thinking of his cloak, he fled as quickly as he +was able. + +He met the archers of the watch, who wondered greatly to see him running +in this fashion, but he durst say nothing to them, except to beg them to +open him the gate [of the castle], or else to lodge him with themselves +until morning. And this, as they had not the keys, they did. + +Then the Prince went to bed, and, finding his wife asleep, awoke her +saying-- + +"Guess, my wife, what hour it is.'' + +"I have not heard the clock strike since I went to bed," she replied. + +"It is three hours after midnight," said he. + +"If that be so," said his wife, "where have you been all this time? I +greatly fear that your health will be the worse for it." + +"Sweetheart," said the Prince, "watching will never make me ill when +I am engaged in preventing those who try to deceive me from going to +sleep." + +So saying, he began to laugh so heartily that his wife begged him to +tell her of the matter. This he did at length, showing her the wolf's +skin (4) which his servant had brought him. After making merry at +the expense of the hapless lovers, they went to sleep in gentle +tranquillity, while the other two passed the night in torment, fearing +and dreading lest the affair should be revealed. + +However, the gentleman, knowing right well that he could not use +concealment with the Prince, came to him in the morning when he was +dressing to beg that he would not expose him, and would give orders for +the return of his cloak. + +The Prince pretended that he knew nothing of the matter, and put such a +face on it that the gentleman was wholly at a loss what to think. But +in the end he received a rating that he had not expected, for the Prince +assured him that, if ever he went to the lady's room again, he would +tell the King of it, and have him banished the Court. + +"I pray you, ladies, judge whether it had not been better for this poor +lady to have spoken freely to him who did her the honour of loving and +esteeming her, instead of leading him by her dissimulation to prove her +in a way that brought her so much shame." + +"She knew," said Geburon, "that if she confessed the truth she would +wholly lose his favour, and this she on no account desired to do." + +"It seems to me," said Longarine, "that when she had chosen a husband +to her liking, she ought not to have feared the loss of any other man's +affection." + +"I am sure," said Parlamente, "that if she had dared to reveal her +marriage, she would have been quite content with her husband; but she +wished to hide it until her daughters were wed, and so she would not +abandon so good a means of concealment." + +"It was not for that reason," said Saffredent, "but because the ambition +of women is so great that they are never satisfied with having only +one lover. I have heard that the discreetest of them are glad to have +three--one, namely, for honour, one for profit, and one for delight. +Each of the three thinks himself loved the best, but the first two are +as servants to the last." + +"You speak," said Oisille, "of such women as have neither love nor +honour." + +"Madam," said Saffredent, "there are some of the kind that I describe, +whom you reckon among the most honourable in the land." + +"You may be sure," said Hircan, "that a crafty woman will be able to +live where all others die of hunger." + +"And," said Longarine, "when their craftiness is discerned, 'tis death." + +"Nay, 'tis life," said Simontault, "for they deem it no small glory +to be reputed more crafty than their fellows. And the reputation of +'crafty,' gained thus at their own expense, brings lovers more readily +under subjection to them than does their beauty, for one of the greatest +delights shared by those who are in love is to conduct the affair +slyly." + +"You speak," said Ennasuite, "of wanton love, for the honourable has no +need of concealment." + +"Ah!" said Dagoucin, "I pray you put that thought out of your head. +The more precious the drug, the less should it be exposed to the air, +because of the perverseness of those who trust only to outward signs. +These are not different in the case of honourable and faithful affection +than in any other case, so they must none the less be hidden when the +love is virtuous than when it is the opposite, if one would avoid the +evil opinion of those who cannot believe that a man may love a lady in +all honour, and who, being themselves slaves to pleasure, think every +one else the same. If we were all of good faith, look and speech would +be without concealment, at least toward those who would rather die than +take them in an evil sense." + +"I protest to you, Dagoucin," said Hircan, "that your philosophy is too +deep for any man here to understand or believe. You would have us think +that men are angels, or stones, or devils." + +"I am well aware," said Dagoucin, "that men are men and subject to every +passion, but there are some, nevertheless, who would rather die than +that their mistresses should, for their delight, do aught against their +consciences." + +"To die means a great deal," said Geburon. "I would not believe that of +them were it uttered by the lips of the austerest monk alive." + +"Nay, I believe," said Hircan, "that there is none but desires the very +opposite. But they make pretence of disliking the grapes when these hang +too high to be gathered." + +"Still," said Nomcrfide, "I am sure that the Prince's wife was very glad +to find that her husband was learning to know women." + +"I assure you it was not so," said Ennasuite. "She was very sorry on +account of the love that she bore the lady." + +"I would as soon," said Saffredent, "have the lady who laughed when her +husband kissed her maid." + +"In sooth," said Ennasuite, "you shall tell us the story. I give place +to you." + +"Although the story is very short," said Saffredent, "I will still +relate it, for I would rather make you laugh than speak myself at +length." + + +[Illustration: 036.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 037a.jpg The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing] + +[The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing] + +[Illustration: 037.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LIV_. + + _Thogas's wife, believing that her husband loved none but + herself, was pleased that her serving-woman should amuse + him, and laughed when in her presence he kissed the girl + before her eyes, and with her knowledge_. + +Between the Pyrenees Mountains and the Alps, there dwelt a gentleman +named Thogas, (1) who had a wife and children, with a very beautiful +house, and so much wealth and pleasure at his hand, that there was +reason he should live in contentment, had it not been that he was +subject to great pain beneath the roots of the hair, in such wise that +the doctors advised him to sleep no longer with his wife. She, whose +chief thought was for her husband's life and health, readily consented, +and caused her bed to be set in another corner of the room directly +opposite her husband's, so that they could neither of them put out their +heads without seeing each other. + + 1 We are unable to trace any family named Thogas, which is + probably a fictitious appellation. Read backwards with the + letter h omitted it forms Sagot, whilst if the syllables be + transposed it suggests Guasto, a well-known Basque or + Navarrese name.--Ed. + +This lady had two serving-women, and often when the lord and his lady +were in bed, they would each take some diverting book to read, whilst +the serving-women held candles, the younger, that is, for the gentleman, +and the other for his wife. + +The gentleman, finding that the maid was younger and handsomer than her +mistress, took such great pleasure in observing her that he would break +off his reading in order to converse with her. His wife could hear this +very plainly, but believing that her husband loved none but herself, she +was well pleased that her servants should amuse him. + +It happened one evening, however, when they had read longer than was +their wont, that the lady looked towards her husband's bed where was the +young serving-maid holding the candle. Of her she could see nothing but +her back, and of her husband nothing at all excepting on the side of +the chimney, which jutted out in front of his bed, and the white wall of +which was bright with the light from the candle. And upon this wall +she could plainly see the shadows both of her husband and of her maid; +whether they drew apart, or came near together or laughed, it was all as +clear to her as though she had veritably beheld them. + +The gentleman, using no precaution since he felt sure that his wife +could not see them, kissed her maid, and on the first occasion his wife +suffered this to pass without uttering a word. But when she saw that the +shadows frequently returned to this fellowship, she feared that there +might be some reality beneath it all, and burst into a loud laugh, +whereat the shadows were alarmed and separated. + +The gentleman then asked his wife why she was laughing so heartily, so +that he might have a share in her merriment. + +"Husband," she replied, "I am so foolish that I laugh at my own shadow." + +Inquire as he might, she would never acknowledge any other reason, but, +nevertheless, he thenceforward refrained from kissing such shadow-faces. + +"That is the story of which I was reminded when I spoke of the lady who +loved her husband's sweetheart." + +"By my faith," said Ennasuite, "if my maid had treated me in that +fashion, I should have risen and extinguished the candle upon her nose." + +"You are indeed terrible," said Hircan, "but it had been well done +if your husband and the maid had both turned upon you and beaten you +soundly. There should not be so much ado for a kiss; and 'twould have +been better if his wife had said nothing about it, and had suffered him +to take his pastime, which might perchance have cured his complaint." + +"Nay," said Parlamente, "she was afraid that the end of the pastime +would make him worse." + +"She was not one of those," said Oisille, "against whom our Lord says, +'We have mourned to you and ye have not lamented, we have sung to you +and ye have not danced,' (2) for when her husband was ill, she wept, and +when he was merry, she laughed. In the same fashion every virtuous +woman ought to share the good and evil, the joy and the sadness of her +husband, and serve and obey him as the Church does Jesus Christ." + + 2 "They are like unto children sitting in the market-place, + and calling one to another, and saying, We have piped unto + you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye + have not wept."--_St. Luke_ vii. 32.--M. + +"Then, ladies," said Parlamente, "our husbands should be to us what +Christ is to the Church." + +"So are we," said Saffredent, "and, if it were possible, something more; +for Christ died but once for His Church, whereas we die daily for our +wives." + +"Die!" said Longarine. "Methinks that you and the others here present +are now worth more crowns than you were worth pence before you were +wed." + +"And I know why," said Saffredent; "it is because our worth is often +tried. Still our shoulders are sensible of having worn the cuirass so +long." + +"If," said Ennasuite, "you had been obliged to wear harness for a month +and lie on the hard ground, you would greatly long to regain the bed of +your excellent wife, and wear the cuirass of which you now complain. +But it is said that everything can be endured except ease, and that +none know what rest is until they have lost it. This foolish woman, who +laughed when her husband was merry, was fond of taking her rest under +any circumstances." + +"I am sure," said Longarine, "that she loved her rest better than her +husband, since she took nothing that he did to heart." + +"She did take to heart," said Parlamente, "those things which might have +been hurtful to his conscience and his health, but she would not dwell +upon trifles." + +"When you speak of conscience," said Simontault "you make me laugh. 'Tis +a thing to which I would have no woman give heed." + +"It would be a good thing," said Nomerfide, "if you had a wife like one +who, after her husband's death, proved that she loved her money better +than her conscience." + +"I pray you," said Saffredent, "tell us that tale. I give you my vote." + +"I had not intended," said Nomcrfide, "to relate so short a story, but, +since it is suited to the occasion, I will do so." + + +[Illustration: 042.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 043a.jpg The Servant selling the Horse with the Cat] + +[The Servant selling the Horse with the Cat] + +[Illustration: 043.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LV_. + + _A merchant's widow, whilst carrying out her husband's will, + interpreted its purport to the advantage of herself and her + children_. (1) + +In the town of Safagossa there lived a rich merchant, who, finding his +death draw nigh, and himself no longer able to retain possession of his +goods---which he had perchance gathered together by evil means--thought +that if he made a little present to God, he might thus after his death +make part atonement for his sins, just as though God sold His pardon for +money. Accordingly, when he had settled matters in respect of his house, +he declared it to be his desire that a fine Spanish horse which he +possessed should be sold for as much as it would bring, and the money +obtained for it be distributed among the poor. And he begged his wife +that she would in no wise fail to sell the horse as soon as he was dead, +and distribute the money in the manner he had commanded. + + 1 Whether the incidents here related be true or not, it is + probable that this was a story told to Queen Margaret at the + time of her journey to Spain in 1525. It will have been + observed (_ante_, pp. 36 and 42) that both the previous tale + and this one are introduced into the _Heptameron_ in a semi- + apologetic fashion, as though the Queen had not originally + intended that her work should include such short, slight + anecdotes. However, already at this stage--the fifty-fifth + only of the hundred tales which she proposed writing--she + probably found fewer materials at her disposal than she had + anticipated, and harked back to incidents of her earlier + years, which she had at first thought too trifling to + record. Still, slight as this story may be, it is not + without point. The example set by the wife of the Saragossa + merchant has been followed in modern times in more ways than + one.--Ed. + +When the burial was over and the first tears were shed, the wife, who +was no more of a fool than Spanish women are used to be, went to the +servant who with herself had heard his master declare his desire, and +said to him-- + +"Methinks I have lost enough in the person of a husband I loved so +dearly, without afterwards losing his possessions. Yet would I not +disobey his word, but rather better his intention; for the poor man, led +astray by the greed of the priests, thought to make a great sacrifice to +God in bestowing after his death a sum of money, not a crown of which, +as you well know, he would have given in his lifetime to relieve even +the sorest need. I have therefore bethought me that we will do what +he commanded at his death, and in still better fashion than he himself +would have done if had he lived a fortnight longer. But no living person +must know aught of the matter." + +When she had received the servant's promise to keep it secret, she said +to him-- + +"You will go and sell the horse, and when you are asked, 'How much?' +you will reply, 'A ducat.' I have, however, a very fine cat which I also +wish to dispose of, and you will sell it with the horse for ninety-nine +ducats, so that cat and horse together will bring in the hundred ducats +for which my husband wished to sell the horse alone." + +The servant readily fulfilled his mistress's command. While he was +walking the horse about the market-place, and holding the cat in his +arms, a gentleman, who had seen the horse before, and was desirous of +possessing it, asked the servant what price he sought. + +"A ducat," replied the man. + +"I pray you," said the gentleman, "do not mock me." + +"I assure you, sir," said the servant, "that it will cost you only a +ducat. It is true that the cat must be bought at the same time, and for +the cat I must have nine and ninety ducats." + +Forthwith, the gentleman, thinking the bargain a reasonable one, paid +him one ducat for the horse, and the remainder as was desired of him, +and took his goods away. + +The servant, on his part, went off with the money, with which his +mistress was right well pleased, and she failed not to give the ducat +that the horse had brought to the poor Mendicants, (2) as her husband +had commanded, and the remainder she kept for the needs of herself and +her children. (3) + + 2 The allusion is not to the ordinary beggars who then, as + now, swarmed in Spain, but to the Mendicant friars.--Ed. + + 3 In Boaistuau's and Gruget's editions of the _Heptameron_ + the dialogue following this tale is replaced by matter of + their own invention. They did not dare to reproduce Queen + Margaret's bold opinions respecting the clergy, the monastic + orders, &c., at a time when scores of people, including even + Counsellors of Parliament, were being burnt at the stake for + heresy.--L. and Ed. + +"What think you? Was she not far more prudent than her husband, and +did she not think less of her conscience than of the advantage of her +household?" + +"I think," said Parlamente, "that she did love her husband; but, seeing +that most men wander in their wits when at the point of death, and +knowing his intentions, she tried to interpret them to her children's +advantage. And therein I hold her to have been very prudent." + +"What!" said Geburon. "Do you not hold it a great wrong not to carry out +the last wishes of departed friends?" + +"Assuredly I do," said Parlamente; "that is to say if the testator be in +his right mind, and not raving." + +"Do you call it raving to give one's goods to the Church and the poor +Mendicants?" + +"I do not call it raving," said Parlamente, "if a man distribute what +God has given into his hands among the poor; but to make alms of another +person's goods is, in my opinion, no great wisdom. You will commonly see +the greatest usurers build the handsomest and most magnificent chapels +imaginable, thinking they may appease God with ten thousand ducats' +worth of building for a hundred thousand ducats' worth of robbery, just +as though God did not know how to count." + +"In sooth," said Oisille, "I have many a time wondered how they can +think to appease God for things which He Himself rebuked when He was on +earth, such as great buildings, gildings, pictures and paint. If they +really understood the passage in which God says to us that the only +offering He requires from us is a contrite and humble heart, (4) and +the other in which St. Paul says we are the temples of God wherein He +desires to dwell, (5) they would be at pains to adorn their consciences +while yet alive, and would not wait for the hour when man can do nothing +more, whether good or evil, nor (what is worse) charge those who remain +on earth to give their alms to folk upon whom, during their lifetime, +they did not deign to look. But He who knows the heart cannot be +deceived, and will judge them not according to their works, but +according to their faith and charity towards Himself." + + 4 "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and + a contrite heart, O God, thou will not despise."--_Psalm_ + li. 17.--Ed. + + 5 "For ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath + said, I will dwell in them and walk in them," &c.--2 + _Corinthians_ vi. 16.--Ed. + +"Why is it, then," said Geburon, "that these Grey Friars and Mendicants +talk to us at our death of nothing but bestowing great benefits upon +their monasteries, assuring us that they will put us into Paradise +whether we will or not?" + +"How now, Geburon?" said Hircan. "Have you forgotten the wickedness you +related to us of the Grey Friars, that you ask how such folk find it +possible to lie? I declare to you that I do not think that there can +be greater lies than theirs. Those, indeed, who speak on behalf of the +whole community are not to be blamed, but there are some among them who +forget their vows of poverty in order to satisfy their own greed." + +"Methinks, Hircan," said Nomerfide, "you must know some such tale, and +if it be worthy of this company, I pray you tell it us." + +"I will," said Hircan, "although it irks me to speak of such folk. +Methinks they are of the number of those of whom Virgil says to Dante, +'Pass on and heed them not.' (6) Still, to show you that they have not +laid aside their passions with their worldly garments, I will tell you +of something that once came to pass." + + 6 _Non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa_ (Dante's + _Purgatorio_, iii. 51). The allusion is to the souls of + those who led useless and idle lives on earth, supporting + neither the Divinity by the observance of virtue, nor the + spirit of evil by the practice of vice. They are thus cast + out both from heaven and hell.--Ed. + + +[Illustration: 049.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 051a.jpg The Grey Friar introducing his Comrade to the +Lady and her Daughter] + +[The Grey Friar introducing his Comrade to the Lady and her +Daughter] + +[Illustration: 051.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LVI_. + + _A pious lady had recourse to a Grey Friar for his advice in + providing her daughter with a good husband, for whom she + proposed making it so profitable a match that the worthy + father, hoping to get the money she intended for her son-in- + law, married her daughter to a young comrade of his own. The + latter came every evening to sup and lie with his wife, and + in the morning returned in the garb of a scholar to his + convent. But one day while he was chanting mass, his wife + perceived him and pointed him out to her mother; who, + however, could not believe that it was he until she had + pulled off his coif while he was in bed, and from his tonsure + learned the whole truth, and the deceit used by her father + confessor_. + +A French lady, whilst sojourning at Padua, was informed that there was +a Grey Friar in the Bishop's prison there, and finding that every one +spoke jestingly about him, she inquired the reason. She was told that +this Grey Friar, who was an old man, had been confessor to a very +honourable and pious widow lady, mother of only one daughter, whom she +loved so dearly as to be at all pains to amass riches for her, and to +find her a good husband. Now, seeing that her daughter was grown up, she +was unceasingly anxious to find her a husband who might live with them +in peace and quiet, a man, that is, of a good conscience, such as she +deemed herself to possess. And since she had heard some foolish preacher +say that it were better to do evil by the counsel of theologians than +to do well through belief in the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, she +had recourse to her father confessor, a man already old, a doctor of +theology and one who was held to lead a holy life by the whole town, +for she felt sure that, with his counsel and good prayers, she could not +fail to find peace both for herself and for her daughter. After she had +earnestly begged him to choose for her daughter such a husband as he +knew a woman that loved God and her honour ought to desire, he replied +that first of all it was needful to implore the grace of the Holy Spirit +with prayer and fasting, and then, God guiding his judgment, he hoped to +find what she required. + +So the Friar retired to think over the matter; and whereas he had heard +from the lady that she had got five hundred ducats together to give to +her daughter's husband, and that she would take upon herself the charge +of maintaining both husband and wife with lodgment, furniture and +clothes, he bethought himself that he had a young comrade of handsome +figure and pleasing countenance, to whom he might give the fair maiden, +the house, the furniture, maintenance and food, whilst he himself kept +the five hundred ducats to gratify his burning greed. And when he spoke +to his comrade of the matter, he found that they were both of one mind +upon it. + +He therefore returned to the lady and said--"I verily believe that God +has sent his angel Raphael to me as he did to Tobit, to enable me to +find a perfect husband for your daughter. I have in my house the most +honourable gentleman in Italy, who has sometimes seen your daughter and +is deeply in love with her. And so to-day, whilst I was at prayer, +God sent him to me, and he told me of his desire for the marriage, +whereupon, knowing his lineage and kindred and notable descent, I +promised him to speak to you on the matter. There is, indeed, one defect +in him, of which I alone have knowledge, and it is this. Wishing to save +one of his friends whom another man was striving to slay, he drew his +sword in order to separate them; but it chanced that his friend slew the +other, and thus, although he himself had not dealt a blow, yet inasmuch +as he had been present at a murder and had drawn his sword, he became +a fugitive from his native town. By the advice of his kinsfolk he came +hither in the garb of a scholar, and he dwells here unknown until his +kinsfolk shall have ended the matter; and this he hopes will shortly +be done. For this reason, then, it would be needful that the marriage +should be performed in secret, and that you should suffer him to go in +the daytime to the public lectures and return home every evening to sup +and sleep." + +"Sir," replied the worthy woman, "I look upon what you tell me as of +great advantage to myself, for I shall at least have by me what I most +desire in the world." + +Thereupon the Grey Friar brought his comrade, bravely attired with a +crimson satin doublet, and the lady was well pleased with him. And as +soon as he was come the betrothal took place, and, immediately after +midnight, a mass was said and they were married. Then they went to +bed together until daybreak, when the bridegroom told his wife that to +escape discovery he must needs return to the college. + +After putting on his crimson satin doublet and his long robe, without +forgetting his coif of black silk, he bade his wife, who was still in +bed, good-bye, promising that he would come every evening to sup with +her, but that at dinner they must not wait for him. So he went away and +left his wife, who esteemed herself the happiest woman alive to have +found so excellent a match. And the young wedded Friar returned to the +old father and brought him the five hundred ducats, as had been agreed +between them when arranging the marriage. + +In the evening he failed not to return and sup with her, who believed +him to be her husband, and so well did he make himself liked by her and +by his mother-in-law, that they would not have exchanged him for the +greatest Prince alive. + +This manner of life continued for some time, but God in His kindness +takes pity upon those that are deceived without fault of their own, and +so in His mercy and goodness it came to pass that one morning the lady +and her daughter felt a great desire to go and hear mass at St. Francis, +(1) and visit their good father confessor through whose means they +deemed themselves so well provided, the one with a son-in-law and the +other with a husband. + + 1 The church of the Grey Friars' monastery, St Francis + being their patron.--B. J. + +It chanced that they did not find the confessor aforesaid nor any other +that they knew, and, while waiting to see whether the father would +come, they were pleased to hear high mass, which was just beginning. And +whilst the young wife was giving close heed to the divine service and +its mystery, she was stricken with astonishment on seeing the Priest +turn himself about to pronounce the _Dominus vobiscum_, for it seemed +to her that it was her husband or else his very fellow. She uttered, +however, not a word, but waited till he should turn round again, when, +looking still more carefully at him, she had no doubt that it was indeed +he. Then she twitched her mother, who was deep in contemplation, and +said-- + +"Alas! madam, what is it that I see?" + +"What is it?" said her mother. + +"That is my husband," she replied, "who is singing mass, or else 'tis +one as like him as can be." + +"I pray you, my daughter," replied the mother, who had not carefully +observed him, "do not take such a thought into your head. It is +impossible that men who are so holy should have practised such deceit. +You would sin grievously against God if you believed such a thing." + +Nevertheless the mother did not cease looking at him, and when it came +to the _Ite missa est_ she indeed perceived that no two sons of the same +mother were ever so much alike. Yet she was so simple that she would +fain have said, "O God, save me from believing what I see." Since her +daughter was concerned in the matter, however, she would not suffer it +to remain in uncertainty, and resolved to learn the truth. + +When evening was come, and the husband (who had perceived nothing of +them) was about to return, the mother said to her daughter-- + +"We shall now, if you are willing, find out the truth concerning your +husband. When he is in bed I will go to him, and then, while he is not +thinking, you will pluck off his coif from behind, and we shall see +whether he be tonsured like the Friar who said mass." + +As it was proposed, so was it done. As soon as the wicked husband was in +bed, the old lady came and took both his hands as though in sport--her +daughter took off his coif, and there he was with his fine tonsure. At +this both mother and daughter were as greatly astonished as might be, +and forthwith they called their servants to seize him and bind him fast +till the morning, nor did any of his excuses or fine speeches avail him +aught. + +When day was come, the lady sent for her confessor, making as though she +had some great secret to tell him, whereupon he came with all speed, and +then, reproaching him for the deceit that he had practised on her, she +had him seized like the other. Afterwards she sent for the officers of +justice, in whose hands she placed them both. It is to be supposed that +if the judges were honest men they did not suffer the offence to go +unpunished. (2) + + 2 There is some little resemblance between this tale and + the 36th of Morlini's _Novello, De monacho qui duxit + uxorem_.--M. + +"From this story, ladies, you will see that those who have taken vows of +poverty are not free from the temptation of covetousness, which is the +cause of so many ills." + +"Nay, of so many blessings," said Saffredent, "for with the five hundred +ducats that the old woman would have stored up there was made much good +cheer, while the poor maiden, who had been longing for a husband, was +thus enabled to have two, and to speak with more knowledge as to the +truth of all hierarchies." + +"You always hold the falsest opinions," said Oisille, "that ever I knew. +You think that all women are of your own temper." + +"Not so, madam, with your good leave," said Saffredent. "I would give +much that they were as easily satisfied as we are." + +"That is a wicked speech," said Oisille, "and there is not one present +but knows the contrary, and that what you say is untrue. The story that +has just been told proves the ignorance of poor women and the wickedness +of those whom we regard as better than the rest of your sex; for neither +mother nor daughter would do aught according to their own fancy, but +subjected desire to good advice." + +"Some women are so difficult," said Longarine, "that they think they +ought to have angels instead of men." + +"And for that reason," said Simontault, "they often meet with devils, +more especially those who, instead of trusting to God's grace, think +by their own good sense, or that of others, that they may in this world +find some happiness, though this is granted by none save God, from whom +alone it can come." + +"How now, Simontault!" said Oisille. "I did not think that you knew so +much good." + +"Madam," said Simontault, "'tis a pity that I have not been proved, for +I see that through lack of knowledge you have already judged ill of me. +Yet I may well practise a Grey Friar's trade, since a Grey Friar has +meddled with mine." + +"So you call it your trade," said Parlamente, "to deceive women? Thus +out of your mouth are you judged." + +"Had I deceived a hundred thousand," said Simontault, "I should yet not +have avenged the woes that I have endured for the sake of one alone." + +"I know," said Parlamente, "how often you complain of women; yet, +for all that, we see you so merry and hearty that it is impossible +to believe that you have endured all the woes you speak of. But the +'Compassionless Fair One' (3) replies that-- + + "'Tis as well to say as much + To draw some comfort thence.'" + + 3 _La belle Dame sans mercy_, by Alain Chartier.--Ed. + +"You quote a truly notable theologian," said Simontault, "one who is +not only froward himself, but makes all the ladies so, who have read and +followed his teaching." + +"Yet his teaching," said Parlamente, "is as profitable for youthful +dames as any that I know." + +"If it were indeed true," said Simontault, "that the ladies were without +compassion, we might as well let our horses rest and our armour grow +rusty until the next war, and think of nothing but household affairs. +And, I pray you, tell me whether it is an excellence in a lady to have +the reputation of being without pity, or charity, or love, or mercy." + +"Without charity or love," said Parlamente, "they should not be, but the +word 'mercy' sounds so ill among women that they cannot use it without +wounding their honour; for properly speaking 'mercy' means to grant a +favour sought, and we well know what the favour is that men desire." + +"May it please you, madam," said Simontault, "there are some men who are +so reasonable that they crave nought but speech." + +"You remind me," said Parlamente, "of one who was content with a glove." + +"We must know who this easy lover was," said Hircan, "and so this time I +give my vote to you." + +"It will give me pleasure to tell the tale," said Parlamente, "for it is +full of virtue." + + +[Illustration: 061.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 063a.jpg The English Lord seizing the Lady's Glove] + +[The English Lord seizing the Lady's Glove] + +[Illustration: 063.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LVII_. + + _An English lord for seven years loved a lady without ever + venturing to let her know of it, until one day, when + observing her in a meadow, he lost all colour and control of + feature through a sudden throbbing of the heart that came + upon him. Then she, showing her compassion, at his request + placed her gloved hand upon his heart, whereupon he pressed + it so closely, whilst declaring to her the love he had so + long borne her, that she withdrew it, leaving in its place + her glove. And this glove he afterwards enriched with gems + and fastened upon his doublet above his heart, and showed + himself so graceful and virtuous a lover that he never + sought any more intimate favour of her_. + +King Louis the Eleventh (1) sent the Lord de Montmorency to England as +his ambassador, and so welcome was the latter in that country that the +King and all the Princes greatly esteemed and loved him, and even +made divers of their private affairs known to him in order to have his +counsel upon them. + + 1 Some of the MS. say Louis XII., but we cannot find that + either the eleventh or twelfth Louis sent any Montmorency as + ambassador to England. Ripault-Desormeaux states, however, + in his history of this famous French family, that William de + Montmorency, who, after fighting in Italy under Charles + VIII. and Louis XII., became, governor of the Orleanais and + _chevalier d'honneur_ to Louise of Savoy was one of the + signatories of the treaty concluded with Henry VIII. of + England, after the-battle of Pavia in 1525. We know that + Louise, as Regent of France, at that time sent John Brinon + and John Joachim de Passano as ambassadors to England, and + possibly William de Montmorency accompanied them, since + Desormeaux expressly states that he guaranteed the loyal + observance of the treaty then negotiated. William was the + father of Anne, the famous Constable of France, and died May + 24, 1531. "Geburon," in the dialogue following the above + tale, mentions that he had well known the Montmorency + referred to, and speaks of him as of a person dead and gone. + It is therefore scarcely likely that Queen Margaret alludes + to Francis de Montmorency, Lord of La Rochepot, who was only + sent on a mission to England in 1546, and survived her by + many years.--L. and Ed. + +One day, at a banquet that the King gave to him, he was seated beside a +lord (2) of high lineage, who had on his doublet a little glove, such +as women wear, fastened with hooks of gold and so adorned upon the +finger-seams with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and pearls, that it was +indeed a glove of great price. + + 2 The French word is _Millor (Milord)_ and this is probably + one of the earliest instances of its employment to designate + a member of the English aristocracy. In such of the _Cent + Nouvelles Nouvelles_ in which English nobles figure, the + latter are invariably called _seigneurs_ or _chevaliers_, + and addressed as _Monseigneur_, Later on, when Brantome + wrote, the term _un milord anglais_ had become quite common, + and he frequently makes use of it in his various works. + English critics have often sneered at modern French writers + for employing the expression, but it will be seen from this + that they have simply followed a very old tradition.--Ed. + +The Lord de Montmorency looked at it so often that the English lord +perceived he was minded to inquire why it was so choicely ordered; so, +deeming its story to be greatly to his own honour, he thus began-- + +"I can see that you think it strange I should have so magnificently +arrayed a simple glove, and on my part I am still more ready to tell you +the reason, for I deem you an honest gentleman and one who knows what +manner of passion love is, so that if I did well in the matter you will +praise me for it, and if not, make excuse for me, knowing that every +honourable heart must obey the behests of love. You must know, then, +that I have all my life long loved a lady whom I love still, and shall +love even when I am dead, but, as my heart was bolder to fix itself +worthily than were my lips to speak, I remained for seven years without +venturing to make her any sign, through fear that, if she perceived +the truth, I should lose the opportunities I had of often being in her +company; and this I dreaded more than death. However, one day, while I +was observing her in a meadow, a great throbbing of the heart came upon +me, so that I lost all colour and control of feature. Perceiving +this, she asked me what the matter was, and I told her that I felt +an intolerable pain of the heart. She, believing it to be caused by a +different sickness than love, showed herself pitiful towards me, which +prompted me to beg her to lay her hand upon my heart and see how it was +beating. This, more from charity than from any other affection, she did, +and while I held her gloved hand against my heart, it began to beat and +strain in such wise, that she felt that I was speaking the truth. Then I +pressed her hand to my breast, saying-- + +"'Alas, madam, receive the heart which would fain break forth from my +breast to leap into the hand of her from whom I look for indulgence, +life and pity, and which now constrains me to make known to you the +love that I have so long concealed, for neither my heart nor I can now +control this potent God.' + +"When she heard those words, she deemed them very strange. She wished +to withdraw her hand, but I held it fast, and the glove remained in her +cruel hand's place; and having neither before nor since had any more +intimate favour from her, I have fastened this glove upon my heart as +the best plaster I could give it. And I have adorned it with the +richest rings I have, though the glove itself is wealth that I would not +exchange for the kingdom of England, for I deem no happiness on earth so +great as to feel it on my breast." + +The Lord de Montmorency, who would have rather had a lady's hand than +her glove, praised his very honourable behaviour, telling him that +he was the truest lover he had ever known, and was worthy of better +treatment, since he set so much value upon so slight a thing; though +perchance, if he had obtained aught better than the glove, the greatness +of his love might have made him die of joy. With this the English lord +agreed, not suspecting that the Lord de Montmorency was mocking him. (3) + + 3 Alluding to this story, Brantome writes as follows in his + _Dames Galantes_: "You have that English _Milord_ in the + Hundred Tales of the Queen of Navarre, who wore his + mistress's glove at his side, beautifully adorned. I myself + have known many gentlemen who, before wearing their silken + hose, would beg their ladies and mistresses to try them on + and wear them for some eight or ten days, rather more than + less, and who would then themselves wear them in extreme + veneration and contentment, both of mind and body."-- + Lalanne's _OEuvres de Brantome_, vol. ix. p. 309.--L. + +"If all men were so honourable as this one, the ladies might well trust +them, since the cost would be merely a glove." + +"I knew the Lord de Montmorency well," said Geburon, "and I am sure that +he would not have cared to fare after the English fashion. Had he been +contented with so little, he would not have been so successful in love +as he was, for the old song says-- + + 'Of a cowardly lover + No good is e'er heard.'" + +"You may be sure," said Saffredent, "that the poor lady withdrew her +hand with all speed, when she felt the beating of his heart, because she +thought that he was about to die, and people say that there is nothing +women loathe more than to touch dead bodies." (4) + + 4 Most of this sentence, deficient in our MS., is taken + from MS. No. 1520.--L. + +"If you had spent as much time in hospitals as in taverns," said +Ennasuite, "you would not speak in that way, for you would have seen +women shrouding dead bodies, which men, bold as they are, often fear to +touch." + +"It is true," said Saffredent, "that there is none upon whom penance has +been laid but does the opposite of that wherein he formerly had delight, +like a lady I once saw in a notable house, who, to atone for her delight +in kissing one she loved, was found at four o'clock in the morning +kissing the corpse of a gentleman who had been killed the day before, +and whom she had never liked more than any other. Then every one knew +that this was a penance for past delights. But as all the good deeds +done by women are judged ill by men, I am of opinion that, dead or +alive, there should be no kissing except after the fashion that God +commands." + +"For my part," said Hircan, "I care so little about kissing women, +except my own wife, that I will assent to any law you please, yet I +pity the young folk whom you deprive of this trifling happiness, thus +annulling the command of St. Paul, who bids us kiss _in osculo sancto._" +(5) + + 5 _Romans_ xvi. 16; 1 _Corinthians_ xvi. 20; 2 + _Corinthians_ xiii. 12; I _Thessalonians_ v. 26. Also 1 + _Peter_ v. 14.--M. + +"If St. Paul had been such a man as you are," said Nomerfide, "we should +indeed have required proof of the Spirit of God that spoke in him." + +"In the end," said Geburon, "you will doubt Holy Scripture rather than +give up one of your petty affectations." + +"God forbid," said Oisille, "that we should doubt Holy Scripture, but +we put small faith in your lies. There is no woman but knows what her +belief should be, namely, never to doubt the Word of God or believe the +word of man." + +"Yet," said Simontauit, "I believe that there are more men deceived by +women than [women] by men. The slenderness of women's love towards us +keeps them from believing our truths, whilst our exceeding love towards +them makes us trust so completely in their falsehoods, that we are +deceived before we suspect such a thing to be possible." + +"Methinks," said Parlamente, "you have been hearing some fool complain +of being duped by a wanton woman, for your words carry but little +weight, and need the support of an example. If, therefore, you know of +one, I give you my place that you may tell it to us. I do not say that +we are bound to believe you on your mere word, but it will assuredly not +make our ears tingle to hear you speak ill of us, since we know what is +the truth." + +"Well, since it is for me to speak," said Dagoucin, "'tis I who will +tell you the tale." + + +[Illustration: 070.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 071a. The Gentleman Mocked by the Ladies When Returning From The False +Tryst] + +[The Gentleman Mocked by the Ladies When Returning From The False Tryst] + +[Illustration: 071.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LVIII._ + + _A gentleman, through putting too much trust in the + truthfulness of a lady whom he had offended by forsaking her + for others just when she was most in love with him, was, by + a false tryst, deceived by her, and bemocked by the whole + Court_. + +At the Court of King Francis the First there was a lady (1) of excellent +wit, who, by her grace, virtue and pleasantness of speech, had won the +hearts of several lovers. With these she right well knew how to pass +the time, but without hurt to her honour, conversing with them in such +pleasant fashion that they knew not what to think, for those who were +the most confident were reduced to despair, whilst those that despaired +the most became hopeful. Nevertheless, while fooling most of them, she +could not help greatly loving one whom she called her cousin, a name +which furnished a pretext for closer fellowship. + + 1 M. de Lincy surmises that Margaret is referring to + herself both here and in the following tale, which concerns + the same lady. His only reason for the supposition, however, + is that the lady's views on certain love matters are akin to + those which the Queen herself professed.--Ed. + +However, as there is nothing in this world of firm continuance, their +friendship often turned to anger and then was renewed in stronger sort +than ever, so that the whole Court could not but be aware of it. + +One day the lady, both to let it be seen that she was wholly void +of passion, and to vex him, for love of whom she had endured much +annoyance, showed him a fairer countenance than ever she had done +before. Thereupon the gentleman, who lacked boldness neither in love nor +in war, began hotly to press the suit that he many a time previously had +addressed to her. + +She, pretending to be wholly vanquished by pity, promised to grant his +request, and told him that she would with this intent go into her room, +which was on a garret floor, where she knew there was nobody. And as +soon as he should see that she was gone he was to follow her without +fail, for he would find her ready to give proof of the good-will that +she bore him. + +The gentleman, believing what she said, was exceedingly well pleased, +and began to amuse himself with the other ladies until he should see +her gone, and might quickly follow her. But she, who lacked naught of +woman's craftiness, betook herself to my Lady Margaret, daughter of the +King, and to the Duchess of Montpensier, (2) to whom she said-- + +"I will if you are willing, show you the fairest diversion you have ever +seen." + + 2 The former is Margaret of France, Duchess of Savoy and + Berry. Born in June 1523, she died in September 1574.-- + Queen Margaret was her godmother. When only three years old, + she was promised in marriage to Louis of Savoy, eldest son + of Duke Charles III., and he dying, she espoused his younger + brother, Emmanuel Philibert, in July 1549. Graceful and + pretty as a child (see _ante_, vol. i. p. xlviii.), she + became, thanks to the instruction of the famous Michael de + l' Hopital, one of the most accomplished women of her time, + and Brantome devotes an article to her in his _Dames + Illustres_ (Lalanne, v. viii. pp. 328-37). See also Hilarion + de Coste's _Eloges et Vies des Reines, Princesses, &c_., + Paris, 1647, vol. ii. p. 278. + + The Duchess of Montpensier, also referred to above, is + Jacqueline de Longwick (now Longwy), Countess of Bar-sur- + Seine, daughter of J. Ch. de Longwick, Lord of Givry, and of + Jane, _batarde_ of Angouleme. In 1538 Jacqueline was + married to Louis II. de Bourbon, Duke of Montpensier. She + gained great influence at the French Court, both under + Francis I. and afterwards, and De Thou says of her that she + was possessed of great wit and wisdom, far superior to the + century in which she lived. She died in August 1561, and was + the mother of Francis I., Duke of Montpensier, sometimes + called the Dauphin of Auvergne, who fought at Jarnac, + Moncontour, Arques, and Ivry, against Henry of Navarre.--L., + B. J. and Ed. + +They, being by no means enamoured of melancholy, begged that she would +tell them what it was. + +"You know such a one," she replied, "as worthy a gentleman as lives, and +as bold. You are aware how many ill turns he has done me, and that, just +when I loved him most, he fell in love with others, and so caused me +more grief than I have ever suffered to be seen. Well, God has now +afforded me the means of taking revenge upon him. + +"I am forthwith going to my own room, which is overhead, and immediately +afterwards, if it pleases you to keep watch, you will see him follow me. +When he has passed the galleries, and is about to go up the stairs, I +pray you come both to the window and help me to cry 'Thief!' You will +then see his rage, which, I am sure, will not become him badly, and, +even if he does not revile me aloud, I am sure he will none the less do +so in his heart." + +This plan was not agreed to without laughter, for there was no gentleman +that tormented the ladies more than he did, whilst he was so greatly +liked and esteemed by all, that for nothing in the world would any one +have run the risk of his raillery. + +It seemed, moreover, to the two Princesses that they would themselves +share in the glory which the other lady looked to win over this +gentleman. + +Accordingly, as soon as they saw the deviser of the plot go out, they +set themselves to observe the gentleman's demeanour. But little time +went by before he shifted his quarters, and, as soon as he had passed +the door, the ladies went out into the gallery, in order that they might +not lose sight of him. + +Suspecting nothing, he wrapped his cloak about his neck, so as to hide +his face, and went down the stairway to the court, but, seeing some one +whom he did not desire to have for witness, he came back by another +way, and then went down into the court a second time. The ladies saw +everything without being perceived by him, and when he reached the +stairway, by which he thought he might safely reach his sweetheart's +chamber, they went to the window, whence they immediately perceived +the other lady, who began crying out 'Thief!' at the top of her voice; +whereupon the two ladies below answered her so loudly that their voices +were heard all over the castle. + +I leave you to imagine with what vexation the gentleman fled to his +lodgings. He was not so well muffled as not to be known by those who +were in the mystery, and they often twitted him with it, as did even +the lady who had done him this ill turn, saying that she had been well +revenged upon him. + +It happened, however, that he was so ready with his replies and evasions +as to make them believe that he had quite suspected the plan, and had +only consented to visit the lady in order to furnish them with some +diversion, for, said he, he would not have taken so much trouble for +her sake, seeing that his love for her had long since flown. The ladies +would not admit the truth of this, so that the point is still in doubt; +nevertheless, it is probable that he believed the lady. And since he +was so wary and so bold that few men of his age and time could match +and none could surpass him (as has been proved by his very brave and +knightly death), (3) you must, it seems to me, confess that men of +honour love in such wise as to be often duped, by placing too much trust +in the truthfulness of the ladies. + + 3 This naturally brings Bonnivet to mind, though of course + the gay, rash admiral was not the only Frenchman of the time + who spent his life in making love and waging war.--Ed. + +"In good faith," said Ennasuite, "I commend this lady for the trick she +played; for when a man is loved by a lady and forsakes her for another, +her vengeance cannot be too severe." + +"Yes," said Parlamente, "if she is loved by him; but there are some who +love men without being certain that they are loved in return, and when +they find that their sweethearts love elsewhere, they call them fickle. +It therefore happens that discreet women are never deceived by such +talk, for they give no heed or belief even to those people who speak +truly, lest they should prove to be liars, seeing that the true and the +false speak but one tongue." + +"If all women were of your opinion," said Simon-tault, "the gentlemen +might pack up their prayers at once; but, for all that you and those +like you may say, we shall never believe that women are as unbelieving +as they are fair. And in this wise we shall live as content as you would +fain render us uneasy by your maxims." + +"Truly," said Longarine, "knowing as I well do who the lady is that +played that fine trick upon the gentleman, it is impossible for me not +to believe in any craftiness on her part. Since she did not spare her +husband, 'twere fitting she should not spare her lover." + +"Her husband, say you?" said Simontault. "You know, then, more than I +do, and so, since you wish it, I give you my place that you may tell us +your opinion of the matter." + +"And since you wish it," said Longarine, "I will do so." + + +[Illustration: 078.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 079a. The Lady discovering her Husband with the Waiting-woman] + +[The Lady discovering her Husband with the Waiting-woman] + +[Illustration: 079.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LIX_. + + _This same lady, finding that her husband took it ill that + she should have lovers with whom she amused herself without + hurt to her honour, kept close watch upon him, and so + discovered how pleasantly he addressed himself to one of her + waiting-women. This woman she gained upon, made her consent + to what her husband solicited, and then surprised him in + such error that to atone for it, he was forced to confess + that he deserved greater punishment than herself; by which + means she was afterwards able to live as her fancy listed_. + +The lady of your story was wedded to a rich gentleman of high and +ancient lineage, and had married him on account of the great affection +that they bore to one another. + +Being a woman most pleasant of speech, she by no means concealed from +her husband that she had lovers whom she made game of for her pastime, +and, at first, her husband shared in her pleasure. But at last this +manner of life became irksome to him, for on the one part he took it ill +that she should hold so much converse with those that were no kinsfolk +or friends of his own, and on the other, he was greatly vexed by the +expense to which he was put in sustaining her magnificence and in +following the Court. + +He therefore withdrew to his own house as often as he was able, but so +much company came thither to see him that the expenses of his household +became scarcely any less, for, wherever his wife might be, she always +found means to pass her time in sports, dances, and all such matters as +youthful dames may use with honour. And when sometimes her husband told +her, laughing, that their expenses were too great, she would reply that +she promised never to make him a "coqu" or cuckold, but only a "coquin," +that is, a beggar; for she was so exceedingly fond of dress, that she +must needs have the bravest and richest at the Court. (1) Her husband +took her thither as seldom as possible, but she did all in her power +to go, and to this end behaved in a most loving fashion towards her +husband, who would not willingly have refused her a much harder request. + + 1 As Queen Margaret was by no means over fond of gorgeous + apparel and display, this passage is in contradiction with + M. de Lincy's surmise that the lady of this and the + preceding tale may be herself. In any case the narrative + could only apply to the period of her first marriage, and + this was in no wise a love-match. Yet we are told at the + outset of the above story that the lady and gentleman had + married on account of the great affection between them. On + the other hand, these details may have been introduced the + better to conceal the identity of the persons referred to.-- + Ed. + +Now one day, when she had found that all her devices could not induce +him to make this journey to the Court, she perceived that he was very +pleasant in manner with a chamber-woman (2) she had, and thereupon +thought she might turn the matter to her own advantage. Taking the girl +apart, she questioned her cleverly, using both wiles and threats, in +such wise that the girl confessed that, ever since she had been in the +house, not a day had passed on which her master had not sought her love; +but (she added) she would rather die than do aught against God and her +honour, more especially after the honour which the lady had done her in +taking her into her service, for this would make such wickedness twice +as great. + + 2 The French expression here is _femme de chambre a + chaperon_. The _chaperon_ in this instance was a cap with a + band of velvet worn across it as a sign of gentle and even + noble birth. The attendant referred to above would therefore + probably be a young woman of good descent, constrained by + circumstances to enter domestic service.--B. J. and Ed. + +On hearing of her husband's unfaithfulness, the lady immediately felt +both grief and joy. Her grief was that her husband, despite all his show +of loving her, should be secretly striving to put her to so much shame +in her own household, and this when she believed herself far more +beautiful and graceful than the woman whom he sought in her stead. +But she rejoiced to think that she might surprise her husband in such +manifest error that he would no longer be able to reproach her with her +lovers, nor with her desire to dwell at Court; and, to bring this about, +she begged the girl gradually to grant her husband what he sought upon +certain conditions that she made known to her. + +The girl was minded to make some difficulty, but when her mistress +warranted the safety both of her life and of her honour, she consented +to do whatever might be her pleasure. + +The gentleman, on continuing his pursuit of the girl, found her +countenance quite changed towards him, and therefore urged his suit more +eagerly than had been his wont; but she, knowing by heart the part +she had to play, made objection of her poverty, and said that, if she +complied with his desire, she would be turned away by her mistress, in +whose service she looked to gain a good husband. + +The gentleman forthwith replied that she need give no thought to any +such matters, since he would bestow her in marriage more profitably than +her mistress would be able to do, and further, would contrive the matter +so secretly that none would know of it. + +Upon this they came to an agreement, and, on considering what place +would be most suited for such a fine business, the girl said that she +knew of none better or more remote from suspicion than a cottage in the +park, where there was a chamber and a bed suitable for the occasion. + +The gentleman, who would not have thought any place unsuitable, was +content with the one she named, and was very impatient for the appointed +day and hour to come. + +The girl kept her word to her mistress, and told her in full the whole +story of the plan, and how it was to be put into execution on the morrow +after dinner. She would not fail, said she, to give a sign when the time +came to go to the cottage, and she begged her mistress to be watchful, +and in no wise fail to be present at the appointed hour, in order to +save her from the danger into which her obedience was leading her. + +This her mistress swore, begging her to be without fear, and promising +that she would never forsake her, but would protect her from her +husband's wrath. + +When the morrow was come and dinner was over, the gentleman was more +pleasant with his wife than ever, and although this was not very +agreeable to her, she dissembled so well that he did not perceive the +truth. + +After dinner she asked him how he was minded to pass away the time, and +he answered that he knew of nothing better than to play at "cent." (3) +Forthwith everything was made ready for the game, but the lady pretended +that she did not care to take part in it, and would find diversion +enough in looking at the players. + + 3 This is probably a reference to the card game now called + piquet, usually played for a hundred points. It is one of + the oldest of its kind. See Rabelais' _Gargantua_, book i. + chap, xxii.--L. + +Just before he sat down to play, the gentleman failed not to ask the +girl to remember her promise to him, and while he was playing she passed +through the room, making a sign to her mistress which signified that +she was about to set out on the pilgrimage she had to make. The sign was +clearly seen by the lady, but her husband perceived nothing of it. + +An hour later, however, one of his servants made him a sign from a +distance, whereupon he told his wife that his head ached somewhat, and +that he must needs rest and take the air. She, knowing the nature of his +sickness as well as he did himself, asked him whether she should play +in his stead, and he consented, saying that he would very soon return. +However, she assured him that she could take his place for a couple of +hours without weariness. + +So the gentleman withdrew to his room, and thence by an alley into his +park. + +The lady, who knew another and shorter way, waited for a little while, +and then, suddenly feigning to be seized with colic, gave her hand at +play to another. + +As soon as she was out of the room, she put off her high-heeled shoes +and ran as quickly as she could to the place, where she had no desire +that the bargain should be struck without her. And so speedily did she +arrive, that, when she entered the room by another door, her husband was +but just come in. Then, hiding herself behind the door, she listened to +the fair and honest discourse that he held to her maid. But when she +saw that he was coming near to the criminal point, she seized him from +behind, saying-- + +"Nay, I am too near that you should take another." + +It is needless to ask whether the gentleman was in extreme wrath, both +at being balked of the delight he had looked to obtain, and at having +his wife, whose affection he now greatly feared to lose for ever, know +more of him than he desired. He thought, however, that the plot had been +contrived by the girl, and (without speaking to his wife) he ran after +her with such fury that, had not his wife rescued her from his hands, +he would have killed her. He declared that she was the wickedest jade +he had ever known, and that, if his wife had waited to see the end, she +would have found that he was only mocking her, for, instead of doing +what she expected, he would have chastised her with rods. + +But his wife, knowing what words of the sort were worth, set no value +upon them, and addressed such reproaches to him that he was in great +fear lest she should leave him. He promised her all that she asked, +and, after her sage reproaches, confessed that it was wrong of him to +complain that she had lovers; since a fair and honourable woman is none +the less virtuous for being loved, provided that she do or say nothing +contrary to her honour; whereas a man deserves heavy punishment when he +is at pains to pursue a woman that loves him not, to the wronging of +his wife and his own conscience. He would therefore, said he, never more +prevent his wife from going to Court, nor take it ill that she should +have lovers, for he knew that she spoke with them more in jest than in +affection. + +This talk was not displeasing to the lady, for it seemed to her that +she had gained an important point. Nevertheless she spoke quite to the +contrary, pretending that she had no delight in going to Court, since +she no longer possessed his love, without which all assemblies were +displeasing to her; and saying that a woman who was truly loved by her +husband, and who loved him in return, as she did, carried with her a +safe-conduct that permitted her to speak with one and all, and to be +derided by none. + +The poor gentleman was at so much pains to assure her of the love he +bore her, that at last they left the place good friends. That they might +not again fall into such trouble, he begged her to turn away the girl +through whom he had undergone so much distress. This she did, but did it +by bestowing her well and honourably in marriage, and at her husband's +expense. + +And, to make the lady altogether forget his folly, the gentleman soon +took her to Court, in such style and so magnificently arrayed that she +had good reason to be content. + +"This, ladies, was what made me say I did not find the trick she played +upon one of her lovers a strange one, knowing, as I did, the trick she +had played upon her husband." + +"You have described to us a very cunning wife and a very stupid +husband," said Hircan. "Having advanced so far, he ought not to have +come to a standstill and stopped on so fair a road." + +"And what should he have done?" said Longarine. + +"What he had taken in hand to do," said Hircan, "for his wife was no +less wrathful with him for his intention to do evil than she would have +been had he carried the evil into execution. Perchance, indeed, she +would have respected him more if she had seen that he was a bolder +gallant." + +"That is all very well," said Ennasuite, "but where will you find a man +to face two women at once? His wife would have defended her rights and +the girl her virginity." + +"True," said Hircan, "but a strong bold man does not fear to assail two +that are weak, nor will he ever fail to vanquish them." + +"I readily understand," said Ennasuite, "that if he had drawn his sword +he might have killed them both, but otherwise I cannot see that he had +any means of escape. I pray you, therefore, tell us what you would have +done?" + +"I should have taken my wife in my arms," said Hircan, "and have carried +her out. Then I should have had my own way with her maid by love or by +force." + +"'Tis enough, Hircan," said Parlamente, "that you know how to do evil." + +"I am sure, Parlamente," he replied, "that I do not scandalise the +innocence in whose presence I speak, and by what I have said I do not +mean that I support a wicked deed. But I wonder at the attempt, which +was in itself worthless, and at the attempter, who, for fear rather than +for love of his wife, failed to complete it. I praise a man who loves +his wife as God ordains; but when he does not love her, I think little +of him for fearing her." + +"Truly," replied Parlamente, "if love did not render you a good husband, +I should make small account of what you might do through fear." + +"You are quite safe, Parlamente," said Hircan, "for the love I bear you +makes me more obedient than could the fear of either death or hell." + +"You may say what you please," said Parlamente, "but I have reason to be +content with what I have seen and known of you. As for what I have not +seen, I have never wished to make guess or still less inquiry." + +"I think it great folly," said Nomerfide, "for women to inquire so +curiously concerning their husbands, or husbands concerning their wives. +Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, without giving so much heed +to the morrow." + +"Yet it is sometimes needful," said Oisille, "to inquire into matters +that may touch the honour of a house in order to set them right, though +not to pass evil judgment upon persons, seeing that there is none who +does not fail." + +"Many," said Geburon, "have at divers times fallen into trouble for lack +of well and carefully inquiring into the errors of their wives." + +"I pray you," said Longarine, "if you know any such instance, do not +keep it from us." + +"I do indeed know one," said Geburon, "and since you so desire, I will +relate it." + + +[Illustration: 090.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 091a. The Chanter of Blois delivering his Mistress from the Grave] + +[The Chanter of Blois delivering his Mistress from the Grave] + +[Illustration: 091.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LX_. + + _A man of Paris, through not making good inquiry concerning + his wife, whom he believed dead, though she was indeed + making good cheer with a chanter to the King, married a + second wife, whom, after having several children by her and + consorting with her for fourteen or fifteen years, he was + constrained to leave, in order to take his first wife back + again_. + +In the city of Paris there was a man who was so good-natured that he +would have scrupled to believe a man abed with his wife, even if he had +seen him with his own eyes. This poor man married a woman whose conduct +was as bad as could be; nevertheless he perceived nothing of it, and +treated her as though she were the most virtuous woman alive. One +day, however, when King Louis XII. came to Paris, his wife surrendered +herself to one of the choir-men of the aforesaid sovereign, and when she +found that the King was leaving Paris and that she would no longer +be able to see the singer, she resolved to follow him and forsake her +husband. To this the chanter agreed, and brought her to a house that he +had near Blois, (1) where for a long while they lived together. The poor +husband, finding that he had lost his wife, sought her everywhere; and +at last it was told him that she was gone away with the chanter. + +Wishing to recover the lost ewe which he had so badly watched, he wrote +many letters to her begging her to return to him, and saying that he +would take her back if she were willing to be a virtuous woman. But she +took such great delight in listening to the songs of the chanter, that +she had forgotten her husband's voice, and gave no heed to all his +excellent words, but mocked at them. + +Therefore the husband, in great wrath, gave her to know that, since +she would return to him in no other way, he would demand her in legal +fashion of the Church. (2) The wife, dreading that if the law should +take the matter in hand she and her chanter would fare badly, devised a +stratagem worthy of such a woman as herself. Feigning sickness, she sent +for some honourable women of the town to come and see her, and this they +willingly did, hoping that her illness might be a means of withdrawing +her from her evil life, with which purpose they addressed the sagest +admonitions to her. Thereupon she, whilst pretending to be grievously +sick, made a show of weeping and acknowledging her sinfulness in such +sort that she gained the pity of the whole company, who quite believed +that she was speaking from the bottom of her heart. And, finding her +thus subdued and sorry, they began to comfort her, telling her that God +was in no wise so terrible as many preachers represented Him, and that +He would never refuse to show her mercy. + + 1 Louis XII.'s favourite place of residence.--Ed. + + 2 Implying the Officialite or episcopal court.--B. J. + +After this excellent discourse, they sent for a virtuous man to come +and confess her, and on the morrow the priest of the parish came to +administer the Holy Sacrament. This she received so piously, that +all the virtuous women of the town who were present wept to see her +devoutness, praising God, who of His goodness had in this wise shown +compassion upon this poor creature. + +Afterwards she pretended that she could no longer take food, whereupon +the extreme unction was brought by the priest and received by her with +many pious signs; for (as they thought) she was scarcely able to speak. +She continued thus for a great while, and it seemed as though she were +gradually losing her sight, hearing and other senses, whereat there came +from all a cry of "Jesus!" As night was at hand and the ladies were far +from home, they all withdrew; and just as they were leaving the house it +was told them that she was dead, whereupon, saying their _De profundis_ +for her, they returned to their houses. + +The priest asked the chanter where he would have her buried, and the +other replied that she had desired to be buried in the cemetery, +and that it would be well to bring her there at night. So the poor +unfortunate was shrouded by a serving-woman, who was careful not to hurt +her, and then by brave torchlight she was carried to the grave that the +chanter had caused to be made. + +When the body passed in front of the houses of those who had been +present when she received the extreme unction, they all came forth +and followed her to the tomb; and there she was soon left by women and +priests alike. The chanter, however, did not go away, but, as soon as he +saw the company some distance off, he and the serving-woman opened the +grave wherein was his sweetheart more alive than ever, and he sent her +secretly to his house, where for a long time he kept her concealed. + +The husband, who was in pursuit of her, came as far as Blois to demand +justice, when he found that she was dead and buried according to the +testimony of all the ladies of Blois. They told him, too, what a good +end she had made, and the worthy man was rejoiced to think that his +wife's soul was in Paradise, and himself rid of her wicked body. + +In this wise well content, he betook himself back to Paris, where he +married a beautiful and virtuous young woman, and a good housewife, by +whom he had several children, and with whom he lived for fourteen or +fifteen years. But at last rumour, which can keep nothing hid, advised +him that his wife was not dead, but was still dwelling with the wicked +chanter. The poor man concealed the matter as well as he was able, +pretending to know nothing about it, and hoping that it was a lie. But +his wife, who was a discreet woman, was told of it, and such was her +anguish at the tidings that she was like to die of grief. Had it been +possible without offence to her conscience, she would gladly have +concealed her misfortune, but it was not possible. The Church +immediately took the affair in hand, and first of all separated them +from each other until the truth of the matter should be known. + +Then was this poor man obliged to leave the good and go after the bad, +and in this wise he came to Blois shortly after Francis the First had +become king. Here he found Queen Claude and my Lady the Regent, (3) to +whom he made his complaint, asking for her whom he would gladly not have +found, but whom, to the great compassion of the whole company, he was +now obliged to see. + + 3 This shows that the incidents of the tale occurred in the + summer or autumn of 1515, when Francis I. was absent in + Italy conducting the campaign which resulted in the victory + of Marignano and the surrender of Milan.--Ed. + +When his wife was brought before him, she strove for a long while to +maintain that he was not her husband, which he would willingly have +believed had he been able. More disappointed than abashed, she told him +that she would rather die than go back with him, and at this he was well +pleased; but the ladies in whose presence she spoke in this unseemly +fashion condemned her to return, and so rated the chanter with many a +threat, that he was obliged to tell his ugly sweetheart to go back with +her husband, and to declare that he himself would never see her more. + +Rejected thus on all sides, the poor unfortunate withdrew to a home in +which she was fated to meet with better treatment from her husband than +she had deserved. + +"You see, ladies, why I say that if the poor husband had been more +watchful over his wife, he would not thus have lost her. A thing that is +well guarded is difficult to lose, but heedlessness makes the thief." + +"'Tis a strange thing," said Hircan, "how strong love is just where it +seems most unreasonable." + +"I have heard," said Simontault, "that it were easier to break two +marriages than to sunder the love of a priest and his serving-maid." + +"I believe it," said Ennasuite; "for those who bind others together in +marriage, are so well able to tie the knot that nought but death can +destroy it. Theologians, moreover, hold that spiritual language is of +more effect than any other, and in consequence spiritual love surpasses +any other kind." + +"It is a thing that I cannot forgive in ladies," said Dagoucin, "when +they forsake an honourable husband or a lover for a priest, however +handsome and worthy the latter may be." + +"I pray you, Dagoucin," said Hircan, "intermeddle not with our Holy +Mother Church. Be assured that 'tis a great delight for timorous and +secret-loving women to sin with those who can absolve them; for there +are some who are more ashamed to confess a thing than to do it." + +"You speak," said Oisille, "of those who have no knowledge of God, and +who think not that secret matters are one day revealed in presence of +the Company of Heaven. But I think that it is not for confession's sake +that they go after confessors; for the Enemy has so blinded them that +they are more concerned to attach themselves where they think there is +most concealment and security, than anxious to obtain absolution for the +wickedness of which they do not repent." + +"Repent, say you?" said Saffredent. "Nay, they deem themselves holier +than other women. I am sure that there are some who deem it honourable +in themselves that they are constant in such love." + +"You speak in such a manner," said Oisille to Saffredent, "that I think +you know of some one of that kind. I pray you, therefore, begin the Day +tomorrow by telling us what you know. But now the last bell for vespers +is already ringing; for our friends the monks went off as soon as they +had heard the tenth tale, and left us to finish our discussions among +ourselves." + +At these words they all rose and came to the church, where they found +the monks awaiting them. Then, after hearing vespers, they all supped +together, talking the while of many excellent stories. After supper they +went, according to their wont, to disport themselves somewhat in the +meadow, and then retired to rest, in order that their memories might be +the sounder on the morrow. + + +[Illustration: 099.jpg Tailpiece] + + + + +SEVENTH DAY. + +_On the Seventh Day relation is made of such as have done quite contrary +to their duty or desire_. + + + + +PROLOGUE. + +In the morning the Lady Oisille failed not to administer to them +wholesome nutriment, which she did by reading of the acts and virtuous +deeds of the glorious knights and apostles of Jesus Christ, as related +by St. Luke, telling them withal that these relations should suffice to +make them long for the return of such a time, and to make them weep +for the uncomeliness of this age as compared with that. When she had +sufficiently read and expounded to them the beginning of this excellent +book, she begged them to go to the church in such union as that in which +the Apostles were wont to pray, seeking of God the mercy which is never +refused to those who ask for it in faith. Her counsel was approved by +all, and they came to the church just as the Mass of the Holy Spirit +was beginning; this seemed to them very apt to the occasion, and they +hearkened to the service in great devotion. + +Afterwards they went to dinner, where they called to mind the apostolic +life, and took such great delight in it that it was as though their +undertaking had been forgotten. But Nomerfide, who was the youngest, +noticed this, and said, "The Lady Oisille has made us so devout that we +are letting slip the hour at which we are wont to withdraw, in order to +make ready for the relating of our tales." + +Her words caused the whole company to rise, and, after they had been for +a while in their rooms, they failed not to repair to the meadow as on +the day before. When they were seated at their ease, the Lady Oisille +said to Saffredent, "Although I am certain that you will say nothing to +the advantage of women, yet I must call upon you to tell the tale that +you had in readiness yester evening." + +"I protest, madam," replied Saffredent, "against winning the repute of +a slanderer through telling the truth, or losing the favour of virtuous +ladies through relating the deeds of the wanton. I have felt what it is +to lack their presence, and had I equally lacked their fair favours, I +had not been alive to-day." + +So saying, he turned his eyes away from her who was the cause of his +happiness and of his woe; and, looking upon Ennasuite, caused her to +blush as deeply as though his words had been directed to her. Yet was he +none the less understood by her whom he desired should understand him. +The Lady Oisille then assured him that he might freely speak the truth +at the cost of any person concerned; whereupon he thus began:-- + + +[Illustration: 105a. The Lady returning to her Lover, the Canon of Autun] + +[The Lady returning to her Lover, the Canon of Autun] + +[Illustration: 105.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXI_. + + _A husband is reconciled with his wife after she had lived + during fourteen or fifteen years with a Canon of Autun_. + +Near the town of Autun there lived a very beautiful woman, who was +tall, fair, and as handsome of feature as any I have ever seen. She was +married to an honest man who seemed somewhat younger than herself, and +who loved and treated her well enough to give her reason for content. + +A little while after they were married, he took her to the town of +Autun, where he had business; and while he was engaged with the law, his +wife would go to the church to pray God for him. + +She repaired so often to this holy place that a very rich Canon fell in +love with her, and wooed her so urgently that the unhappy creature gave +herself up to him. Her husband had no suspicion of this, however, for he +gave more thought to the guarding of his property than of his wife. + +When the time for departure was come, and they must needs return to +their home, which was full seven leagues from the town, great was the +woman's sorrow. But the Canon promised that he would often go and see +her, and this he did, pretending to be making some journey which led +him past the house. The gentleman, however, was not so foolish as not to +perceive the truth, and he so skilfully contrived matters, that when the +Canon came thither he no longer met the wife, who was too well hidden +by her husband to allow of his having any speech with her. The wife, +knowing her husband's jealousy, gave no sign that this was displeasing +to her; nevertheless, she resolved to set things to rights, for she felt +herself as it were in hell, deprived as she was of the sight of her God. + +One day, when her husband was abroad, she found a means to occupy her +servants, both men and women, after such a fashion that she was left +alone in the house. Immediately, she took what was needful, and, with no +company save that of the wanton love she carried with her, she repaired +on foot to Autun. Here she arrived none too late to be recognised by her +Canon, who kept her shut up in hiding for more than a year, and this in +spite of the monitions and excommunications that were procured against +him by her husband. + +The latter, finding that he had no other remedy, at last complained to +the Bishop, who had an Archdeacon, as worthy a man as any at that time +in France. This Archdeacon himself searched with great diligence through +all the Canon's houses, until he discovered the one in which the woman +was being kept in concealment, whereupon he cast her into prison, and +laid heavy penance upon the Canon. + +The husband, knowing that his wife had been recovered by the counsels of +the Archdeacon and divers other excellent persons, was content to take +her back on her swearing to him that she would live for the future as +beseemed a virtuous woman. + +This the worthy man in his deep love for her readily believed, and, +bringing her back to his house, he treated her as honourably as before, +except that he gave her two old serving-women who never left her, one or +other of them being at all times with her. + +But, however kindly her husband might use her, the wicked love she bore +towards the Canon caused her to regard all rest as torment. And although +she was a very beautiful woman and her husband a man of excellent +constitution, vigorous and strong, she never had any children by him, +her heart being always seven leagues away from her body; this, however, +she concealed so well that it seemed to her husband that, like himself, +she had wholly forgotten the past. + +But in her great wickedness she was not so minded; for, just when she +saw her husband most in love with her and having least suspicion, she +pretended to fall ill, and continued in this pretence until her husband +was in wondrous distress, and anxious to spare nought that might relieve +her. + +However, she played her part so exceedingly well that he, and all in the +house, thought that she was sick unto death, and was growing by degrees +weaker and weaker. Finding that her husband was no less grieved than he +should have been glad, she begged of him that he would authorise her to +make her will, and this with tears he did. + +Having power of bequest, although she had no children, she gave to her +husband what she could, craving at the same time his forgiveness for +her wrong-doing towards him. Then she sent for the priest, confessed +herself, and received the Holy Sacrament of the Altar with such +devoutness, that all wept to see so glorious an end. + +When the evening was come, she begged her husband to send for the +extreme unction, saying that, as she was growing very weak, she was in +fear lest she might not live to receive it. Her husband in all haste +caused it to be brought by the priest, and she, by receiving it with +very great humility, prompted every one to praise her. + +After she had got through her brave mysteries, she told her husband +that, having through God's grace received all that the Church commands, +she felt great peace of conscience, and would fain take some rest; and +she begged him to do the like, seeing that he had great need of it after +all his weeping and watching with her. + +When her husband was gone, and all his servants with him, the poor old +women, who had so long watched her in health and now had no fear of +losing her except by death, went contentedly and comfortably to bed. As +soon as she heard them asleep and loudly snoring, she rose in nothing +but her shift, and went out of the room, listening to hear if any one +was yet astir in the house. Taking every precaution, she then (as she +well knew how) let herself out through a little garden-gate that was not +shut, and, barefooted and in her shift, journeyed all night long towards +Autun and the saint, who had preserved her from death. + +It happened, however, that as the distance was great, she could not +accomplish the whole of it before daylight overtook her. Looking then +all along the road, she perceived two horsemen who were galloping at +full speed, and thinking that it might be her husband in search of her, +she hid herself entirely in a marsh, with her head among the reeds. +As her husband (for he it was) passed close beside her, he spoke to a +servant who was with him, in tones of deep despair, saying-- + +"Ah, the wicked woman! Who could have thought that so foul and +abominable a deed could be hidden under cloak of the holy sacraments of +the Church." + +"If Judas," replied the servant, "feared not to betray his Master when +he was receiving the like, a woman's treachery is but small matter for +wonder." + +At this point the husband passed on, and his wife remained among the +rushes, in greater gladness at having deceived and escaped him than she +had ever felt at home in a good bed but in subjection. + +The poor husband sought her through all the town of Autun, but learning +for certain that she had not entered it, he retraced his steps, +complaining unceasingly of her and of his loss, and threatening her with +nothing short of death if he should find her. Of this she had as little +fear in her mind as she had of cold in her body, although the place and +season might well have caused her to repent of her evil journey. And any +one who did not know how the fire of hell inflames those that are filled +with it, must needs wonder how it was that this unhappy woman could so +leave a warm bed and continue for a whole day in the piercing cold. + +Yet she neither lost courage nor gave up the journey, but, as soon as +night was come, went forward once more. Just as the gate at Autun was +being closed, this pilgrim arrived thither and repaired straight to the +shrine of her saint, who was in great wonder at her coming, and could +scarcely believe that it was indeed she. But when he had carefully +looked at her and examined her at all points, he found that, unlike +a spirit, she was really possessed of bone and flesh, and so became +convinced that she was no ghost. + +And thenceforward they agreed so well together that she dwelt with the +Canon for fourteen or fifteen years. + +Although for a time she lived in concealment, in the end she lost all +fear, and (what is worse) became so exceedingly proud of her lover that +at church she would set herself before most of the honourable women of +the town, wives of officials and others. Moreover, she had children +by the Canon, and among others a daughter who was married to a rich +merchant, and who had so magnificent a wedding that all the women of +the town murmured exceedingly, yet were powerless to set the affair to +rights. + +Now it happened that at this time Queen Claude, wife of King Francis, +passed through the town of Autun, having with her my Lady the Regent, +mother of the King aforesaid, and the Duchess of Alencon, her daughter. +(1) One of the Queen's waiting-women, named Perrette, came to the +Duchess and said-- + +"Madam, I pray you listen to me, and you will do a better deed than if +you went to hear the whole day's service at the church." + + 1 This would have occurred in the late autumn of 1515, when + the Court journeyed southward to meet Francis I. on his + return from the Marignano campaign.--Ed. + +The Duchess gave ready heed, knowing that nought but good counsel could +come from her. Then Perrette forthwith told her how she had taken a +young girl to help her in washing the Queen's linen, and how, on asking +the news of the town, she had heard from her the vexation which all the +honourable women endured at seeing the Canon's mistress go before them, +together with some of the history of the wicked woman's life. + +The Duchess went immediately to the Queen and my Lady the Regent, and +told them the story; and they, without any form of law, sent for the +unhappy woman. The latter sought no concealment, for her shame was +turned to pride at being mistress in the household of so rich a man; and +hence, with no feeling of confusion or disgrace, she presented herself +before the ladies aforesaid, who were so abashed by her hardihood that +at first they knew not what to say. After a time, however, my Lady the +Regent rebuked her in a fashion which would have made a right-thinking +woman weep, though this unhappy creature did not do so, but with great +boldness said-- + +"I pray you, ladies, let my honour go unscathed, for, God be praised, +I have lived so well and virtuously with the Canon that no person alive +can say aught against me. And let it not be thought that I am living in +opposition to the will of God, since, for three years past, the Canon +has not come near me, and we live together as chastely and as lovingly +as two little angels, without any speech or wish between us to the +contrary. And any one separating us will commit a great sin, for the +worthy man, who is nigh eighty years old, will not live long without me, +who am forty-five." + +You may imagine how the ladies then comported themselves, and what +remonstrance they all made with her; but, in spite of the words that +were spoken, and her own age, and the honourable indignation of those +present, her obstinacy was not softened. That she might be the more +effectually humbled, they sent for the good Archdeacon of Autun, and he +condemned her to lie in prison for a year, faring on bread and water. +The ladies further sent for her husband, and he, after hearing their +excellent exhortations, was content to take her back again after she +should have performed her penance. + +But when she found that she was a prisoner, and that the Canon was +resolved to have her back no more, she thanked the ladies for having +taken a devil off her shoulders, and showed such deep and perfect +contrition that her husband, instead of waiting until the year should +have expired, came and asked her of the Archdeacon before a fortnight +was over; and since then they have lived together in all peace and +affection. + +"You see, ladies, how the chains of St. Peter are by wicked ministers +converted into those of Satan, which it is so hard to break that even +the sacraments, which cast out devils from the body, are here the means +of making them abide longer in the conscience; for the best things, when +abused, bring about most evil." + +"Truly," said Oisille, "this woman was a very wicked one, but at the +same time she was well punished by her appearance before such judges as +the ladies you have named. The mere glance of the Lady Regent had such +power that never was there a woman, however virtuous, that did not dread +being found unworthy in her sight. Those who were looked upon kindly by +her deemed that they had earned a high honour, knowing as they did that +none but virtuous women were favoured by her." (2) + + 2 We are asked to believe that Oisille is none other than + the Lady Regent (Louise of Savoy), but is it likely she + would thus speak of herself? We can scarcely conceive Queen + Margaret perpetrating such a flagrant anachronism.--Ed. + +"It were indeed a fine thing," said Hircan, "that there should be +greater dread of a woman's eyes than of the Holy Sacrament, which, if it +be not received in faith and charity, brings with it eternal damnation." + +"Those," said Parlamente, "who are not inspired by God are, I promise +you, in greater dread of the temporal than of the spiritual powers. And +I believe that the poor creature was brought to mend her ways rather by +her imprisonment and the thought of seeing her Canon no more, than by +any remonstrance that might have been made to her." + +"Nay," said Simontault, "you have forgotten the chief cause of her +return to her husband, which was that the Canon was eighty years old, +whilst her husband was younger than herself; so the worthy lady had the +best of all her bargains. Had the Canon been young, she would not have +been willing to forsake him, and the admonitions of the ladies would +have been as ineffectual as the sacraments." + +"Further," said Nomerfide, "I think she did well not to confess her sin +so readily; such an offence ought to be humbly acknowledged to God, but +stoutly denied before men. Even though it be true, still, by deception +and swearing, doubt may be cast upon it." + +"Not so," said Longarine. "A sin can scarcely be so secret that it will +not become revealed, unless God in His pity conceal it, as in the case +of those who for love of Himself have truly repented." + +"And what," said Hircan, "will you say of those women who have no sooner +done a deed of folly than they tell some one about it?" + +"I think that a strange thing," answered Longarine, "and a sign that sin +is not displeasing to them. If, as I said, a sin is not covered by +the mercy of God, it cannot be denied before men; there are many who, +delighting in such talk, glory to make their vices known, whilst others +who contradict themselves in this way become their own accusers." + +"If you know any such instance," said Saffredent, "I give you my place +and beg you to tell it us." + +"Listen then," said Longarine. + + +[Illustration: 117.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 119a. The Gentleman's Spur catching in the Sheet] + +[The Gentleman's Spur catching in the Sheet] + +[Illustration: 119.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXII_. + + _A lady's tongue tripped so awkwardly whilst she was telling + a story, as if of another, to a dame of high degree, that + her honour thenceforward bore a stain which she could never + remove_. + +In the time of King Francis the First there lived a lady of the blood +royal, who was endowed with honour, virtue and beauty, and well knew how +to tell a story with grace and to laugh at such as might be told to +her. (1) This lady being at one of her houses, all her subjects and +neighbours came to see her; for she was as much liked as it were +possible for woman to be. + + 1 M. de Lincy thinks that this lady may be Louise of Savoy, + who was very fond of listening to stories of an equivocal + character. This, it may be pointed out, is one of the + reasons why the commentators of the _Heptameron_ suppose her + to be Oisille, though the latter in the conversational + passages following the tales displays considerable prudery + and devoutness. That Louise was a woman of extremely amorous + tendency is well known; we need, indeed, no better proof of + it than her unseemly passion for the Constable de Bourbon + when she was five-and-forty years of age. If she be the lady + of royal blood spoken of above, the incidents of the tale + may have occurred in the Bourbonnais, a considerable portion + of which passed into her hands after the flight of the + Constable from France. It will be noted that allusion is + made to the lady's subjects, showing that she exercised a + feudal sway. As one of the commentators of the _Heptameron_ + has pointed out, Queen Margaret always saw her mother--that + "donna terribilissima!" as De Lussy called her--in such an + ideal light that M. de Lincy's surmise may well be a correct + one despite the attributes of honour, virtue and beauty + bestowed on the lady whom she speaks of.--Ed. + +Among others there came a lady who hearkened whilst the rest told every +story they could think of in order to amuse the Princess. This lady then +resolved that she would not be behind the others, and accordingly said-- + +"Madam, I will tell you a fine story, but you must promise me not to +speak of it." + +Then she forthwith continued-- + +"The story, madam, is on my conscience a perfectly true one, and +concerns a married lady who lived in all honour with her husband, +although he was old and she was young. A gentleman who was her +neighbour, seeing her married to this old man, fell in love with her, +and importuned her for several years; but never received of her any +reply save such as a virtuous woman should make. One day the gentleman +bethought him that if he could take her at a disadvantage she might +perchance be less harsh towards him, and, after he had for a long while +weighed the danger that he might run, his love for the lady wholly +banished his fears, and he resolved to find a time and place. He kept +excellent watch, and so one morning, when the lady's husband was going +to another of his houses, and leaving at daybreak by reason of the heat, +the young gallant came to the house, where he found the lady asleep in +her bed, and perceived that the serving-women were gone out of the room. + +"Then, without having sense enough to fasten the door, he got into the +lady's bed all booted and spurred as he was, and when she awoke, she was +as distressed as she could possibly be. But in spite of any remonstrance +that she could make to him, he took her by force, saying that if she +should make the matter known he would tell every one that she had sent +for him; and at this the lady was so greatly afraid that she durst not +cry out. Afterwards, on some of her women coming in, he rose in haste +and would have been perceived by none if his spur, which had become +fastened in the upper sheet, had not drawn it right off, leaving the +lady quite naked in her bed." + +So far the lady had told the story as if of another, but at the end she +involuntarily said-- + +"Never was a woman so confounded as I was, when I found myself lying +quite naked." + +At these last words the lady, who had hitherto hearkened to the story +without laughing, could not refrain from doing so, and said-- + +"By what I can see, you are well qualified to tell the tale." + +The poor lady tried in every possible way to clear her honour, but it +was already flown so far away that she was never able to recall it. + +"I assure you, ladies, that had she felt any deep displeasure in doing +such a deed, she would have desired to forget it. But, as I have told +you, sin will of itself be discovered before it could otherwise be +known, unless it be hidden by the mantle which, as David says, makes man +blessed." + +"In good sooth," said Ennasuite, "she was the greatest fool I have ever +heard of, to make the others laugh at her own expense." + +"I do not deem it strange," said Parlamente, "that the word should +follow the deed, for it is easier to say than to do." + +"Why," said Geburon, "what sin had she committed? She was asleep in her +bed, he threatened her with shame and death; Lucrece, who is so highly +praised, did just the same." + +"That is true," said Parlamente, "and I confess that there is none too +righteous to fall. But when one has felt great offence in the deed, the +same holds good of the recollection; and whereas Lucrece to efface the +latter killed herself, this foolish woman tried to make others laugh." + +"Nevertheless," said Nomerfide, "it seems that she was a virtuous woman, +seeing that she had been many times entreated but would never consent, +so that the gentleman must needs resort to treachery and force in order +to wrong her." + +"What!" said Parlamente. "Do you think that a woman has answered for +her honour, when she gives herself up after refusing two or three times? +There would then be many virtuous women among those that are deemed the +opposite, for many of them have been known to refuse for a long while +those to whom their hearts had been given, some doing this through fear +for their honour, and others in order to make themselves still more +ardently loved and esteemed. No account, therefore, should be made of a +woman unless she stands firm to the end. But if a man refuse a beautiful +girl, do you regard that as great virtue?" + +"Truly," said Oisille, "if a young and lusty man so refused, I should +hold it worthy of high praise, but none the less difficult of belief." + +"Yet," said Dagoucin, "I know one who refused to partake in amours that +were sought after by all his comrades." + +"I pray you," said Longarine, "take my place and tell us the tale, yet +remember that you must here utter the truth." + +"I promise you," said Dagoucin, "that I will tell it in all its +simplicity, without any colouring or disguise." + + +[Illustration: 124.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 125a. The King asking the Young Lord to join his Banquet] + +[The King asking the Young Lord to join his Banquet] + +[Illustration: 125.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXIII_. + + _A gentleman's refusal of an amour that was sought after by + all his comrades, was imputed to him as great virtue, and + his wife loved him and esteemed him in consequence far more + than before_. (1) + +In the city of Paris there lived four girls, of whom two were sisters, +and such was their beauty, youth and freshness, that they were run after +by all the gallants. A gentleman, however, who at that time held the +office of Provost of Paris (2) from the King, seeing that his master was +young, of an age to desire such company, so cleverly contrived matters +with all four of the damsels that each, thinking herself intended for +the King, agreed to what the aforesaid Provost desired. This was that +they should all of them be present at a feast to which he invited his +master. + + 1 This story, omitted by Boaistuau, was included in + Gruget's edition of the _Heptameron_.--L. + + 2 This is John de la Barre, already alluded to in Tale I. + The _Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris_ tells us that he was + born in Paris of poor parents, and became a favourite of + Francis I., who appointed him Bailiff of the capital, + without requiring him to pay any of the dues attaching to + the office. From the roll of the royal household for 1522, + we also find that he was then a gentleman of the bed chamber + with 1200 _livres_ salary, master of the wardrobe (a post + worth 200 _livres_) and governor of the pages, for the board + and clothing of whom he received 5000 _livres_ annually. In + 1526 he became Provost as well as Bailiff of Paris, the two + offices then being amalgamated. He was further created Count + of Etampes, and acquired the lordship of Veretz, best + remembered by its associations with the murder of Paul Louis + Courier. La Barre fought at Pavia, was taken prisoner with + the King, and remained his constant companion during his + captivity. Several letters of his, dating from this period + and of great historical interest, are still extant; some of + them have been published by Champollion-Figeac (_Captivite + de Francois Ier_) and Genin (_Lettres de Marguerite, &c_). + Under date 1533 (o. s.) the "Bourgeois de Paris" writes in + his _Journal_: "At the beginning of March there died in + Paris, at the house of Monsieur Poncher, Monsieur le Prevost + de Paris, named de La Barre.... The King was then in Paris, + at his chateau of the Louvre, and there was great pomp at + the obsequies; and he was borne to his lordship of Veretz, + near Tours, that he might be buried there." Numerous + particulars concerning La Barre will also be found in M. de + Laborde's _Comptes des Batiments du Roi au XVIeme Siecle_.-- + L. and Ed. + +He told the latter his plan, which was approved both by the Prince and +by two other great personages of the Court, all three agreeing together +to share in the spoil. + +While they were looking for a fourth comrade, there arrived a handsome +and honourable lord who was ten years younger than the others. He +was invited to the banquet, but although he accepted with a cheerful +countenance, in his heart he had no desire for it. For on the one part +he had a wife who was the mother of handsome children, and with whom he +lived in great happiness, and in such peacefulness that on no account +would he have had her suspect evil of him. And on the other hand he was +the lover of one of the handsomest ladies of her time in France, whom +he loved and esteemed so greatly that all other women seemed to him ugly +beside her. + +In his early youth, before he was married, he had found it impossible to +gaze upon and associate with other women, however beautiful they might +be; for he took more delight in gazing upon his sweetheart, and in +perfectly loving her, than in having all that another might have given +him. + +This lord, then, went to his wife and told her secretly of the +enterprise that his master had in hand, saying that he would rather die +than do what he had promised. For (he told her) just as there was no +living man whom he would not venture to attack in anger, although he +would rather die than commit a causeless and wilful murder unless his +honour compelled him to it; even so, unless driven by extreme love, such +as may serve to blind virtuous men, he would rather die than break his +marriage vow to gratify another. + +On hearing these words of his, and finding that so much honour dwelt +in one so young, his wife loved and esteemed him more than she had ever +done before, and inquired how he thought he might best excuse himself, +since Princes often frown on those who do not praise what they like. + +"I have always heard," he replied, "that a wise man has a journey or +a sickness in his sleeve for use in time of need. I have therefore +resolved that I will feign a grievous sickness four or five days +beforehand, and in this matter your countenance may render me true +service." + +"Tis a worthy and holy hypocrisy," said his wife, "and I will not fail +to serve you with the saddest face I can command; for he who can avoid +offending God and angering the Prince is fortunate indeed." + +As it was resolved, so was it done, and the King was very sorry to hear +from the wife of her husband's sickness. This, however, lasted no +long time; for, on account of certain business which arose, the King +disregarded his pleasure to attend to his duty, and betook himself away +from Paris. + +However, one day, remembering their unfinished undertaking, he said to +the young lord:-- + +"We were very foolish to leave so suddenly without seeing the four girls +who are declared to be the fairest in my kingdom." + +"I am very glad," replied the young lord, "that you failed in the +matter, for I was in great fear that, by reason of my sickness, I should +be the only one to miss so pleasant an adventure." + +By reason of this answer the King never suspected the dissimulation of +the young lord, who was thenceforward loved by his wife more dearly than +he had ever been before. + +Hereupon Parlamente began to laugh, and could not hold from saying-- + +"He would have loved his wife better if he had done this for love of her +alone. But in any case he is worthy of great praise." + +"It seems to me," said Hircan, "that it is no great merit in a man +to keep his chastity for love of his wife, inasmuch as there are many +reasons which in a manner compel him to do so. In the first place, God +commands it; his marriage vow binds him to it, and, further, surfeited +nature is not liable to temptation or desire as necessity is. But when +the unfettered love that a man bears towards a mistress of whom he has +no delight, and no other happiness save that of seeing her and speaking +with her, and from whom he often receives harsh replies--when this love +is so loyal and steadfast that nothing can ever make it change, I say +that such chastity is not simply praiseworthy but miraculous." + +"'Tis no miracle in my opinion," said Oisille, "for when the heart is +plighted, nothing is impossible to the body." + +"True," said Hircan; "to bodies which have become those of angels." + +"I do not speak only of those," said Oisille, "who by the grace of God +are wholly transformed into Himself, but of the grosser spirits that +we see here below among men. And, if you give heed, you will find that +those who have set their hearts and affections upon seeking after the +perfection of the sciences, have forgotten not only the lust of the +flesh, but even the most needful matters, such as food and drink; for +so long as the soul is stirred within the body, so long does the flesh +continue as though insensible. Thence comes it that those who love +handsome, honourable and virtuous women have such happiness of spirit in +seeing them and speaking with them, that the flesh is lulled in all its +desires. Those who cannot feel this happiness are the carnally-minded, +who, wrapped in their exceeding fatness, cannot tell whether they have a +soul or not. But, when the body is in subjection to the spirit, it is +as though heedless of the failings of the flesh, and the beliefs of such +persons may render them insensible of the same. I knew a gentleman who, +to show that he loved his mistress more dearly than did any other man, +proved it to all his comrades by holding his bare fingers in the +flame of a candle. And then, with his eyes fixed upon his mistress, he +remained firm until he had burned himself to the bone, and yet said that +he had felt no hurt." + +"Methinks," said Geburon, "that the devil whose martyr he was ought to +have made a St. Lawrence of him; for there are few whose love-flame is +hot enough to keep them from fearing that of the smallest taper. But +if a lady had suffered me to endure so much hurt for her sake, I should +either have sought a rich reward or else have taken my love away from +her." + +"So," said Parlamente, "you would have your hour after the lady had +had hers? That was what was done by a gentleman of the neighbourhood +of Valencia in Spain, whose story was told to me by a captain, a right +worthy man." + +"I pray you, madam," said Dagoucin, "take my place and tell it us, for I +am sure that it must be a good one." + +"This story, ladies," said Parlamente, "will teach you both to think +twice when you are inclined to give a refusal and to lay aside the +thought that the present will always continue; and so, knowing that it +is subject to mutation, you will have a care for the time to come." + + +[Illustration: 132.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 133a. The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of +Valencia who had become a Monk] + +[The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of Valencia who had +become a Monk] + +[Illustration: 133.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXIV_. + + _After a lady had for the space of five or six years made + trial of the love that a certain gentleman bore her, she + desired to have a still stronger proof of it, and reduced + him to such despair that he turned monk, on which account + she was not able to win him back again when she would fain + have done so_. + +In the city of Valencia there lived a gentleman, who for the space of +five or six years had loved a lady so perfectly that the honour and +conscience of neither of them had taken any hurt; for his intent was +to have her as his wife, and this was reasonable, seeing that he was +handsome, rich and of good descent. But, before he became her lover, he +first inquired concerning her own mind, whereupon she declared herself +willing to marry according to the counsels of her kinsfolk. The +latter, being come together for the purpose, deemed the marriage a very +reasonable one provided that the maiden was herself disposed to it; but +she--whether because she thought to do better or because she wished to +hide her love for him---made some difficulty, and the company separated, +not without regret at having failed to conclude a match so well suited +to both parties. + +The most grieved of all was the poor gentleman, who would have borne +his misfortune with patience had he thought that the fault lay with the +kinsfolk and not with her; but he knew the truth, and the knowledge was +to him worse than death. So, without speaking to his sweetheart or to +any other person, he withdrew to his own house, and, after setting his +affairs in order, betook himself to a solitary spot, where he strove to +forget his love and change it wholly to that love of our Lord which were +truly a higher duty than the other. + +During this time he received no tidings of his mistress or her kindred, +and he therefore resolved that, since he had failed to obtain the +happiest life he could hope for, he would choose the most austere and +disagreeable that he could imagine. With this sad intent, which +might well have been called despair, he went and became a monk in the +monastery of St. Francis. This monastery was not far from the dwellings +of divers of his kinsfolk, who, on hearing of his desperate condition, +did all that in them lay to hinder his purpose; but this was so firmly +rooted in his heart that it was not possible to turn him from it. + +Nevertheless, as the source of his distemper was known to them, they +determined to seek the cure, and so repaired to her who was the cause +of his sudden devoutness. She was greatly astonished and grieved by this +mischance, for, in refusing for a time, she had thought only to test his +affection, not to lose it for ever. Seeing now the evident risk that she +ran of doing this last, she sent him a letter, which, ill-translated, +was as follows:-- + + "Since love, if tested not full needfully, + Steadfast and faithful is not shown to be, + By length of time my heart would that assay + Whereon itself was set to love alway-- + To wit, a husband with that true love filled + Such as no lapsing time has ever killed. + This, then, was the sole reason that I drew + My kin to hinder for a year or two + That closest tie which lasts till life is not, + And whereby woe is oftentimes begot. + Yet sought I not to have you wholly sent + Away; such was in no wise my intent, + For none save you could I have e'er adored + Or looked to as my husband and my lord. + But woe is me, what tidings reach mine ear! + That you, to lead the cloistered life austere, + Are gone with speech to none; whereat the pain + That ever holds me, now can brook no rein, + But forces me mine own estate to slight + For that which yours aforetime was of right; + To seek him out who once sought me alone, + And win him who myself has sometimes won. + Nay then, my love, life of the life in me, + For loss of whom I fain would cease to be, + Turn hither, graciously, those eyes of pain + And trace those wandering footsteps back again. + Leave the grey robe and its austerity, + Come back and taste of that felicity + Which often you desired, and which to-day + Time has nor slain, nor swept away. + For you alone I've kept myself; and I, + Lacking your presence, cannot choose but die. + Come back then; in your sweetheart have belief, + And for past memories find cool relief + In holy marriage-ties. Ah! then, my dear, + To me, not to your pride give ready ear, + And rest of this assured, I had no thought + To give, sweetheart, to you offence in aught, + But only yearned your faithfulness to prove + And then to make you happy with my love. + But now that through this trial, free from scathe, + Are come your steadfastness and patient faith, + And all that loyal love to me is known, + Which at the last has made me yours alone, + Come, my beloved, take what is your due + And wholly yield to me, as I to you!" + +This letter, brought by a friend of hers with every remonstrance that it +was possible to make, was received and read by the gentleman friar with +such sadness of countenance, such sighs and such tears, that it seemed +as though he would drown and burn the poor epistle. But he made no +reply to it, except to tell the messenger that the mortification of his +exceeding passion had cost him so dear as to have taken from him both +the wish to live and the fear to die. He therefore requested her who +had been the cause of this, that since she had not chosen to satisfy +his passionate longings, she would, now that he was rid of them, abstain +from tormenting him, and rest content with the evil which was past. For +that evil he could find no remedy but the choice of an austere life, +which by continual penance might bring him to forget his grief, and, by +fasts and disciplines, subdue his body, till the thought of death should +be to him but a sovereign consolation. Above all, he begged that he +might never hear of her, since he found the mere remembrance of her name +a purgatory not to be endured. + +The gentleman went back with this mournful reply, and reported it to the +maiden who did not hear it without intolerable sorrow. But Love, which +will not suffer the spirit utterly to fail, gave her the thought that, +if she could see him, her words and presence might be of more effect +than the writing. She therefore, with her father and the nearest of her +kin, went to the monastery where he abode. She had left nothing in her +box that might set off her beauty, for she felt sure that, could he but +once look at her and hear her, the fire that had so long dwelt in both +their hearts must of necessity be kindled again in greater strength than +before. + +Coming thus into the monastery towards the end of vespers, she sent for +him to come to her in a chapel that was in the cloister. He, knowing not +who it was that sought him, went in all ignorance to the sternest battle +in which he had ever been. When she saw him so pale and wan that she +could hardly recognise him, yet filled with grace, in no whit less +winning than of yore, Love made her stretch out her arms to embrace him, +whilst her pity at seeing him in such a plight so enfeebled her heart, +that she sank swooning to the floor. + +The poor monk, who was not void of brotherly charity, lifted her up and +set her upon a seat in the chapel. Although he had no less need of +aid than she had, he feigned to be unaware of her passion, and so +strengthened his heart in the love of God against the opportunities now +present with him, that, judging by his countenance, he seemed not to +know what was actually before him. Having recovered from her weakness, +she turned upon him her beautiful, piteous eyes, which were enough to +soften a rock, and began to utter all such discourse as she believed apt +to draw him from the place in which he now was. He replied as virtuously +as he was able; but at last, finding that his heart was being softened +by his sweetheart's abundant tears, and perceiving that Love, the cruel +archer whose pains he long had known, was ready with his golden dart to +deal him fresh and more deadly wounds, he fled both from Love and from +his sweetheart, like one whose only resource lay, indeed, in flight. + +When he was shut up in his room, not desiring to let her go without some +settlement of the matter, he wrote her a few words in Spanish, which +seem to me so excellent in their matter that I would not by translating +them mar their grace. These were brought to her by a little novice, +who found her still in the chapel and in such despair that, had it been +lawful, she too would have remained there and turned friar. But when she +saw the words, which were these-- + + "Volvete don venesti, anima mia, + Que en las tristas vidas es la mia," (1) + +she knew that all hope was gone, and she resolved to follow the advice +of him and her friends, and so returned home, there to lead a life as +melancholy as that of her lover in his monastery was austere. + + 1 "Return whence thou earnest, my soul, + for among the sad lives is mine."' + +"You see, ladies, what vengeance the gentleman took upon his harsh +sweetheart, who, thinking to try him, reduced him to such despair that, +when she would have regained him, she could not do so." + +"I am sorry," said Nomerfide, "that he did not lay aside his gown and +marry her. It would, I think, have been a perfect marriage." + +"In good sooth," said Simontault, "I think he was very wise. Anyone who +well considers what marriage is will deem it no less grievous than +a monkish life. Moreover, being so greatly weakened by fasts and +abstinence, he feared to take upon him a burden of that kind which lasts +all through life." + +"Methinks," said Hircan, "she wronged so feeble a man by tempting him +to marriage, for 'tis too much for the strongest man alive; but had she +spoken to him of love, free from any obligation but that of the will, +there is no friar's cord that would not have been untied. However, since +she sought to draw him out of purgatory by offering him hell, I think +that he was quite right to refuse her, and to let her feel the pain that +her own refusal had cost him." + +"By my word," said Ennasuite, "there are many who, thinking to do better +than their fellows, do either worse or else the very opposite of what +they desire." + +"Truly," said Geburon, "you remind me--though, indeed, the matter is +not greatly to the point--of a woman who did the opposite of what she +desired, and so caused a great uproar in the church of St. John of +Lyons." + +"I pray you," said Parlamente, "take my place and tell us about it." + +"My story," said Geburon, "will not be so long or so piteous as the one +we have heard from Parlamente." + + +[Illustration: 141.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 143a. The Old Woman startled by the Waking of the Soldier] + +[The Old Woman startled by the Waking of the Soldier] + +[Illustration: 143.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXV_. + + _Though the priests of St. John of Lyons would fain have + concealed it, the falsity of a miracle was brought to light + through an old woman's folly becoming known_. (1) + +In the church of St. John of Lyons there is a very dark chapel, and +inside it a stone tomb with figures of great personages raised life-like +upon it, whilst several men-at-arms lie all around it. + + 1 We believe that the incident here narrated occurred early + in 1525, when Margaret is known to have been at Lyons. She + and her husband (on his return from Pavia) resided there at + the house of the Obediencier de St. Just, and it was in the + church of St. Just that the Duke of Alencon was buried. + Doubtless it was during his illness that the _novena_ + alluded to in the final tale of the _Heptameron_ was + performed by Queen Margaret at the church of St. John of + Lyons, where the two most important chapels, according to + Quincarnon's _Antiquites et la fondation de la Metropole + des Gaules, &c._, Lyons, 1673, were the Most Holy Eucharist, + or Bourbon chapel, built in 1449 by Charles de Bourbon, + Primate of Gaul, and the Holy Sepulchre, or Good Friday + chapel, erected at the beginning of the fifteenth century by + Philip de Turey, Archbishop of Lyons. Unfortunately the + church of St. John was in 1652 devastated by the Huguenots, + who in their insensate fury destroyed almost all the tombs. + It is therefore now impossible to identify the chapel and + tomb to which the Queen of Navarre refers in the above + story, though her allusion to the dimness of the light would + incline us to place the incident she recounts in the + Chapelle du St. Sepulcre.--L. and Ed. + +One day a soldier, walking in the church at the very height of summer, +felt inclined to sleep, and, looking at this dark, cool chapel, resolved +to go and guard the tomb in sleep like the rest; (2) and accordingly he +lay down beside them. Now it chanced that a very pious old woman came +in while his sleep was the soundest, and having performed her devotions, +holding a lighted taper in her hand, she sought to fix this taper to the +tomb. Finding that the sleeping man was nearest to her, she tried to set +it upon his forehead, thinking that it was of stone; but the wax would +not stick to such stone as this, whereupon the worthy dame, believing +that the reason of it was the coldness of the statue, applied the flame +to the sleeper's forehead, that she might the better fix the taper on +it. At this, however, the statue, which was not without feeling, began +to cry out. + + 2 Meaning the recumbent statues of the men-at-arms.--Ed. + +The good woman was then in exceeding fear, and set herself to shout, "A +miracle! a miracle!" until all who were in the church ran, some to ring +the bells, and the rest to view the miracle. The good woman forthwith +took them to see the statue that had stirred, whereupon many found food +for laughter; though the greater number were unable to feel any content, +inasmuch as they had really determined to make profit out of the tomb, +and to gain as much money by it as by the crucifix on their pulpit, +which is said to have spoken. (3) But when the woman's folly became +known the farce came to an end. If all knew of their follies, they would +not be accounted holy nor their miracles true. And I would beg you, +ladies, to see henceforward to what saints you offer your candles. (4) + + 3 The crucifix in the church of St. John was mainly of + silver, and, according to Quincarnon, at the time of a + Huguenot outbreak at Lyons it was thrown to the ground by a + Calvinist minister named Ruffy, who, after reducing it to + fragments, carried all the precious metal away with him.--M. + + 4 The latter portion of this story and all the dialogue + that follows it are omitted by Boaistuau in his edition. + Gruget inserted the dialogue, but he did not dare to print + the passage respecting the talking crucifix.--L. + +"'Tis notable," said Hircan, "that, whatever the matter in question may +be, women always do wrong." + +"Is it wrong," asked Nomerfide, "to bring candles to a tomb?" + +"Yes," said Hircan, "if the flame be turned against a man's forehead; +for nothing good should be called good if it be attended with evil. You +may be sure that the poor woman thought she had made a fine gift to God +with her little candle." + +"I look not to the gift," said Oisille, "but to the heart that offers +it. Perhaps this worthy woman had more love for God than those who offer +great torches; for, as the Gospel says, she gave of her need." + +"Still, I no not believe," said Saffredent, "that God, who is sovereign +wisdom, can be pleased with the foolishness of women. Although +simplicity is pleasing to Him, I see from the Scriptures that He +despises the ignorant; and if He commands us to be as harmless as the +dove, He none the less commands us to be wise like the serpent." + +"For my part," said Oisille, "I do not call the woman ignorant who +brings her candle or burning taper into the presence of God, and makes +amends for her wrongdoing on bended knees before her sovereign Lord, +confessing her unworthiness and with steadfast hope seeking pity and +salvation." + +"Would to God," said Dagoucin, "that all understood it in the same way +as you; but I do not believe that these poor fools do it with the intent +you say." + +"The women," said Oisille, "who are least able to speak are just those +who are most sensible of the love and will of God; wherefore 'tis well +to judge none but ourselves." + +Ennasuite laughed and said--"'Tis no wonderful thing to have frightened +a sleeping varlet, since women of as lowly condition have frightened +noble Princes, without putting fire to their foreheads." + +"I am sure," said Geburon, "that you know some such story, which you +are willing to relate; wherefore, if it please you, you shall take my +place." + +"The tale will not be a long one," said Ennasuite, "but, could I recount +it just as it happened, you would have no desire to weep." + + +[Illustration: 147.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 149a. The Old Serving-woman explaining her Mistake to +the Duke and Duchess of Vendome] + +[The Old Serving-woman explaining her Mistake to the Duke and Duchess +of Vendome] + +[Illustration: 149.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXVI_. + + _The Duke of Vendome and the Princess of Navarre, whilst + resting together one afternoon, were surprised by an old + serving-woman, who took them for a prothonotary and a damsel + between whom she suspected some affection; and, through this + fine justicement, a matter, of which intimates were + ignorant, was made known to strangers_. + +In the year when the Duke of Vendome married the Princess of Navarre, +(1) the King and Queen, their parents, after feasting at Vendome, went +with them into Guienne, and, visiting a gentleman's house where there +were many honourable and beautiful ladies, the newly married pair +danced so long in this excellent company that they became weary, and, +withdrawing to their chamber, lay down in their clothes upon the bed and +fell asleep, doors and windows being shut and none remaining with them. + + 1 It was in October 1548, some eighteen months after Henry + II. had succeeded Francis I., that Anthony de Bourbon, Duke + of Vendome, who after the King's children held the first + rank in France, was married at Moulins to Margaret's + daughter Jane of Navarre. The Duke was then thirty and Jane + twenty years old. "I never saw so joyous a bride," wrote + Henry II. to Montmorency, "she never does anything but + laugh." She was indeed well pleased with the match, the + better so, perhaps, as her husband had settled 100,000 + livres on her, a gift which was the more acceptable by + reason of her extravagant tastes and love of display. Ste. + Marthe, in his _Oraison Funebre_ on Queen Margaret, speaks + of her daughter's marriage as "a most fortunate + conjunction," and refers to her son-in-law as "the most + valiant and magnanimous Prince Anthony, Duke of Vendome, + whose admirable virtues have so inclined all France to love + and revere him, that princes and nobles, the populace, the + great and the humble alike, no sooner hear his name + mentioned than they forthwith wish him and beg God to bestow + on him all possible health and prosperity."--Ed + +Just, however, when their sleep was at its soundest, they were awakened +by their door being opened from without, and the Duke drew the curtain +and looked to see who it might be, suspecting indeed that it was one of +his friends who was minded to surprise him. But he perceived a tall, old +bed-chamber woman come in and walk straight up to their bed, where, for +the darkness of the room, she could not recognise them. Seeing them, +however, quite close together, she began to cry out-- + +"Thou vile and naughty wanton! I have long suspected thee to be what +thou art, yet for lack of proof spoke not of it to my mistress. But now +thy vileness is so clearly shown that I shall in no sort conceal it; and +thou, foul renegade, who hast wrought such shame in this house by the +undoing of this poor wench, if it were not for the fear of God, I would +e'en cudgel thee where thou liest. Get up, in the devil's name, get up, +for methinks even now thou hast no shame." + +The Duke of Vendome and the Princess hid their faces against each other +in order to have the talk last longer, and they laughed so heartily that +they were not able to utter a word. Finding that for all her threats +they were not willing to rise, the serving-woman came closer in order to +pull them by the arms. Then she at once perceived both from their faces +and from their dress that they were not those whom she sought, and, +recognising them, she flung herself upon her knees, begging them to +pardon her error in thus robbing them of their rest. + +But the Duke of Vendome was not content to know so little, and rising +forthwith, he begged the old woman to say for whom she had taken them. +This at first she was not willing to do; but at last, after he had sworn +to her never to reveal it, she told him that there was a girl in the +house with whom a prothonotary (2) was in love, and that she had long +kept a watch on them, since it pleased her little to see her mistress +trusting in a man who was working this shame towards her. She then left +the Prince and Princess shut in as she had found them, and they laughed +for a long while over their adventure. And, although they afterwards +told the story they would never name any of the persons concerned. + + 2 The office of apostolic prothonotary was instituted by + Pope Clement I., there being at first twelve such officers, + whose duty was to write the lives of the saints and other + apostolic records. Gradually their number so increased, that + in the fifteenth century the title of prothonotary had come + to be merely an honorary dignity, conferred as a matter of + course on doctors of theology of noble family, or otherwise + of note. In the role of Francis I.'s household for 1522, we + find but one prothonotary mentioned, but in that for 1529 + there are twelve. More than one of them might have been + called _un letrado que no tenia muchas letras_, as Brantome + wrote of Thomas de Lescun, Prothonotary of Foix and + afterwards Marshal of France. "In those days," adds the + author of _Les Grands Capitaines Francais_, "it was usual + for prothonotaries and even for those of good family not to + have much learning, but to enjoy themselves, hunt, make love + and seduce the wives of the poor gentlemen who were gone to + the wars."--_OEuvres completes de Brantome_, 8vo edit., vol. + ii. p. 144.--L. and Ed. + +"You see, ladies, how the worthy dame, whilst thinking to do a fine deed +of justice, made known to strange princes a matter of which the servants +of the house had never heard." + +"I think I know," said Parlamente, "in whose house it was, and who the +prothonotary is; for he has governed many a lady's house, and when he +cannot win the mistress's favour he never fails to have that of one of +the maids. In other matters, however, he is an honourable and worthy +man." + +"Why do you say 'in other matters'?" said Hircan. "Tis for that very +behaviour that I deem him so worthy a man." + +"I can see," said Parlamente, "that you know the sickness and the +sufferer, and that, if he needed excuse, you would not fail him as +advocate. Yet I would not trust myself to a man who could not contrive +his affairs without having them known to the serving-women." + +"And do you imagine," said Nomerfide, "that men care whether such a +matter be known if only they can compass their end? You may be sure +that, even if none spoke of it but themselves, it would still of +necessity be known." + +"They have no need," said Hircan angrily, "to say all that they know." + +"Perhaps," she replied, blushing, "they would not say it to their own +advantage." + +"Judging from your words," said Simontault, "it would seem that men +delight in hearing evil spoken about women, and I am sure that you +reckon me among men of that kind. I therefore greatly wish to speak well +of one of your sex, in order that I may not be held a slanderer by all +the rest." + +"I give you my place," said Ennasuite, "praying you withal to control +your natural disposition, so that you may acquit yourself worthily in +our honour." + +Forthwith Simontault began-- + +"Tis no new thing, ladies, to hear of some virtuous act on your part +which, methinks, should not be hidden but rather written in letters +of gold, that it may serve women as an example, and give men cause for +admiration at seeing in the weaker sex that from which weakness is prone +to shrink. I am prompted, therefore, to relate something that I heard +from Captain Robertval and divers of his company." + + +[Illustration: 154.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 155a. The Wife Reading to her Husband on the Desert Island] + +[The Wife Reading to her Husband on the Desert Island] + +[Illustration: 155.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXVII_. + + _A poor woman risked her own life to save that of her + husband, whom she forsook not until death_. + +The Captain Robertval aforesaid once made a voyage across the seas +to the island of Canadas, (1) himself being chief in command by the +appointment of the King, his master. And there, if the air of the +country were good, he had resolved to dwell and to build towns and +castles. With this work he made such a beginning as is known to all; +and to people the country with Christians he took with him all kinds of +artificers, among whom was a most wicked man, who betrayed his master +and put him in danger of being captured by the natives. But God willed +that his attempt should be discovered before any evil befell the +Captain, who, seizing the wicked traitor, was minded to punish him as +he deserved. And this he would have done but for the man's wife, who had +followed her husband through the perils of the deep and would not now +leave him to die, but with many tears so wrought upon the Captain and +all his company that, for pity of her and for the sake of the services +she had done them, her request was granted. In consequence, husband and +wife were left together on a small island in the sea, inhabited only +by wild beasts, and were suffered to take with them such things as were +needful. + + 1 Canada had been discovered by Cabot in 1497; and in 1535 + James Cartier sailed up the St. Lawrence and, taking + possession of the country in the name of Francis I., called + it La Nouvelle France. Seven years later a gentleman of + Picardy, named John Francis de La Roque, Lord of Robertval, + accompanying Cartier, established a colony on the Isle + Royale, and subsequently built the fort of Charlebourg. One + of his pilots, named Alphonse of Saintonge, meanwhile + reconnoitred the coasts both of Canada and Labrador. About + this time (1542) the incidents related in the above tale + must have occurred.--L. + +The poor folk, finding themselves all alone and surrounded by wild and +cruel beasts, had no recourse but to God, who had ever been this poor +woman's steadfast hope; and, since she found all her consolation in Him, +she carried the New Testament with her for safeguard, nourishment and +consolation, and in it read unceasingly. Further, she laboured with her +husband to make them a little dwelling as best they might, and when the +lions (2) and other animals came near to devour them, the husband with +his arquebuss and she with stones made so stout a defence that not only +were the beasts afraid to approach, but often some were slain that were +very good for food. And on this flesh and the herbs of the land, they +lived for some time after their bread failed them. + + 2 This mention of lions on a small desert island in the + Canadian seas would be rather perplexing did we not know how + great at that time was the general ignorance on most matters + connected with natural history. Possibly the allusion may be + to the _lion marin_, as the French call the leonine seal. + This, however, is anything but an aggressive animal. + Curiously enough, Florimond de Remond, the sixteenth century + writer, speaks of a drawing of a "marine lion" given to him + "by that most illustrious lady Margaret Queen of Navarre, to + whom it had been presented by a Spanish gentleman, who was + taking a second copy of it to the Emperor Charles V., then + in Spain."--Ed. + +At last, however, the husband could no longer endure this nutriment, +and by reason of the waters that they drank became so swollen that in +a short while he died, and this without any service or consolation save +from his wife, she being both his doctor and his confessor; and when +he had joyously passed out of the desert into the heavenly country, the +poor woman, left now in solitude, buried him in the earth as deeply as +she was able. Nevertheless the beasts quickly knew of it, and came to +eat the dead body; but the poor woman, firing with the arquebuss from +her cabin, saved her husband's flesh from finding such a grave. + +Leading thus in regard to her body the life of a brute, and in regard +to her soul the life of an angel, she passed her time in reading, +meditations, prayers and orisons, having a glad and happy mind in a +wasted and half-dead body. But He who never forsakes His own, and who +manifests His power when others are in despair, did not suffer the +virtue that he had put into this woman to be unknown by men, but willed +that it should be made manifest to His own glory. He therefore brought +things so to pass, that after some time, when one of the ships of the +armament was passing by the island, those that were looking that way +perceived some smoke, which reminded them of the persons who had been +left there, and they resolved to go and see what God had done with them. + +The poor woman, seeing the ship draw nigh, dragged herself to the shore, +and there they found her on their arrival. After giving praise to God, +she brought them to her poor cottage and showed them on what she had +lived during her abode in that place. This would have seemed to them +impossible of belief, but for their knowledge that God is as powerful to +feed His servants in a desert as at the greatest banquet in the world. +As the poor woman could not continue in such a spot, they took her with +them straight to La Rochelle, where, their voyage ended, they arrived. +And when they had made known to the inhabitants the faithfulness and +endurance of this woman, she was very honourably received by all the +ladies, who gladly sent their daughters to her to learn to read and +write. In this honest calling she maintained herself for the rest of +her life, having no other desire save to admonish every one to love and +trust Our Lord, and setting forth as an example the great compassion +that He had shown towards her. + +"Now, ladies, you cannot say I do not praise the virtues which God +has given you, and which show the more when possessed by one of lowly +condition." + +"Why, we are not sorry," said Oisille, "to hear you praise the mercies +of Our Lord, for in truth all virtue comes from Him; but we must confess +that man assists in the work of God as little as women. Neither can by +heart or will do more than plant. God alone giveth the increase." + +"If you have studied Scripture," said Saffredent, "you know that St. +Paul says that Apollos planted and he himself watered; (3) but he does +not speak of women as having set hand to the work of God." + + 3 The text is just the contrary: "I have planted, Apollos + watered; but God gave the increase."--I _Corinthians_ iii. + 6.--Ed. + +"You would follow," said Parlamente, "the opinion of those wicked men +who take a passage of Scripture that is in their favour and leave one +that is against them. If you had read St. Paul to the end, you would +have found that he commends himself to the ladies, who greatly laboured +with him in the work of the Gospel." + +"However that may be," said Longarine, "the woman in the story is well +worthy of praise both for the love she bore her husband, on whose behalf +she risked her own life, and for the faith she had in God, who, as we +see, did not forsake her." + +"I think," said Ennasuite, "as far as the first is concerned, that there +is no woman present but would do as much to save her husband's life." + +"I think," said Parlamente, "that some husbands are such brutes that the +women who live with them should not find it strange to live among their +fellows." + +Ennasuite, who took these words to herself, could not refrain from +saying-- + +"Provided the beasts did not bite me, their company would be more +pleasant to me than that of men, who are choleric and intolerable. But I +abide by what I have said, that, if my husband were in a like danger, I +should not leave him to die." + +"Beware," said Nomerfide, "of loving too fondly, for excess of love will +deceive both him and you. There is a medium in all things, and through +lack of knowledge love often gives birth to hate." + +"Methinks," said Simontault, "you have not carried your discourse so far +without having an instance to confirm it. If, then, you know such a one, +I give you my place that you may tell it to us." + +"Well," said Nomerfide, "the tale shall, as is my wont, be a short and a +merry one." + + +[Illustration: 161.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 163a. The Apothecary's Wife giving the Dose of Cantharides +to her Husband] + +[The Apothecary's Wife giving the Dose of Cantharides to her Husband] + +[Illustration: 163.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXVIII_. + + _An apothecary's wife, finding that her husband made no + great account of her, and wishing to be better loved by him, + followed the advice that he had given to a "commere" (1) of + his, whose sickness was of the same kind as her own; but she + prospered not so well as the other, and instead of love + reaped hate_. + + 1 Mr W. Kelly has pointed out (Bohn's _Heptameron_, p. 395) + that in France the godfather and godmother of a child are + called in reference to each other compere and commere, terms + implying mutual relations of an extremely friendly kind. "The + same usage exists in all Catholic countries," adds Mr Kelly, + "and one of the novels of the _Decameron_ is founded on a + very general opinion in Italy that an amorous connection + between a _compadre_ and his _commadre_ partook almost of + the nature of incest." + +In the town of Pau in Beam there was an apothecary whom men called +Master Stephen. He had married a virtuous wife and a thrifty, with +beauty enough to content him. But just as he was wont to taste different +drugs, so did he also with women, that he might be the better able to +speak of all kinds. His wife was greatly tormented by this, and at +last lost all patience; for he made no account of her except by way of +penance during Holy Week. + +One day when the apothecary was in his shop, and his wife had hidden +herself behind him to listen to what he might say, a woman, who was +"commere" to the apothecary, and was stricken with the same sickness as +his own wife, came in, and, sighing, said to him-- + +"Alas, good godfather, I am the most unhappy woman alive. I love my +husband better than myself, and do nothing but think of how I may serve +and obey him; but all my labour is wasted, for he prefers the wickedest, +foulest, vilest woman in the town to me. So, godfather, if you know of +any drug that will change his humour, prithee give it me, and, if I be +well treated by him, I promise to reward you by all means in my power." + +The apothecary, to comfort her, said that he knew of a powder which, if +she gave it to her husband with his broth or roast, after the fashion +of Duke's powder, (2) would induce him to entertain her in the best +possible manner. The poor woman, wishing to behold this miracle, asked +him what the powder was, and whether she could have some of it. He +declared that there was nothing like powder of cantharides, of which +he had a goodly store; and before they parted she made him prepare +this powder, and took as much of it as was needful for her purpose. And +afterwards she often thanked the apothecary, for her husband, who was +strong and lusty, and did not take too much, was none the worse for it. + + 2 Boaistuau and Gruget call this preparation _poudre de + Dun_, as enigmatical an appellation as _poudre de Duc_. As + for the specific supplied by the apothecary, the context + shows that this was the same aphrodisiac as the Marquis de + Sades put to such a detestable use at Marseilles in 1772, + when, after fleeing from justice, he was formally sentenced + to death, and broken, in effigy, upon the wheel. See P. + Lacroix's _Curiosites de l'histoire de France, IIeme Serie_, + Paris, 1858.--Ed. + +The apothecary's wife heard all this talk, and thought within herself +that she had no less need of the recipe than her husband's "commere." +Observing, therefore, the place where her husband put the remainder of +the powder, she resolved that she would use some of it when she found +an opportunity; and this she did within three or four days. Her husband, +who felt a coldness of the stomach, begged her to make him some good +soup, but she replied that a roast with Duke's powder would be better +for him; whereupon he bade her go quickly and prepare it, and take +cinnamon and sugar from the shop. This she did, not forgetting also to +take the remainder of the powder given to the "commere," without any +heed to dose, weight or measure. + +The husband ate the roast, and thought it very good. Before long, +however, he felt its effects, and sought to soothe them with his wife, +but this he found was impossible, for he felt all on fire, in such wise +that he knew not which way to turn. He then told his wife that she had +poisoned him, and demanded to know what she had put into the roast. She +forthwith confessed the truth, telling him that she herself required the +recipe quite as much as his "commere." By reason of his evil plight, +the poor apothecary could belabour her only with hard words; however, +he drove her from his presence, and sent to beg the Queen of Navarre's +apothecary (3) to come and see him. This the Queen's apothecary did, and +whilst giving the other all the remedies proper for his cure (which in +a short time was effected) he rebuked him very sharply for his folly +in counselling another to use drugs that he was not willing to take +himself, and declared that his wife had only done her duty, inasmuch as +she had desired to be loved by her husband. + + 3 It was from her apothecary no doubt that Queen Margaret + heard this story.--Ed. + +Thus the poor man was forced to endure the results of his folly in +patience, and to own that he had been justly punished in being brought +into such derision as he had proposed for another. + +"Methinks, ladies, this woman's love was as indiscreet as it was great." + +"Do you call it loving her husband," said Hircan, "to give him pain for +the sake of the delight that she herself looked to have?" + +"I believe," said Longarine, "she only desired to win back her husband's +love, which she deemed to have gone far astray; and for the sake of such +happiness there is nothing that a woman will not do." "Nevertheless," +said Geburon, "a woman ought on no account to make her husband eat or +drink anything unless, either through her own experience or that +of learned folk, she be sure that it can do him no harm. Ignorance, +however, must be excused, and hers was worthy of excuse; for the most +blinding passion is love, and the most blinded of persons is a woman, +since she has not strength enough to conduct so weighty a matter +wisely." + +"Geburon," said Oisille, "you are departing from your own excellent +custom so as to make yourself of like mind with your fellows; but there +are women who have endured love and jealousy in patience." + +"Ay," said Hircan, "and pleasantly too; for the most sensible are those +who take as much amusement in laughing at their husbands' doings, as +their husbands take in secretly deceiving them. If you will make it +my turn, so that the Lady Oisille may close the day, I will tell you a +story about a wife and her husband who are known to all of us here." + +"Begin, then," said Nomerfide; and Hircan, laughing, began thus:-- + + +[Illustration: 168.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 169a. The Wife discovering her Husband in the Hood of +their Serving-maid] + +[The Wife discovering her Husband in the Hood of their Serving-maid] + +[Illustration: 169.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXIX_. + + _On finding her husband bolting meal in the garb of her + serving-woman, whom he was awaiting in the hope that he + would obtain from her what he desired, a certain lady showed + such good sense that she was content to laugh and make merry + at his folly_. + +At the castle of Odoz (1) in Bigorre, there dwelt one Charles, equerry +to the King and an Italian by birth, who had married a very virtuous +and honourable woman. After bearing him many children, she was now +grown old, whilst he also was not young. And he lived with her in all +peacefulness and affection, for although he would at times speak with +his serving-women, his excellent wife took no notice of this, but +quietly dismissed them whenever she found that they were becoming too +familiar in her house. + + 1 The scene of this tale is laid at the castle where + Margaret died. Ste. Marthe in his _Oraison funebre_, + pronounced at Alencon fifteen days after the Queen's death, + formally states that she expired at Odos near Tarbes. He is + not likely to have been mistaken, so that Brantome's + assertion that the Queen died at Audos in Beam may be + accepted as incorrect (_ante_, vol. i. p. lxxxviii.). It is + further probable that the above tale was actually written at + Odos (_ante_, vol. i. p. lxxxvi.), but the authenticity of + the incidents is very doubtful, as there is an extremely + similar story in the _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_ (No, xvii. + _Le Conseiller au bluteau_), in which the hero of the + adventure is a "great clerk and knight who presided over the + Court of Accounts in Paris." For subsequent imitations see + Malespini's _Ducento Novelle_ (No. xcvii.) and _Les Joyeuses + Adventures et Nouvelles Recreations_ (No. xix.)--L. and Ed. + +One day she hired a discreet and worthy girl, telling her of her +husband's temper and her own, and how she was wont to turn away such +girls whom she found to be wantons. This maid, wishing to continue in +her mistress's service and esteem, resolved to remain a virtuous woman; +and although her master often spoke to her, she on her part gave no heed +to his words save that she repeated them to her mistress, and they thus +both derived much diversion from his folly. + +One day the maid was in a back room bolting meal, and wearing her +"sarot," a kind of hood which, after the fashion of that country, not +only formed a coif but covered the whole of the back and shoulders. Her +master, finding her in this trim, came and urged her very pressingly, +and, although she would not have done such a thing even to save her +life, she pretended to consent, and asked leave to go first and see +whether her mistress was engaged in some such manner that they might not +be surprised together. To this he agreed; whereupon she begged him to +put her hood upon his head and to continue bolting whilst she was away, +in order that her mistress might still hear the noise of the bolter. And +this he gladly did, in the hope of obtaining what he sought. + +The maid, who was by no means inclined to melancholy, ran off to her +mistress and said to her-- + +"Come and see your good husband, whom I have taught to bolt in order to +be rid of him." + +The wife made all speed to behold this new serving-woman, and when she +saw her husband with the hood upon his head and the bolter in his hands, +she began to laugh so exceedingly, clapping her hands the while, that +she was scarce able to say to him-- + +"How much dost want a month, wench, for thy labour?" + +The husband, on hearing this voice, realised that he had been deceived, +and, throwing down both what he was holding and wearing, he ran at the +girl, calling her a thousand bad names. Had his wife not set herself in +front of the maid, he would have given her wage enough for her quarter; +but at last all was settled to the content of the parties concerned, and +thenceforward they lived together without quarrelling. (2) + + 2 The Italian Charles, equerry to the King, to whom the + leading part is assigned in Queen Margaret's tale, may have + been Charles de San Severino, who figures among the + equerries with a salary of 200 _livres_, in the roll of the + royal household for 1522. The San Severino family, one of + the most prominent of Naples, had attached itself to the + French cause at the time of the expedition of Charles VIII., + whom several of its members followed to France. In 1522 we + find a "Monsieur de Saint-Severin" holding the office of + first _maitre d'hotel_ to Francis I., and over a course of + several years his son figures among the _enfants + d'honneur_.--B. J. and Ed. + +"What say you, ladies, of this wife? Was she not sensible to make sport +of her husband's sport?" + +"'Twas no sport," said Saffredent, "for the husband who failed in his +purpose." + +"I believe," said Ennasuite, "that he had more delight in laughing with +his wife, than at killing himself at his age with his serving-woman." + +"Still, I should be sorely vexed," said Simontault, "to be discovered so +bravely coifed." + +"I have heard," said Parlamente, "that it was not your wife's fault that +she did not once discover you in very much the same attire in spite of +all your craft, and that since then she has known no repose." + +"Rest content with what befalls your own house," said Simontault, +"without inquiring into what befalls mine. Nevertheless, my wife has no +reason to complain of me, and even did I act as you say, she would never +have occasion to notice it through any lack of what she might need." + +"Virtuous women," said Longarine, "require nothing but the love of +their husbands, which alone can satisfy them. Those who seek a brutish +satisfaction will never find it where honour enjoins." + +"Do you call it brutish," asked Geburon, "if a wife desires that her +husband should give her her due?" + +"I say," said Longarine, "that a chaste woman, whose heart is filled +with true love, is more content to be perfectly loved than to have all +the delights that the body can desire." + +"I am of your opinion," said Dagoucin, "but my lords here will neither +hear it nor confess it. I think if mutual love cannot satisfy a woman, +her husband alone will not do so; for unless she live in the love +that is honourable for a woman, she must be tempted by the infernal +lustfulness of brutes." + +"In truth," said Oisille, "you remind me of a lady who was both handsome +and well wedded, but who, through not living in that honourable love, +became more carnal than swine and more cruel than lions." + +"I ask you, madam," said Simontault, "to end the day by telling us her +story." + +"That I cannot do," said Oisille, "and for two reasons. The first is +that it is exceedingly long; and the second, that it does not belong to +our own day. It is written indeed by an author worthy of belief; but we +are sworn to relate nothing that has been written." + +"That is true," said Parlamente; "but I believe I know the story you +mean, and it is written in such old language that methinks no one +present except ourselves has ever heard of it. It will therefore be +looked upon as new." + +Upon this the whole company begged her to tell it without fear for its +length, seeing that a full hour was yet left before vespers. So, at +their request, the Lady Oisille thus began:-- + + +[Illustration: 174.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 175a. The Gentleman Killing Himself on the Death of his Mistress] + +[The Gentleman Killing Himself on the Death of his Mistress] + +[Illustration: 175.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXX_. + + _The Duchess of Burgundy, not content with the love that her + husband bore her, conceived so great an affection for a + young gentleman that, when looks and glances were not + sufficient to inform him of her passion, she declared it to + him in words which led to an evil ending_. (1) + + 1 This story is borrowed from an old _fabliau_, known under + the title of the _Chatelaine de Vergy_, which will be found + in the _Recueil de Barbazan_ (vol iv.) and in Legrand + d'Aussy's _Fabliaux_ (vol iii.). Margaret calls the lady + Madame du Vergier (literally the lady of the orchard) in her + tale. Bandello imitated the same _fabliau_ in his _Novelle_ + (1554; part iv. nov. v.), but gave it a different ending. + Belleforest subsequently adapted it for his _Histoires + Tragiques_. Margaret's tale may also be compared with No. + lxii. of the _Cento Novelle antiche_, p. 84 of the edition + of Florence, 1825.--L. and M. + +In the Duchy of Burgundy there was a Duke who was a very honourable +and handsome Prince. He had married a wife whose beauty pleased him so +greatly that it kept him from knowledge of her character, and he took +thought only how he might please her, whilst she made excellent show of +returning his affection. Now the Duke had in his household a gentleman +filled with all the perfection that could be sought for in a man. He +was loved by all, more especially by the Duke, who had reared him +from childhood near his own person; and, finding him possessed of such +excellent qualities, the Duke loved him exceedingly and trusted him with +all such matters as one of his years could understand. + +The Duchess, who had not the heart of a virtuous woman and Princess, +and was not content with the love that her husband bore her and the good +treatment that she had at his hands, often observed this gentleman, +and so much to her liking did she find him, that she loved him beyond +measure. This she strove unceasingly to make known to him, as well by +soft and piteous glances as by sighs and passionate looks. + +But the gentleman, whose inclinations had ever been to virtue alone, +could not perceive wickedness in a lady who had so little excuse for it, +and so the glances and looks of the poor wanton bore no fruit save her +own frenzied despair. This at last drove her to extremes, and forgetting +that she was a woman fit to be entreated and yet to refuse, and a +Princess made to be worshipped by such lovers and yet to hold them in +scorn, she acted with the spirit of a man transported by passion, with a +view to rid herself of the fire which she could no longer endure. + +Accordingly, one day when her husband was gone to the council, at which +the gentleman by reason of his youth was not present, she beckoned him +to come to her, which he did, thinking that she had some command to +give him. But leaning on his arm, like a woman wearied with repose, she +brought him to walk in a gallery, where she said to him-- + +"I marvel that you who are so handsome and young, and full of excellent +grace, have lived in this company, where are so many beautiful ladies, +and yet have been lover or true knight to none." Then, looking at him as +graciously as she was able, she waited for his reply. + +"Madam," he said, "if I were worthy that your Highness should stoop to +think of me, you would have still greater reason to marvel at seeing a +man so little worthy of love as I am, offer his service where it would +be rejected or scorned." + +On hearing this discreet reply, the Duchess felt she loved him more +than before. She vowed to him that there was not a lady at her Court +who would not be only too happy to have such a knight, and that he might +well make an adventure of the sort, since there was no danger but he +would come out of it with honour. The gentleman kept his eyes downcast, +not daring to meet her looks, which were hot enough to melt ice; but, +just as he was trying to excuse himself, the Duke sent for the Duchess +to come to the council on some matter that concerned her, and thither +with much regret she went. The gentleman never afterwards made the +slightest sign of having understood a word of what she had said to him, +at which she was exceedingly distressed and vexed; and she knew not to +what cause to impute her failure, unless it were to the foolish fear of +which she deemed the gentleman to be possessed. + +A few days afterwards, finding that he gave no sign of understanding +what she had said, she resolved on her part to set aside all fear or +shame, and to tell him of her love. She felt sure that beauty such as +hers could not be otherwise than well received, although she would fain +have had the honour of being wooed. However, she set her honour on one +side for her pleasure's sake, and after she had several times attempted +the same fashion of discourse as at first, but without receiving any +reply to her liking, she one day plucked the gentleman by the sleeve, +and told him that she must speak to him on certain matters of weight. +The gentleman went with the humility and reverence that were her due to +a deep window into which she had withdrawn; and, on perceiving that +no one in the room could see her, she began in a trembling voice, +that halted between desire and fear, to continue her former discourse, +rebuking him for not yet having chosen some lady in the company, and +promising him that, no matter who it might be, she would help him to win +kindly treatment. + +The gentleman, who was no less vexed than astonished by her words, +replied-- + +"Madam, my heart is so tender, that, were I once refused, I should never +again have joy in this world; and I know myself to be of such little +worth that no lady at this Court would deign to accept my suit." + +The Duchess blushed, and, imagining that at last he was indeed won, +vowed to him that she knew the most beautiful lady in the company +would, if he were willing, joyfully receive him, and afford him perfect +happiness. + +"Alas! madam," he replied, "I do not think that there is any woman in +this company so unfortunate and so blind as to find me worthy of her +love." + +The Duchess, finding that he would not understand her, drew the veil +of her passion somewhat aside, and, by reason of the fears which the +gentleman's virtue caused her, spoke to him in the form of a question. + +"If fortune," she said, "had so far favoured you that it was myself who +bore you this goodwill, what would you say?" + +The gentleman, who thought that he was dreaming when he heard her speak +in this wise, dropped on his knee, and replied-- + +"Madam, when God by His favour enables me to have both the favour of +the Duke, my master, and your own, I shall deem myself the happiest man +alive; for 'tis the reward I crave for the loyal service of one who, +more than any other, is bound to give his life in the service of you +both. And I am sure, madam, that the love you bear my Lord aforesaid is +attended with such chastity and nobleness that, apart from myself, +who am but a worm of the earth, not even the greatest Prince and most +perfect man to be found could break the union that exists between you. +For my own part, my Lord has brought me up from childhood, and made me +what I am, and to save my life I could not entertain towards any wife, +daughter, sister or mother of his any thought contrary to what is due +from a loyal and faithful servant." + +The Duchess would not allow him to continue, but finding that she was +in danger of obtaining a dishonourable refusal, she suddenly interrupted +him, and said-- + +"Wicked and boastful fool, who seeks any such thing from you? Do you +think that your good looks win you the love of the very flies in the +air? Nay, if you were presumptuous enough to address yourself to me, I +would show you that I love, and seek to love, none but my husband. What +I have said to you was spoken only for my amusement, to try you and +laugh at you, as I do at all foolish lovers." + +"Madam," said the gentleman, "I believed, and do still believe, that it +is as you say." + +Then, without listening further, she withdrew in haste to her own +apartment, and, finding that she was followed by her ladies, went into +her closet, where she sorrowed after a fashion that cannot be described. +On the one part, the love wherein she had failed caused her mortal +sadness; on the other, her anger, both against herself for having +entered upon such foolish talk and against the gentleman for his +discreet reply, drove her into such fury that at one moment she wished +to make away with herself, and at another, to live that she might avenge +herself on one whom she now regarded as her deadly enemy. + +When she had wept for a long while, she made pretence of being ill, in +order that she might not be present at the Duke's supper, at which the +gentleman was commonly in waiting. The Duke, who loved his wife better +than he did himself, came to see her; but the more effectually to work +her end, she told him that she believed herself to be with child, and +that her pregnancy had caused a rheum to come upon her eyes, which gave +her much pain. So passed two or three days, during which the Duchess +kept her bed in sadness and melancholy, until at last the Duke thought +that something further must be the matter. He therefore came at night +to sleep with her; but, finding that for all he could do he could in no +sort check her sighs, he said to her-- + +"You know, sweetheart, that I love you as dearly as my life, and that +if yours were lacking I could not endure my own. If therefore you would +preserve my health, I pray you tell me what causes you to sigh after +this manner; for I cannot believe that such unhappiness can come only +because you are with child." + +The Duchess, finding that her husband was disposed to her just as she +could have wished him to be, thought that the time was come to seek +vengeance for her affliction; and embracing the Duke, she began to weep, +and said-- + +"Alas, my lord, my greatest unhappiness is to see you deceived by +those on whom is so deep an obligation to guard your substance and your +honour." + +The Duke, on hearing this, was very desirous of knowing why she spoke +in that manner, and earnestly begged her to make the truth known to him +without fear. After refusing several times, she said-- + +"I shall never wonder, my lord, that foreigners make war on Princes, +when those who are in duty most bound to them, wage upon them a war so +cruel that loss of territory were nothing in comparison. I say this, +my lord, in reference to a certain gentleman" (naming her enemy) "who, +though reared by your own hand and treated more like a son than a +servant, has made a cruel and base attempt to ruin the honour of your +wife, in which is also bound up the honour of your house and your +children. Although for a long time he showed me such looks as pointed to +his wicked purpose, yet my heart, which only cares for you, understood +nothing of them; and so at last he declared himself in words to which +I returned a reply such as beseemed my condition and my chastity. +Nevertheless, I now so hate him that I cannot endure to look at him, +and for this cause I have continued in my own apartment and lost the +happiness of fellowship with you. I entreat you, my lord, keep not this +pestilence near your person; for, after such a crime, he might fear lest +I should tell you of it, and so attempt worse. This, my lord, is the +cause of my sorrow, and methinks it were right and fitting that you +should deal with it forthwith." + +The Duke, who on the one hand loved his wife and felt himself grievously +affronted, and on the other loved his servant, whose faithfulness he had +so fully tried that he could scarce believe this falsehood against him, +was in great distress and filled with anger. Repairing to his own room, +he sent word to the gentleman to come no more into his presence, but to +withdraw to his lodging for a time. The gentleman, being ignorant of the +cause of this, was grieved exceedingly, for he knew that he had deserved +the opposite of such unworthy treatment. Aware, then, of his own +innocence in heart and deed, he sent a comrade to speak to the Duke and +take him a letter, humbly entreating that if any evil report had caused +his banishment, his master would be pleased to suspend judgment until he +had heard from himself the truth of the matter, when it would be found +that he had been guilty of no offence. + +When the Duke saw this letter, his anger was somewhat abated. He +secretly sent for the gentleman to his own room, and with wrathful +countenance said-- + +"I could never have thought that the care I took to rear you as my own +child would be changed into regret at having so highly advanced you; +but you have attempted what was more hurtful to me than loss of life +or substance, and have sought to assail the honour of one who is half +myself, and so bring infamy on my house and name. You may be assured +that this outrage is so wounding to my heart that, were it not for my +doubt whether it be true or not, you would have already been at the +bottom of the water, and so have received in secret due punishment for +the wrong that in secret you intended against me." + +The gentleman was in no wise dismayed by this discourse, but, ignorant +as he was of the truth, spoke forth with confidence and entreated the +Duke to name his accuser, since such a charge should be justified rather +with the lance than with the tongue. + +"Your accuser," said the Duke, "carries no weapon but chastity. Know, +then, that none other but my wife has told me this, and she begged me to +take vengeance upon you." + +The poor gentleman, though he then perceived the lady's great +wickedness, would not accuse her. + +"My lord," he replied, "my lady may say what she will. You know her +better than I do, and you are aware if ever I saw her when out of your +sight, save only on one occasion, when she spoke but little with me. +You have, moreover, as sound a judgment as any Prince alive; wherefore I +pray you, my lord, judge whether you have ever seen aught in me to cause +any suspicion; and remember love is a fire that cannot be hidden so as +never to be known of by those who have had a like distemper. So I pray +you, my lord, to believe two things of me: first, that my loyalty to you +is such that were my lady, your wife, the fairest being in the world, +love would never avail to make me stain my honour and fidelity; and +secondly, that even were she not your wife, I should be least in love +with her of all the women I have ever known, since there are many others +to whom I would sooner plight my troth." + +On hearing these words of truth, the Duke began to be softened, and +said-- + +"I assure you, on my part, that I did not believe it. Do, therefore, +according to your wont, in the assurance that, if I find the truth to be +on your side, I will love you yet better than before. But if it be not +so, your life is in my hands." + +The gentleman thanked him and offered to submit to any pain or penalty +if he were found guilty. + +The Duchess, on seeing the gentleman again in waiting as had formerly +been his wont, could not endure it in patience, but said to her +husband-- + +"'Twould be no more than you deserve, my lord, if you were poisoned, +since you put more trust in your deadly enemies than in your friends." + +"I pray you, sweetheart, do not torment yourself in this matter," said +the Duke. "If I find that you have told me true, I promise you he shall +not live four and twenty hours. But he has sworn to the contrary, and I +have myself never perceived any such fault, and so I cannot believe it +without complete proof." + +"In good sooth, my lord," she replied, "your goodness renders his +wickedness the greater. What more complete proof would you have than +this, that no love affair has ever been imputed to him? Believe me, my +lord, were it not for the lofty purpose that he took into his head of +being my lover, he would not have continued so long without a mistress; +for never did a young man live solitary as he does in such good company, +unless he had fixed his heart so high as to be content merely with his +own vain hope. Since, then, you think that he is not hiding the truth +from you, put him, I beg you, on oath as regards his love. If he loves +another, I am content that you should believe him, and if not, you will +know that what I say is true." + +The Duke thought his wife's reasonings very good, and, taking the +gentleman into the country with him, said-- + +"My wife continues still of the same mind, and has set before me an +argument that causes me grave suspicion against you. It is deemed +strange that you who are so gallant and young have never been known to +love, and this makes me think that you have such affection for her as +she says, and that the hope it gives you renders you content to think +of no other woman. As a friend, therefore, I pray you, and as a master I +command you to tell me whether you are in love with any lady on earth." + +Although the gentleman would have fain concealed his passion yet as +he loved his life, he was obliged, on seeing his master's jealousy, to +swear to him that he did indeed love one whose beauty was so great, that +the beauty of the Duchess or of any lady of the Court would be simply +ugliness beside it. But he entreated that he might never be compelled to +name her, since the agreement between himself and his sweetheart was of +such a nature that it could not be broken excepting by whichever of them +should be the first to make it known. + +The Duke promised not to urge him, and being quite satisfied with him, +treated him with more kindness than ever before. The Duchess perceived +this, and set herself with her wonted craft to find out the reason. +The Duke did not hide it from her; whereupon strong jealousy sprang up +beside her desire for vengeance, and she begged her husband to command +the gentleman to name his sweetheart. She assured him that the story was +a lie, and that the course she urged was the best means of testing +it. If the gentleman, said she, did not name her whom he deemed so +beautiful, and his master believed him on his mere word, he would indeed +be the most foolish Prince alive. + +The poor Duke, whose wife directed his thoughts at her pleasure, went to +walk alone with the gentleman, and told him that he was in even greater +trouble than before; for he was greatly minded to believe that he had +been given an excuse to keep him from suspecting the truth. This was a +greater torment to him than ever; and he therefore begged the gentleman, +as earnestly as he was able, to name her whom he loved so dearly. The +poor gentleman entreated that he might not be made to commit so great +an offence against his mistress as to break the promise he had given her +and had kept so long, and thus lose in a day all that he had preserved +for seven years. And he added that he would rather suffer death than in +this wise wrong one who had been true to him. + +The Duke, finding that he would not tell him, became deeply jealous, and +with a wrathful countenance exclaimed-- + +"Well, choose one of two things: either tell me whom you love more than +any other, or else go into banishment from the territories over which +I rule, under pain of a cruel death if you be found within them after a +week is over." + +If ever heart of loyal servant was torn with anguish, it was so with +that of this poor gentleman, who might well have said, _Angustiae sunt +mihi undique_, for on the one part he saw that by telling the truth +he would lose his mistress, if she learned that he had failed in his +promise to her; while, if he did not confess it, he would be banished +from the land in which she dwelt, and be no more able to see her. Hard +pressed in this manner on all sides, there came upon him a cold sweat, +as on one whose sorrow was bringing him near to death. The Duke, +observing his looks, concluded that he loved no other lady than the +Duchess, and was enduring this suffering because he was able to name +none other. He therefore said to him with considerable harshness-- + +"If what you say were true, you would not have so much trouble in +telling me; but methinks 'tis your crime that is tormenting you." + +The gentleman, piqued by these words, and impelled by the love that he +bore his master, resolved to tell him the truth, believing that he was +too honourable a man ever, on any account, to reveal it. Accordingly, +throwing himself upon his knees, and clasping his hands, he said-- + +"My lord, the duty that I owe to you and the love that I bear you +constrain me more than the fear of any death. I can see that you imagine +and judge falsely concerning me, and, to take this trouble from you, I +am resolved to do that to which no torment had compelled me. But I pray +you, my lord, swear to me by the honour of God, and promise me by your +own faith as a Prince and a Christian, that you will never reveal the +secret which, since it so pleases you, I am obliged to tell." + +Upon this the Duke swore to him with all the oaths he could think of +that he would never reveal aught of it to any living being, whether by +speech, or writing, or feature. Then the young man, feeling confidence +in so virtuous a Prince as he knew his master to be, began the building +up of his misfortune, and said-- + +"It is now seven years, my lord, since knowing your niece, the Lady +du Vergier, to be a widow and without kindred, I set myself to win her +favour. But, since I was of too lowly a birth to wed her, I contented +myself with being received by her as her true knight, as indeed I have +been. And it has pleased God that the affair has hitherto been contrived +with much discretion, so that neither man nor woman knows of it save +ourselves alone, and now, my lord, you also. I place my life and honour +in your hands, entreating you to keep the matter secret and to esteem +your niece none the less; for I think that under heaven there is no more +perfect being." + +If ever man was rejoiced it was the Duke, for, knowing as he did the +exceeding beauty of his niece, he now had no doubt that she was more +pleasing than his wife. However, being unable to understand how so great +a mystery could have been contrived, he begged the gentleman to tell +him how it was that he was able to see her. The gentleman related to him +then that his lady's chamber looked upon a garden, and that, on the days +when he was to visit her, a little gate was left open through which he +went in on foot until he heard the barking of a little dog which the +lady used to loose in the garden when all her women were withdrawn. Then +he went and conversed with her all night long, and, in parting from +her, would appoint a day on which he would return; and this appointment, +unless for some weighty reason, he never failed to keep. The Duke, who +was the most inquisitive man alive, and who had made love in no small +degree in his day, wished both to satisfy his suspicions and to fully +understand so strange a business; and he therefore begged the gentleman +to take him, not as a master but as a companion, the next time he went +thither. To this the gentleman, having gone so far already, consented, +saying that he had an appointment for that very day; at which the Duke +was as glad as if he had gained a kingdom. Making pretence of retiring +to rest in his closet, he caused two horses to be brought for himself +and the gentleman, and they travelled all night long from Argilly, where +the Duke lived, to Le Vergier. (2) + + 2 At Argilly the Dukes of Burgundy had a castle, which was + destroyed during the religious wars at the close of the + sixteenth century. The place is now a small village in the + arrondissement of Nuits, Cote d'Or. As the crow flies, it is + some ten miles distant from the ruins of the castle of + Vergy, which stands on a steep height, at an altitude of + over 1600 ft., within five miles from Nuits. The castle, + which can only be reached on one side of the hill, by a + narrow, winding and precipitous pathway, is known to have + been in existence already in the tenth century, when the + Lords of Vergy were Counts of Chalons, Beaune, and Nuits. + They appear to have engaged in a struggle for supremacy with + the princes of the first Ducal house of Burgundy, but in + 1193 Alix de Vergy espoused Duke Eudes III., to whom she + brought, as dower, the greater part of the paternal + inheritance. The castle of Vergy was dismantled by Henry + IV., and the existing ruins are of small extent. Some + antiquaries believe the fortress to have been originally + built by the Romans.--B.J. and L. + +Then they left their horses without the wall, and the gentleman brought +the Duke into the garden through the little gate, begging him to remain +behind a walnut-tree, whence he might see whether he had been told the +truth or not. + +They had been but a short time in the garden when the little dog began +to bark, and the gentleman walked towards the tower, where his lady +failed not to come and meet him. She kissed him, saying that it seemed +a thousand years since she had seen him, and then they went into the +chamber and shut the door behind them. + +Having seen the whole of the mystery, the Duke felt more than satisfied. +Nor had he a great while to wait, for the gentleman told his mistress +that he must needs return sooner than was his wont, since the Duke was +to go hunting at four o'clock, and he durst not fail to attend him. + +The lady, who set honour before delight, would not keep him from +fulfilling his duty; for what she prized most in their honourable +affection was that it was kept secret from all. + +So the gentleman departed an hour after midnight, and his lady in cloak +and kerchief went with him, yet not so far as she wished, for, fearing +lest she should meet the Duke, he obliged her to return. Then he +mounted with the Duke and returned to the castle of Argilly, his master +unceasingly swearing to him on the way that he would die rather than +ever reveal his secret. Moreover, he then put so much trust in the +gentleman, and had so much love for him, that no one in his Court stood +higher in his favour. The Duchess grew furious at this, but the Duke +forbade her ever to speak to him about the gentleman again, saying that +he now knew the truth about him and was well pleased, since the lady +in question was more worthy of love than herself. These words deeply +pierced the heart of the Duchess, and she fell into a sickness that was +worse than fever. + +The Duke went to see her in order to comfort her, but there was no +means of doing this except by telling her the name of this beautiful and +dearly loved lady. She pressed him urgently to do this, until at last +the Duke went out of the room, saying-- + +"If you speak to me again after this fashion, we shall part one from the +other." + +These words increased the sickness of the Duchess, and she pretended +that she felt her infant stirring, at which the Duke was so rejoiced +that he came and lay beside her. But, just when she saw him most loving +towards her, she turned away, and said-- + +"I pray you, my lord, since you have no love for either wife or child, +leave us to die together." + +With these words she gave vent to many tears and lamentations, and the +Duke was in great fear lest she should lose her child. He therefore took +her in his arms and begged her to tell him what she would have, since he +possessed nothing that was not also hers. + +"Ah, my lord," she replied, weeping, "what hope can I have that you +would do a hard thing for me, when you will not do the easiest and most +reasonable in the world, which is to name to me the mistress of the +wickedest servant you ever had? I thought that you and I had but one +heart, one soul, and one flesh. But now I see that you look upon me as +a stranger, seeing that your secrets, which should be known to me, are +hidden from me as though I were a stranger. Alas! my lord, you have told +me many weighty and secret matters, of which you have never known me to +speak, you have proved my will to be like to your own, and you cannot +doubt but that I am less myself than you. And if you have sworn never to +tell the gentleman's secret to another, you will not break your oath in +telling it to me, for I am not and cannot be other than yourself. I have +you in my heart, I hold you in my arms, I have in my womb a child in +whom you live, and yet I may not have your heart as you have mine. The +more faithful and true I am to you, the more cruel and stern are you to +me, so that a thousand times a day do I long by a sudden death to rid +my child of such a father and myself of such a husband. And I hope that +this will be ere long, since you set a faithless servant before a wife +such as 1 am to you, and before the life of the mother of your child, +which will perish because I cannot have of you that which I most desire +to know." + +So saying, she embraced and kissed her husband, and watered his face +with her tears, uttering the while such lamentations and sighs that the +good Prince feared to lose wife and child together, and resolved to tell +her all the truth of the matter. Nevertheless, he first swore to her +that if ever she revealed it to a living being she should die by his +own hand; and she agreed to and accepted this punishment. Then the poor, +deceived husband told her all that he had seen from beginning to end, +and she made show of being well pleased. In her heart she was minded +very differently, but through fear of the Duke she concealed her passion +as well as she was able. + +Now on a certain great feast-day the Duke held his Court, to which he +had bidden all the ladies of that country, and among the rest his +niece. When the dances began, all did their duty save the Duchess, who, +tormented by the sight of her niece's beauty and grace, could neither +make merry nor prevent her spleen from being perceived. At last she +called all the ladies, and making them scat themselves around her, began +to talk of love; and seeing that the Lady du Vergier said nothing, she +asked her, with a heart which jealousy was rending-- + +"And you, fair niece, is it possible that your beauty has found no lover +or true knight?" + +"Madam," replied the Lady du Vergier, "my beauty has not yet made such +a conquest. Since my husband's death I have sought to love none but his +children, with whom I deem myself happy." + +"Fair niece, fair niece," replied the Duchess, with hateful spleen, +"there is no love so secret that it is not known, and no little dog so +well broken in and trained that it cannot be heard to bark." + +I leave you to imagine, ladies, what sorrow the poor Lady du Vergier +felt in her heart on finding a matter, so long concealed, thus made +known to her great dishonour. Her honour, which had been so carefully +guarded and was now wofully lost, tortured her, but still more so her +suspicion that her lover had failed in his promise to her. This she did +not think he could have done, unless it were that he loved some lady +fairer than herself, to whom his love had constrained him to make the +whole matter known. Yet so great was her discretion that she gave no +sign, but replied laughing to the Duchess that she did not understand +the language of animals. However, beneath this prudent concealment her +heart was filled with sadness, so that she rose up, and, passing out of +the chamber, entered a closet in sight of the Duke, who was walking up +and down. + +Having thus reached a place where she believed herself to be alone, the +poor lady let herself fall helplessly upon a bed, whereat a damsel, who +had sat down beside it to sleep, rose up and drew back the curtains +to see who this might be. Finding that it was the Lady du Vergier, +who believed herself to be alone, she durst say nothing to her, but +listened, making as little noise as she was able. And in a stifled voice +the poor Lady du Vergier began to lament, saying-- + +"O unhappy one, what words have I heard? to what decree of death have I +hearkened? what final sentence have I received? O best beloved of men, +is this the reward of my chaste, honourable and virtuous love? O my +heart, hast thou made so parlous an election, and chosen for the +most loyal the most faithless, for the truest the most false, for the +discreetest the most slanderous? Alas! can it be that a thing hidden +from every human eye has been revealed to the Duchess? Alas, my little +dog, so well taught and the sole instrument of my love and virtuous +affection, it was not you who betrayed me, it was he whose voice is +louder than a dog's bark, and whose heart is more thankless than any +brute's. Tis he who, contrary to his oath and promise, has made known +the happy life which, wronging none, we so long have led together. O my +beloved, the love of whom alone has entered into my heart, and preserved +my life, must you now be declared my deadly foe, while mine honour is +given to the winds, my body to the dust, and my soul to its everlasting +abode? Is the beauty of the Duchess so exceeding great that, like the +beauty of Circe, it has bewitched and transformed you? Has she turned +you from virtue to vice, from goodness to wickedness, from being a man +to be a beast of prey? O my beloved, though you have failed in your +promise to me, yet will I keep mine to you, and, now that our love has +been revealed, will never see you more. Nevertheless, I cannot live +without your presence, and so I gladly yield to my exceeding sorrow, and +will seek for it no cure either in reason or in medicine. Death alone +shall end it, and death will be sweeter to me than life on earth without +lover, honour or happiness. Neither war nor death has robbed me of my +lover; no sin or fault of mine has robbed me of my honour; neither error +nor demerit of mine has made me lose my joy. 'Tis cruel fate that +has rendered the most favoured of men thankless, and has caused me to +receive the contrary of that which I deserved. + +"Ah, my Lady Duchess, what delight it was to you to taunt me with my +little dog! Rejoice, then, in the happiness you owe to me alone; taunt +her who thought by careful concealment and virtuous love to be free from +any taunt. Ah! how those words have bruised my heart! how they have made +me blush for shame and pale for jealousy! Alas, my heart, I feel that +thou art indeed undone! The wicked love that has discovered me burns +thee; jealousy of thee and evil intent towards thee are to thee as ice +and death; while wrath and sorrow do not suffer me to comfort thee. +Alas, poor soul, that in adoring the creature didst forget the Creator, +thou must return into the hands of Him from whom vain love tore thee +away. Have trust, my soul, that thou wilt find in Him a Father kinder +than was the lover for whose sake thou hast so often forgotten Him. O my +God, my Creator, Thou who art the true and perfect love, by whose grace +the love I bore to my beloved has been stained by no blemish save +that of too great an affection, I implore Thee in mercy to receive the +soul-and spirit of one who repents that she has broken thy first and +most just commandment. And, through the merits of Him whose love passeth +all understanding, forgive the error into which excess of love has led +me, for in Thee alone do I put my perfect trust. And farewell, O my +beloved, whose empty name doth break my very heart." + +With these words she fell backward, and her face grew pallid, her lips +blue, and her extremities cold. + +Just at this moment the gentleman she loved came into the hall, and, +seeing the Duchess dancing with the ladies, looked everywhere for his +sweetheart. Not finding her, he went into the chamber of the Duchess, +and there found the Duke, who was walking up and down, and who, guessing +his purpose, whispered in his ear-- + +"She went into that closet, and methought she was ill." + +The gentleman asked whether he would be pleased to let him go in, and +the Duke begged him to do so. When he entered the closet he found the +Lady du Vergier, come to the last stage of her mortal life; whereat, +throwing his arms about her, he said-- + +"What is this, sweetheart? Would you leave me?" + +The poor lady, hearing the voice that she knew so well, recovered a +little strength and opened her eyes to look upon him who was the cause +of her death; but at this look her love and anguish waxed so great that, +with a piteous sigh, she yielded up her soul to God. + +The gentleman, more dead than the dead woman herself, asked the damsel +who was there how this sickness had come upon his sweetheart, and she +told him all the words that she had heard. Then the gentleman knew that +the Duke had revealed the secret to his wife, and felt such frenzy that, +whilst embracing his sweetheart's body, he for a long time watered it +with his tears, saying-- + +"O traitorous, wicked and unhappy lover that I am! why has not the +punishment of my treachery fallen upon me, and not upon her who is +innocent? Why was I not struck by a bolt from heaven on the day when my +tongue revealed the secret and virtuous love between us? Why did not +the earth open to swallow up this traitor to his troth? O tongue, mayest +thou be punished as was the tongue of the wicked rich man in hell! + +"O heart, too fearful of death and banishment, mayest thou be torn +continually by eagles as was the heart of Ixion! (3) + + 3 Queen Margaret's memory plainly failed her here.--Ed. + +"Alas, sweetheart, the greatest of all the greatest woes has fallen upon +me! I thought to keep you, but I have lost you; I thought to see you for +a long time and to abide with you in sweet and honourable content, yet +now I embrace your dead body, and you passed away in sore displeasure +with me, with my heart and with my tongue. O most loyal and faithful of +women, I do confess myself the most disloyal, fickle and faithless of +all men. Gladly would I complain of the Duke in whose promise I trusted, +hoping thus to continue our happy life; but alas! I should have known +that none could keep our secret better than I kept it myself. The Duke +had more reason in telling his secret to his wife than I in telling mine +to him. I accuse none but myself of the greatest wickedness that was +ever done between lovers. I ought to have submitted to be cast into the +moat as he threatened to do with me; at least, sweetheart, you would +then have lived in widowhood and I have died a glorious death in +observing the law that true love enjoins. But through breaking it I am +now in life, and you, through perfectness of love, are dead; for your +pure, clear heart could not bear to know the wickedness of your lover. + +"O my God! why didst Thou endow me with so light a love and so ignorant +a heart? Why didst thou not create me as the little dog that faithfully +served his mistress? Alas, my little friend, the joy your bark was wont +to give me is turned to deadly sorrow, now that another than we twain +has heard your voice. Yet, sweetheart, neither the love of the Duchess +nor of any living woman turned me aside, though indeed that wicked one +did often ask and entreat me. 'Twas by my ignorance, which thought to +secure our love for ever, that I was overcome. Yet for that ignorance am +I none the less guilty; for I revealed my sweetheart's secret and broke +my promise to her, and for this cause alone do I see her lying dead +before my eyes. Alas, sweetheart, death will to me be less cruel than +to you, whose love has ended your innocent life. Methinks it would not +deign to touch my faithless and miserable heart; for life with dishonour +and the memory of that which I have lost through guilt would be harder +to bear than ten thousand deaths. Alas, sweetheart, had any dared to +slay you through mischance or malice, I should quickly have clapped hand +to sword to avenge you; 'tis therefore right that I should not pardon +the murderer who has caused your death by a more wicked act than any +sword-thrust. Did I know a viler executioner than myself, I would +entreat him to put your traitorous lover to death. O Love! I have +offended thee from not having known how to love, and therefore thou wilt +not succour me as thou didst succour her who kept all thy laws. 'Tis not +right that I should die after so honourable a manner; but 'tis well that +I should die by mine own hand. I have washed your face, sweet, with my +tears, and with my tongue have craved your forgiveness; and now it only +remains for my hand to make my body like unto yours, and send my soul +whither yours will go, in the knowledge that a virtuous and honourable +love can never end, whether in this world or in the next." + +Rising up from the body he then, like a frenzied man beside himself, +drew his dagger and with great violence stabbed himself to the heart. +Then he again took his sweetheart in his arms, kissing her with such +passion that it seemed as though he were seized rather with love than +with death. + +The damsel, seeing him deal himself the blow, ran to the door and called +for help. The Duke, on hearing the outcry, suspected misfortune to those +he loved, and was the first to enter the closet, where he beheld the +piteous pair. He sought to separate them, and, if it were possible, to +save the gentleman; but the latter clasped his sweetheart so fast that +he could not be taken from her until he was dead. Nevertheless he heard +the Duke speaking to him and saying--"Alas! what is the cause of this?" +To which, with a glance of fury, he replied--"My tongue, my lord, and +yours." So saying, he died, with his face close pressed to that of his +mistress. + +The Duke, wishing to know more of the matter, made the damsel tell him +what she had seen and heard; and this she did at full length, sparing +nothing. Then the Duke, finding that he was himself the cause of all +this woe, threw himself upon the two dead lovers, and, with great +lamentation and weeping, kissed both of them several times and asked +their forgiveness. And after that he rose up in fury, and drew the +dagger from the gentleman's body; and, just as a wild boar, wounded with +a spear, rushes headlong against him that has dealt the blow, so did the +Duke now seek out her who had wounded him to the bottom of his soul. He +found her dancing in the hall, and more merry than was her wont at +the thought of the excellent vengeance she had wreaked on the Lady du +Vergier. + +The Duke came upon her in the midst of the dance, and said-- + +"You took the secret upon your life, and upon your life shall fall the +punishment." + +So saying, he seized her by the head-dress and stabbed her with the +dagger in the breast. All the company were astonished, and it was +thought that the Duke was out of his mind; but, having thus worked his +will, he brought all his retainers together in the hall and told them +the virtuous and pitiful story of his niece, and the evil that his wife +had wrought her. And those who were present wept whilst they listened. + +Then the Duke ordered that his wife should be buried in an abbey which +he founded partly to atone for the sin that he had committed in killing +her; and he caused a beautiful tomb to be built, in which the bodies of +his niece and the gentleman were laid together, with an epitaph setting +forth their tragic story. And the Duke undertook an expedition against +the Turks, in which God so favoured him, that he brought back both +honour and profit. On his return, he found his eldest son now able to +govern his possessions, and so left all to him, and went and became a +monk in the abbey where his wife and the two lovers were buried. And +there did he spend his old age happily with God. + +"Such, ladies, is the story which you begged me to relate, and which, +as I can see from your eyes, you have not heard without compassion. It +seems to me that you should take example by it, and beware of placing +your affections upon men; for, however honourable or virtuous these +affections may be, in the end they have always an aftertaste of evil. +You see how St. Paul would not that even married people should so +deeply love each other; (4) for the more our hearts are set upon earthly +things, the more remote are they from heavenly affection, and the harder +is the tie to be broken. I therefore pray you, ladies, ask God for His +Holy Spirit, who will so fire your hearts with the love of God, that +when death comes, you will not be pained at leaving that which you love +too well in this world." + + 4 I _Corinthians_ vii. 32-5.--M. + +"If their love," said Geburon, "was as honourable as you describe, why +was it needful to keep it so secret?" + +"Because," said Parlamente, "the wickedness of men is so great, that +they can never believe deep love to be allied with honour, but judge +men and women to be wicked according to their own passions. Hence, if a +woman has a dear friend other than one of her nearest kinsfolk, she must +speak with him in secret if she would speak long with him; for a woman's +honour is attacked, whether she love virtuously or viciously, since +people judge only from appearances." + +"But," said Geburon, "when a secret of that kind is revealed, people +think far worse of it." + +"I grant you that," said Longarine; "and so it is best not to love at +all." + +"We appeal from that sentence," said Dagoucin, "for, did we believe the +ladies to be without love, we would fain be ourselves without life. I +speak of those who live but to win love: and, even if they secure it +not, yet the hope of it sustains them and prompts them to do a thousand +honourable deeds, until old age changes their fair sufferings to other +pains. But, did we think that ladies were without love, it were needful +we should turn traders instead of soldiers, and instead of winning fame, +think only of hea'ping up riches." + +"You would say, then," said Hircan, "that, were there no women, we +should all be dastards, as though we had no courage save such as they +put into us. But I am of quite the opposite opinion, and hold that +nothing weakens a man's courage so much as to consort with women or love +them too much. For this reason the Jews would not suffer a man to go to +the war within a year after his marriage, lest love for his wife should +draw him back from the dangers that he ought to seek." (5) + + 5 See _Deuteronomy_ xx. 5, 6, 7; and the comments thereon + of Rabelais (book iii. ch. vi.).--M. + +"I consider that law," said Saffredent, "to have been without reason, +for nothing will more readily make a man leave his home than marriage. +The war without is not harder of endurance than the war within; and I +think that, to make men desirous of going into foreign lands instead of +lingering by their hearths, it were only needful to marry them." + +"It is true," said Ennasuite, "that marriage takes from them the care +of their houses; for they trust in their wives, and for their own part +think only of winning fame, feeling certain that their wives will give +due heed to the profit." + +"However that may be," replied Saffredent, "I am glad that you are of my +opinion." + +"But," said Parlamente, "you are not discussing what is chiefly to be +considered, and that is why the gentleman, who was the cause of all the +misfortune, did not as quickly die of grief as she who was innocent." + +Nomerfide replied-- + +"'Twas because women love more truly than men." + +"Nay," said Simontault, "'twas because the jealousy and spitefulness of +women make them die without knowing the reason, whereas men are led by +their prudence to inquire into the truth of the matter. When this has +been learnt through their sound sense, they display their courage, as +this gentleman did; for, as soon as he understood the reason of his +sweetheart's misfortune, he showed how truly he loved her and did not +spare his own life." + +"Yet," said Ennasuite, "she died of true love, for her steadfast and +loyal heart could not endure to be so deceived." + +"It was her jealousy," said Simontault, "which would not yield to +reason, so that she believed evil of her lover of which he was not +guilty at all. Moreover, her death was matter of necessity, for she +could not prevent it, whilst her lover's death was voluntary, after he +had recognised his own wrongdoing." + +"Still," said Nomerfide, "the love must needs be great that causes such +deep sorrow." + +"Have no fear of it," said Hircan, "for you will never die of that kind +of fever." + +"Nor," said Nomerfide, "will you ever kill yourself after recognising +your error." + +Here Parlamente, who suspected that the dispute was being carried on at +her own expense, said, laughing-- + +"'Tis enough that two persons should have died of love, without two +others fighting for the same cause. And there is the last bell sounding +for vespers, which will have us gone whether you be willing or not." + +By her advice the whole company then rose and went to hear vespers, not +forgetting in their fervent prayers the souls of those true lovers, for +whom, also, the monks, of their charity, said a _De profundis_. As long +as supper lasted there was no talk save of the Lady du Vergier, and +then, when they had spent a little time together, they withdrew to their +several apartments, and so brought to an end the Seventh Day. + + +[Illustration: 213.jpg Tailpiece] + + + + +EIGHTH DAY. + +_On the Eighth Day relation is made of the greatest yet truest follies +that each can remember_. + + + + +PROLOGUE. + +When morning was come they inquired whether their bridge (1) were being +well advanced, and found that it might be finished in two or three days. +These were not welcome tidings to some among the company, for they +would gladly have had the work last a longer time, so as to prolong +the happiness that they enjoyed in this pleasant mode of life. Finding, +however, that only two or three such days were left, they resolved to +turn them to account, and begged the Lady Oisille to give them their +spiritual nourishment as had been her wont. This she forthwith did, +but she detained them longer than usual, for before setting forth she +desired to finish reading the canonical writings of St. John; and so +well did she acquit herself of this, that it seemed as if the Holy +Spirit in all His love and sweetness spoke by her mouth. Glowing with +this heavenly flame, they went to hear high mass, and afterwards dined +together, again speaking of the past day, and doubting whether they +could make another as fair. + + 1 The allusion is to the bridge over the Gave spoken of in + the General Prologue (_ante_, vol. i. p. 25-6).--M. + +In order to set about it, they retired to their own rooms until it was +time to repair to their Chamber of Accounts on the Board of Green Grass, +where they found the monks already arrived and in their places. + +When all were seated, the question was put, who should begin; and +Saffredent said-- + +"You did me the honour to have me begin on two days. Methinks we should +act wrongly towards the ladies if one of them did not also begin on +two." + +"It were then needful," said the Lady Oisille, "either that we should +continue here for a great while, or else that a gentleman and a lady of +the company should forego the beginning of a day." + +"For my part," said Dagoucin, "had I been chosen, I would have given my +place to Saffredent." + +"And I," said Nomerfide, "to Parlamente, for I have been so wont to +serve that I know not how to command." + +To this all agreed, and Parlamente thus began-- + +"Ladies, the days that are past have been filled with so many tales of +wisdom, that I would beg you to fill this one with the greatest (yet +most real) follies that we can remember. So, to lead the way, I will +begin." + + +[Illustration: 219a. The Saddler's Wife Cured by the sight of her Husband +Caressing the Serving-maid] + +[The Saddler's Wife Cured by the sight of her Husband Caressing the +Serving-maid] + +[Illustration: 219.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXXI_. + + _A saddler's wife, who was grievously sick, was made whole + and recovered the power of speech, which for the space of + two days site had lost, on seeing her husband holding his + serving-maid too familiarly on the bed whilst she herself + was drawing to her end_. + +In the town of Amboise there lived one Brimbaudier, (1) saddler to the +Queen of Navarre, and a man whose colour of feature showed him to be +by nature rather a servant of Bacchus than a priest of Diana. He had +married a virtuous woman who controlled his household very discreetly, +and with whom he was well content. + + 1 Boaistuau gives the name as Bruribandier, and Gruget + transforms it into Borribaudier. M, Pifteau, after examining + the MSS., is doubtful whether Brimbaudier is the correct + reading. Bromardier, which in old French meant a tippler + (Ducange, _Briemardum_), would have been an appropriate name + for the individual referred to.--Ed. + +One day it was told him that his good wife was sick and in great danger, +at which tidings he was in the greatest trouble imaginable. He went with +all speed to her aid, and found her so low, poor woman, that she had +more need of a confessor than a doctor. Thereupon he made the most +pitiful lamentation that could be, but to represent it well 'twere +needful to speak thickly as he did, (2) and better still to paint one's +face like his. + + 2 Curiously enough, the transcriber of MS. No. 1520 + attempts to give some idea of the husband's pronunciation by + transforming all his r's into l's. Here is an example: "Je + pelz ma povle femme, que fesai-ze, moi malhureux?... M'amie + je me meuls, je suis pis que tlepasse... je ne scai que + faize," &c.--L. + +When he had done all that he could for her, she asked for the cross, and +it was brought. On seeing this, the good man flung himself upon a bed in +despair, crying and saying in his thick speech-- + +"Ah God! I am losing my poor wife! What shall I do, unhappy man that I +am?" + +After uttering many such complaints, he perceived that there was no one +in the room but a young servant-maid, passably fair and buxom, and he +called to her in a whisper. + +"Sweetheart," he said, "I am dying. I am more than dead to see your +mistress dying in this manner. I know not what to do or say, except +that I commend myself to you, and beg you to care for my house and my +children. Take therefore the keys from my side, and order the household, +for I myself can attend to nothing more." + +The poor girl had pity on him and comforted him, begging him not to +despair, so that, if she must lose her mistress, she might not also lose +her good master. + +"Sweetheart," he replied, "'tis all of no avail, for I am indeed dying. +See yourself how cold my face is; bring your cheeks close to mine and +warm them." + +With this he laid his hand upon her breast. She tried to make some +difficulty, but he begged her to have no fear, since they must indeed +see each other more closely. And speaking in this wise, he took her in +his arms and threw her upon the bed. + +Then his wife, whose only company was the cross and the holy water, +and who had not spoken for two days, began to cry out as loudly as her +feeble voice enabled her-- + +"Ah! ah! ah! I am not dead yet!" And threatening them with her hand, she +repeated--"Villain! monster! I am not dead yet!" + +On hearing her voice, the husband and maid rose up, but she was in such +a rage against them that her anger consumed the catarrhal humour that +had prevented her from speaking, and she poured upon them all the abuse +that she could think of. And from that hour she began to mend, though +not without often reproaching her husband for the little love he bore +her. (3) + + 3 This story was imitated by Noel du Fail de La Herissaye + in his _Contes d'Eutrapel_ (ch. v._ De la Goutte_), where + the hero of the incident is called Glaume Esnaut de + Tremeril. "It is said," writes Du Fail, "that the wife of + that rascal Glaume of Tremeril when at the point of death, + on seeing Glaume too familiar with her serving-woman, + recovered her senses, saying, 'Ah! wicked man, I am not yet + so low as you thought. By God's grace, mistress baggage, you + shall go forth at once.'" Curiously enough, the 1585 edition + of the _Contes d'Eutrapel_ was printed at Rennes for Noel + Glame, virtually the same name as Glaume.--M. + +"By this you see, ladies, the hypocrisy of men, and how a little +consolation will make them forget their sorrow for their wives." + +"How do you know," said Hircan, "that he had not heard that such was the +best remedy his wife could have? Since his kindly treatment availed +not to cure her, he wished to try whether the opposite would prove any +better, and the trial was a very fortunate one. But I marvel that you +who are a woman should have shown how the constitution of your sex is +brought to amendment rather by foul means than by fair." + +"Without doubt," said Longarine, "behaviour of that kind would make me +rise not merely from my bed, but from a grave such as that yonder." + +"And what wrong did he do her," asked Saffre-dent, "by comforting +himself when he thought that she was dead? It is known that the +marriage-tie lasts only through life, and that when this is ended it is +loosed." + +"Ay," said Oisille, "loosed from oath and bond, but a good heart is +never loosed from love. The husband you have told us of was indeed quick +to forget his grief, since he could not wait until his wife had breathed +her last." + +"What I think strangest of all," said Nomerfide, "is that, when death +and the cross were before his eyes, he should not have lost all desire +to offend against God." + +"A brave argument!" said Simontault. "You would therefore not be +surprised to see a man act wantonly provided he were a good distance +from the church and cemetery?" + +"You may laugh at me as much as you please," said Nomerfide; +"nevertheless the contemplation of death must greatly chill a heart, +however young it may be." + +"I should indeed be of the same opinion as yourself," said Dagoucin, "if +I had not heard a Princess say the opposite." + +"In other words." said Parlamente, "she told some story about it. If it +be so, I will give you my place that you may relate it to us." + +Then Dagoucin began as follows:-- + + +[Illustration: 224.jpg Tailpiece] + +[Illustration: 225a. The Monk Conversing with the Nun while Shrouding +a Dead Body] + +[The Monk Conversing with the Nun while Shrouding a Dead Body] + +[Illustration: 225.jpg Page Image] + + + + +_TALE LXXII_. + + _Whilst engaged in the last deed of charity, the shrouding + of a dead body, a monk did also engage with a nun in the + deeds of the flesh, and made her big with child_. (1) + + + +In one of the finest towns of France after Paris there stood an hospital +(2) richly endowed--namely, with a Prioress and fifteen or sixteen nuns, +while in another building there was a Prior and seven or eight monks. +Every day the monks said mass, but the nuns only their paternosters and +the Hours of Our Lady, for they were occupied in tending the sick. + + 1 Gruget first printed this tale, which was not given by + Boaistuau.--L. + + 2 It is impossible to say what town and hospital Margaret + here refers to. Lyons is the scene of the latter part of the + story; and we are inclined to think that the earlier + incidents may have occurred at Dijon, where there was a + famous hospital under ecclesiastical management, founded by + Eudes III., seventh Duke of Burgundy.--L. and Ed. + +One day it chanced that a poor man died, and the nuns, being all +assembled with him, after giving him every remedy for his health, sent +for one of their monks to confess him. Then, finding that he was growing +weaker, they gave him the extreme unction, after which he little by +little lost the power of speech. + +But as he was a long time in passing away, and it seemed that he could +still hear, the nuns continued speaking to him with the most comforting +words they knew, until at last they grew weary, and, finding that night +was come and that it was late, retired one after another to rest. Thus, +to shroud the body, there remained only one of the youngest of the nuns, +with a monk whom she feared more than the Prior or any other, by reason +of the severity that he displayed in both speech and life. + +When they had duly uttered their Hours in the poor man's ear, they +perceived that he was dead, and thereupon laid him out. Whilst +engaged on this last deed of charity, the monk began to speak of +the wretchedness of life, and the blessedness of death; and in such +discourse they continued until after midnight. + +The poor girl listened attentively to the monk's pious utterances, +looking at him the while with tears in her eyes; and so pleasing were +these to him that, whilst speaking of the life to come, he began +to embrace her as though he longed to bear her away in his arms to +Paradise. + +The poor girl, listening to his discourse and deeming him the most pious +of the community, ventured not to say him nay. + +Perceiving this, the wicked monk, whilst still speaking of God, +accomplished with her the work which the devil suddenly put into their +hearts--for before there had been no question of such a thing. He +assured her, however, that secret sin was not imputed to men by God, and +that two persons who had no ties, could do no wrong in this manner, +when no scandal came of it; and, to avoid all scandal, he told her to be +careful to confess to none but himself. + +So they parted each from the other, she going first. And as she passed +through a chapel dedicated to Our Lady, she was minded to make her +prayer as was her wont. But when she began with the words, "Mary, +Virgin," she remembered that she had lost the title of virginity not +through force or love, but through foolish fear; and she began to weep +so bitterly that it seemed as if her heart must break. + +The monk, hearing the sighing from a distance, suspected her repentance, +which might make him lose his delight, and to prevent this, he came and, +finding her prostrate before the image, began to rebuke her harshly, +telling her that if she had any scruples of conscience she should +confess herself to him, and that she need not so act again unless she +desired; for she might behave in either way without sin. The foolish +nun, thinking to make atonement to God, confessed herself to the monk; +but in respect of penance he swore to her that she did no sin in loving +him, and that holy water would suffice to wash away such a peccadillo. + +Believing in him more than in God, she again some time afterwards +yielded to him, and so became big with child. At this she was in deep +grief, and entreated the Prioress to have the monk turned away from his +monastery, saying that she knew him to be so crafty that he would not +fail to seduce her. The Abbess and the Prior, who understood each other, +laughed at her, saying that she was big enough to defend herself against +a man, and that the monk she spoke of was too virtuous to do such a +deed. + +At last, urged by the prickings of her conscience, she craved license +to go to Rome, for she thought that, by confessing her sin at the Pope's +feet, she might recover her virginity. This the Prior and Prioress very +readily granted her, for they were more willing that she should become +a pilgrim contrary to the rules of her order, than be shut up in the +convent with her present scruples. They feared also that in her despair +she might denounce the life that was led among them, and so gave her +money for her journey. + +But God brought it to pass that when she came to Lyons, my lady the +Duchess of Alencon, afterwards Queen of Navarre, being one evening after +vespers in the roodloft of the church of St. John, whither she came +secretly to perform a novena with three or four of her women, (3) +heard someone mounting the stairway whilst she was kneeling before the +crucifix. By the light of the lamp she saw it was a nun, and in order +that she might hear her devotions, the Duchess thereupon withdrew to the +corner of the altar. The nun, who believed herself to be alone, knelt +down and, beating her breast, began weeping so sorrowfully that it was +piteous to hear her; and all the while she cried naught but this--"Alas! +my God, take pity on this poor sinner." + + 3 See _ante_, Tale LXV., note i. + +The Duchess, wishing to learn what it meant, went up to her and said, +"Dear heart, what ails you, and whence do you come, and what brings you +to this place?" + +The poor nun, who did not know her, replied, "Ah, sweet, my woe is such +that I have no help but in God; and I pray that He may bring me to speak +with the Duchess of Alencon. To her alone will I tell the matter, for I +am sure that, if it be possible, she will set it right." + +"Dear heart," then said the Duchess, "you may speak to me as you would +to her, for I am one of her nearest friends." + +"Forgive me," said the nun; "she alone must know my secret." + +Then the Duchess told her that she might speak freely, since she had +indeed found her whom she sought. Forthwith the poor woman threw herself +at her feet, and, after she had wept, related what you have heard +concerning her hapless fortune. The Duchess consoled her so well, that +whilst she took not from her everlasting repentance for her sin, she +put from her mind the journeying to Rome, and then sent her back to her +priory with letters to the Bishop of the place to have that shameful +monk turned away. + +"I have this story from the Duchess herself, and from it you may see, +ladies, that Nomerfide's prescription is not good for all, since these +persons fell into lewdness even while touching and laying out the dead." + +"'Twas a device," said Hircan, "that methinks no man ever used before, +to talk of death and engage in the deeds of life." + +"'Tis no deed of life," said Oisille, "to sin, for it is well known that +sin begets death." + +"You may be sure," said Saffredent, "that these poor folk gave no +thought to any such theology; but just as the daughters of Lot made +their father drunk so that the human race might be preserved, so these +persons wished to repair what death had spoiled, and to replace the dead +body by a new one. I therefore can see no harm in the matter except the +tears of the poor nun, who was always weeping and always returning to +the cause of her tears." + +"I have known many of the same kind," said Hircan, "who wept for their +sins and laughed at their pleasures both together." + +"I think I know whom you mean," said Parlamente, "and their laughter has +lasted so great a while that 'twere time the tears should begin." + +"Hush!" said Hircan. "The tragedy that has begun with laughter is not +ended yet." + +"To change the subject," said Parlamente, "it seems to me that Dagoucin +departed from our purpose. We were to tell only merry tales, and his was +very piteous." + +"You said," replied Dagoucin, "that you would only tell of follies, and +I think that herein I have not been lacking. But, that we may hear a +more pleasant story, I give my vote to Nomerfide, in the hope that she +will make amends for my error." + +"I have indeed," she answered, "a story ready which is worthy to follow +yours; for it speaks of monks and death. So I pray you give good heed." + +_Here end the Tales and Novels of the late Queen of Navarre, that is, +all that can be recovered of them_. + + +[Illustration: 232.jpg Tailpiece] + + +APPENDIX. + + + + +THE SUPPOSED NARRATORS OF THE _HEPTAMERON_ TALES. + +In his introductory essay to this translation of the _Heptameron_, Mr. +George Saintsbury has called attention to the researches of various +commentators who have laboured to identify the supposed narrators of +Queen Margaret's tales. As it may be fairly assumed that the setting +of the work is pure invention on the Queen's part, the researches in +question can scarcely serve any useful purpose. Still they appear to +have had considerable attraction for several erudite editors, whose +opinions, occasionally alluded to in our notes, we will here briefly +summarise for the information of those whom the matter may interest:-- + +OISILLE, a widow lady of long experience, is supposed by Messrs. de +Lincy, Lacroix, Genin, Frank, de Montaiglon and Miss Mary Robinson to be +Louise of Savoy. In some MSS. the name is written Osyle, the anagram +of _Loyse_, in which fashion Louise was spelt in old French. It may be +pointed out, _en passant_, that Brantome's grandmother, the Senechale +of Poitou, whose connection with the _Heptameron_ is recorded, was also +named Louise (see ante, vol. i. p. lxxxii.). + +PARLAMENTE, wife of Hircan, is supposed by the same commentators to be +Queen Margaret herself; this is assumed mainly because the views +which Parlamente expresses on religion, philosophy, men and women, +are generally in accord with those which the Queen is known to have +professed. + +HIRCAN, in M. de Lincy's opinion, might be the Duke of Alencon, +Margaret's first husband. Messrs. Frank and Mont-aiglon, following M. +Lacroix, prefer to identify him as Henry d'Albret, King of Navarre. +They conjecture the name of Hircan to be derived from Ilanricus, a not +uncommon fashion of spelling Henricus. It might, however, simply come +from _hircus_, a he-goat, for Hircan is a man of gross, sensual tastes. + +LONGARINE, a young widow, is supposed by M. de Lincy to be Blanche de +Chastillon, _nee_ de Tournon (concerning whom see _ante_, vol. i. p. 84, +n. 7, and p. 120 _et seq_.; vol. iv. p. 144, n. 2; and vol. v. p. 25, n. +2). M. Frank, however, thinks she is Aimee Motier de la Fayette, lady of +_Longray_, widow of Francis de Silly, Bailiff of Caen, and _gouvernante_ +to Queen Margaret's daughter, Jane of Navarre. Miss Robinson shares this +opinion, but M. de Montaiglon thinks that _Longarine_ would rather +be Aimee Motier de la Fayette's daughter Frances, married to Frederic +d'Almenesches, of one of the branches of the house of Foix. + +SIMONTAULT (occasionally _Symontaut_), a young knight, is thought by M. +de Lincy to be Henry d'Albret, Margaret's second husband, who was of an +extremely amorous disposition, and much younger than herself. Messrs. +Frank and de Montaiglon, however, fancy _Simontault_ to have been +Francis, Baron de Bourdeilles, father of Brantome. It is admitted, +however, that if this be the case, it is curious that Brantome should +not have alluded to it in any of his writings, whereas he does speak +both of his mother and of his grandmother in connection with the +_Heptameron_. + +ENNASUITE (occasionally _Ennasuitte_ or _Ennasuicte_, and in some MSS. +_Emarsuite_), is supposed by Messrs. de Lincy, Frank, and de Montaiglon +to be Anne de Vivonne, wife of Francis de Bourdeilles and mother of +Brantome (see ante, vol. iv. p. 144, n. 2). It is pointed out that the +name may be transformed into the three words _Anne et suite_. + +DAGOUCIN, a young gentleman, is thought by M. Frank to be Nicholas Dangu +(see ante, vol. i. p. 20, n. 4, and p. 40, n. 3), who became Chancellor +to the King of Navarre. M. Lacroix, however, fancies this personage to +be a Count d'Agoust. + +GEBURON, apparently an elderly man, would in M. Frank's opinion be the +Seigneur de Burye, a captain of the Italian wars to whom Brantome (his +cousin-german) alludes in his writings. The name of de Burye is also +found in a list of the personages present at Queen Margaret's funeral. +M. de Montaiglon shares M. Frank's views. + +NOMERFIDE, so M. de Lincy suggests, may have been the famous Frances +de Foix, Countess of Chateaubriand; but M. Frank opines that she is a +Demoiselle de Fimarcon or Fiedmarcon (Lat. _Feudimarco_), who in +1525 married John de Montpczat, called "Captain Carbon," one of the +exquisites of the famous Field of the cloth of gold. Miss Robinson, +however, fancies that Nomerfide is Isabel d'Albret, sister of Margaret's +second husband, and wife of Rene de Rohan. + +SAFFREDENT, so M. de Lincy thinks, may be Admiral de Bonnivet; M. Frank +suggests John de Montpezat; and Miss Robinson Rene de Rohan, who, after +his father Peter de Rohan-Gie (husband of Rolandine, see _ante_, vol. +iii., Tale XXI, notes 2 and 15), had been killed at Pavia, was for some +years entrusted to Queen Margaret's care. As Miss Robinson points out, +_Saffredent_ literally means greedy tooth or sweet tooth. + +Those who may be desirous of studying and comparing these various +attempts at identification, will find all the evidence and arguments of +any value set forth in the writings of M. Frank, M. de Montaiglon and +Miss Robinson, which are specified in the Bibliography annexed to this +appendix.--Ed. + + + + +BIBLIOGRAPHY. + +Fourteen MS. copies of the _Heptameron_ are known to exist. Twelve +of these are at the Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris, one is at the town +library of Orleans, and one in the Vatican library. We also have some +record of four other copies which were in private libraries at the end +of the last century. + +The twelve MSS. at the Bibliotheque Nationale are the following:-- + +I. (No. 1511 in the catalogue). A folio volume bound in red morocco, +bearing the Bethune arms. This MS. is on ruled paper, and only one leaf, +the last, is missing. + +II. (No. 1512). A small folio, calf gilt, 350 leaves, from Colbert's +library. The handwriting is that of the middle of the sixteeenth +century, and is the same throughout; the last page bearing the signature +"Doulcet." This supplied the text followed in the present translation. + +III. (No. 1513). A small folio, half-bound in red morocco, stamped with +King Louis Philippe's monogram. It contains only twenty-eight of the +tales. + +IV. (No. 1514). A large quarto, calf, from the De Mesmes library. +Contains only thirty-four of the tales. + +V. (No. 1515). A small folio from Colbert's library, bound in calf, +in Groslier's style. The text is complete, but there are numerous +interlinear and marginal corrections and additions, in the same +handwriting as MS. VII. + +VI. (Nos. 1516 to 1519). Four quarto vols., red morocco, Bethune arms. +The first prologue is deficient, as is also the last leaf of tale lxxi. + +VII. (No. 1520). A folio vol., calf and red morocco, stamped with +fleurs-de-lys and the monogram of Louis XVIII. This MS. on stout ruled +paper, in a beautiful italic handwriting of the end of the sixteenth +century, is complete. Unfortunately Queen Margaret's phraseology has +been considerably modified, though, on the other hand, the copyist has +inserted a large number of different readings, as marginal notes, which +render his work of great value. It is frequently quoted in the present +translation. + +VIII. (No. 1523). A folio vol., calf, from the De La Marre library. The +first two leaves are deficient, and the text ends with the fifth tale of +Day IV. + +IX. (No. 1522). A small folio, bound in parchment, from the De La Marre +library. Only the tales of the first four days are complete, and on +folio 259 begins a long poem called Les Prisons, the work probably of +William Filandrier, whom Queen Margaret protected. On the first folio of +the volume is the inscription, in sixteenth-century handwriting: _Pour +ma sour Marie Philander_. The poem _Les Prisons_ is quoted on pp. +xxxviii.-ix. vol. i. of the present work. It concludes with an epitaph +on Margaret, dated 1549. + +X. (No. 1524). A folio vol. from Colbert's library, bound in red and +yellow morocco, on which is painted, on a blue ground, a vine laden with +grapes twining round the trunk of a tree. On either side and in gold +letters is the device, _Sin e doppo la morte_ (until and after death). +Following the title-page, on which the work is called "The Decameron of +the most high and most illustrious Princess, Madame Margaret of France," +is a curious preface signed "Adrian de Thou," and dated "Paris, August +8, 1553." This Adrian de Thou, Lord of Hierville and canon of Notre Dame +de Paris, counsellor and clerk of the Paris Parliament, was the fourth +son of Augustine de Thou and uncle to James Augustus de Thou, the +historian. He died in October 1570. His MS. of the _Heptameron_, a +most beautiful specimen of caligraphy, contains a long table of various +readings and obscure passages; this was consulted in preparing the text +for the present translation. The titles to the tales have also been +borrowed from this MS.; they were composed by De Thou himself, and +figure in no other MS. copy. + +XI. (No. 1525). A small folio, calf, from Colbert's library, very +incomplete and badly written, but containing the _Miroir de Jesu Crist +crucifie_, the last poem Queen Margaret composed (see _ante_, vol. i. p. +lxxxvi.). + +XII. (No. 2155). A small quarto, red morocco, from the library of +Mazarin, whose escutcheon has been cut off. The text, which is +complete and correct, excepting that a portion of the prologue has been +accidentally transposed, is followed by an epitaph on the Queen. The +handwriting throughout is that of the end of the sixteenth century. + + +The other MSS. of the _Heptameron_ are the following:-- + +XIII. (Orleans town library, No. 352). A folio vol. of 440 pp. It is +doubtful whether this MS. is of the sixteenth or seventeenth century. +It bears the title _L'Heptameron des Nouvelles, &c_. There are numerous +deficiencies in the text. + +XIV. (Vatican library, No. 929; from the library of Queen Christina of +Sweden). A folio vol., calf, 95 leaves, handwriting of the end of the +sixteenth century. This only contains fifteen of the stories. + +XV. (present possessor unknown). A folio vol., red morocco; text (ending +with tale lxix. ) in sixteenth-century handwriting, with illuminated +initial letters to each tale. _Catalogue des livres de feue Mme. la +Comtesse de Verrue_, Paris, G. Martin, 1737. + +XVI. (possessor unknown). MS. supposed to be the original, a large +folio, handwriting of the period, antique binding, containing the +seventy-two tales. _Catalogue des livres, &c., du cabinet de M. Filheul, +&c._, Paris, Chardin, 1779, pp. xxi. and 280. + +XVII. (possessor unknown). A folio vol., blue morocco, gilt. No. 1493 +in the catalogue of the _Bibliotheque de Simon Bernard, chez Barrois_, +Paris, 1734; and No. 213 in a _Catalogue de manuscrits interessants qui +seront vendus... en la maison de M. Gueret, notaire_, Paris, Debure fils +jeune, 1776. + +XVIII. (possessor unknown). A folio vol., blue morocco, gilt, stamped +with the arms of France, from the Randon de Boisset library; the +seventy-two tales complete, a very fine copy. _Catalogue des livres de +la bibliotheqzie de l'Abbe Rive_, Marseilles, 1793. (This MS. should not +be confounded with No. xvii. See L. J. Hubaud's _Dissertation sur les +Contes de la Reine de Navarre_, Marseilles, 1850.) + + +The following are the editions of Queen Margaret's tales issued from the +press from the sixteenth century to the present time. The list has been +prepared with great care, and we believe it to be as complete a one as +can be furnished; it includes several editions not mentioned in Brunet's +Manual:-- + +I. _Histoires des Amans Fortunez dediees a tres illustre princesse, Mme. +Marguerite de Bourbon, etc., par Pierre Boaistuau, dit Launoy_, Paris, +1558, 40. The authorisation to print and publish was accorded to Vincent +Sertenas, and the work was issued by three different booksellers; some +copies bearing the name of Gilles Robinot, others that of Jean Cavyller, +and others that of Gilles Gilles. + +This, the first edition of the Queen's work, contains only sixty-seven +of the tales, which are not divided into days or printed in their proper +sequence; the prologues, moreover, are deficient, and all the +bold passages on religious and philosophical questions, &c, in the +conversational matter following the stories, are suppressed. + +II. _L'Heptameron des Nouvelles de tris illustre et tres excellente +Princesse Marguerite de Valois, Royne de Navarre, &c., dedie a tres +illustre et tres vertueuse Princesse Jeanne, Royne de Navarre, par +Claude Gruget, parisien_, Paris, Vincent Certena, or Jean Caveillier, +1559. + +This contains all the Queen's tales excepting Nos. xi., xliv., and +xlvi., which Gruget replaced by others, probably written by himself. The +other stories are placed in their proper order, but none of the names +and passages suppressed by Boaistuau are restored. The phraseology of +the MSS., moreover, is still further modified and polished. + +The text adopted by Boaistuau and Gruget was followed, with a few +additional modifications, in all the editions issued during the later +years of the sixteenth century. Most of these are badly printed and +contain numerous typographical errors:-- + +III. _L'Heptameron des Nouvelles, &c_. Reprint of Gruget's edition, +sold by Vincent Sertenas, Gilles Robinot & Gilles Gille, and printed by +Benoist Prevost, Paris, 1560. + +IV. _L'Heptameron des Nouvelles, &c_., 1560, 16mo. (No bookseller's or +printer's name appears in this edition. ) + +V. _L'Heptameron, &c_. (Gruget). Guill. Rouille, Lyons, 1561, small +12mo; Gilles Gilles, Paris, 1561, 16mo. + +VI. The same. Norment & Bruneau, and Gilles Gilles, Paris, 1567, 16mo. + +VII. The same. Louys Cloquemin, Lyons, 1572, 16mo (reprinted in 1578 and +1581). + +VIII. The same. Michel de Roigny, Paris, 1574, 16mo (round letters). + +IX. The same. Gab. Buon, Paris, 1581, 16mo. + +X. The same. Abel L'Angelier, Paris, 1581, 18mo. + +XI. The same. Jean Osmont, Rouen, 1598, 578 pp., sin. 12mo (good type). + +XII. The same. Romain Beauvais, Rouen, 1598, 589 pp. 12mo. + + +In the seventeenth century the _Heptameron_ was frequently reprinted, +Gruget's text, with a few changes, being still followed until 1698, when +it occurred to some obscure literary man to put the tales into so-called +_beau langage_. At the same time the title of _Heptameron_, devised by +Gruget, was discarded (see post, No. XVI.). + +XIII. _L'Heptameron_, &c., printed by Ch. Chappellein, Paris, 1607, +18mo. + +XIV. The same. _Sur Pimprime a Paris_, J. Bessin (Holland), 1615, sm. +l2mo (reprinted in 1698, 2. vols. 12mo). + +XV. The same. David du Petit-Val, Rouen, 1625, 12mo. + +XVI. _Contes et Nouvelles de Marguerite de Valois, Reine de Navarre, mis +en beau langage_. Gallet, Amsterdam, 1698, 2 vols, sm. 8vo. This edition +is valued not for its _beau langage_, but for the copperplate engravings +illustrating it. These are coarsely executed, and are attributed to +Roman de Hooge, but do not bear his name. A reprint of the edition +appeared at Amsterdam in 1700. + +XVII. The same. Gallet, Amsterdam, 1708, 2 vols. sm. 8vo. Virtually a +reprint, but with several of the Roman de Hooge plates deficient, and +replaced by others signed Harrewyn. + +XVIII. The same. La Haye (Chartres), 1733, 2 vols. sm. 12mo. + +XIX. The same. Londres, 1744, 2 vols. 12mo. + +XX. Heptameron Francais, ou les Nouvelles de Marguerite, Reine de +Navarre; chez la Nouvelle Societe Typographique, Berne, 1780-1, 3 vols. +8vo. On some copies the title is simply, Nouvelles de Marguerite, +etc., Berne, 1781; on others Beat Louis Walthard is designated as the +publisher. + +For this edition were executed the copperplate engravings, designed by +Freudenberg and Dunker, which illustrate the present translation. It was +at first intended to issue the work in parts, but after parts i. and ii. +had been published (at 4 livres each) the project was abandoned. A few +copies of these two parts are in existence; they bear the date 1778. +Freudenberg began his designs in the previous year, and finished them in +1780. + +This edition is greatly prized for its illustrations; the text, however, +largely modified by Jean Rodolphe de Sinner, is without value. The work +was reissued at Paris in 1784 (8 vols, in 8vo, some copies 18mo), at +Berne in 1792, and again in Paris in 1807 (8 vols. 18mo). + + +The following new editions of the _Heptameron_ have appeared during the +present century:-- + +XXI. _Contes et Nouvelles de Marguerite, &c_. Dauthereau, Paris, 1828, 5 +vols. 32mo. (Collection des romans francais et etrangers.) + +XXII. _L'Heptameron, ou Histoire des Amants fortunes, &c, ancien texte +publie par C. Gruget.., revu, corrige et publie avec des notes, &c., +par le bibliophile Jacob_. Gosselin (Bibliotheque d'Elite), Paris, 1841, +12mo. In this edition the Bibliophile Jacob (M. P. Lacroix) but +slightly modified Gruget's text, and his annotation was comparatively +insignificant. His work was reproduced in a volume of the _Pantheon +Litteraire: Les vieux Conteurs francais_, Paris, 1841, 1. 8vo. (double +cols.). + +XXIII. _Heptameron des Nouvelles de... Margtierile d'Angouleme... +publiee sur les manuscrits par la Societe des Bibliophiles Francais_ (Le +Roux de Lincy, editor), Paris, 1853-4, 3 vols. sm. 18mo. + +In this edition the real text of the tales was printed for the first +time, M. de Lincy having carefully examined the best MSS. for this +purpose. The present English translation is based upon his work. Copies +of the "Bibliophiles Francais" edition, which contains a portrait of the +Queen, a facsimile of a miniature, and an engraving showing her arms and +device, cannot be purchased, when in fair condition, for less than L6 in +Paris. + +XXIV. _L'Heptameron des Nouvelles, etc.... avec des notes et une +notice par P. L. Jacob, Bibliophile_ (Paul Lacroix). Adolphe Delahays, +_Bibliotheque Gauloise_, Paris, 1858, 18mo. + +In this edition M. Lacroix, following M. de Lincy's example, went to the +MSS. for his text, which he annotated with care and erudition. All his +notes of any importance are reproduced in the present translation. The +edition of 1858 was reprinted in 1875. + +XXV. _L'Heptameron, &c_. Gamier freres, Paris, n.d., 1 vol. 18mo. +This was long the "popular" edition in France. The text, which is +considerably modernised, is of no value. + +XXVI. _Les sept Journees de la Reine de Navarre, suivies de la +huitieme_. Paris, Librairie des Bibliophiles (Jouaust), 1872, 4 vols. +l6mo. + +In this edition Gruget's text is followed; the notes, &c, are by M. +Lacroix. The work is prized for its illustrations (a portrait and eight +etchings) by Leopold Flameng. It was originally issued in eight parts. +The value of the copies varies according to the paper on which they are +printed. Those on India or Whatman paper, with a duplicate set of the +engravings, command high prices. The text has been reissued by the same +firm in two cr. 8vo vols, under the title of _L'Heptameron des contes, +etc_. + +XXVII. _L'Heptameron des Nouvelles, &c_, preface, notes, &c, by Benjamin +Pifteau, in the _Nouvelle Collection Jannet_, Alphonse Lemerre, Paris, +1875, 2 vols. l6mo. + +This, undoubtedly the best of all the cheap editions, has been reprinted +by Marpon & Flammarion, Paris, n.d. The text is from the MSS.; the +notes are mainly abbreviated from those of MM. de Lincy and Lacroix. M. +Pifteau supplies an introduction and glossary. + +XXVIII. _L'Heptameron, &c., publie avec Introduction, Notes et Glossaire +par Felix Frank_. Liseux, Paris, 1879, 3 vols. 12mo. + +This, from the literary point of view, is one of the most important of +modern editions. The text is not taken from the same MS. as was followed +by M. de Lincy. The tales are preceded by a lengthy introduction, in +which the editor discusses Queen Margaret's work and seeks to identify +the supposed narrators of her tales. He has frequently been quoted in +the notes to this translation. + +XXIX. _L'Heptameron, &c, avec notes, variantes et glossaire par F. +Dillaye et notice par A. France_. A. Lemerre, Paris, 1879. + +A handy edition based on the MSS. The notes embody the substance of +M. de Lincy's and M. Lacroix's researches with additional particulars +supplied by M. Dillaye, who has been quoted in the course of the present +work. + +XXX. _L'Heptameron, &c., publie stir les manuscrits avec les notes de +MM. Le Poux de Lincy et Anatole de Montaiglon_. Auguste Eudes, Paris, +1880, 8 vols. 1. 8vo and 4 vols. cr. 8vo. + +The edition in 8 vols, (two copies of which on parchment were issued at +L44 each; and twelve on Japanese paper at L20 each) is illustrated with +the Freudenberg plates; that in 4 vols, contains the text only. The text +is the same as that of No. XXIII.; but with additional notes, prefatory +matter, &c. The copyright attaching to this edition was acquired for +the present work, in which all M. de Montaiglon's important notes are +reproduced. + + +Among the English translations of the _Heptameron_ are the following:-- + +_Heptameron_, or the _History of the Fortunate Lovers_, translated by +R. Codrington, London, 1654, 12mo. (Dedicated to Thomas Stanley, the +translator of Anacreon and editor of AEschylus, and based on Boaistuau's +defective text.) + +The _Heptameron of Margaret, Queen of Navarre, nota first translated +from the original text, by Walter K. Kelly_. Bohn (extra volume), +London, 1855. This has been several times reprinted. The translation +is a very free rendering of M. de Lincy's text; many passages are +deficient. + +The _Heptameron, &c., translated from the original French by Arthur +Machen_. Privately printed (G. Redway), London, 1886, 1 vol. 1. 8vo. A +scholarly translation, not annotated; illustrated with the etchings by +Flameng (see _ante_, edition xxv.). + +_The Fortunate Lovers, twenty-seven novels of the Queen of Navarre, +translated by Arthur Machen, edited with notes and introduction by A. +Mary F. Robinson_. G. Redway, London, 1887, 8vo. Etched frontispiece +by G. P. Jacomb Hood. This only contains such of the tales as the +lady-editor considered unobjectionable. In her introduction she sketches +the life of Queen Margaret and discusses the identity of the supposed +narrators of the tales. Some of the notes are original, but the majority +are based upon the researches of French commentators.--Ed. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. V. +(of V.), by Margaret, Queen Of Navarre + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALES OF THE HEPTAMERON *** + +***** This file should be named 17705.txt or 17705.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17705/ + +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. 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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..497d919 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #17705 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/17705) diff --git a/old/17705-h.htm.2021-01-25 b/old/17705-h.htm.2021-01-25 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4938efe --- /dev/null +++ b/old/17705-h.htm.2021-01-25 @@ -0,0 +1,8042 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Heptameron, Volume V. + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 2em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + pre { font-family: Times; font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. V. (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. V. (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 #17705] +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 + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="cover (92K)" src="images/cover.jpg" width="100%" /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="spines (63K)" src="images/spines.jpg" width="100%" /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE TALES OF<br /> THE HEPTAMERON<br /> <br /> OF<br /> <br /> Margaret, Queen + of Navarre + </h1> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + <i>Newly Translated into English from the Authentic Text</i> <br /> <br /> + OF M. LE ROUX DE LINCY WITH <br /> <br /> AN ESSAY UPON THE HEPTAMERON <br /> + BY <br /> GEORGE SAINTSBURY, M.A. <br /> <br /> Also the Original + Seventy-three Full Page Engravings <br /> Designed by S. FREUDENBERG <br /> + <br /> And One Hundred and Fifty Head and Tail Pieces <br /> By DUNKER<br /> + <br /> <i>IN FIVE VOLUMES</i> + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + VOLUME THE FIFTH + </h2> + <h4> + LONDON: PRINTED FOR THE SOCIETY OF ENGLISH BIBLIOPHILISTS <br /> MDCCCXCIV + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + <tbody> + <tr> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17701/17701-h/17701-h.htm">Volume + I.</a> + </td> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17702/17702-h/17702-h.htm">Volume + II.</a> + </td> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17703/17703-h/17703-h.htm">Volume + III.</a> + </td> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17704/17704-h/17704-h.htm">Volume + IV.</a> + </td> + </tr> + </tbody> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="100%" alt="Frontispiece " /> + </div> + <h4> + [Margaret, Queen of Navarre, from a crayon drawing by Clouet, preserved at + the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="100%" alt="Titlepage " /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> <b>SIXTH DAY</b>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PROL6"> PROLOGUE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> <i>TALE LI</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> <i>TALE LII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> <i>TALE LIII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> <i>TALE LIV</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> <i>TALE LV</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> <i>TALE LVI</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> <i>TALE LVII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> <i>TALE LVIII.</i> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> <i>TALE LIX</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> <i>TALE LX</i>. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> <b>SEVENTH DAY</b>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PROL7"> PROLOGUE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> <i>TALE LXI</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> <i>TALE LXII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> <i>TALE LXIII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> <i>TALE LXIV</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> <i>TALE LXV</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> <i>TALE LXVI</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> <i>TALE LXVII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> <i>TALE LXVIII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> <i>TALE LXIX</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> <i>TALE LXX</i>. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> <b>EIGHTH DAY.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PROL8"> PROLOGUE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> <i>TALE LXXI</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> <i>TALE LXXII</i>. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_APPE"> APPENDIX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> THE SUPPOSED NARRATORS OF THE <i>HEPTAMERON</i> + TALES. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_BIBL"> BIBLIOGRAPHY. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + List of Illustrations + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0001"> Frontispiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0002"> Titlepage </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0003"> 005a.jpg the Duke of Urbino Sending The + Maiden to Prison for Carrying Messages </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0004"> 005.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0005"> 014.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0006"> 015a.jpg the Gentleman and his Friend Annoyed + by The Smell of Sugar </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0007"> 015.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0008"> 022.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0009"> 023a.jpg the Lord Des Cheriots Flying from + The Prince’s Servant </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0010"> 023.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0011"> 036.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0012"> 037a.jpg the Lady Watching The Shadow Faces + Kissing </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0013"> 037.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0014"> 042.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0015"> 043a.jpg the Servant Selling The Horse With + The Cat </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0016"> 043.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0017"> 049.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0018"> 051a.jpg the Grey Friar Introducing his + Comrade to The Lady and Her Daughter </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0019"> 051.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0020"> 061.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0021"> 063a.jpg the English Lord Seizing The Lady’s + Glove </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0022"> 063.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0023"> 070.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0024"> 071a. The Gentleman Mocked by The Ladies when + Returning from The False Tryst </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0025"> 071.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0026"> 078.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0027"> 079a. The Lady Discovering Her Husband With + The Waiting-woman </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0028"> 079.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0029"> 090.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0030"> 091a. The Chanter of Blois Delivering his + Mistress from The Grave </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0031"> 091.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0032"> 099.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0033"> 105a. The Lady Returning to Her Lover, The + Canon of Autun </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0034"> 105.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0035"> 117.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0036"> 119a. The Gentleman’s Spur Catching in The + Sheet </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0037"> 119.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0038"> 124.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0039"> 125a. The King Asking The Young Lord to Join + his Banquet </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0040"> 125.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0041"> 132.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0042"> 133a. The Lady Swooning in The Arms of The + Gentleman Of Valencia Who Had Become a Monk </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0043"> 133.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0044"> 141.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0045"> 143a. The Old Woman Startled by The Waking of + The Soldier </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0046"> 143.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0047"> 147.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0048"> 149a. The Old Serving-woman Explaining Her + Mistake To The Duke and Duchess of Vendôme </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0049"> 149.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0050"> 154.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0051"> 155a. The Wife Reading to Her Husband on The + Desert Island </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0052"> 155.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0053"> 161.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0054"> 163a. The Apothecary’s Wife Giving The Dose + of Cantharides To Her Husband </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0055"> 163.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0056"> 168.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0057"> 169a. The Wife Discovering Her Husband in The + Hood Of Their Serving-maid </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0058"> 169.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0059"> 174.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0060"> 175a. The Gentleman Killing Himself on The + Death of his Mistress </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0061"> 175.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0062"> 213.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0063"> 219a. The Saddler’s Wife Cured by The Sight + of Her Husband Caressing the Serving-maid </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0064"> 219.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0065"> 224.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0066"> 225a. The Monk Conversing With The Nun While + Shrouding A Dead Body </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0067"> 225.jpg Page Image </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-0068"> 232.jpg Tailpiece </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_TOC" id="link2H_TOC"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DETAILED CONTENTS OF VOLUME V. + </h2> + <p> + <b>SIXTH DAY.</b> + </p> + <p> + Prologue + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008">Tale LI.</a> Cruelty of the Duke of Urbino, who, + contrary to the promise he had given to the Duchess, hanged a poor lady + that had consented to convey letters to his son’s sweetheart, the sister + of the Abbot of Farse. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009">Tale LII.</a> Merry trick played by the varlet of + an apothecary at Alençon on the Lord de la Tirelière and the lawyer + Anthony Bacheré, who, thinking to breakfast at his expense, find that they + have stolen from him something very different to a loaf of sugar. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010">Tale LIII.</a> Story of the Lady of Neufchâtel, a + widow at the Court of Francis I., who, through not admitting that she has + plighted her troth to the Lord des Cheriots, plays him an evil trick + through the means of the Prince of Belhoste. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011">Tale LIV.</a> Merry adventure of a serving-woman + and a gentleman named Thogas, whereof his wife has no suspicion. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012">Tale LV.</a> The widow of a merchant of + Saragossa, not wishing to lose the value of a horse, the price of which + her husband had ordered to be given to the poor, devises the plan of + selling the horse for one ducat only, adding, however, to the bargain a + cat at ninety-nine. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013">Tale LVI.</a> Notable deception practised by an + old Grey Friar of Padua, who, being charged by a widow to find a husband + for her daughter, did, for the sake of getting the dowry, cause her to + marry a young Grey Friar, his comrade, whose condition, however, was + before long discovered. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014">Tale LVII.</a> Singular behaviour of an English + lord, who is content merely to keep and wear upon his doublet the glove of + a lady whom he loves. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015">Tale LVIII.</a> A lady at the Court of Francis + I., wishing to prove that she has no commerce with a certain gentleman who + loves her, gives him a pretended tryst and causes him to pass for a thief. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016">Tale LIX.</a> Story of the same lady, who, + learning that her husband is in love with her waiting-woman, contrives to + surprise him and impose her own terms upon him. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017">Tale LX.</a> A man of Paris, thinking his wife to + be well and duly deceased, marries again, but at the end of fifteen years + is forced to take his first wife back, although she has been living + meantime with one of the chanters of Louis XII. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>SEVENTH DAY.</b> + </p> + <p> + Prologue + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020">Tale LXI.</a> Great kindness of a husband, who + consents to take back his wife twice over, spite of her wanton love for a + Canon of Autun. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021">Tale LXII.</a> How a lady, while telling a story + as of another, let her tongue trip in such a way as to show that what she + related had happened to herself. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022">Tale LXIII.</a> How the honourable behaviour of a + young lord, who feigns sickness in order to be faithful to his wife, + spoils a party in which he was to have made one with the King, and in this + way saves the honour of three maidens of Paris. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023">Tale LXIV.</a> Story of a gentleman of Valencia + in Spain, whom a lady drove to such despair that he became a monk, and + whom afterwards she strove in vain to win back to herself. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024">Tale LXV.</a> Merry mistake of a worthy woman, + who in the church of St. John of Lyons mistakes a sleeping soldier for one + of the statues on a tomb, and sets a lighted candle on his forehead. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025">Tale LXVI.</a> How an old serving-woman, thinking + to surprise a Prothonotary with a lady, finds herself insulting Anthony de + Bourbon and his wife Jane d’Albret. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026">Tale LXVII.</a> How the Sire de Robertval, + granting a traitor his life at the prayers of the man’s wife, set them + both down on a desert island, and how, after the husband’s death, the wife + was rescued and brought back to La Rochelle. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027">Tale LXVIII.</a> The wife of an apothecary at + Pau, hearing her husband give some powder of cantharides to a woman who + was godmother with himself, secretly administered to him such a dose of + the same drug that he nearly died. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028">Tale LXIX.</a> How the wife of one of the King’s + Equerries surprised her husband muffled in the hood of their servant-maid, + and bolting meal in her stead. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029">Tale LXX.</a> Of the love of a Duchess of + Burgundy for a gentleman who rejects her advances, for which reason she + accuses him to the Duke her husband, and the latter does not believe his + oaths till assured by him that he loves the Lady du Vergier. Then the + Duchess, having drawn knowledge of this amour from her husband, addresses + to the Lady du Vergier in public, an allusion that causes the death of + both lovers; and the Duke, in despair at his own lack of discretion, stabs + the Duchess himself. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>EIGHTH DAY.</b> + </p> + <p> + Prologue + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032">Tale LXXI.</a> The wife of a saddler of Amboise + is saved on her deathbed through a fit of anger at seeing her husband + fondle a servant-maid. + </p> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033">Tale LXXII.</a> Kindness of the Duchess of + Alençon to a poor nun whom she meets at Lyons, on her way to Rome, there + to confess to the Pope how a monk had wronged her, and to obtain his + Holiness’s pardon. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SIXTH DAY. + </h2> + <p> + <i>On the Sixth Day are related the deceits practised<br /> by Man on + Woman, Woman on Man, or<br /> Woman on Woman, through<br /> greed, revenge, + and<br /> wickedness</i>. <a name="link2H_PROL6" id="link2H_PROL6"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PROLOGUE. + </h2> + <p> + In the morning the Lady Oisille went earlier than was her wont to make + ready for her reading in the hall, but the company being advised of this, + and eager to hearken to her excellent instruction, used such despatch in + dressing themselves that she had not long to wait. Perceiving their + fervour, she set about reading them the Epistle of St. John the + Evangelist, which is full of naught but love, in the same wise as, on the + foregoing days, she had expounded to them St. Paul’s Epistle to the + Romans. The company found this fare so much to their taste, that, although + they tarried a half-hour longer than on the other days, it seemed to them + as if they had not remained there a quarter of an hour altogether. From + thence they proceeded to the contemplation of the mass, when one and all + commended themselves to the Holy Ghost in order that they might that day + be enabled to satisfy their merry audience; and, after they had broken + their fast and taken a little rest, they set out to resume their + accustomed diversion. + </p> + <p> + And the Lady Oisille asking who should begin the day, Longarine made + answer— + </p> + <p> + “I give my vote to Madame Oisille; she has this day read to us so + beauteous a lesson, that she can but tell us some story apt to crown the + glory which she won this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” said Oisille, “that I cannot tell you aught so profitable + this afternoon as I did in the morning. But at least the purport of my + story shall not depart from the teaching of Holy Scripture, where it is + written, ‘Trust not in princes, nor in the sons of men, in whom is not our + salvation.’ (1) And that this truth may not be forgotten by you for lack + of an example, I will tell you a tale which is quite true, and the memory + of which is so fresh that the eyes of those that saw the piteous sight are + scarcely yet dried.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/005a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="005a.jpg the Duke of Urbino Sending The Maiden to Prison for Carrying Messages Between his Son and His Sweetheart " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Duke of Urbino sending the Maiden to Prison for carrying<br /> + Messages between his Son and his Sweetheart] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/005.jpg" width="100%" alt="005.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LI</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>Because he would not have his son make a poor marriage, the + Duke of Urbino, contrary to the promise given to his wife, + hanged a young maiden by whom his son was wont to inform his + sweetheart of the love he bore her</i>. +</pre> + <p> + The Duke of Urbino, called the Prefect, (1) the same that married the + sister of the first Duke of Mantua, had a son of between eighteen and + twenty years of age, who was in love with a girl of an excellent and + honourable house, sister to the Abbot of Farse. (2) And since, according + to the custom of the country, he was not free to converse with her as he + wished, he obtained the aid of a gentleman in his service, who was in love + with a very beautiful and virtuous young damsel in the service of his + mother. By means of this damsel he informed his sweetheart of the deep + affection that he bore her; and the poor girl, thinking no harm, took + pleasure in doing him service, believing his purpose to be so good and + virtuous that she might honourably be the carrier of his intentions. But + the Duke, who had more regard for the profit of his house than for any + virtuous affection, was in such great fear lest these dealings should lead + his son (3) into marriage, that he caused a strict watch to be kept; + whereupon he was informed that the poor damsel had been concerned in + carrying some letters from his son to the lady he loved. On hearing this + he was in great wrath, and resolved to take the matter in hand. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 This is Francesco Maria I., della Rovere, nephew to Pope + Julius II., by whom he was created Prefect of Rome. Brought + up at the French Court, he became one of the great captains + of the period, especially distinguishing himself in the + command of the Venetian forces during the earlier part of + his career. He married Leonora Ypolita Gonzaga, daughter of + Francesco II., fourth Marquis of Mantua, respecting whom see + <i>ante</i>, vol. iii., notes to Tale XIX. It was Leonora rather + than her husband who imparted lustre to the Court of Urbino + at this period by encouraging arts and letters. Among those + who flourished there were Raffaelle and Baldassare + Castiglione. Francesco Maria, born in March 1491, died in + 1538 from the effects—so it is asserted by several + contemporary writers—of a poisonous lotion which a Mantuan + barber had dropped into his ear. His wife, who bore him two + sons (see post, note 3), died at the age of 72, in 1570.—L. + and Ed. + + 2 The French words are <i>Abbé de Farse</i>. Farse would appear + to be a locality, as abbots were then usually designated by + the names of their monasteries; still it may be intended for + the Abbot’s surname, and some commentators, adopting this + view, have suggested that the proper reading would be + Farnese.—Ed. + + 3 The Duke’s two sons were Federigo, born in March 1511, + and Guidobaldo, born in April 1514. The former according to + all authorities died when “young,” and probably long before + reaching man’s estate. Dennistoun, in his searching <i>Memoirs + of the Dukes of Urbino</i> (London, 1851), clearly shows that + for many years prior to Francesco Maria’s death his second + son Guidobaldo was the only child remaining to him. Already + in 1534, when but twenty years old, Guidobaldo was regarded + as his father’s sole heir and successor. In that year + Francesco Maria forced the young man to marry Giulia Varana, + a child of eleven, in order that he might lay claim to her + father’s state of Camerino and annex it to the duchy. There + is no record of Guidobaldo having ever engaged in any such + intrigue as related by Queen Margaret in the above tale, + still it must be to him that she refers, everything pointing + to the conclusion that his brother Federigo died in + childhood. Guidobaldo became Duke of Urbino on his father’s + death.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + He could not, however, conceal his anger so well that the maiden was not + advised of it, and knowing his wickedness, which was in her eyes as great + as his conscience was small, she felt a wondrous dread. Going therefore to + the Duchess, she craved leave to retire somewhere out of the Duke’s sight + until his passion should be past; but her mistress replied that, before + giving her leave to do so, she would try to find out her husband’s will in + the matter. + </p> + <p> + Very soon, however, the Duchess heard the Duke’s evil words concerning the + affair, and, knowing his temper, she not only gave the maiden leave, but + advised her to retire into a convent until the storm was over. This she + did as secretly as she could, yet not so stealthily but that the Duke was + advised of it. Thereupon, with pretended cheerfulness of countenance, he + asked his wife where the maiden was, and she, believing him to be well + aware of the truth, confessed it to him. He feigned to be vexed thereat, + saying that the girl had no need to behave in that fashion, and that for + his part he desired her no harm. And he requested his wife to cause her to + come back again, since it was by no means well to have such matters noised + abroad. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess replied that, if the poor girl was so unfortunate as to have + lost his favour, it were better for a time that she should not come into + his presence; however, he would not hearken to her reasonings, but + commanded her to bid the maiden return. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess failed not to make the Duke’s will known to the maiden; but + the latter, who could not but feel afraid, entreated her mistress that she + might not be compelled to run this risk, saying that she knew the Duke was + not so ready to forgive her as he feigned to be. Nevertheless, the Duchess + assured her that she should take no hurt, and pledged her own life and + honour for her safety. + </p> + <p> + The girl, who well knew that her mistress loved her, and would not lightly + deceive her, trusted in her promise, believing that the Duke would never + break a pledge when his wife’s honour was its warranty. And accordingly + she returned to the Duchess. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the Duke knew this, he failed not to repair to his wife’s + apartment. There, as soon as he saw the maiden, he said to his wife, “So + such-a-one has returned,” and turning to his gentlemen, he commanded them + to arrest her and lead her to prison. + </p> + <p> + At this the poor Duchess, who by the pledging of her word had drawn the + maiden from her refuge, was in such despair that, falling upon her knees + before her husband, she prayed that for love of herself and of his house + he would not do so foul a deed, seeing that it was in obedience to himself + that she had drawn the maiden from her place of safety. + </p> + <p> + But no prayer that she could utter availed to soften his hard heart, or to + overcome his stern resolve to be avenged. Without making any reply, he + withdrew as speedily as possible, and, foregoing all manner of trial, and + forgetting God and the honour of his house, he cruelly caused the hapless + maiden to be hanged. + </p> + <p> + I cannot undertake to recount to you the grief of the Duchess; it was such + as beseemed a lady of honour and a tender heart on beholding one, whom she + would fain have saved, perish through trust in her own plighted faith. + Still less is it possible to describe the deep affliction of the unhappy + gentleman, the maiden’s lover, who failed not to do all that in him lay to + save his sweetheart’s life, offering to give his own for hers; but no + feeling of pity moved the heart of this Duke, whose only happiness was + that of avenging himself on those whom he hated. (4) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 4 That Francesco-Maria was a man of a hasty, violent + temperament is certain. Much that Guicciardini relates of + him was doubtless penned in a spirit of resentment, for + during the time the historian lived at Urbino the Duke + repeatedly struck him, and on one occasion felled him to the + ground, with the sneering remark, “Your business is to + confer with pedants.” On the other hand, however, there is + independent documentary evidence in existence—notably + among the Urbino MSS. in the Vatican library—which shows + that Francesco-Maria in no wise recoiled from shedding + blood. He was yet in his teens when it was reported to him + that his sister—the widow of Venanzio of Camerino, killed + by Caesar Borgia—had secretly married a certain Giovanni + Andrea of Verona and borne him a son. Watching his + opportunity, Francesco-Maria set upon the unfortunate Andrea + one day in the ducal chamber and then and there killed him, + though not without resistance, for Andrea only succumbed + after receiving <i>four-and-twenty</i> stabs with his murderer’s + poignard (Urbino MSS. Vat. No. 904). A few years later, in + 1511, Francesco-Maria assassinated the Papal Legate + Alidosio, Cardinal Archbishop of Pavia, whom he encountered + in the environs of Bologna riding his mule and followed by a + hundred light horse. Nevertheless Urbino, with only a small + retinue, galloped up to him, plunged a dagger into his + stomach and fled before the soldiery could intervene. From + these examples it will be seen that, although history has + preserved no record of the affair related by Queen Margaret, + her narrative may well be a true one.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + Thus, in spite of every law of honour, was the innocent maiden put to + death by this cruel Duke, to the exceeding sorrow of all that knew her. + </p> + <p> + “See, ladies, what are the effects of wickedness when this is combined + with power.” + </p> + <p> + “I had indeed heard,” said Longarine, “that the Italians were prone to + three especial vices; but I should not have thought that vengeance and + cruelty would have gone so far as to deal a cruel death for so slight a + cause.” + </p> + <p> + “Longarine,” said Saffredent, laughing, “you have told us one of the three + vices, but we must also know the other two.” + </p> + <p> + “If you did not know them,” she replied, “I would inform you, but I am + sure that you know them all.” + </p> + <p> + “From your words,” said Saffredent, “it seems that you deem me very + vicious.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so,” said Longarine, “but you so well know the ugliness of vice that, + better than any other, you are able to avoid it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not be amazed,” said Simontault, “at this act of cruelty. Those who + have passed through Italy have seen such incredible instances, that this + one is in comparison but a trifling peccadillo.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, truly,” said Geburon. “When Rivolta was taken by the French, (5) + there was an Italian captain who was esteemed a knightly comrade, but on + seeing the dead body of a man who was only his enemy in that being a + Guelph he was opposed to the Ghibellines, he tore out his heart, broiled + it on the coals and devoured it. And when some asked him how he liked it, + he replied that he had never eaten so savoury or dainty a morsel. Not + content with this fine deed, he killed the dead man’s wife, and tearing + out the fruit of her womb, dashed it against a wall. Then he filled the + bodies both of husband and wife with oats and made his horses eat from + them. Think you that such a man as that would not surely have put to death + a girl whom he suspected of offending him?” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 5 Rivolta or Rivoli was captured by the French under Louis + XII. in 1509. An instance of savagery identical in character + with that mentioned by “Geburon” had already occurred at the + time of Charles VIII.‘s expedition to Naples, when the + culprit, a young Italian of good birth, was seized and + publicly executed.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “It must be acknowledged,” said Ennasuite, “that this Duke of Urbino was + more afraid that his son might make a poor marriage than desirous of + giving him a wife to his liking.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you can have no doubt,” replied Simon-tault, “that it is the + Italian nature to love unnaturally that which has been created only for + nature’s service.” + </p> + <p> + “Worse than that,” said Hircan, “they make a god of things that are + contrary to nature.” + </p> + <p> + “And there,” said Longarine, “you have another one of the sins that I + meant; for we know that to love money, excepting so far as it be + necessary, is idolatry.” + </p> + <p> + Parlamente then said that St. Paul had not forgotten the vices of the + Italians, and of all those who believe that they exceed and surpass others + in honour, prudence and human reason, and who trust so strongly to this + last as to withhold from God the glory that is His due. Wherefore the + Almighty, jealous of His honour, renders’ those who believe themselves + possessed of more understanding than other men, more insensate even than + wild the beasts, causing them to show by their unnatural deeds that their + sense is reprobate. + </p> + <p> + Longarine here interrupted Parlamente to say that this was indeed the + third sin to which the Italians were prone. + </p> + <p> + “By my faith,” said Nomerfide, “this discourse is very pleasing to me, + for, since those that possess the best trained and acutest understandings + are punished by being made more witless even than wild beasts, it must + follow that such as are humble, and low, and of little reach, like myself, + are filled with the wisdom of angels.” + </p> + <p> + “I protest to you,” said Oisille, “that I am not far from your opinion, + for none is more ignorant than he who thinks he knows.” + </p> + <p> + “I have never seen a mocker,” said Geburon, “that was not mocked, a + deceiver that was not deceived, or a boaster that was not humbled.” + </p> + <p> + “You remind me,” said Simontault, “of a deceit which, had it been of a + seemly sort, I would willingly have related.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Oisille, “since we are here to utter truth, I give you my + vote that you may tell it to us whatsoever its nature may be.” + </p> + <p> + “Since you give place to me,” said Simontault, “I will tell it you.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/014.jpg" width="100%" alt="014.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/015a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="015a.jpg the Gentleman and his Friend Annoyed by The Smell of That Which They Thought Was Sugar " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Gentleman and his Friend annoyed by The Smell of that <br /> which + they Thought was Sugar] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/015.jpg" width="100%" alt="015.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>An apothecary s man, espying behind him an advocate who was + to plague him, and on whom he desired to be revenged, + dropped from his sleeve a lump of frozen ordure, wrapped in + paper like a sugar-loaf, which a gentleman who was with the + advocate picked up and hid in his bosom, and then went to + breakfast at a tavern, whence he came forth with all the + cost and shame that he had thought to bring upon the poor + varlet</i>. +</pre> + <p> + Near the town of Alençon there lived a gentleman called the Lord of La + Tireliere, who one morning came from his house to the town afoot, both + because the distance was not great and because it was freezing hard. (1) + When he had done his business, he sought out a crony of his, an advocate + named Anthony Bacheré, and, after speaking with him of his affairs, he + told him that he should much like to meet with a good breakfast, but at + somebody else’s expense. While thus discussing, they sat themselves down + in front of an apothecary’s shop, where there was a varlet who listened to + them, and who forthwith resolved to give them their breakfast. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 The phraseology of this story varies considerably in the + different MSS. of the <i>Heptameron</i>. In No. 1520, for + instance, the tale begins as follows: “In the town of + Alençon, in the time of the last Duke Charles, there was an + advocate, a merry companion, fond of breakfasting o’ + mornings. One day, whilst he sat at his door, he saw pass a + gentleman called the Lord of La Tilleriere, who, by reason + of the extreme cold, had come on foot from his house to the + town in order to attend to certain business there, and in + doing so had not forgotten to put on his great robe, lined + with fox-skin. And when he saw the advocate, who was much + such a man as himself, he told him that he had completed his + business, and had nothing further to do, except it were to + find a good breakfast. The advocate made answer that they + could find breakfasts enough and to spare, provided they had + some one to defray the cost, and, taking the other under the + arm, he said to him, ‘Come, gossip, we may perhaps find some + fool who will pay the reckoning for us both.’ Now behind + them was an apothecary’s man, an artful and inventive + fellow, whom this advocate was always plaguing,” &c.—L. +</pre> + <p> + He went out from his shop into a street whither all repaired on needful + occasions, (2) and there found a large lump of ordure standing on end, and + so well frozen that it looked like a small loaf of fine sugar. Forthwith + he wrapped it in handsome white paper, in the manner he was wont to use + for the attraction of customers, and hid it in his sleeve. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 In olden time, as shown in the <i>Mémoires de l’Académie de + Troyes</i>, there were in most French towns streets specially + set aside for the purpose referred to. At Alençon, in Queen + Margaret’s time, there was a street called the Rue des + Fumiers, as appears from a report dated March 8, 1564 + (Archives of the Orne, Series A). Probably it is to this + street that she alludes. (Communicated by M. L. Duval, + archivist of the department of the Orne).—M. +</pre> + <p> + Afterwards he came and passed in front of the gentleman and the advocate, + and, letting the sugar-loaf (3) fall near them, as if by mischance, went + into a house whither he had pretended to be carrying it. + </p> + <p> + The Lord of La Tirelière (4) hastened back with all speed to pick up what + he thought to be a sugar-loaf, and just as he had done so the apothecary’s + man also came back looking and asking for his sugar everywhere. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 M. Duval, archivist of the Orne, states that La + Tirelière, which is situated near St. Germain-du-Corbois, + within three miles of Alençon, is an old <i>gentilhommière</i> or + manor-house, surrounded by a moat. It was originally a + simple <i>vavassonrie</i> held in fief from the Counts and Dukes + of Alençon by the Pantolf and Crouches families, and in the + seventeenth century was merged into the marquisate of + L’Isle.—M. + + 4 Sugar was at this period sold by apothecaries, and was a + rare and costly luxury. There were loaves of various sizes, + but none so large as those of the present time.—M. +</pre> + <p> + The gentleman, thinking that he had cleverly tricked him, then went in + haste to a tavern with his crony, to whom he said— + </p> + <p> + “Our breakfast has been paid for at the cost of that varlet.” + </p> + <p> + When he was come to the tavern he called for good bread, good wine and + good meat, for he thought that he had wherewith to pay. But whilst he was + eating, as he began to grow warm, his sugar-loaf in its turn began to thaw + and melt, and filled the whole room with the smell peculiar to it, + whereupon he, who carried it in his bosom, grew wroth with the + waiting-woman, and said to her— + </p> + <p> + “You are the filthiest folks that ever I knew in this town, for either you + or your children have strewn all this room with filth.” + </p> + <p> + “By St. Peter!” replied the woman, “there is no filth here unless you have + brought it in yourselves.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon they rose, by reason of the great stench that they smelt, and + went up to the fire, where the gentleman drew out of his bosom a + handkerchief all dyed with the melted sugar, and on opening his robe, + lined with fox-skin, found it to be quite spoiled. + </p> + <p> + And all that he was able to say to his crony was this— + </p> + <p> + “The rogue whom we thought to deceive has deceived us instead.” + </p> + <p> + Then they paid their reckoning and went away as vexed as they had been + merry on their arrival, when they fancied they had tricked the + apothecary’s varlet. (5) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 5 In MS. 1520, this tale ends in the following manner:— + “They were no sooner in the street than they perceived the + apothecary’s man going about and making inquiry of every one + whether they had not seen a loaf of sugar wrapped in paper. + They [the advocate and his companion] sought to avoid him, + but he called aloud to the advocate, ‘If you have my loaf of + sugar, sir, I beg that you will give it back to me, for ‘tis + a double sin to rob a poor servant.’ His shouts brought to + the spot many people curious to witness the dispute, and the + true circumstances of the case were so well proven, that the + apothecary’s man was as glad to have been robbed as the + others were vexed at having committed such a nasty theft. + However, they comforted themselves with the hope that they + might some day give him tit for tat.”—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “Often, ladies, do we see the like befall those who delight in using such + cunning. If the gentleman had not sought to eat at another’s expense, he + would not have drunk so vile a beverage at his own. It is true, ladies, + that my story is not a very clean one, but you gave me license to speak + the truth, and I have done so in order to show you that no one is sorry + when a deceiver is deceived.” + </p> + <p> + “It is commonly said,” replied Hircan, “that words have no stink, yet + those for whom they are intended do not easily escape smelling them.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” said Oisille, “that such words do not stink, but there are + others which are spoken of as nasty, and which are of such evil odour that + they disgust the soul even more than the body is disgusted when it smells + such a sugar-loaf as you described in the tale.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you,” said Hircan, “tell me what words you know of so foul as to + sicken both the heart and soul of a virtuous woman.” + </p> + <p> + “It would indeed be seemly,” replied Oisille, “that I should tell you + words which I counsel no woman to utter.” + </p> + <p> + “By that,” said Saffredent, “I quite understand what those terms are. They + are such as women desirous of being held discreet do not commonly employ. + But I would ask all the ladies present why, when they dare not utter them, + they are so ready to laugh at them when they are used in their presence.” + </p> + <p> + Then said Parlamente— + </p> + <p> + “We do not laugh because we hear such pretty expressions, though it is + indeed true that every one is disposed to laugh on seeing anybody stumble + or on hearing any one utter an unfitting word, as often happens. The + tongue will trip and cause one word to be used for another, even by the + discreetest and most excellent speakers. But when you men talk viciously, + not from ignorance, but by reason of your own wickedness, I know of no + virtuous woman who does not feel a loathing for such speakers, and who + would not merely refuse to hearken to them, but even to remain in their + company.” + </p> + <p> + “That is very true,” responded Geburon. “I have frequently seen women make + the sign of the cross on hearing certain words spoken, and cease not in + doing so after these words had been uttered a second time.” + </p> + <p> + “But how many times,” said Simontault, “have they put on their masks (6) + in order to laugh as freely as they pretended to be angry?” + </p> + <p> + “Yet it were better to do this,” said Parlamente, “than to let it be seen + that the talk pleased them.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Dagoucin, “you praise a lady’s hypocrisy no less than her + virtue?” + </p> + <p> + “Virtue would be far better,” said Longarine, “but, when it is lacking, + recourse must be had to hypocrisy, just as we use our slippers (7) to + disguise our littleness. And it is no small matter to be able to conceal + our imperfections.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 8 <i>Tourets-de-nez</i>. <i>See ante</i>, vol. iii. p. 27, note 5.—Ed. + + 7 High-heeled slippers or <i>mules</i> were then worn.—B. J. +</pre> + <p> + “By my word,” said Hircan, “it were better sometimes to show some slight + imperfection than to cover it so closely with the cloak of virtue.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” said Ennasuitc, “that a borrowed garment brings the borrower + as much dishonour when he is constrained to return it as it brought him + honour whilst it was being worn, and there is a lady now living who, by + being too eager to conceal a small error, fell into a greater.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Hircan, “that I know whom you mean; in any case, however, + do not pronounce her name.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho! ho!” said Geburon [to Ennasuite], “I give you my vote on condition + that when you have related the story you will tell us the names. We will + swear never to mention them.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise it,” said Knnasuite, “for there is nothing that may not be told + in all honour.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/022.jpg" width="100%" alt="022.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/023a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="023a.jpg the Lord Des Cheriots Flying from The Prince’s Servant " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Lord des Cheriots flying from the Prince’s Servant] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/023.jpg" width="100%" alt="023.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LIII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>By her dissimulation the Lady of Neufchastel caused the + Prince of Belhoste to put her to such proof that it turned + to her dishonour</i>. +</pre> + <p> + King Francis the First was once at a handsome and pleasant castle, whither + he had gone with a small following, both for the purpose of hunting and in + order to take some repose. With him in his train was a certain Prince of + Belhoste, (1) as worshipful, virtuous, discreet and handsome a Prince as + any at Court. The wife he had married did not belong to a family of high + rank, yet he loved her as dearly and treated her as well as it were + possible for a husband to do, and also trusted in her. And when he was in + love with anybody he never concealed it from her, knowing that she had no + other will than his own. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 The Bibliophile Jacob surmises that this personage may be + one of the Italian grandees at that period in the service of + France, in which case the allusion may be to John + Caraccioli, Prince of Melphes, created a marshal of France + in 1544. Queen Margaret, however, makes no mention of her + Prince being a foreigner. “Belhoste” is of course a + fictitious name invented to replace that which the Prince + really bore, and admits of so many interpretations that its + meaning in the present instance cannot well be determined. + From the circumstance, however, that the Prince’s wife was + of inferior birth to himself, it is not impossible that the + personage referred to may be either Charles de Bourbon, + Prince of La Roche-sur-Yonne and Duke of Beaupréau, or John + VIII., Lord of Créqui, Canaples and Pontdormi, and Prince of + Poix. The former, who married Philippa de Montespedon, widow + of René de Montéjan, and a lady of honour to Catherine de’ + Medici when Dauphiness, took a prominent part in the last + wars of Francis I.‘s reign, and survived till 1565. The + latter, generally known at Court by the name of Canaples, + was a gentleman of the chamber and an especial favourite of + Francis I. Brantôme says of him in his <i>Homines Illustres</i> + that he was “a valiant lord and the strongest man of arms + that in those days existed in all Christendom, for he broke + a lance, no matter its strength, as easily as though it were + a mere switch, and few were able to withstand him.” In 1525 + the Prince of Poix married a Demoiselle d’Acigné or Assigny, + of <i>petite noblesse</i>, who in 1532 became a lady of honour to + Queen Eleanor. She died in 1558, surviving her husband by + three years. See Rouard’s rare <i>Notice dun Recueil de + Crayons à la Bibliothèque Méjanes d’Aix</i>, Paris, 1863.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + Now this Prince conceived a deep affection for a widow lady called Madame + de Neufchastel, (2) who was reputed the most beautiful woman it were + possible to see; and if the Prince of Bel-hoste loved her well, his wife + loved her no less, and would often send and bid her to dinner, for she + deemed her so discreet and honourable, that, instead of being grieved by + her husband’s love for her, she rejoiced to see him address his attentions + to one so full of honour and virtue. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 M. Lacroix thinks that this lady may be Jane de Hochberg, + only daughter of Philip, sovereign Count of Neufchâtel. + According to the custom of the time, she was commonly called + Madame de Neufchâtel, despite her marriage with Louis + d’Orléans, Duke of Longueville. She died in 1543, after a + lengthy widowhood. We consider the accuracy of M. Lacroix’s + surmise to be extremely doubtful, for the names of both the + men figuring in the story are obviously altered so as to + conceal their identity, and it is therefore not likely that + Queen Margaret would designate the lady by her real name, + and thus publish her shame to the world. The Madame de + Neufchâtel she speaks of may really have been a Madame de + Châteauneuf, Châteauvieux or Maisonneuve; or we may again be + in presence of Margaret’s lady of honour, the widowed + Blanche de Chastillon, <i>née</i> de Tournon, to whom frequent + reference has been made.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + This affection lasted for a great while, the Prince of Belhoste caring for + all the lady’s affairs as though they were his own, and his wife doing no + less. By reason, however, of her beauty many great lords and gentlemen + earnestly sought the lady’s favour, some only for love’s sake, others for + sake of the ring, for, besides being beautiful, she was also very rich. + </p> + <p> + Among the rest was a young gentleman, called the Lord des Cheriots, (3) + who wooed her so ardently that he was never absent from her levee and + couchée, and was also with her as much as possible during the day. This + did not please the Prince of Belhoste, who thought that a man of such poor + estate, and so lacking in grace, did not deserve an honourable and + gracious reception, and he often made remonstrances about it to the lady. + She, however, being one of Eve’s daughters, (4) excused herself by saying + that she spoke with every one in general, and that their own affection was + the better concealed, since she never spoke more with one than with + another. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 “Des Cheriots” (occasionally Des Cheriotz in the MS.) may + be a play upon the name of D’Escars, sometimes written Des + Cars. According to La Curne de Ste. Palaye <i>car</i> as well as + <i>char</i> signified chariot. The D’Escars dukedom is modern, + dating from 1815, and in the time of Francis I. the family + was of small estate. Some members of it may well have filled + inferior offices about the court, as in 1536 a Demoiselle + Suzanne d’Escars married Geoffrey de Pompadour, who was both + a prothonotary and cupbearer to Francis I., and lived to + become Governor of the Limousin under Charles IX.—M. and + Ed. + + 4 We take this expression from MS. 1520. Ours says, “a + daughter of the Duke,” which is evidently an error.—L. +</pre> + <p> + Albeit, after some time, this Lord des Cheriots so pressed her that, more + through his importunity than through love, she promised to marry him, + begging him, however, not to urge her to reveal the marriage until her + daughters were wedded. After this the gentleman was wont to go with + untroubled conscience to her chamber at whatsoever hour he chose, and none + but a waiting-woman and a serving-man had knowledge of the matter. + </p> + <p> + When the Prince perceived that the gentleman was growing more and more + familiar in the house of her whom he so dearly loved, he took it in + ill-part, and could not refrain from saying to the lady— + </p> + <p> + “I have always prized your honour like that of my own sister, and you are + aware of the honourable manner in which I have addressed you, and the + happiness that I have in loving a lady as discreet and virtuous as + yourself; but did I think that another who deserves it not could win by + importunity that which I am not willing to crave, contrary to your own + desire, this would be unendurable to me, and in the like degree + dishonouring to you. I tell you this because you are beautiful and young, + and although hitherto of good repute, are now beginning to gain a very + evil fame. Even though he be not your equal in birth or fortune, and have + less influence, knowledge and address, yet it were better to have married + him than to give all men matter for suspicion. I pray you, therefore, tell + me whether you are resolved to love him, for I will not have him as fellow + of mine. I would rather leave you altogether to him, and put away from me + the feelings that I have hitherto borne you.” + </p> + <p> + The poor lady, fearful of losing his affection, thereupon began to weep, + and vowed to him that she would rather die than wed the gentleman of whom + he had spoken, but (she added) he was so importunate that she could not + help his entering her chamber at a time when every one else did so. + </p> + <p> + “Of such times as those,” said the Prince, “I do not speak, for I can go + as well as he, and see all what you are doing. But I have been told that + he goes after you are in bed, and this I look upon as so extraordinary + that, if you should continue in this mode of life without declaring him to + be your husband, you will be disgraced more than any woman that ever + lived.” + </p> + <p> + She swore to him with all the oaths she could utter that the other was + neither her husband nor her lover, but only as importunate a gentleman as + there well could be. + </p> + <p> + “Since he is troublesome to you,” said the Prince, “I promise you that I + will rid you of him.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” asked the lady. “Would you kill him?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said the Prince, “but I will give him to understood that it is + not in such a place as this, not in such a house as the King’s, that + ladies are to be put to shame. And I swear to you by the faith of the + lover that I am, that if, after I have spoken with him, he does not + correct himself, I will correct him in such a manner as to make him a + warning to others.” + </p> + <p> + So saying he went away, and on leaving the room failed not to meet the + Lord des Cheriots on his way in. To him he spoke after the fashion that + you have heard, assuring him that the first time he was found there after + an hour at which gentlemen might reasonably visit the ladies, he would + give him such a fright as he would ever remember. And he added that the + lady was of too noble a house to be trifled with after such a fashion. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman protested that he had never been in the room except in the + same manner as the rest, and, if the Prince should find him there, he gave + him full leave to do his worst. + </p> + <p> + One day afterwards, when the gentleman believed the Prince’s words to have + been forgotten, he went to see his lady in the evening, and remained + sufficiently late. + </p> + <p> + The Prince [that same evening] told his wife that Madame de Neufchastel + had a severe cold, upon hearing which the worthy lady begged that he would + visit her on behalf of them both, and make excuse for herself, since she + could not go by reason of a certain matter that she must needs attend to + in her room. + </p> + <p> + The Prince waited until the King was in bed, and then went to give the + lady good-evening, but as he was going up a stairway he met a serving-man + coming down, who, on being asked how his mistress did, swore that she was + in bed and asleep. + </p> + <p> + The Prince went down the stairway, but, suspecting that the servant had + lied, looked behind and saw him going back again with all speed. He walked + about the courtyard in front of the door to see whether the servant would + return. A quarter of an hour later he perceived him come down again and + look all about to see who was in the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + Forthwith the Prince was convinced that the Lord des Cheriots was in the + lady’s chamber, but through fear of himself durst not come down, and he + therefore again walked about for a long-while. + </p> + <p> + At last, observing that the lady’s room had a casement which was not at + all high up, and which looked upon a little garden, he remembered the + proverb which says, “When the door fails the window avails,” and he + thereupon called a servant of his own, and said to him— + </p> + <p> + “Go into the garden there behind, and, if you see a gentleman come down + from the window, draw your sword as soon as he reaches the ground, clash + it against the wall, and cry out, ‘Slay! slay!’ Be careful, however, that + you do not touch him.” + </p> + <p> + The servant went whither his master had sent him, and the Prince walked + about until three hours after midnight. + </p> + <p> + When the Lord des Cheriots heard that the Prince was still in the yard, he + resolved to descend by the window, and, having first thrown clown his + cloak, he then, by the help of his good friends, leapt into the garden. As + soon as the servant saw him, he failed not to make a noise with his sword, + at the same time crying, “Slay! slay!” Upon this the poor gentleman, + believing it was his [the servant’s] master, was in such great fear that, + without thinking of his cloak, he fled as quickly as he was able. + </p> + <p> + He met the archers of the watch, who wondered greatly to see him running + in this fashion, but he durst say nothing to them, except to beg them to + open him the gate [of the castle], or else to lodge him with themselves + until morning. And this, as they had not the keys, they did. + </p> + <p> + Then the Prince went to bed, and, finding his wife asleep, awoke her + saying— + </p> + <p> + “Guess, my wife, what hour it is.‘’ + </p> + <p> + “I have not heard the clock strike since I went to bed,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “It is three hours after midnight,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “If that be so,” said his wife, “where have you been all this time? I + greatly fear that your health will be the worse for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Sweetheart,” said the Prince, “watching will never make me ill when I am + engaged in preventing those who try to deceive me from going to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he began to laugh so heartily that his wife begged him to tell + her of the matter. This he did at length, showing her the wolf’s skin (4) + which his servant had brought him. After making merry at the expense of + the hapless lovers, they went to sleep in gentle tranquillity, while the + other two passed the night in torment, fearing and dreading lest the + affair should be revealed. + </p> + <p> + However, the gentleman, knowing right well that he could not use + concealment with the Prince, came to him in the morning when he was + dressing to beg that he would not expose him, and would give orders for + the return of his cloak. + </p> + <p> + The Prince pretended that he knew nothing of the matter, and put such a + face on it that the gentleman was wholly at a loss what to think. But in + the end he received a rating that he had not expected, for the Prince + assured him that, if ever he went to the lady’s room again, he would tell + the King of it, and have him banished the Court. + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, ladies, judge whether it had not been better for this poor + lady to have spoken freely to him who did her the honour of loving and + esteeming her, instead of leading him by her dissimulation to prove her in + a way that brought her so much shame.” + </p> + <p> + “She knew,” said Geburon, “that if she confessed the truth she would + wholly lose his favour, and this she on no account desired to do.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” said Longarine, “that when she had chosen a husband to + her liking, she ought not to have feared the loss of any other man’s + affection.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure,” said Parlamente, “that if she had dared to reveal her + marriage, she would have been quite content with her husband; but she + wished to hide it until her daughters were wed, and so she would not + abandon so good a means of concealment.” + </p> + <p> + “It was not for that reason,” said Saffredent, “but because the ambition + of women is so great that they are never satisfied with having only one + lover. I have heard that the discreetest of them are glad to have three—one, + namely, for honour, one for profit, and one for delight. Each of the three + thinks himself loved the best, but the first two are as servants to the + last.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak,” said Oisille, “of such women as have neither love nor + honour.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said Saffredent, “there are some of the kind that I describe, + whom you reckon among the most honourable in the land.” + </p> + <p> + “You may be sure,” said Hircan, “that a crafty woman will be able to live + where all others die of hunger.” + </p> + <p> + “And,” said Longarine, “when their craftiness is discerned, ‘tis death.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, ‘tis life,” said Simontault, “for they deem it no small glory to be + reputed more crafty than their fellows. And the reputation of ‘crafty,’ + gained thus at their own expense, brings lovers more readily under + subjection to them than does their beauty, for one of the greatest + delights shared by those who are in love is to conduct the affair slyly.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak,” said Ennasuite, “of wanton love, for the honourable has no + need of concealment.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Dagoucin, “I pray you put that thought out of your head. The + more precious the drug, the less should it be exposed to the air, because + of the perverseness of those who trust only to outward signs. These are + not different in the case of honourable and faithful affection than in any + other case, so they must none the less be hidden when the love is virtuous + than when it is the opposite, if one would avoid the evil opinion of those + who cannot believe that a man may love a lady in all honour, and who, + being themselves slaves to pleasure, think every one else the same. If we + were all of good faith, look and speech would be without concealment, at + least toward those who would rather die than take them in an evil sense.” + </p> + <p> + “I protest to you, Dagoucin,” said Hircan, “that your philosophy is too + deep for any man here to understand or believe. You would have us think + that men are angels, or stones, or devils.” + </p> + <p> + “I am well aware,” said Dagoucin, “that men are men and subject to every + passion, but there are some, nevertheless, who would rather die than that + their mistresses should, for their delight, do aught against their + consciences.” + </p> + <p> + “To die means a great deal,” said Geburon. “I would not believe that of + them were it uttered by the lips of the austerest monk alive.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I believe,” said Hircan, “that there is none but desires the very + opposite. But they make pretence of disliking the grapes when these hang + too high to be gathered.” + </p> + <p> + “Still,” said Nomcrfide, “I am sure that the Prince’s wife was very glad + to find that her husband was learning to know women.” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you it was not so,” said Ennasuite. “She was very sorry on + account of the love that she bore the lady.” + </p> + <p> + “I would as soon,” said Saffredent, “have the lady who laughed when her + husband kissed her maid.” + </p> + <p> + “In sooth,” said Ennasuite, “you shall tell us the story. I give place to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Although the story is very short,” said Saffredent, “I will still relate + it, for I would rather make you laugh than speak myself at length.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/036.jpg" width="100%" alt="036.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/037a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="037a.jpg the Lady Watching The Shadow Faces Kissing " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/037.jpg" width="100%" alt="037.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LIV</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>Thogas’s wife, believing that her husband loved none but + herself, was pleased that her serving-woman should amuse + him, and laughed when in her presence he kissed the girl + before her eyes, and with her knowledge</i>. +</pre> + <p> + Between the Pyrenees Mountains and the Alps, there dwelt a gentleman named + Thogas, (1) who had a wife and children, with a very beautiful house, and + so much wealth and pleasure at his hand, that there was reason he should + live in contentment, had it not been that he was subject to great pain + beneath the roots of the hair, in such wise that the doctors advised him + to sleep no longer with his wife. She, whose chief thought was for her + husband’s life and health, readily consented, and caused her bed to be set + in another corner of the room directly opposite her husband’s, so that + they could neither of them put out their heads without seeing each other. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 We are unable to trace any family named Thogas, which is + probably a fictitious appellation. Read backwards with the + letter h omitted it forms Sagot, whilst if the syllables be + transposed it suggests Guasto, a well-known Basque or + Navarrese name.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + This lady had two serving-women, and often when the lord and his lady were + in bed, they would each take some diverting book to read, whilst the + serving-women held candles, the younger, that is, for the gentleman, and + the other for his wife. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, finding that the maid was younger and handsomer than her + mistress, took such great pleasure in observing her that he would break + off his reading in order to converse with her. His wife could hear this + very plainly, but believing that her husband loved none but herself, she + was well pleased that her servants should amuse him. + </p> + <p> + It happened one evening, however, when they had read longer than was their + wont, that the lady looked towards her husband’s bed where was the young + serving-maid holding the candle. Of her she could see nothing but her + back, and of her husband nothing at all excepting on the side of the + chimney, which jutted out in front of his bed, and the white wall of which + was bright with the light from the candle. And upon this wall she could + plainly see the shadows both of her husband and of her maid; whether they + drew apart, or came near together or laughed, it was all as clear to her + as though she had veritably beheld them. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, using no precaution since he felt sure that his wife could + not see them, kissed her maid, and on the first occasion his wife suffered + this to pass without uttering a word. But when she saw that the shadows + frequently returned to this fellowship, she feared that there might be + some reality beneath it all, and burst into a loud laugh, whereat the + shadows were alarmed and separated. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman then asked his wife why she was laughing so heartily, so + that he might have a share in her merriment. + </p> + <p> + “Husband,” she replied, “I am so foolish that I laugh at my own shadow.” + </p> + <p> + Inquire as he might, she would never acknowledge any other reason, but, + nevertheless, he thenceforward refrained from kissing such shadow-faces. + </p> + <p> + “That is the story of which I was reminded when I spoke of the lady who + loved her husband’s sweetheart.” + </p> + <p> + “By my faith,” said Ennasuite, “if my maid had treated me in that fashion, + I should have risen and extinguished the candle upon her nose.” + </p> + <p> + “You are indeed terrible,” said Hircan, “but it had been well done if your + husband and the maid had both turned upon you and beaten you soundly. + There should not be so much ado for a kiss; and ‘twould have been better + if his wife had said nothing about it, and had suffered him to take his + pastime, which might perchance have cured his complaint.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said Parlamente, “she was afraid that the end of the pastime would + make him worse.” + </p> + <p> + “She was not one of those,” said Oisille, “against whom our Lord says, ‘We + have mourned to you and ye have not lamented, we have sung to you and ye + have not danced,’ (2) for when her husband was ill, she wept, and when he + was merry, she laughed. In the same fashion every virtuous woman ought to + share the good and evil, the joy and the sadness of her husband, and serve + and obey him as the Church does Jesus Christ.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 “They are like unto children sitting in the market-place, + and calling one to another, and saying, We have piped unto + you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye + have not wept.”—<i>St. Luke</i> vii. 32.—M. +</pre> + <p> + “Then, ladies,” said Parlamente, “our husbands should be to us what Christ + is to the Church.” + </p> + <p> + “So are we,” said Saffredent, “and, if it were possible, something more; + for Christ died but once for His Church, whereas we die daily for our + wives.” + </p> + <p> + “Die!” said Longarine. “Methinks that you and the others here present are + now worth more crowns than you were worth pence before you were wed.” + </p> + <p> + “And I know why,” said Saffredent; “it is because our worth is often + tried. Still our shoulders are sensible of having worn the cuirass so + long.” + </p> + <p> + “If,” said Ennasuite, “you had been obliged to wear harness for a month + and lie on the hard ground, you would greatly long to regain the bed of + your excellent wife, and wear the cuirass of which you now complain. But + it is said that everything can be endured except ease, and that none know + what rest is until they have lost it. This foolish woman, who laughed when + her husband was merry, was fond of taking her rest under any + circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure,” said Longarine, “that she loved her rest better than her + husband, since she took nothing that he did to heart.” + </p> + <p> + “She did take to heart,” said Parlamente, “those things which might have + been hurtful to his conscience and his health, but she would not dwell + upon trifles.” + </p> + <p> + “When you speak of conscience,” said Simontault “you make me laugh. ‘Tis a + thing to which I would have no woman give heed.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a good thing,” said Nomerfide, “if you had a wife like one + who, after her husband’s death, proved that she loved her money better + than her conscience.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you,” said Saffredent, “tell us that tale. I give you my vote.” + </p> + <p> + “I had not intended,” said Nomcrfide, “to relate so short a story, but, + since it is suited to the occasion, I will do so.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/042.jpg" width="100%" alt="042.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/043a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="043a.jpg the Servant Selling The Horse With The Cat " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Servant selling the Horse with the Cat] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/043.jpg" width="100%" alt="043.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LV</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A merchant’s widow, whilst carrying out her husband’s will, + interpreted its purport to the advantage of herself and her + children</i>. (1) +</pre> + <p> + In the town of Safagossa there lived a rich merchant, who, finding his + death draw nigh, and himself no longer able to retain possession of his + goods—-which he had perchance gathered together by evil means—thought + that if he made a little present to God, he might thus after his death + make part atonement for his sins, just as though God sold His pardon for + money. Accordingly, when he had settled matters in respect of his house, + he declared it to be his desire that a fine Spanish horse which he + possessed should be sold for as much as it would bring, and the money + obtained for it be distributed among the poor. And he begged his wife that + she would in no wise fail to sell the horse as soon as he was dead, and + distribute the money in the manner he had commanded. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 Whether the incidents here related be true or not, it is + probable that this was a story told to Queen Margaret at the + time of her journey to Spain in 1525. It will have been + observed (<i>ante</i>, pp. 36 and 42) that both the previous tale + and this one are introduced into the <i>Heptameron</i> in a semi- + apologetic fashion, as though the Queen had not originally + intended that her work should include such short, slight + anecdotes. However, already at this stage—the fifty-fifth + only of the hundred tales which she proposed writing—she + probably found fewer materials at her disposal than she had + anticipated, and harked back to incidents of her earlier + years, which she had at first thought too trifling to + record. Still, slight as this story may be, it is not + without point. The example set by the wife of the Saragossa + merchant has been followed in modern times in more ways than + one.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + When the burial was over and the first tears were shed, the wife, who was + no more of a fool than Spanish women are used to be, went to the servant + who with herself had heard his master declare his desire, and said to him— + </p> + <p> + “Methinks I have lost enough in the person of a husband I loved so dearly, + without afterwards losing his possessions. Yet would I not disobey his + word, but rather better his intention; for the poor man, led astray by the + greed of the priests, thought to make a great sacrifice to God in + bestowing after his death a sum of money, not a crown of which, as you + well know, he would have given in his lifetime to relieve even the sorest + need. I have therefore bethought me that we will do what he commanded at + his death, and in still better fashion than he himself would have done if + had he lived a fortnight longer. But no living person must know aught of + the matter.” + </p> + <p> + When she had received the servant’s promise to keep it secret, she said to + him— + </p> + <p> + “You will go and sell the horse, and when you are asked, ‘How much?’ you + will reply, ‘A ducat.’ I have, however, a very fine cat which I also wish + to dispose of, and you will sell it with the horse for ninety-nine ducats, + so that cat and horse together will bring in the hundred ducats for which + my husband wished to sell the horse alone.” + </p> + <p> + The servant readily fulfilled his mistress’s command. While he was walking + the horse about the market-place, and holding the cat in his arms, a + gentleman, who had seen the horse before, and was desirous of possessing + it, asked the servant what price he sought. + </p> + <p> + “A ducat,” replied the man. + </p> + <p> + “I pray you,” said the gentleman, “do not mock me.” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, sir,” said the servant, “that it will cost you only a + ducat. It is true that the cat must be bought at the same time, and for + the cat I must have nine and ninety ducats.” + </p> + <p> + Forthwith, the gentleman, thinking the bargain a reasonable one, paid him + one ducat for the horse, and the remainder as was desired of him, and took + his goods away. + </p> + <p> + The servant, on his part, went off with the money, with which his mistress + was right well pleased, and she failed not to give the ducat that the + horse had brought to the poor Mendicants, (2) as her husband had + commanded, and the remainder she kept for the needs of herself and her + children. (3) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 The allusion is not to the ordinary beggars who then, as + now, swarmed in Spain, but to the Mendicant friars.—Ed. + + 3 In Boaistuau’s and Gruget’s editions of the <i>Heptameron</i> + the dialogue following this tale is replaced by matter of + their own invention. They did not dare to reproduce Queen + Margaret’s bold opinions respecting the clergy, the monastic + orders, &c., at a time when scores of people, including even + Counsellors of Parliament, were being burnt at the stake for + heresy.—L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “What think you? Was she not far more prudent than her husband, and did + she not think less of her conscience than of the advantage of her + household?” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Parlamente, “that she did love her husband; but, seeing + that most men wander in their wits when at the point of death, and knowing + his intentions, she tried to interpret them to her children’s advantage. + And therein I hold her to have been very prudent.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” said Geburon. “Do you not hold it a great wrong not to carry out + the last wishes of departed friends?” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly I do,” said Parlamente; “that is to say if the testator be in + his right mind, and not raving.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you call it raving to give one’s goods to the Church and the poor + Mendicants?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not call it raving,” said Parlamente, “if a man distribute what God + has given into his hands among the poor; but to make alms of another + person’s goods is, in my opinion, no great wisdom. You will commonly see + the greatest usurers build the handsomest and most magnificent chapels + imaginable, thinking they may appease God with ten thousand ducats’ worth + of building for a hundred thousand ducats’ worth of robbery, just as + though God did not know how to count.” + </p> + <p> + “In sooth,” said Oisille, “I have many a time wondered how they can think + to appease God for things which He Himself rebuked when He was on earth, + such as great buildings, gildings, pictures and paint. If they really + understood the passage in which God says to us that the only offering He + requires from us is a contrite and humble heart, (4) and the other in + which St. Paul says we are the temples of God wherein He desires to dwell, + (5) they would be at pains to adorn their consciences while yet alive, and + would not wait for the hour when man can do nothing more, whether good or + evil, nor (what is worse) charge those who remain on earth to give their + alms to folk upon whom, during their lifetime, they did not deign to look. + But He who knows the heart cannot be deceived, and will judge them not + according to their works, but according to their faith and charity towards + Himself.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 4 “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and + a contrite heart, O God, thou will not despise.”—<i>Psalm</i> + li. 17.—Ed. + + 5 “For ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath + said, I will dwell in them and walk in them,” &c.—2 + <i>Corinthians</i> vi. 16.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “Why is it, then,” said Geburon, “that these Grey Friars and Mendicants + talk to us at our death of nothing but bestowing great benefits upon their + monasteries, assuring us that they will put us into Paradise whether we + will or not?” + </p> + <p> + “How now, Geburon?” said Hircan. “Have you forgotten the wickedness you + related to us of the Grey Friars, that you ask how such folk find it + possible to lie? I declare to you that I do not think that there can be + greater lies than theirs. Those, indeed, who speak on behalf of the whole + community are not to be blamed, but there are some among them who forget + their vows of poverty in order to satisfy their own greed.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks, Hircan,” said Nomerfide, “you must know some such tale, and if + it be worthy of this company, I pray you tell it us.” + </p> + <p> + “I will,” said Hircan, “although it irks me to speak of such folk. + Methinks they are of the number of those of whom Virgil says to Dante, + ‘Pass on and heed them not.’ (6) Still, to show you that they have not + laid aside their passions with their worldly garments, I will tell you of + something that once came to pass.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 6 <i>Non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa</i> (Dante’s + <i>Purgatorio</i>, iii. 51). The allusion is to the souls of + those who led useless and idle lives on earth, supporting + neither the Divinity by the observance of virtue, nor the + spirit of evil by the practice of vice. They are thus cast + out both from heaven and hell.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0017" id="linkimage-0017"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/049.jpg" width="100%" alt="049.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0018" id="linkimage-0018"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/051a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="051a.jpg the Grey Friar Introducing his Comrade to The Lady and Her Daughter " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Grey Friar introducing his Comrade to the Lady and her Daughter] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0019" id="linkimage-0019"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/051.jpg" width="100%" alt="051.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LVI</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A pious lady had recourse to a Grey Friar for his advice in + providing her daughter with a good husband, for whom she + proposed making it so profitable a match that the worthy + father, hoping to get the money she intended for her son-in- + law, married her daughter to a young comrade of his own. The + latter came every evening to sup and lie with his wife, and + in the morning returned in the garb of a scholar to his + convent. But one day while he was chanting mass, his wife + perceived him and pointed him out to her mother; who, + however, could not believe that it was he until she had + pulled off his coif while he was in bed, and from his tonsure + learned the whole truth, and the deceit used by her father + confessor</i>. +</pre> + <p> + A French lady, whilst sojourning at Padua, was informed that there was a + Grey Friar in the Bishop’s prison there, and finding that every one spoke + jestingly about him, she inquired the reason. She was told that this Grey + Friar, who was an old man, had been confessor to a very honourable and + pious widow lady, mother of only one daughter, whom she loved so dearly as + to be at all pains to amass riches for her, and to find her a good + husband. Now, seeing that her daughter was grown up, she was unceasingly + anxious to find her a husband who might live with them in peace and quiet, + a man, that is, of a good conscience, such as she deemed herself to + possess. And since she had heard some foolish preacher say that it were + better to do evil by the counsel of theologians than to do well through + belief in the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, she had recourse to her + father confessor, a man already old, a doctor of theology and one who was + held to lead a holy life by the whole town, for she felt sure that, with + his counsel and good prayers, she could not fail to find peace both for + herself and for her daughter. After she had earnestly begged him to choose + for her daughter such a husband as he knew a woman that loved God and her + honour ought to desire, he replied that first of all it was needful to + implore the grace of the Holy Spirit with prayer and fasting, and then, + God guiding his judgment, he hoped to find what she required. + </p> + <p> + So the Friar retired to think over the matter; and whereas he had heard + from the lady that she had got five hundred ducats together to give to her + daughter’s husband, and that she would take upon herself the charge of + maintaining both husband and wife with lodgment, furniture and clothes, he + bethought himself that he had a young comrade of handsome figure and + pleasing countenance, to whom he might give the fair maiden, the house, + the furniture, maintenance and food, whilst he himself kept the five + hundred ducats to gratify his burning greed. And when he spoke to his + comrade of the matter, he found that they were both of one mind upon it. + </p> + <p> + He therefore returned to the lady and said—“I verily believe that + God has sent his angel Raphael to me as he did to Tobit, to enable me to + find a perfect husband for your daughter. I have in my house the most + honourable gentleman in Italy, who has sometimes seen your daughter and is + deeply in love with her. And so to-day, whilst I was at prayer, God sent + him to me, and he told me of his desire for the marriage, whereupon, + knowing his lineage and kindred and notable descent, I promised him to + speak to you on the matter. There is, indeed, one defect in him, of which + I alone have knowledge, and it is this. Wishing to save one of his friends + whom another man was striving to slay, he drew his sword in order to + separate them; but it chanced that his friend slew the other, and thus, + although he himself had not dealt a blow, yet inasmuch as he had been + present at a murder and had drawn his sword, he became a fugitive from his + native town. By the advice of his kinsfolk he came hither in the garb of a + scholar, and he dwells here unknown until his kinsfolk shall have ended + the matter; and this he hopes will shortly be done. For this reason, then, + it would be needful that the marriage should be performed in secret, and + that you should suffer him to go in the daytime to the public lectures and + return home every evening to sup and sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” replied the worthy woman, “I look upon what you tell me as of great + advantage to myself, for I shall at least have by me what I most desire in + the world.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the Grey Friar brought his comrade, bravely attired with a + crimson satin doublet, and the lady was well pleased with him. And as soon + as he was come the betrothal took place, and, immediately after midnight, + a mass was said and they were married. Then they went to bed together + until daybreak, when the bridegroom told his wife that to escape discovery + he must needs return to the college. + </p> + <p> + After putting on his crimson satin doublet and his long robe, without + forgetting his coif of black silk, he bade his wife, who was still in bed, + good-bye, promising that he would come every evening to sup with her, but + that at dinner they must not wait for him. So he went away and left his + wife, who esteemed herself the happiest woman alive to have found so + excellent a match. And the young wedded Friar returned to the old father + and brought him the five hundred ducats, as had been agreed between them + when arranging the marriage. + </p> + <p> + In the evening he failed not to return and sup with her, who believed him + to be her husband, and so well did he make himself liked by her and by his + mother-in-law, that they would not have exchanged him for the greatest + Prince alive. + </p> + <p> + This manner of life continued for some time, but God in His kindness takes + pity upon those that are deceived without fault of their own, and so in + His mercy and goodness it came to pass that one morning the lady and her + daughter felt a great desire to go and hear mass at St. Francis, (1) and + visit their good father confessor through whose means they deemed + themselves so well provided, the one with a son-in-law and the other with + a husband. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 The church of the Grey Friars’ monastery, St Francis + being their patron.—B. J. +</pre> + <p> + It chanced that they did not find the confessor aforesaid nor any other + that they knew, and, while waiting to see whether the father would come, + they were pleased to hear high mass, which was just beginning. And whilst + the young wife was giving close heed to the divine service and its + mystery, she was stricken with astonishment on seeing the Priest turn + himself about to pronounce the <i>Dominus vobiscum</i>, for it seemed to + her that it was her husband or else his very fellow. She uttered, however, + not a word, but waited till he should turn round again, when, looking + still more carefully at him, she had no doubt that it was indeed he. Then + she twitched her mother, who was deep in contemplation, and said— + </p> + <p> + “Alas! madam, what is it that I see?” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” said her mother. + </p> + <p> + “That is my husband,” she replied, “who is singing mass, or else ‘tis one + as like him as can be.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, my daughter,” replied the mother, who had not carefully + observed him, “do not take such a thought into your head. It is impossible + that men who are so holy should have practised such deceit. You would sin + grievously against God if you believed such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless the mother did not cease looking at him, and when it came to + the <i>Ite missa est</i> she indeed perceived that no two sons of the same + mother were ever so much alike. Yet she was so simple that she would fain + have said, “O God, save me from believing what I see.” Since her daughter + was concerned in the matter, however, she would not suffer it to remain in + uncertainty, and resolved to learn the truth. + </p> + <p> + When evening was come, and the husband (who had perceived nothing of them) + was about to return, the mother said to her daughter— + </p> + <p> + “We shall now, if you are willing, find out the truth concerning your + husband. When he is in bed I will go to him, and then, while he is not + thinking, you will pluck off his coif from behind, and we shall see + whether he be tonsured like the Friar who said mass.” + </p> + <p> + As it was proposed, so was it done. As soon as the wicked husband was in + bed, the old lady came and took both his hands as though in sport—her + daughter took off his coif, and there he was with his fine tonsure. At + this both mother and daughter were as greatly astonished as might be, and + forthwith they called their servants to seize him and bind him fast till + the morning, nor did any of his excuses or fine speeches avail him aught. + </p> + <p> + When day was come, the lady sent for her confessor, making as though she + had some great secret to tell him, whereupon he came with all speed, and + then, reproaching him for the deceit that he had practised on her, she had + him seized like the other. Afterwards she sent for the officers of + justice, in whose hands she placed them both. It is to be supposed that if + the judges were honest men they did not suffer the offence to go + unpunished. (2) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 There is some little resemblance between this tale and + the 36th of Morlini’s <i>Novello, De monacho qui duxit + uxorem</i>.—M. +</pre> + <p> + “From this story, ladies, you will see that those who have taken vows of + poverty are not free from the temptation of covetousness, which is the + cause of so many ills.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, of so many blessings,” said Saffredent, “for with the five hundred + ducats that the old woman would have stored up there was made much good + cheer, while the poor maiden, who had been longing for a husband, was thus + enabled to have two, and to speak with more knowledge as to the truth of + all hierarchies.” + </p> + <p> + “You always hold the falsest opinions,” said Oisille, “that ever I knew. + You think that all women are of your own temper.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so, madam, with your good leave,” said Saffredent. “I would give much + that they were as easily satisfied as we are.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a wicked speech,” said Oisille, “and there is not one present but + knows the contrary, and that what you say is untrue. The story that has + just been told proves the ignorance of poor women and the wickedness of + those whom we regard as better than the rest of your sex; for neither + mother nor daughter would do aught according to their own fancy, but + subjected desire to good advice.” + </p> + <p> + “Some women are so difficult,” said Longarine, “that they think they ought + to have angels instead of men.” + </p> + <p> + “And for that reason,” said Simontault, “they often meet with devils, more + especially those who, instead of trusting to God’s grace, think by their + own good sense, or that of others, that they may in this world find some + happiness, though this is granted by none save God, from whom alone it can + come.” + </p> + <p> + “How now, Simontault!” said Oisille. “I did not think that you knew so + much good.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said Simontault, “‘tis a pity that I have not been proved, for I + see that through lack of knowledge you have already judged ill of me. Yet + I may well practise a Grey Friar’s trade, since a Grey Friar has meddled + with mine.” + </p> + <p> + “So you call it your trade,” said Parlamente, “to deceive women? Thus out + of your mouth are you judged.” + </p> + <p> + “Had I deceived a hundred thousand,” said Simontault, “I should yet not + have avenged the woes that I have endured for the sake of one alone.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said Parlamente, “how often you complain of women; yet, for all + that, we see you so merry and hearty that it is impossible to believe that + you have endured all the woes you speak of. But the ‘Compassionless Fair + One’ (3) replies that— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Tis as well to say as much + To draw some comfort thence.’” + + 3 <i>La belle Dame sans mercy</i>, by Alain Chartier.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “You quote a truly notable theologian,” said Simontault, “one who is not + only froward himself, but makes all the ladies so, who have read and + followed his teaching.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet his teaching,” said Parlamente, “is as profitable for youthful dames + as any that I know.” + </p> + <p> + “If it were indeed true,” said Simontault, “that the ladies were without + compassion, we might as well let our horses rest and our armour grow rusty + until the next war, and think of nothing but household affairs. And, I + pray you, tell me whether it is an excellence in a lady to have the + reputation of being without pity, or charity, or love, or mercy.” + </p> + <p> + “Without charity or love,” said Parlamente, “they should not be, but the + word ‘mercy’ sounds so ill among women that they cannot use it without + wounding their honour; for properly speaking ‘mercy’ means to grant a + favour sought, and we well know what the favour is that men desire.” + </p> + <p> + “May it please you, madam,” said Simontault, “there are some men who are + so reasonable that they crave nought but speech.” + </p> + <p> + “You remind me,” said Parlamente, “of one who was content with a glove.” + </p> + <p> + “We must know who this easy lover was,” said Hircan, “and so this time I + give my vote to you.” + </p> + <p> + “It will give me pleasure to tell the tale,” said Parlamente, “for it is + full of virtue.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0020" id="linkimage-0020"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/061.jpg" width="100%" alt="061.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0021" id="linkimage-0021"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/063a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="063a.jpg the English Lord Seizing The Lady’s Glove " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The English Lord seizing the Lady’s Glove] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0022" id="linkimage-0022"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/063.jpg" width="100%" alt="063.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LVII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>An English lord for seven years loved a lady without ever + venturing to let her know of it, until one day, when + observing her in a meadow, he lost all colour and control of + feature through a sudden throbbing of the heart that came + upon him. Then she, showing her compassion, at his request + placed her gloved hand upon his heart, whereupon he pressed + it so closely, whilst declaring to her the love he had so + long borne her, that she withdrew it, leaving in its place + her glove. And this glove he afterwards enriched with gems + and fastened upon his doublet above his heart, and showed + himself so graceful and virtuous a lover that he never + sought any more intimate favour of her</i>. +</pre> + <p> + King Louis the Eleventh (1) sent the Lord de Montmorency to England as his + ambassador, and so welcome was the latter in that country that the King + and all the Princes greatly esteemed and loved him, and even made divers + of their private affairs known to him in order to have his counsel upon + them. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 Some of the MS. say Louis XII., but we cannot find that + either the eleventh or twelfth Louis sent any Montmorency as + ambassador to England. Ripault-Desormeaux states, however, + in his history of this famous French family, that William de + Montmorency, who, after fighting in Italy under Charles + VIII. and Louis XII., became, governor of the Orléanais and + <i>chevalier d’honneur</i> to Louise of Savoy was one of the + signatories of the treaty concluded with Henry VIII. of + England, after the-battle of Pavia in 1525. We know that + Louise, as Regent of France, at that time sent John Brinon + and John Joachim de Passano as ambassadors to England, and + possibly William de Montmorency accompanied them, since + Desormeaux expressly states that he guaranteed the loyal + observance of the treaty then negotiated. William was the + father of Anne, the famous Constable of France, and died May + 24, 1531. “Geburon,” in the dialogue following the above + tale, mentions that he had well known the Montmorency + referred to, and speaks of him as of a person dead and gone. + It is therefore scarcely likely that Queen Margaret alludes + to Francis de Montmorency, Lord of La Rochepot, who was only + sent on a mission to England in 1546, and survived her by + many years.—L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + One day, at a banquet that the King gave to him, he was seated beside a + lord (2) of high lineage, who had on his doublet a little glove, such as + women wear, fastened with hooks of gold and so adorned upon the + finger-seams with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and pearls, that it was + indeed a glove of great price. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 The French word is <i>Millor (Milord)</i> and this is probably + one of the earliest instances of its employment to designate + a member of the English aristocracy. In such of the <i>Cent + Nouvelles Nouvelles</i> in which English nobles figure, the + latter are invariably called <i>seigneurs</i> or <i>chevaliers</i>, + and addressed as <i>Monseigneur</i>, Later on, when Brantôme + wrote, the term <i>un milord anglais</i> had become quite common, + and he frequently makes use of it in his various works. + English critics have often sneered at modern French writers + for employing the expression, but it will be seen from this + that they have simply followed a very old tradition.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + The Lord de Montmorency looked at it so often that the English lord + perceived he was minded to inquire why it was so choicely ordered; so, + deeming its story to be greatly to his own honour, he thus began— + </p> + <p> + “I can see that you think it strange I should have so magnificently + arrayed a simple glove, and on my part I am still more ready to tell you + the reason, for I deem you an honest gentleman and one who knows what + manner of passion love is, so that if I did well in the matter you will + praise me for it, and if not, make excuse for me, knowing that every + honourable heart must obey the behests of love. You must know, then, that + I have all my life long loved a lady whom I love still, and shall love + even when I am dead, but, as my heart was bolder to fix itself worthily + than were my lips to speak, I remained for seven years without venturing + to make her any sign, through fear that, if she perceived the truth, I + should lose the opportunities I had of often being in her company; and + this I dreaded more than death. However, one day, while I was observing + her in a meadow, a great throbbing of the heart came upon me, so that I + lost all colour and control of feature. Perceiving this, she asked me what + the matter was, and I told her that I felt an intolerable pain of the + heart. She, believing it to be caused by a different sickness than love, + showed herself pitiful towards me, which prompted me to beg her to lay her + hand upon my heart and see how it was beating. This, more from charity + than from any other affection, she did, and while I held her gloved hand + against my heart, it began to beat and strain in such wise, that she felt + that I was speaking the truth. Then I pressed her hand to my breast, + saying— + </p> + <p> + “‘Alas, madam, receive the heart which would fain break forth from my + breast to leap into the hand of her from whom I look for indulgence, life + and pity, and which now constrains me to make known to you the love that I + have so long concealed, for neither my heart nor I can now control this + potent God.’ + </p> + <p> + “When she heard those words, she deemed them very strange. She wished to + withdraw her hand, but I held it fast, and the glove remained in her cruel + hand’s place; and having neither before nor since had any more intimate + favour from her, I have fastened this glove upon my heart as the best + plaster I could give it. And I have adorned it with the richest rings I + have, though the glove itself is wealth that I would not exchange for the + kingdom of England, for I deem no happiness on earth so great as to feel + it on my breast.” + </p> + <p> + The Lord de Montmorency, who would have rather had a lady’s hand than her + glove, praised his very honourable behaviour, telling him that he was the + truest lover he had ever known, and was worthy of better treatment, since + he set so much value upon so slight a thing; though perchance, if he had + obtained aught better than the glove, the greatness of his love might have + made him die of joy. With this the English lord agreed, not suspecting + that the Lord de Montmorency was mocking him. (3) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 Alluding to this story, Brantôme writes as follows in his + <i>Dames Galantes</i>: “You have that English <i>Milord</i> in the + Hundred Tales of the Queen of Navarre, who wore his + mistress’s glove at his side, beautifully adorned. I myself + have known many gentlemen who, before wearing their silken + hose, would beg their ladies and mistresses to try them on + and wear them for some eight or ten days, rather more than + less, and who would then themselves wear them in extreme + veneration and contentment, both of mind and body.”— + Lalanne’s <i>OEuvres de Brantôme</i>, vol. ix. p. 309.—L. +</pre> + <p> + “If all men were so honourable as this one, the ladies might well trust + them, since the cost would be merely a glove.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew the Lord de Montmorency well,” said Geburon, “and I am sure that + he would not have cared to fare after the English fashion. Had he been + contented with so little, he would not have been so successful in love as + he was, for the old song says— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Of a cowardly lover + No good is e’er heard.’” + </pre> + <p> + “You may be sure,” said Saffredent, “that the poor lady withdrew her hand + with all speed, when she felt the beating of his heart, because she + thought that he was about to die, and people say that there is nothing + women loathe more than to touch dead bodies.” (4) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 4 Most of this sentence, deficient in our MS., is taken + from MS. No. 1520.—L. +</pre> + <p> + “If you had spent as much time in hospitals as in taverns,” said + Ennasuite, “you would not speak in that way, for you would have seen women + shrouding dead bodies, which men, bold as they are, often fear to touch.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” said Saffredent, “that there is none upon whom penance has + been laid but does the opposite of that wherein he formerly had delight, + like a lady I once saw in a notable house, who, to atone for her delight + in kissing one she loved, was found at four o’clock in the morning kissing + the corpse of a gentleman who had been killed the day before, and whom she + had never liked more than any other. Then every one knew that this was a + penance for past delights. But as all the good deeds done by women are + judged ill by men, I am of opinion that, dead or alive, there should be no + kissing except after the fashion that God commands.” + </p> + <p> + “For my part,” said Hircan, “I care so little about kissing women, except + my own wife, that I will assent to any law you please, yet I pity the + young folk whom you deprive of this trifling happiness, thus annulling the + command of St. Paul, who bids us kiss <i>in osculo sancto.</i>” (5) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 5 <i>Romans</i> xvi. 16; 1 <i>Corinthians</i> xvi. 20; 2 + <i>Corinthians</i> xiii. 12; I <i>Thessalonians</i> v. 26. Also 1 + <i>Peter</i> v. 14.—M. +</pre> + <p> + “If St. Paul had been such a man as you are,” said Nomerfide, “we should + indeed have required proof of the Spirit of God that spoke in him.” + </p> + <p> + “In the end,” said Geburon, “you will doubt Holy Scripture rather than + give up one of your petty affectations.” + </p> + <p> + “God forbid,” said Oisille, “that we should doubt Holy Scripture, but we + put small faith in your lies. There is no woman but knows what her belief + should be, namely, never to doubt the Word of God or believe the word of + man.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet,” said Simontauit, “I believe that there are more men deceived by + women than [women] by men. The slenderness of women’s love towards us + keeps them from believing our truths, whilst our exceeding love towards + them makes us trust so completely in their falsehoods, that we are + deceived before we suspect such a thing to be possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks,” said Parlamente, “you have been hearing some fool complain of + being duped by a wanton woman, for your words carry but little weight, and + need the support of an example. If, therefore, you know of one, I give you + my place that you may tell it to us. I do not say that we are bound to + believe you on your mere word, but it will assuredly not make our ears + tingle to hear you speak ill of us, since we know what is the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, since it is for me to speak,” said Dagoucin, “‘tis I who will tell + you the tale.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0023" id="linkimage-0023"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/070.jpg" width="100%" alt="070.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0024" id="linkimage-0024"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/071a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="071a. The Gentleman Mocked by The Ladies when Returning from The False Tryst " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Gentleman Mocked by the Ladies When Returning From The False Tryst] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0025" id="linkimage-0025"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/071.jpg" width="100%" alt="071.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LVIII.</i> + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A gentleman, through putting too much trust in the + truthfulness of a lady whom he had offended by forsaking her + for others just when she was most in love with him, was, by + a false tryst, deceived by her, and bemocked by the whole + Court</i>. +</pre> + <p> + At the Court of King Francis the First there was a lady (1) of excellent + wit, who, by her grace, virtue and pleasantness of speech, had won the + hearts of several lovers. With these she right well knew how to pass the + time, but without hurt to her honour, conversing with them in such + pleasant fashion that they knew not what to think, for those who were the + most confident were reduced to despair, whilst those that despaired the + most became hopeful. Nevertheless, while fooling most of them, she could + not help greatly loving one whom she called her cousin, a name which + furnished a pretext for closer fellowship. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 M. de Lincy surmises that Margaret is referring to + herself both here and in the following tale, which concerns + the same lady. His only reason for the supposition, however, + is that the lady’s views on certain love matters are akin to + those which the Queen herself professed.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + However, as there is nothing in this world of firm continuance, their + friendship often turned to anger and then was renewed in stronger sort + than ever, so that the whole Court could not but be aware of it. + </p> + <p> + One day the lady, both to let it be seen that she was wholly void of + passion, and to vex him, for love of whom she had endured much annoyance, + showed him a fairer countenance than ever she had done before. Thereupon + the gentleman, who lacked boldness neither in love nor in war, began hotly + to press the suit that he many a time previously had addressed to her. + </p> + <p> + She, pretending to be wholly vanquished by pity, promised to grant his + request, and told him that she would with this intent go into her room, + which was on a garret floor, where she knew there was nobody. And as soon + as he should see that she was gone he was to follow her without fail, for + he would find her ready to give proof of the good-will that she bore him. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, believing what she said, was exceedingly well pleased, and + began to amuse himself with the other ladies until he should see her gone, + and might quickly follow her. But she, who lacked naught of woman’s + craftiness, betook herself to my Lady Margaret, daughter of the King, and + to the Duchess of Montpensier, (2) to whom she said— + </p> + <p> + “I will if you are willing, show you the fairest diversion you have ever + seen.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 The former is Margaret of France, Duchess of Savoy and + Berry. Born in June 1523, she died in September 1574.— + Queen Margaret was her godmother. When only three years old, + she was promised in marriage to Louis of Savoy, eldest son + of Duke Charles III., and he dying, she espoused his younger + brother, Emmanuel Philibert, in July 1549. Graceful and + pretty as a child (see <i>ante</i>, vol. i. p. xlviii.), she + became, thanks to the instruction of the famous Michael de + l’ Hôpital, one of the most accomplished women of her time, + and Brantôme devotes an article to her in his <i>Dames + Illustres</i> (Lalanne, v. viii. pp. 328-37). See also Hilarion + de Coste’s <i>Éloges et Vies des Reines, Princesses, &c</i>., + Paris, 1647, vol. ii. p. 278. + + The Duchess of Montpensier, also referred to above, is + Jacqueline de Longwick (now Longwy), Countess of Bar-sur- + Seine, daughter of J. Ch. de Longwick, Lord of Givry, and of + Jane, <i>bâtarde</i> of Angoulême. In 1538 Jacqueline was + married to Louis II. de Bourbon, Duke of Montpensier. She + gained great influence at the French Court, both under + Francis I. and afterwards, and De Thou says of her that she + was possessed of great wit and wisdom, far superior to the + century in which she lived. She died in August 1561, and was + the mother of Francis I., Duke of Montpensier, sometimes + called the Dauphin of Auvergne, who fought at Jarnac, + Moncontour, Arques, and Ivry, against Henry of Navarre.—L., + B. J. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + They, being by no means enamoured of melancholy, begged that she would + tell them what it was. + </p> + <p> + “You know such a one,” she replied, “as worthy a gentleman as lives, and + as bold. You are aware how many ill turns he has done me, and that, just + when I loved him most, he fell in love with others, and so caused me more + grief than I have ever suffered to be seen. Well, God has now afforded me + the means of taking revenge upon him. + </p> + <p> + “I am forthwith going to my own room, which is overhead, and immediately + afterwards, if it pleases you to keep watch, you will see him follow me. + When he has passed the galleries, and is about to go up the stairs, I pray + you come both to the window and help me to cry ‘Thief!’ You will then see + his rage, which, I am sure, will not become him badly, and, even if he + does not revile me aloud, I am sure he will none the less do so in his + heart.” + </p> + <p> + This plan was not agreed to without laughter, for there was no gentleman + that tormented the ladies more than he did, whilst he was so greatly liked + and esteemed by all, that for nothing in the world would any one have run + the risk of his raillery. + </p> + <p> + It seemed, moreover, to the two Princesses that they would themselves + share in the glory which the other lady looked to win over this gentleman. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, as soon as they saw the deviser of the plot go out, they set + themselves to observe the gentleman’s demeanour. But little time went by + before he shifted his quarters, and, as soon as he had passed the door, + the ladies went out into the gallery, in order that they might not lose + sight of him. + </p> + <p> + Suspecting nothing, he wrapped his cloak about his neck, so as to hide his + face, and went down the stairway to the court, but, seeing some one whom + he did not desire to have for witness, he came back by another way, and + then went down into the court a second time. The ladies saw everything + without being perceived by him, and when he reached the stairway, by which + he thought he might safely reach his sweetheart’s chamber, they went to + the window, whence they immediately perceived the other lady, who began + crying out ‘Thief!’ at the top of her voice; whereupon the two ladies + below answered her so loudly that their voices were heard all over the + castle. + </p> + <p> + I leave you to imagine with what vexation the gentleman fled to his + lodgings. He was not so well muffled as not to be known by those who were + in the mystery, and they often twitted him with it, as did even the lady + who had done him this ill turn, saying that she had been well revenged + upon him. + </p> + <p> + It happened, however, that he was so ready with his replies and evasions + as to make them believe that he had quite suspected the plan, and had only + consented to visit the lady in order to furnish them with some diversion, + for, said he, he would not have taken so much trouble for her sake, seeing + that his love for her had long since flown. The ladies would not admit the + truth of this, so that the point is still in doubt; nevertheless, it is + probable that he believed the lady. And since he was so wary and so bold + that few men of his age and time could match and none could surpass him + (as has been proved by his very brave and knightly death), (3) you must, + it seems to me, confess that men of honour love in such wise as to be + often duped, by placing too much trust in the truthfulness of the ladies. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 This naturally brings Bonnivet to mind, though of course + the gay, rash admiral was not the only Frenchman of the time + who spent his life in making love and waging war.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “In good faith,” said Ennasuite, “I commend this lady for the trick she + played; for when a man is loved by a lady and forsakes her for another, + her vengeance cannot be too severe.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Parlamente, “if she is loved by him; but there are some who + love men without being certain that they are loved in return, and when + they find that their sweethearts love elsewhere, they call them fickle. It + therefore happens that discreet women are never deceived by such talk, for + they give no heed or belief even to those people who speak truly, lest + they should prove to be liars, seeing that the true and the false speak + but one tongue.” + </p> + <p> + “If all women were of your opinion,” said Simon-tault, “the gentlemen + might pack up their prayers at once; but, for all that you and those like + you may say, we shall never believe that women are as unbelieving as they + are fair. And in this wise we shall live as content as you would fain + render us uneasy by your maxims.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” said Longarine, “knowing as I well do who the lady is that played + that fine trick upon the gentleman, it is impossible for me not to believe + in any craftiness on her part. Since she did not spare her husband, ‘twere + fitting she should not spare her lover.” + </p> + <p> + “Her husband, say you?” said Simontault. “You know, then, more than I do, + and so, since you wish it, I give you my place that you may tell us your + opinion of the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “And since you wish it,” said Longarine, “I will do so.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0026" id="linkimage-0026"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/078.jpg" width="100%" alt="078.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0027" id="linkimage-0027"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/079a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="079a. The Lady Discovering Her Husband With The Waiting-woman " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Lady discovering her Husband with the Waiting-woman] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0028" id="linkimage-0028"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/079.jpg" width="100%" alt="079.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LIX</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>This same lady, finding that her husband took it ill that + she should have lovers with whom she amused herself without + hurt to her honour, kept close watch upon him, and so + discovered how pleasantly he addressed himself to one of her + waiting-women. This woman she gained upon, made her consent + to what her husband solicited, and then surprised him in + such error that to atone for it, he was forced to confess + that he deserved greater punishment than herself; by which + means she was afterwards able to live as her fancy listed</i>. +</pre> + <p> + The lady of your story was wedded to a rich gentleman of high and ancient + lineage, and had married him on account of the great affection that they + bore to one another. + </p> + <p> + Being a woman most pleasant of speech, she by no means concealed from her + husband that she had lovers whom she made game of for her pastime, and, at + first, her husband shared in her pleasure. But at last this manner of life + became irksome to him, for on the one part he took it ill that she should + hold so much converse with those that were no kinsfolk or friends of his + own, and on the other, he was greatly vexed by the expense to which he was + put in sustaining her magnificence and in following the Court. + </p> + <p> + He therefore withdrew to his own house as often as he was able, but so + much company came thither to see him that the expenses of his household + became scarcely any less, for, wherever his wife might be, she always + found means to pass her time in sports, dances, and all such matters as + youthful dames may use with honour. And when sometimes her husband told + her, laughing, that their expenses were too great, she would reply that + she promised never to make him a “coqu” or cuckold, but only a “coquin,” + that is, a beggar; for she was so exceedingly fond of dress, that she must + needs have the bravest and richest at the Court. (1) Her husband took her + thither as seldom as possible, but she did all in her power to go, and to + this end behaved in a most loving fashion towards her husband, who would + not willingly have refused her a much harder request. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 As Queen Margaret was by no means over fond of gorgeous + apparel and display, this passage is in contradiction with + M. de Lincy’s surmise that the lady of this and the + preceding tale may be herself. In any case the narrative + could only apply to the period of her first marriage, and + this was in no wise a love-match. Yet we are told at the + outset of the above story that the lady and gentleman had + married on account of the great affection between them. On + the other hand, these details may have been introduced the + better to conceal the identity of the persons referred to.— + Ed. +</pre> + <p> + Now one day, when she had found that all her devices could not induce him + to make this journey to the Court, she perceived that he was very pleasant + in manner with a chamber-woman (2) she had, and thereupon thought she + might turn the matter to her own advantage. Taking the girl apart, she + questioned her cleverly, using both wiles and threats, in such wise that + the girl confessed that, ever since she had been in the house, not a day + had passed on which her master had not sought her love; but (she added) + she would rather die than do aught against God and her honour, more + especially after the honour which the lady had done her in taking her into + her service, for this would make such wickedness twice as great. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 The French expression here is <i>femme de chambre à + chaperon</i>. The <i>chaperon</i> in this instance was a cap with a + band of velvet worn across it as a sign of gentle and even + noble birth. The attendant referred to above would therefore + probably be a young woman of good descent, constrained by + circumstances to enter domestic service.—B. J. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + On hearing of her husband’s unfaithfulness, the lady immediately felt both + grief and joy. Her grief was that her husband, despite all his show of + loving her, should be secretly striving to put her to so much shame in her + own household, and this when she believed herself far more beautiful and + graceful than the woman whom he sought in her stead. But she rejoiced to + think that she might surprise her husband in such manifest error that he + would no longer be able to reproach her with her lovers, nor with her + desire to dwell at Court; and, to bring this about, she begged the girl + gradually to grant her husband what he sought upon certain conditions that + she made known to her. + </p> + <p> + The girl was minded to make some difficulty, but when her mistress + warranted the safety both of her life and of her honour, she consented to + do whatever might be her pleasure. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, on continuing his pursuit of the girl, found her + countenance quite changed towards him, and therefore urged his suit more + eagerly than had been his wont; but she, knowing by heart the part she had + to play, made objection of her poverty, and said that, if she complied + with his desire, she would be turned away by her mistress, in whose + service she looked to gain a good husband. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman forthwith replied that she need give no thought to any such + matters, since he would bestow her in marriage more profitably than her + mistress would be able to do, and further, would contrive the matter so + secretly that none would know of it. + </p> + <p> + Upon this they came to an agreement, and, on considering what place would + be most suited for such a fine business, the girl said that she knew of + none better or more remote from suspicion than a cottage in the park, + where there was a chamber and a bed suitable for the occasion. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, who would not have thought any place unsuitable, was + content with the one she named, and was very impatient for the appointed + day and hour to come. + </p> + <p> + The girl kept her word to her mistress, and told her in full the whole + story of the plan, and how it was to be put into execution on the morrow + after dinner. She would not fail, said she, to give a sign when the time + came to go to the cottage, and she begged her mistress to be watchful, and + in no wise fail to be present at the appointed hour, in order to save her + from the danger into which her obedience was leading her. + </p> + <p> + This her mistress swore, begging her to be without fear, and promising + that she would never forsake her, but would protect her from her husband’s + wrath. + </p> + <p> + When the morrow was come and dinner was over, the gentleman was more + pleasant with his wife than ever, and although this was not very agreeable + to her, she dissembled so well that he did not perceive the truth. + </p> + <p> + After dinner she asked him how he was minded to pass away the time, and he + answered that he knew of nothing better than to play at “cent.” (3) + Forthwith everything was made ready for the game, but the lady pretended + that she did not care to take part in it, and would find diversion enough + in looking at the players. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 This is probably a reference to the card game now called + piquet, usually played for a hundred points. It is one of + the oldest of its kind. See Rabelais’ <i>Gargantua</i>, book i. + chap, xxii.—L. +</pre> + <p> + Just before he sat down to play, the gentleman failed not to ask the girl + to remember her promise to him, and while he was playing she passed + through the room, making a sign to her mistress which signified that she + was about to set out on the pilgrimage she had to make. The sign was + clearly seen by the lady, but her husband perceived nothing of it. + </p> + <p> + An hour later, however, one of his servants made him a sign from a + distance, whereupon he told his wife that his head ached somewhat, and + that he must needs rest and take the air. She, knowing the nature of his + sickness as well as he did himself, asked him whether she should play in + his stead, and he consented, saying that he would very soon return. + However, she assured him that she could take his place for a couple of + hours without weariness. + </p> + <p> + So the gentleman withdrew to his room, and thence by an alley into his + park. + </p> + <p> + The lady, who knew another and shorter way, waited for a little while, and + then, suddenly feigning to be seized with colic, gave her hand at play to + another. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she was out of the room, she put off her high-heeled shoes and + ran as quickly as she could to the place, where she had no desire that the + bargain should be struck without her. And so speedily did she arrive, + that, when she entered the room by another door, her husband was but just + come in. Then, hiding herself behind the door, she listened to the fair + and honest discourse that he held to her maid. But when she saw that he + was coming near to the criminal point, she seized him from behind, saying— + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I am too near that you should take another.” + </p> + <p> + It is needless to ask whether the gentleman was in extreme wrath, both at + being balked of the delight he had looked to obtain, and at having his + wife, whose affection he now greatly feared to lose for ever, know more of + him than he desired. He thought, however, that the plot had been contrived + by the girl, and (without speaking to his wife) he ran after her with such + fury that, had not his wife rescued her from his hands, he would have + killed her. He declared that she was the wickedest jade he had ever known, + and that, if his wife had waited to see the end, she would have found that + he was only mocking her, for, instead of doing what she expected, he would + have chastised her with rods. + </p> + <p> + But his wife, knowing what words of the sort were worth, set no value upon + them, and addressed such reproaches to him that he was in great fear lest + she should leave him. He promised her all that she asked, and, after her + sage reproaches, confessed that it was wrong of him to complain that she + had lovers; since a fair and honourable woman is none the less virtuous + for being loved, provided that she do or say nothing contrary to her + honour; whereas a man deserves heavy punishment when he is at pains to + pursue a woman that loves him not, to the wronging of his wife and his own + conscience. He would therefore, said he, never more prevent his wife from + going to Court, nor take it ill that she should have lovers, for he knew + that she spoke with them more in jest than in affection. + </p> + <p> + This talk was not displeasing to the lady, for it seemed to her that she + had gained an important point. Nevertheless she spoke quite to the + contrary, pretending that she had no delight in going to Court, since she + no longer possessed his love, without which all assemblies were + displeasing to her; and saying that a woman who was truly loved by her + husband, and who loved him in return, as she did, carried with her a + safe-conduct that permitted her to speak with one and all, and to be + derided by none. + </p> + <p> + The poor gentleman was at so much pains to assure her of the love he bore + her, that at last they left the place good friends. That they might not + again fall into such trouble, he begged her to turn away the girl through + whom he had undergone so much distress. This she did, but did it by + bestowing her well and honourably in marriage, and at her husband’s + expense. + </p> + <p> + And, to make the lady altogether forget his folly, the gentleman soon took + her to Court, in such style and so magnificently arrayed that she had good + reason to be content. + </p> + <p> + “This, ladies, was what made me say I did not find the trick she played + upon one of her lovers a strange one, knowing, as I did, the trick she had + played upon her husband.” + </p> + <p> + “You have described to us a very cunning wife and a very stupid husband,” + said Hircan. “Having advanced so far, he ought not to have come to a + standstill and stopped on so fair a road.” + </p> + <p> + “And what should he have done?” said Longarine. + </p> + <p> + “What he had taken in hand to do,” said Hircan, “for his wife was no less + wrathful with him for his intention to do evil than she would have been + had he carried the evil into execution. Perchance, indeed, she would have + respected him more if she had seen that he was a bolder gallant.” + </p> + <p> + “That is all very well,” said Ennasuite, “but where will you find a man to + face two women at once? His wife would have defended her rights and the + girl her virginity.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” said Hircan, “but a strong bold man does not fear to assail two + that are weak, nor will he ever fail to vanquish them.” + </p> + <p> + “I readily understand,” said Ennasuite, “that if he had drawn his sword he + might have killed them both, but otherwise I cannot see that he had any + means of escape. I pray you, therefore, tell us what you would have done?” + </p> + <p> + “I should have taken my wife in my arms,” said Hircan, “and have carried + her out. Then I should have had my own way with her maid by love or by + force.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis enough, Hircan,” said Parlamente, “that you know how to do evil.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure, Parlamente,” he replied, “that I do not scandalise the + innocence in whose presence I speak, and by what I have said I do not mean + that I support a wicked deed. But I wonder at the attempt, which was in + itself worthless, and at the attempter, who, for fear rather than for love + of his wife, failed to complete it. I praise a man who loves his wife as + God ordains; but when he does not love her, I think little of him for + fearing her.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” replied Parlamente, “if love did not render you a good husband, I + should make small account of what you might do through fear.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite safe, Parlamente,” said Hircan, “for the love I bear you + makes me more obedient than could the fear of either death or hell.” + </p> + <p> + “You may say what you please,” said Parlamente, “but I have reason to be + content with what I have seen and known of you. As for what I have not + seen, I have never wished to make guess or still less inquiry.” + </p> + <p> + “I think it great folly,” said Nomerfide, “for women to inquire so + curiously concerning their husbands, or husbands concerning their wives. + Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, without giving so much heed + to the morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet it is sometimes needful,” said Oisille, “to inquire into matters that + may touch the honour of a house in order to set them right, though not to + pass evil judgment upon persons, seeing that there is none who does not + fail.” + </p> + <p> + “Many,” said Geburon, “have at divers times fallen into trouble for lack + of well and carefully inquiring into the errors of their wives.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you,” said Longarine, “if you know any such instance, do not keep + it from us.” + </p> + <p> + “I do indeed know one,” said Geburon, “and since you so desire, I will + relate it.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0029" id="linkimage-0029"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/090.jpg" width="100%" alt="090.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0030" id="linkimage-0030"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/091a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="091a. The Chanter of Blois Delivering his Mistress from The Grave " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Chanter of Blois delivering his Mistress from the Grave] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0031" id="linkimage-0031"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/091.jpg" width="100%" alt="091.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LX</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A man of Paris, through not making good inquiry concerning + his wife, whom he believed dead, though she was indeed + making good cheer with a chanter to the King, married a + second wife, whom, after having several children by her and + consorting with her for fourteen or fifteen years, he was + constrained to leave, in order to take his first wife back + again</i>. +</pre> + <p> + In the city of Paris there was a man who was so good-natured that he would + have scrupled to believe a man abed with his wife, even if he had seen him + with his own eyes. This poor man married a woman whose conduct was as bad + as could be; nevertheless he perceived nothing of it, and treated her as + though she were the most virtuous woman alive. One day, however, when King + Louis XII. came to Paris, his wife surrendered herself to one of the + choir-men of the aforesaid sovereign, and when she found that the King was + leaving Paris and that she would no longer be able to see the singer, she + resolved to follow him and forsake her husband. To this the chanter + agreed, and brought her to a house that he had near Blois, (1) where for a + long while they lived together. The poor husband, finding that he had lost + his wife, sought her everywhere; and at last it was told him that she was + gone away with the chanter. + </p> + <p> + Wishing to recover the lost ewe which he had so badly watched, he wrote + many letters to her begging her to return to him, and saying that he would + take her back if she were willing to be a virtuous woman. But she took + such great delight in listening to the songs of the chanter, that she had + forgotten her husband’s voice, and gave no heed to all his excellent + words, but mocked at them. + </p> + <p> + Therefore the husband, in great wrath, gave her to know that, since she + would return to him in no other way, he would demand her in legal fashion + of the Church. (2) The wife, dreading that if the law should take the + matter in hand she and her chanter would fare badly, devised a stratagem + worthy of such a woman as herself. Feigning sickness, she sent for some + honourable women of the town to come and see her, and this they willingly + did, hoping that her illness might be a means of withdrawing her from her + evil life, with which purpose they addressed the sagest admonitions to + her. Thereupon she, whilst pretending to be grievously sick, made a show + of weeping and acknowledging her sinfulness in such sort that she gained + the pity of the whole company, who quite believed that she was speaking + from the bottom of her heart. And, finding her thus subdued and sorry, + they began to comfort her, telling her that God was in no wise so terrible + as many preachers represented Him, and that He would never refuse to show + her mercy. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 Louis XII.‘s favourite place of residence.—Ed. + + 2 Implying the Officialité or episcopal court.—B. J. +</pre> + <p> + After this excellent discourse, they sent for a virtuous man to come and + confess her, and on the morrow the priest of the parish came to administer + the Holy Sacrament. This she received so piously, that all the virtuous + women of the town who were present wept to see her devoutness, praising + God, who of His goodness had in this wise shown compassion upon this poor + creature. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards she pretended that she could no longer take food, whereupon the + extreme unction was brought by the priest and received by her with many + pious signs; for (as they thought) she was scarcely able to speak. She + continued thus for a great while, and it seemed as though she were + gradually losing her sight, hearing and other senses, whereat there came + from all a cry of “Jesus!” As night was at hand and the ladies were far + from home, they all withdrew; and just as they were leaving the house it + was told them that she was dead, whereupon, saying their <i>De profundis</i> + for her, they returned to their houses. + </p> + <p> + The priest asked the chanter where he would have her buried, and the other + replied that she had desired to be buried in the cemetery, and that it + would be well to bring her there at night. So the poor unfortunate was + shrouded by a serving-woman, who was careful not to hurt her, and then by + brave torchlight she was carried to the grave that the chanter had caused + to be made. + </p> + <p> + When the body passed in front of the houses of those who had been present + when she received the extreme unction, they all came forth and followed + her to the tomb; and there she was soon left by women and priests alike. + The chanter, however, did not go away, but, as soon as he saw the company + some distance off, he and the serving-woman opened the grave wherein was + his sweetheart more alive than ever, and he sent her secretly to his + house, where for a long time he kept her concealed. + </p> + <p> + The husband, who was in pursuit of her, came as far as Blois to demand + justice, when he found that she was dead and buried according to the + testimony of all the ladies of Blois. They told him, too, what a good end + she had made, and the worthy man was rejoiced to think that his wife’s + soul was in Paradise, and himself rid of her wicked body. + </p> + <p> + In this wise well content, he betook himself back to Paris, where he + married a beautiful and virtuous young woman, and a good housewife, by + whom he had several children, and with whom he lived for fourteen or + fifteen years. But at last rumour, which can keep nothing hid, advised him + that his wife was not dead, but was still dwelling with the wicked + chanter. The poor man concealed the matter as well as he was able, + pretending to know nothing about it, and hoping that it was a lie. But his + wife, who was a discreet woman, was told of it, and such was her anguish + at the tidings that she was like to die of grief. Had it been possible + without offence to her conscience, she would gladly have concealed her + misfortune, but it was not possible. The Church immediately took the + affair in hand, and first of all separated them from each other until the + truth of the matter should be known. + </p> + <p> + Then was this poor man obliged to leave the good and go after the bad, and + in this wise he came to Blois shortly after Francis the First had become + king. Here he found Queen Claude and my Lady the Regent, (3) to whom he + made his complaint, asking for her whom he would gladly not have found, + but whom, to the great compassion of the whole company, he was now obliged + to see. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 This shows that the incidents of the tale occurred in the + summer or autumn of 1515, when Francis I. was absent in + Italy conducting the campaign which resulted in the victory + of Marignano and the surrender of Milan.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + When his wife was brought before him, she strove for a long while to + maintain that he was not her husband, which he would willingly have + believed had he been able. More disappointed than abashed, she told him + that she would rather die than go back with him, and at this he was well + pleased; but the ladies in whose presence she spoke in this unseemly + fashion condemned her to return, and so rated the chanter with many a + threat, that he was obliged to tell his ugly sweetheart to go back with + her husband, and to declare that he himself would never see her more. + </p> + <p> + Rejected thus on all sides, the poor unfortunate withdrew to a home in + which she was fated to meet with better treatment from her husband than + she had deserved. + </p> + <p> + “You see, ladies, why I say that if the poor husband had been more + watchful over his wife, he would not thus have lost her. A thing that is + well guarded is difficult to lose, but heedlessness makes the thief.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis a strange thing,” said Hircan, “how strong love is just where it + seems most unreasonable.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard,” said Simontault, “that it were easier to break two + marriages than to sunder the love of a priest and his serving-maid.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe it,” said Ennasuite; “for those who bind others together in + marriage, are so well able to tie the knot that nought but death can + destroy it. Theologians, moreover, hold that spiritual language is of more + effect than any other, and in consequence spiritual love surpasses any + other kind.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a thing that I cannot forgive in ladies,” said Dagoucin, “when they + forsake an honourable husband or a lover for a priest, however handsome + and worthy the latter may be.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, Dagoucin,” said Hircan, “intermeddle not with our Holy Mother + Church. Be assured that ‘tis a great delight for timorous and + secret-loving women to sin with those who can absolve them; for there are + some who are more ashamed to confess a thing than to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak,” said Oisille, “of those who have no knowledge of God, and who + think not that secret matters are one day revealed in presence of the + Company of Heaven. But I think that it is not for confession’s sake that + they go after confessors; for the Enemy has so blinded them that they are + more concerned to attach themselves where they think there is most + concealment and security, than anxious to obtain absolution for the + wickedness of which they do not repent.” + </p> + <p> + “Repent, say you?” said Saffredent. “Nay, they deem themselves holier than + other women. I am sure that there are some who deem it honourable in + themselves that they are constant in such love.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak in such a manner,” said Oisille to Saffredent, “that I think + you know of some one of that kind. I pray you, therefore, begin the Day + tomorrow by telling us what you know. But now the last bell for vespers is + already ringing; for our friends the monks went off as soon as they had + heard the tenth tale, and left us to finish our discussions among + ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + At these words they all rose and came to the church, where they found the + monks awaiting them. Then, after hearing vespers, they all supped + together, talking the while of many excellent stories. After supper they + went, according to their wont, to disport themselves somewhat in the + meadow, and then retired to rest, in order that their memories might be + the sounder on the morrow. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0032" id="linkimage-0032"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/099.jpg" width="100%" alt="099.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SEVENTH DAY. + </h2> + <p> + <i>On the Seventh Day relation is made<br /> of such as have done<br /> + quite contrary to<br /> their duty<br /> or desire</i>. <a + name="link2H_PROL7" id="link2H_PROL7"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PROLOGUE. + </h2> + <p> + In the morning the Lady Oisille failed not to administer to them wholesome + nutriment, which she did by reading of the acts and virtuous deeds of the + glorious knights and apostles of Jesus Christ, as related by St. Luke, + telling them withal that these relations should suffice to make them long + for the return of such a time, and to make them weep for the uncomeliness + of this age as compared with that. When she had sufficiently read and + expounded to them the beginning of this excellent book, she begged them to + go to the church in such union as that in which the Apostles were wont to + pray, seeking of God the mercy which is never refused to those who ask for + it in faith. Her counsel was approved by all, and they came to the church + just as the Mass of the Holy Spirit was beginning; this seemed to them + very apt to the occasion, and they hearkened to the service in great + devotion. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards they went to dinner, where they called to mind the apostolic + life, and took such great delight in it that it was as though their + undertaking had been forgotten. But Nomerfide, who was the youngest, + noticed this, and said, “The Lady Oisille has made us so devout that we + are letting slip the hour at which we are wont to withdraw, in order to + make ready for the relating of our tales.” + </p> + <p> + Her words caused the whole company to rise, and, after they had been for a + while in their rooms, they failed not to repair to the meadow as on the + day before. When they were seated at their ease, the Lady Oisille said to + Saffredent, “Although I am certain that you will say nothing to the + advantage of women, yet I must call upon you to tell the tale that you had + in readiness yester evening.” + </p> + <p> + “I protest, madam,” replied Saffredent, “against winning the repute of a + slanderer through telling the truth, or losing the favour of virtuous + ladies through relating the deeds of the wanton. I have felt what it is to + lack their presence, and had I equally lacked their fair favours, I had + not been alive to-day.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he turned his eyes away from her who was the cause of his + happiness and of his woe; and, looking upon Ennasuite, caused her to blush + as deeply as though his words had been directed to her. Yet was he none + the less understood by her whom he desired should understand him. The Lady + Oisille then assured him that he might freely speak the truth at the cost + of any person concerned; whereupon he thus began:— + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0033" id="linkimage-0033"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/105a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="105a. The Lady Returning to Her Lover, The Canon of Autun " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Lady returning to her Lover, the Canon of Autun] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0034" id="linkimage-0034"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/105.jpg" width="100%" alt="105.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXI</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A husband is reconciled with his wife after she had lived + during fourteen or fifteen years with a Canon of Autun</i>. +</pre> + <p> + Near the town of Autun there lived a very beautiful woman, who was tall, + fair, and as handsome of feature as any I have ever seen. She was married + to an honest man who seemed somewhat younger than herself, and who loved + and treated her well enough to give her reason for content. + </p> + <p> + A little while after they were married, he took her to the town of Autun, + where he had business; and while he was engaged with the law, his wife + would go to the church to pray God for him. + </p> + <p> + She repaired so often to this holy place that a very rich Canon fell in + love with her, and wooed her so urgently that the unhappy creature gave + herself up to him. Her husband had no suspicion of this, however, for he + gave more thought to the guarding of his property than of his wife. + </p> + <p> + When the time for departure was come, and they must needs return to their + home, which was full seven leagues from the town, great was the woman’s + sorrow. But the Canon promised that he would often go and see her, and + this he did, pretending to be making some journey which led him past the + house. The gentleman, however, was not so foolish as not to perceive the + truth, and he so skilfully contrived matters, that when the Canon came + thither he no longer met the wife, who was too well hidden by her husband + to allow of his having any speech with her. The wife, knowing her + husband’s jealousy, gave no sign that this was displeasing to her; + nevertheless, she resolved to set things to rights, for she felt herself + as it were in hell, deprived as she was of the sight of her God. + </p> + <p> + One day, when her husband was abroad, she found a means to occupy her + servants, both men and women, after such a fashion that she was left alone + in the house. Immediately, she took what was needful, and, with no company + save that of the wanton love she carried with her, she repaired on foot to + Autun. Here she arrived none too late to be recognised by her Canon, who + kept her shut up in hiding for more than a year, and this in spite of the + monitions and excommunications that were procured against him by her + husband. + </p> + <p> + The latter, finding that he had no other remedy, at last complained to the + Bishop, who had an Archdeacon, as worthy a man as any at that time in + France. This Archdeacon himself searched with great diligence through all + the Canon’s houses, until he discovered the one in which the woman was + being kept in concealment, whereupon he cast her into prison, and laid + heavy penance upon the Canon. + </p> + <p> + The husband, knowing that his wife had been recovered by the counsels of + the Archdeacon and divers other excellent persons, was content to take her + back on her swearing to him that she would live for the future as beseemed + a virtuous woman. + </p> + <p> + This the worthy man in his deep love for her readily believed, and, + bringing her back to his house, he treated her as honourably as before, + except that he gave her two old serving-women who never left her, one or + other of them being at all times with her. + </p> + <p> + But, however kindly her husband might use her, the wicked love she bore + towards the Canon caused her to regard all rest as torment. And although + she was a very beautiful woman and her husband a man of excellent + constitution, vigorous and strong, she never had any children by him, her + heart being always seven leagues away from her body; this, however, she + concealed so well that it seemed to her husband that, like himself, she + had wholly forgotten the past. + </p> + <p> + But in her great wickedness she was not so minded; for, just when she saw + her husband most in love with her and having least suspicion, she + pretended to fall ill, and continued in this pretence until her husband + was in wondrous distress, and anxious to spare nought that might relieve + her. + </p> + <p> + However, she played her part so exceedingly well that he, and all in the + house, thought that she was sick unto death, and was growing by degrees + weaker and weaker. Finding that her husband was no less grieved than he + should have been glad, she begged of him that he would authorise her to + make her will, and this with tears he did. + </p> + <p> + Having power of bequest, although she had no children, she gave to her + husband what she could, craving at the same time his forgiveness for her + wrong-doing towards him. Then she sent for the priest, confessed herself, + and received the Holy Sacrament of the Altar with such devoutness, that + all wept to see so glorious an end. + </p> + <p> + When the evening was come, she begged her husband to send for the extreme + unction, saying that, as she was growing very weak, she was in fear lest + she might not live to receive it. Her husband in all haste caused it to be + brought by the priest, and she, by receiving it with very great humility, + prompted every one to praise her. + </p> + <p> + After she had got through her brave mysteries, she told her husband that, + having through God’s grace received all that the Church commands, she felt + great peace of conscience, and would fain take some rest; and she begged + him to do the like, seeing that he had great need of it after all his + weeping and watching with her. + </p> + <p> + When her husband was gone, and all his servants with him, the poor old + women, who had so long watched her in health and now had no fear of losing + her except by death, went contentedly and comfortably to bed. As soon as + she heard them asleep and loudly snoring, she rose in nothing but her + shift, and went out of the room, listening to hear if any one was yet + astir in the house. Taking every precaution, she then (as she well knew + how) let herself out through a little garden-gate that was not shut, and, + barefooted and in her shift, journeyed all night long towards Autun and + the saint, who had preserved her from death. + </p> + <p> + It happened, however, that as the distance was great, she could not + accomplish the whole of it before daylight overtook her. Looking then all + along the road, she perceived two horsemen who were galloping at full + speed, and thinking that it might be her husband in search of her, she hid + herself entirely in a marsh, with her head among the reeds. As her husband + (for he it was) passed close beside her, he spoke to a servant who was + with him, in tones of deep despair, saying— + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the wicked woman! Who could have thought that so foul and abominable + a deed could be hidden under cloak of the holy sacraments of the Church.” + </p> + <p> + “If Judas,” replied the servant, “feared not to betray his Master when he + was receiving the like, a woman’s treachery is but small matter for + wonder.” + </p> + <p> + At this point the husband passed on, and his wife remained among the + rushes, in greater gladness at having deceived and escaped him than she + had ever felt at home in a good bed but in subjection. + </p> + <p> + The poor husband sought her through all the town of Autun, but learning + for certain that she had not entered it, he retraced his steps, + complaining unceasingly of her and of his loss, and threatening her with + nothing short of death if he should find her. Of this she had as little + fear in her mind as she had of cold in her body, although the place and + season might well have caused her to repent of her evil journey. And any + one who did not know how the fire of hell inflames those that are filled + with it, must needs wonder how it was that this unhappy woman could so + leave a warm bed and continue for a whole day in the piercing cold. + </p> + <p> + Yet she neither lost courage nor gave up the journey, but, as soon as + night was come, went forward once more. Just as the gate at Autun was + being closed, this pilgrim arrived thither and repaired straight to the + shrine of her saint, who was in great wonder at her coming, and could + scarcely believe that it was indeed she. But when he had carefully looked + at her and examined her at all points, he found that, unlike a spirit, she + was really possessed of bone and flesh, and so became convinced that she + was no ghost. + </p> + <p> + And thenceforward they agreed so well together that she dwelt with the + Canon for fourteen or fifteen years. + </p> + <p> + Although for a time she lived in concealment, in the end she lost all + fear, and (what is worse) became so exceedingly proud of her lover that at + church she would set herself before most of the honourable women of the + town, wives of officials and others. Moreover, she had children by the + Canon, and among others a daughter who was married to a rich merchant, and + who had so magnificent a wedding that all the women of the town murmured + exceedingly, yet were powerless to set the affair to rights. + </p> + <p> + Now it happened that at this time Queen Claude, wife of King Francis, + passed through the town of Autun, having with her my Lady the Regent, + mother of the King aforesaid, and the Duchess of Alençon, her daughter. + (1) One of the Queen’s waiting-women, named Perrette, came to the Duchess + and said— + </p> + <p> + “Madam, I pray you listen to me, and you will do a better deed than if you + went to hear the whole day’s service at the church.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 This would have occurred in the late autumn of 1515, when + the Court journeyed southward to meet Francis I. on his + return from the Marignano campaign.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + The Duchess gave ready heed, knowing that nought but good counsel could + come from her. Then Perrette forthwith told her how she had taken a young + girl to help her in washing the Queen’s linen, and how, on asking the news + of the town, she had heard from her the vexation which all the honourable + women endured at seeing the Canon’s mistress go before them, together with + some of the history of the wicked woman’s life. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess went immediately to the Queen and my Lady the Regent, and told + them the story; and they, without any form of law, sent for the unhappy + woman. The latter sought no concealment, for her shame was turned to pride + at being mistress in the household of so rich a man; and hence, with no + feeling of confusion or disgrace, she presented herself before the ladies + aforesaid, who were so abashed by her hardihood that at first they knew + not what to say. After a time, however, my Lady the Regent rebuked her in + a fashion which would have made a right-thinking woman weep, though this + unhappy creature did not do so, but with great boldness said— + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, ladies, let my honour go unscathed, for, God be praised, I + have lived so well and virtuously with the Canon that no person alive can + say aught against me. And let it not be thought that I am living in + opposition to the will of God, since, for three years past, the Canon has + not come near me, and we live together as chastely and as lovingly as two + little angels, without any speech or wish between us to the contrary. And + any one separating us will commit a great sin, for the worthy man, who is + nigh eighty years old, will not live long without me, who am forty-five.” + </p> + <p> + You may imagine how the ladies then comported themselves, and what + remonstrance they all made with her; but, in spite of the words that were + spoken, and her own age, and the honourable indignation of those present, + her obstinacy was not softened. That she might be the more effectually + humbled, they sent for the good Archdeacon of Autun, and he condemned her + to lie in prison for a year, faring on bread and water. The ladies further + sent for her husband, and he, after hearing their excellent exhortations, + was content to take her back again after she should have performed her + penance. + </p> + <p> + But when she found that she was a prisoner, and that the Canon was + resolved to have her back no more, she thanked the ladies for having taken + a devil off her shoulders, and showed such deep and perfect contrition + that her husband, instead of waiting until the year should have expired, + came and asked her of the Archdeacon before a fortnight was over; and + since then they have lived together in all peace and affection. + </p> + <p> + “You see, ladies, how the chains of St. Peter are by wicked ministers + converted into those of Satan, which it is so hard to break that even the + sacraments, which cast out devils from the body, are here the means of + making them abide longer in the conscience; for the best things, when + abused, bring about most evil.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” said Oisille, “this woman was a very wicked one, but at the same + time she was well punished by her appearance before such judges as the + ladies you have named. The mere glance of the Lady Regent had such power + that never was there a woman, however virtuous, that did not dread being + found unworthy in her sight. Those who were looked upon kindly by her + deemed that they had earned a high honour, knowing as they did that none + but virtuous women were favoured by her.” (2) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 We are asked to believe that Oisille is none other than + the Lady Regent (Louise of Savoy), but is it likely she + would thus speak of herself? We can scarcely conceive Queen + Margaret perpetrating such a flagrant anachronism.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “It were indeed a fine thing,” said Hircan, “that there should be greater + dread of a woman’s eyes than of the Holy Sacrament, which, if it be not + received in faith and charity, brings with it eternal damnation.” + </p> + <p> + “Those,” said Parlamente, “who are not inspired by God are, I promise you, + in greater dread of the temporal than of the spiritual powers. And I + believe that the poor creature was brought to mend her ways rather by her + imprisonment and the thought of seeing her Canon no more, than by any + remonstrance that might have been made to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said Simontault, “you have forgotten the chief cause of her return + to her husband, which was that the Canon was eighty years old, whilst her + husband was younger than herself; so the worthy lady had the best of all + her bargains. Had the Canon been young, she would not have been willing to + forsake him, and the admonitions of the ladies would have been as + ineffectual as the sacraments.” + </p> + <p> + “Further,” said Nomerfide, “I think she did well not to confess her sin so + readily; such an offence ought to be humbly acknowledged to God, but + stoutly denied before men. Even though it be true, still, by deception and + swearing, doubt may be cast upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so,” said Longarine. “A sin can scarcely be so secret that it will + not become revealed, unless God in His pity conceal it, as in the case of + those who for love of Himself have truly repented.” + </p> + <p> + “And what,” said Hircan, “will you say of those women who have no sooner + done a deed of folly than they tell some one about it?” + </p> + <p> + “I think that a strange thing,” answered Longarine, “and a sign that sin + is not displeasing to them. If, as I said, a sin is not covered by the + mercy of God, it cannot be denied before men; there are many who, + delighting in such talk, glory to make their vices known, whilst others + who contradict themselves in this way become their own accusers.” + </p> + <p> + “If you know any such instance,” said Saffredent, “I give you my place and + beg you to tell it us.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen then,” said Longarine. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0035" id="linkimage-0035"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/117.jpg" width="100%" alt="117.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0036" id="linkimage-0036"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/119a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="119a. The Gentleman’s Spur Catching in The Sheet " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Gentleman’s Spur catching in the Sheet] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0037" id="linkimage-0037"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/119.jpg" width="100%" alt="119.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A lady’s tongue tripped so awkwardly whilst she was telling + a story, as if of another, to a dame of high degree, that + her honour thenceforward bore a stain which she could never + remove</i>. +</pre> + <p> + In the time of King Francis the First there lived a lady of the blood + royal, who was endowed with honour, virtue and beauty, and well knew how + to tell a story with grace and to laugh at such as might be told to her. + (1) This lady being at one of her houses, all her subjects and neighbours + came to see her; for she was as much liked as it were possible for woman + to be. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 M. de Lincy thinks that this lady may be Louise of Savoy, + who was very fond of listening to stories of an equivocal + character. This, it may be pointed out, is one of the + reasons why the commentators of the <i>Heptameron</i> suppose her + to be Oisille, though the latter in the conversational + passages following the tales displays considerable prudery + and devoutness. That Louise was a woman of extremely amorous + tendency is well known; we need, indeed, no better proof of + it than her unseemly passion for the Constable de Bourbon + when she was five-and-forty years of age. If she be the lady + of royal blood spoken of above, the incidents of the tale + may have occurred in the Bourbonnais, a considerable portion + of which passed into her hands after the flight of the + Constable from France. It will be noted that allusion is + made to the lady’s subjects, showing that she exercised a + feudal sway. As one of the commentators of the <i>Heptameron</i> + has pointed out, Queen Margaret always saw her mother—that + “donna terribilissima!” as De Lussy called her—in such an + ideal light that M. de Lincy’s surmise may well be a correct + one despite the attributes of honour, virtue and beauty + bestowed on the lady whom she speaks of.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + Among others there came a lady who hearkened whilst the rest told every + story they could think of in order to amuse the Princess. This lady then + resolved that she would not be behind the others, and accordingly said— + </p> + <p> + “Madam, I will tell you a fine story, but you must promise me not to speak + of it.” + </p> + <p> + Then she forthwith continued— + </p> + <p> + “The story, madam, is on my conscience a perfectly true one, and concerns + a married lady who lived in all honour with her husband, although he was + old and she was young. A gentleman who was her neighbour, seeing her + married to this old man, fell in love with her, and importuned her for + several years; but never received of her any reply save such as a virtuous + woman should make. One day the gentleman bethought him that if he could + take her at a disadvantage she might perchance be less harsh towards him, + and, after he had for a long while weighed the danger that he might run, + his love for the lady wholly banished his fears, and he resolved to find a + time and place. He kept excellent watch, and so one morning, when the + lady’s husband was going to another of his houses, and leaving at daybreak + by reason of the heat, the young gallant came to the house, where he found + the lady asleep in her bed, and perceived that the serving-women were gone + out of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Then, without having sense enough to fasten the door, he got into the + lady’s bed all booted and spurred as he was, and when she awoke, she was + as distressed as she could possibly be. But in spite of any remonstrance + that she could make to him, he took her by force, saying that if she + should make the matter known he would tell every one that she had sent for + him; and at this the lady was so greatly afraid that she durst not cry + out. Afterwards, on some of her women coming in, he rose in haste and + would have been perceived by none if his spur, which had become fastened + in the upper sheet, had not drawn it right off, leaving the lady quite + naked in her bed.” + </p> + <p> + So far the lady had told the story as if of another, but at the end she + involuntarily said— + </p> + <p> + “Never was a woman so confounded as I was, when I found myself lying quite + naked.” + </p> + <p> + At these last words the lady, who had hitherto hearkened to the story + without laughing, could not refrain from doing so, and said— + </p> + <p> + “By what I can see, you are well qualified to tell the tale.” + </p> + <p> + The poor lady tried in every possible way to clear her honour, but it was + already flown so far away that she was never able to recall it. + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, ladies, that had she felt any deep displeasure in doing + such a deed, she would have desired to forget it. But, as I have told you, + sin will of itself be discovered before it could otherwise be known, + unless it be hidden by the mantle which, as David says, makes man + blessed.” + </p> + <p> + “In good sooth,” said Ennasuite, “she was the greatest fool I have ever + heard of, to make the others laugh at her own expense.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not deem it strange,” said Parlamente, “that the word should follow + the deed, for it is easier to say than to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Geburon, “what sin had she committed? She was asleep in her + bed, he threatened her with shame and death; Lucrèce, who is so highly + praised, did just the same.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Parlamente, “and I confess that there is none too + righteous to fall. But when one has felt great offence in the deed, the + same holds good of the recollection; and whereas Lucrèce to efface the + latter killed herself, this foolish woman tried to make others laugh.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless,” said Nomerfide, “it seems that she was a virtuous woman, + seeing that she had been many times entreated but would never consent, so + that the gentleman must needs resort to treachery and force in order to + wrong her.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” said Parlamente. “Do you think that a woman has answered for her + honour, when she gives herself up after refusing two or three times? There + would then be many virtuous women among those that are deemed the + opposite, for many of them have been known to refuse for a long while + those to whom their hearts had been given, some doing this through fear + for their honour, and others in order to make themselves still more + ardently loved and esteemed. No account, therefore, should be made of a + woman unless she stands firm to the end. But if a man refuse a beautiful + girl, do you regard that as great virtue?” + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” said Oisille, “if a young and lusty man so refused, I should hold + it worthy of high praise, but none the less difficult of belief.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet,” said Dagoucin, “I know one who refused to partake in amours that + were sought after by all his comrades.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you,” said Longarine, “take my place and tell us the tale, yet + remember that you must here utter the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise you,” said Dagoucin, “that I will tell it in all its + simplicity, without any colouring or disguise.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0038" id="linkimage-0038"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/124.jpg" width="100%" alt="124.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0039" id="linkimage-0039"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/125a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="125a. The King Asking The Young Lord to Join his Banquet " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The King asking the Young Lord to join his Banquet] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0040" id="linkimage-0040"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/125.jpg" width="100%" alt="125.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXIII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A gentleman’s refusal of an amour that was sought after by + all his comrades, was imputed to him as great virtue, and + his wife loved him and esteemed him in consequence far more + than before</i>. (1) +</pre> + <p> + In the city of Paris there lived four girls, of whom two were sisters, and + such was their beauty, youth and freshness, that they were run after by + all the gallants. A gentleman, however, who at that time held the office + of Provost of Paris (2) from the King, seeing that his master was young, + of an age to desire such company, so cleverly contrived matters with all + four of the damsels that each, thinking herself intended for the King, + agreed to what the aforesaid Provost desired. This was that they should + all of them be present at a feast to which he invited his master. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 This story, omitted by Boaistuau, was included in + Gruget’s edition of the <i>Heptameron</i>.—L. + + 2 This is John de la Barre, already alluded to in Tale I. + The <i>Journal d’un Bourgeois de Paris</i> tells us that he was + born in Paris of poor parents, and became a favourite of + Francis I., who appointed him Bailiff of the capital, + without requiring him to pay any of the dues attaching to + the office. From the roll of the royal household for 1522, + we also find that he was then a gentleman of the bed chamber + with 1200 <i>livres</i> salary, master of the wardrobe (a post + worth 200 <i>livres</i>) and governor of the pages, for the board + and clothing of whom he received 5000 <i>livres</i> annually. In + 1526 he became Provost as well as Bailiff of Paris, the two + offices then being amalgamated. He was further created Count + of Etampes, and acquired the lordship of Veretz, best + remembered by its associations with the murder of Paul Louis + Courier. La Barre fought at Pavia, was taken prisoner with + the King, and remained his constant companion during his + captivity. Several letters of his, dating from this period + and of great historical interest, are still extant; some of + them have been published by Champollion-Figeac (<i>Captivité + de François Ier</i>) and Génin (<i>Lettres de Marguerite, &c</i>). + Under date 1533 (o. s.) the “Bourgeois de Paris” writes in + his <i>Journal</i>: “At the beginning of March there died in + Paris, at the house of Monsieur Poncher, Monsieur le Prévost + de Paris, named de La Barre.... The King was then in Paris, + at his chateau of the Louvre, and there was great pomp at + the obsequies; and he was borne to his lordship of Veretz, + near Tours, that he might be buried there.” Numerous + particulars concerning La Barre will also be found in M. de + Laborde’s <i>Comptes des Bâtiments du Roi au XVIeme Siècle</i>.— + L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + He told the latter his plan, which was approved both by the Prince and by + two other great personages of the Court, all three agreeing together to + share in the spoil. + </p> + <p> + While they were looking for a fourth comrade, there arrived a handsome and + honourable lord who was ten years younger than the others. He was invited + to the banquet, but although he accepted with a cheerful countenance, in + his heart he had no desire for it. For on the one part he had a wife who + was the mother of handsome children, and with whom he lived in great + happiness, and in such peacefulness that on no account would he have had + her suspect evil of him. And on the other hand he was the lover of one of + the handsomest ladies of her time in France, whom he loved and esteemed so + greatly that all other women seemed to him ugly beside her. + </p> + <p> + In his early youth, before he was married, he had found it impossible to + gaze upon and associate with other women, however beautiful they might be; + for he took more delight in gazing upon his sweetheart, and in perfectly + loving her, than in having all that another might have given him. + </p> + <p> + This lord, then, went to his wife and told her secretly of the enterprise + that his master had in hand, saying that he would rather die than do what + he had promised. For (he told her) just as there was no living man whom he + would not venture to attack in anger, although he would rather die than + commit a causeless and wilful murder unless his honour compelled him to + it; even so, unless driven by extreme love, such as may serve to blind + virtuous men, he would rather die than break his marriage vow to gratify + another. + </p> + <p> + On hearing these words of his, and finding that so much honour dwelt in + one so young, his wife loved and esteemed him more than she had ever done + before, and inquired how he thought he might best excuse himself, since + Princes often frown on those who do not praise what they like. + </p> + <p> + “I have always heard,” he replied, “that a wise man has a journey or a + sickness in his sleeve for use in time of need. I have therefore resolved + that I will feign a grievous sickness four or five days beforehand, and in + this matter your countenance may render me true service.” + </p> + <p> + “Tis a worthy and holy hypocrisy,” said his wife, “and I will not fail to + serve you with the saddest face I can command; for he who can avoid + offending God and angering the Prince is fortunate indeed.” + </p> + <p> + As it was resolved, so was it done, and the King was very sorry to hear + from the wife of her husband’s sickness. This, however, lasted no long + time; for, on account of certain business which arose, the King + disregarded his pleasure to attend to his duty, and betook himself away + from Paris. + </p> + <p> + However, one day, remembering their unfinished undertaking, he said to the + young lord:— + </p> + <p> + “We were very foolish to leave so suddenly without seeing the four girls + who are declared to be the fairest in my kingdom.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad,” replied the young lord, “that you failed in the matter, + for I was in great fear that, by reason of my sickness, I should be the + only one to miss so pleasant an adventure.” + </p> + <p> + By reason of this answer the King never suspected the dissimulation of the + young lord, who was thenceforward loved by his wife more dearly than he + had ever been before. + </p> + <p> + Hereupon Parlamente began to laugh, and could not hold from saying— + </p> + <p> + “He would have loved his wife better if he had done this for love of her + alone. But in any case he is worthy of great praise.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” said Hircan, “that it is no great merit in a man to keep + his chastity for love of his wife, inasmuch as there are many reasons + which in a manner compel him to do so. In the first place, God commands + it; his marriage vow binds him to it, and, further, surfeited nature is + not liable to temptation or desire as necessity is. But when the + unfettered love that a man bears towards a mistress of whom he has no + delight, and no other happiness save that of seeing her and speaking with + her, and from whom he often receives harsh replies—when this love is + so loyal and steadfast that nothing can ever make it change, I say that + such chastity is not simply praiseworthy but miraculous.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis no miracle in my opinion,” said Oisille, “for when the heart is + plighted, nothing is impossible to the body.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” said Hircan; “to bodies which have become those of angels.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not speak only of those,” said Oisille, “who by the grace of God are + wholly transformed into Himself, but of the grosser spirits that we see + here below among men. And, if you give heed, you will find that those who + have set their hearts and affections upon seeking after the perfection of + the sciences, have forgotten not only the lust of the flesh, but even the + most needful matters, such as food and drink; for so long as the soul is + stirred within the body, so long does the flesh continue as though + insensible. Thence comes it that those who love handsome, honourable and + virtuous women have such happiness of spirit in seeing them and speaking + with them, that the flesh is lulled in all its desires. Those who cannot + feel this happiness are the carnally-minded, who, wrapped in their + exceeding fatness, cannot tell whether they have a soul or not. But, when + the body is in subjection to the spirit, it is as though heedless of the + failings of the flesh, and the beliefs of such persons may render them + insensible of the same. I knew a gentleman who, to show that he loved his + mistress more dearly than did any other man, proved it to all his comrades + by holding his bare fingers in the flame of a candle. And then, with his + eyes fixed upon his mistress, he remained firm until he had burned himself + to the bone, and yet said that he had felt no hurt.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks,” said Geburon, “that the devil whose martyr he was ought to + have made a St. Lawrence of him; for there are few whose love-flame is hot + enough to keep them from fearing that of the smallest taper. But if a lady + had suffered me to endure so much hurt for her sake, I should either have + sought a rich reward or else have taken my love away from her.” + </p> + <p> + “So,” said Parlamente, “you would have your hour after the lady had had + hers? That was what was done by a gentleman of the neighbourhood of + Valencia in Spain, whose story was told to me by a captain, a right worthy + man.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, madam,” said Dagoucin, “take my place and tell it us, for I + am sure that it must be a good one.” + </p> + <p> + “This story, ladies,” said Parlamente, “will teach you both to think twice + when you are inclined to give a refusal and to lay aside the thought that + the present will always continue; and so, knowing that it is subject to + mutation, you will have a care for the time to come.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0041" id="linkimage-0041"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/132.jpg" width="100%" alt="132.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0042" id="linkimage-0042"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/133a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="133a. The Lady Swooning in The Arms of The Gentleman Of Valencia Who Had Become a Monk " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of Valencia who had become + a Monk] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0043" id="linkimage-0043"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/133.jpg" width="100%" alt="133.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXIV</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>After a lady had for the space of five or six years made + trial of the love that a certain gentleman bore her, she + desired to have a still stronger proof of it, and reduced + him to such despair that he turned monk, on which account + she was not able to win him back again when she would fain + have done so</i>. +</pre> + <p> + In the city of Valencia there lived a gentleman, who for the space of five + or six years had loved a lady so perfectly that the honour and conscience + of neither of them had taken any hurt; for his intent was to have her as + his wife, and this was reasonable, seeing that he was handsome, rich and + of good descent. But, before he became her lover, he first inquired + concerning her own mind, whereupon she declared herself willing to marry + according to the counsels of her kinsfolk. The latter, being come together + for the purpose, deemed the marriage a very reasonable one provided that + the maiden was herself disposed to it; but she—whether because she + thought to do better or because she wished to hide her love for him—-made + some difficulty, and the company separated, not without regret at having + failed to conclude a match so well suited to both parties. + </p> + <p> + The most grieved of all was the poor gentleman, who would have borne his + misfortune with patience had he thought that the fault lay with the + kinsfolk and not with her; but he knew the truth, and the knowledge was to + him worse than death. So, without speaking to his sweetheart or to any + other person, he withdrew to his own house, and, after setting his affairs + in order, betook himself to a solitary spot, where he strove to forget his + love and change it wholly to that love of our Lord which were truly a + higher duty than the other. + </p> + <p> + During this time he received no tidings of his mistress or her kindred, + and he therefore resolved that, since he had failed to obtain the happiest + life he could hope for, he would choose the most austere and disagreeable + that he could imagine. With this sad intent, which might well have been + called despair, he went and became a monk in the monastery of St. Francis. + This monastery was not far from the dwellings of divers of his kinsfolk, + who, on hearing of his desperate condition, did all that in them lay to + hinder his purpose; but this was so firmly rooted in his heart that it was + not possible to turn him from it. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, as the source of his distemper was known to them, they + determined to seek the cure, and so repaired to her who was the cause of + his sudden devoutness. She was greatly astonished and grieved by this + mischance, for, in refusing for a time, she had thought only to test his + affection, not to lose it for ever. Seeing now the evident risk that she + ran of doing this last, she sent him a letter, which, ill-translated, was + as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Since love, if tested not full needfully, + Steadfast and faithful is not shown to be, + By length of time my heart would that assay + Whereon itself was set to love alway— + To wit, a husband with that true love filled + Such as no lapsing time has ever killed. + This, then, was the sole reason that I drew + My kin to hinder for a year or two + That closest tie which lasts till life is not, + And whereby woe is oftentimes begot. + Yet sought I not to have you wholly sent + Away; such was in no wise my intent, + For none save you could I have e’er adored + Or looked to as my husband and my lord. + But woe is me, what tidings reach mine ear! + That you, to lead the cloistered life austere, + Are gone with speech to none; whereat the pain + That ever holds me, now can brook no rein, + But forces me mine own estate to slight + For that which yours aforetime was of right; + To seek him out who once sought me alone, + And win him who myself has sometimes won. + Nay then, my love, life of the life in me, + For loss of whom I fain would cease to be, + Turn hither, graciously, those eyes of pain + And trace those wandering footsteps back again. + Leave the grey robe and its austerity, + Come back and taste of that felicity + Which often you desired, and which to-day + Time has nor slain, nor swept away. + For you alone I’ve kept myself; and I, + Lacking your presence, cannot choose but die. + Come back then; in your sweetheart have belief, + And for past memories find cool relief + In holy marriage-ties. Ah! then, my dear, + To me, not to your pride give ready ear, + And rest of this assured, I had no thought + To give, sweetheart, to you offence in aught, + But only yearned your faithfulness to prove + And then to make you happy with my love. + But now that through this trial, free from scathe, + Are come your steadfastness and patient faith, + And all that loyal love to me is known, + Which at the last has made me yours alone, + Come, my beloved, take what is your due + And wholly yield to me, as I to you!” + </pre> + <p> + This letter, brought by a friend of hers with every remonstrance that it + was possible to make, was received and read by the gentleman friar with + such sadness of countenance, such sighs and such tears, that it seemed as + though he would drown and burn the poor epistle. But he made no reply to + it, except to tell the messenger that the mortification of his exceeding + passion had cost him so dear as to have taken from him both the wish to + live and the fear to die. He therefore requested her who had been the + cause of this, that since she had not chosen to satisfy his passionate + longings, she would, now that he was rid of them, abstain from tormenting + him, and rest content with the evil which was past. For that evil he could + find no remedy but the choice of an austere life, which by continual + penance might bring him to forget his grief, and, by fasts and + disciplines, subdue his body, till the thought of death should be to him + but a sovereign consolation. Above all, he begged that he might never hear + of her, since he found the mere remembrance of her name a purgatory not to + be endured. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman went back with this mournful reply, and reported it to the + maiden who did not hear it without intolerable sorrow. But Love, which + will not suffer the spirit utterly to fail, gave her the thought that, if + she could see him, her words and presence might be of more effect than the + writing. She therefore, with her father and the nearest of her kin, went + to the monastery where he abode. She had left nothing in her box that + might set off her beauty, for she felt sure that, could he but once look + at her and hear her, the fire that had so long dwelt in both their hearts + must of necessity be kindled again in greater strength than before. + </p> + <p> + Coming thus into the monastery towards the end of vespers, she sent for + him to come to her in a chapel that was in the cloister. He, knowing not + who it was that sought him, went in all ignorance to the sternest battle + in which he had ever been. When she saw him so pale and wan that she could + hardly recognise him, yet filled with grace, in no whit less winning than + of yore, Love made her stretch out her arms to embrace him, whilst her + pity at seeing him in such a plight so enfeebled her heart, that she sank + swooning to the floor. + </p> + <p> + The poor monk, who was not void of brotherly charity, lifted her up and + set her upon a seat in the chapel. Although he had no less need of aid + than she had, he feigned to be unaware of her passion, and so strengthened + his heart in the love of God against the opportunities now present with + him, that, judging by his countenance, he seemed not to know what was + actually before him. Having recovered from her weakness, she turned upon + him her beautiful, piteous eyes, which were enough to soften a rock, and + began to utter all such discourse as she believed apt to draw him from the + place in which he now was. He replied as virtuously as he was able; but at + last, finding that his heart was being softened by his sweetheart’s + abundant tears, and perceiving that Love, the cruel archer whose pains he + long had known, was ready with his golden dart to deal him fresh and more + deadly wounds, he fled both from Love and from his sweetheart, like one + whose only resource lay, indeed, in flight. + </p> + <p> + When he was shut up in his room, not desiring to let her go without some + settlement of the matter, he wrote her a few words in Spanish, which seem + to me so excellent in their matter that I would not by translating them + mar their grace. These were brought to her by a little novice, who found + her still in the chapel and in such despair that, had it been lawful, she + too would have remained there and turned friar. But when she saw the + words, which were these— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Volvete don venesti, anima mia, + Que en las tristas vidas es la mia,” (1) +</pre> + <p> + she knew that all hope was gone, and she resolved to follow the advice of + him and her friends, and so returned home, there to lead a life as + melancholy as that of her lover in his monastery was austere. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 “Return whence thou earnest, my soul, + for among the sad lives is mine.”’ +</pre> + <p> + “You see, ladies, what vengeance the gentleman took upon his harsh + sweetheart, who, thinking to try him, reduced him to such despair that, + when she would have regained him, she could not do so.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” said Nomerfide, “that he did not lay aside his gown and + marry her. It would, I think, have been a perfect marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “In good sooth,” said Simontault, “I think he was very wise. Anyone who + well considers what marriage is will deem it no less grievous than a + monkish life. Moreover, being so greatly weakened by fasts and abstinence, + he feared to take upon him a burden of that kind which lasts all through + life.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks,” said Hircan, “she wronged so feeble a man by tempting him to + marriage, for ‘tis too much for the strongest man alive; but had she + spoken to him of love, free from any obligation but that of the will, + there is no friar’s cord that would not have been untied. However, since + she sought to draw him out of purgatory by offering him hell, I think that + he was quite right to refuse her, and to let her feel the pain that her + own refusal had cost him.” + </p> + <p> + “By my word,” said Ennasuite, “there are many who, thinking to do better + than their fellows, do either worse or else the very opposite of what they + desire.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” said Geburon, “you remind me—though, indeed, the matter is + not greatly to the point—of a woman who did the opposite of what she + desired, and so caused a great uproar in the church of St. John of Lyons.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you,” said Parlamente, “take my place and tell us about it.” + </p> + <p> + “My story,” said Geburon, “will not be so long or so piteous as the one we + have heard from Parlamente.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0044" id="linkimage-0044"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/141.jpg" width="100%" alt="141.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0045" id="linkimage-0045"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/143a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="143a. The Old Woman Startled by The Waking of The Soldier " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Old Woman startled by the Waking of the Soldier] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0046" id="linkimage-0046"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/143.jpg" width="100%" alt="143.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXV</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>Though the priests of St. John of Lyons would fain have + concealed it, the falsity of a miracle was brought to light + through an old woman’s folly becoming known</i>. (1) +</pre> + <p> + In the church of St. John of Lyons there is a very dark chapel, and inside + it a stone tomb with figures of great personages raised life-like upon it, + whilst several men-at-arms lie all around it. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 We believe that the incident here narrated occurred early + in 1525, when Margaret is known to have been at Lyons. She + and her husband (on his return from Pavia) resided there at + the house of the Obédiencier de St. Just, and it was in the + church of St. Just that the Duke of Alençon was buried. + Doubtless it was during his illness that the <i>novena</i> + alluded to in the final tale of the <i>Heptameron</i> was + performed by Queen Margaret at the church of St. John of + Lyons, where the two most important chapels, according to + Quincarnon’s <i>Antiquités et la fondation de la Métropole + des Gaules, &c.</i>, Lyons, 1673, were the Most Holy Eucharist, + or Bourbon chapel, built in 1449 by Charles de Bourbon, + Primate of Gaul, and the Holy Sepulchre, or Good Friday + chapel, erected at the beginning of the fifteenth century by + Philip de Turey, Archbishop of Lyons. Unfortunately the + church of St. John was in 1652 devastated by the Huguenots, + who in their insensate fury destroyed almost all the tombs. + It is therefore now impossible to identify the chapel and + tomb to which the Queen of Navarre refers in the above + story, though her allusion to the dimness of the light would + incline us to place the incident she recounts in the + Chapelle du St. Sépulcre.—L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + One day a soldier, walking in the church at the very height of summer, + felt inclined to sleep, and, looking at this dark, cool chapel, resolved + to go and guard the tomb in sleep like the rest; (2) and accordingly he + lay down beside them. Now it chanced that a very pious old woman came in + while his sleep was the soundest, and having performed her devotions, + holding a lighted taper in her hand, she sought to fix this taper to the + tomb. Finding that the sleeping man was nearest to her, she tried to set + it upon his forehead, thinking that it was of stone; but the wax would not + stick to such stone as this, whereupon the worthy dame, believing that the + reason of it was the coldness of the statue, applied the flame to the + sleeper’s forehead, that she might the better fix the taper on it. At + this, however, the statue, which was not without feeling, began to cry + out. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 Meaning the recumbent statues of the men-at-arms.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + The good woman was then in exceeding fear, and set herself to shout, “A + miracle! a miracle!” until all who were in the church ran, some to ring + the bells, and the rest to view the miracle. The good woman forthwith took + them to see the statue that had stirred, whereupon many found food for + laughter; though the greater number were unable to feel any content, + inasmuch as they had really determined to make profit out of the tomb, and + to gain as much money by it as by the crucifix on their pulpit, which is + said to have spoken. (3) But when the woman’s folly became known the farce + came to an end. If all knew of their follies, they would not be accounted + holy nor their miracles true. And I would beg you, ladies, to see + henceforward to what saints you offer your candles. (4) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 The crucifix in the church of St. John was mainly of + silver, and, according to Quincarnon, at the time of a + Huguenot outbreak at Lyons it was thrown to the ground by a + Calvinist minister named Ruffy, who, after reducing it to + fragments, carried all the precious metal away with him.—M. + + 4 The latter portion of this story and all the dialogue + that follows it are omitted by Boaistuau in his edition. + Gruget inserted the dialogue, but he did not dare to print + the passage respecting the talking crucifix.—L. +</pre> + <p> + “‘Tis notable,” said Hircan, “that, whatever the matter in question may + be, women always do wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it wrong,” asked Nomerfide, “to bring candles to a tomb?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Hircan, “if the flame be turned against a man’s forehead; for + nothing good should be called good if it be attended with evil. You may be + sure that the poor woman thought she had made a fine gift to God with her + little candle.” + </p> + <p> + “I look not to the gift,” said Oisille, “but to the heart that offers it. + Perhaps this worthy woman had more love for God than those who offer great + torches; for, as the Gospel says, she gave of her need.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, I no not believe,” said Saffredent, “that God, who is sovereign + wisdom, can be pleased with the foolishness of women. Although simplicity + is pleasing to Him, I see from the Scriptures that He despises the + ignorant; and if He commands us to be as harmless as the dove, He none the + less commands us to be wise like the serpent.” + </p> + <p> + “For my part,” said Oisille, “I do not call the woman ignorant who brings + her candle or burning taper into the presence of God, and makes amends for + her wrongdoing on bended knees before her sovereign Lord, confessing her + unworthiness and with steadfast hope seeking pity and salvation.” + </p> + <p> + “Would to God,” said Dagoucin, “that all understood it in the same way as + you; but I do not believe that these poor fools do it with the intent you + say.” + </p> + <p> + “The women,” said Oisille, “who are least able to speak are just those who + are most sensible of the love and will of God; wherefore ‘tis well to + judge none but ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + Ennasuite laughed and said—“‘Tis no wonderful thing to have + frightened a sleeping varlet, since women of as lowly condition have + frightened noble Princes, without putting fire to their foreheads.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure,” said Geburon, “that you know some such story, which you are + willing to relate; wherefore, if it please you, you shall take my place.” + </p> + <p> + “The tale will not be a long one,” said Ennasuite, “but, could I recount + it just as it happened, you would have no desire to weep.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0047" id="linkimage-0047"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/147.jpg" width="100%" alt="147.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0048" id="linkimage-0048"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/149a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="149a. The Old Serving-woman Explaining Her Mistake To The Duke and Duchess of Vendôme " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Old Serving-woman explaining her Mistake <br /> to the Duke and + Duchess of Vendôme] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0049" id="linkimage-0049"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/149.jpg" width="100%" alt="149.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXVI</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>The Duke of Vendôme and the Princess of Navarre, whilst + resting together one afternoon, were surprised by an old + serving-woman, who took them for a prothonotary and a damsel + between whom she suspected some affection; and, through this + fine justicement, a matter, of which intimates were + ignorant, was made known to strangers</i>. +</pre> + <p> + In the year when the Duke of Vendôme married the Princess of Navarre, (1) + the King and Queen, their parents, after feasting at Vendôme, went with + them into Guienne, and, visiting a gentleman’s house where there were many + honourable and beautiful ladies, the newly married pair danced so long in + this excellent company that they became weary, and, withdrawing to their + chamber, lay down in their clothes upon the bed and fell asleep, doors and + windows being shut and none remaining with them. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 It was in October 1548, some eighteen months after Henry + II. had succeeded Francis I., that Anthony de Bourbon, Duke + of Vendôme, who after the King’s children held the first + rank in France, was married at Moulins to Margaret’s + daughter Jane of Navarre. The Duke was then thirty and Jane + twenty years old. “I never saw so joyous a bride,” wrote + Henry II. to Montmorency, “she never does anything but + laugh.” She was indeed well pleased with the match, the + better so, perhaps, as her husband had settled 100,000 + livres on her, a gift which was the more acceptable by + reason of her extravagant tastes and love of display. Ste. + Marthe, in his <i>Oraison Funèbre</i> on Queen Margaret, speaks + of her daughter’s marriage as “a most fortunate + conjunction,” and refers to her son-in-law as “the most + valiant and magnanimous Prince Anthony, Duke of Vendôme, + whose admirable virtues have so inclined all France to love + and revere him, that princes and nobles, the populace, the + great and the humble alike, no sooner hear his name + mentioned than they forthwith wish him and beg God to bestow + on him all possible health and prosperity.”—Ed +</pre> + <p> + Just, however, when their sleep was at its soundest, they were awakened by + their door being opened from without, and the Duke drew the curtain and + looked to see who it might be, suspecting indeed that it was one of his + friends who was minded to surprise him. But he perceived a tall, old + bed-chamber woman come in and walk straight up to their bed, where, for + the darkness of the room, she could not recognise them. Seeing them, + however, quite close together, she began to cry out— + </p> + <p> + “Thou vile and naughty wanton! I have long suspected thee to be what thou + art, yet for lack of proof spoke not of it to my mistress. But now thy + vileness is so clearly shown that I shall in no sort conceal it; and thou, + foul renegade, who hast wrought such shame in this house by the undoing of + this poor wench, if it were not for the fear of God, I would e’en cudgel + thee where thou liest. Get up, in the devil’s name, get up, for methinks + even now thou hast no shame.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke of Vendôme and the Princess hid their faces against each other in + order to have the talk last longer, and they laughed so heartily that they + were not able to utter a word. Finding that for all her threats they were + not willing to rise, the serving-woman came closer in order to pull them + by the arms. Then she at once perceived both from their faces and from + their dress that they were not those whom she sought, and, recognising + them, she flung herself upon her knees, begging them to pardon her error + in thus robbing them of their rest. + </p> + <p> + But the Duke of Vendôme was not content to know so little, and rising + forthwith, he begged the old woman to say for whom she had taken them. + This at first she was not willing to do; but at last, after he had sworn + to her never to reveal it, she told him that there was a girl in the house + with whom a prothonotary (2) was in love, and that she had long kept a + watch on them, since it pleased her little to see her mistress trusting in + a man who was working this shame towards her. She then left the Prince and + Princess shut in as she had found them, and they laughed for a long while + over their adventure. And, although they afterwards told the story they + would never name any of the persons concerned. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 The office of apostolic prothonotary was instituted by + Pope Clement I., there being at first twelve such officers, + whose duty was to write the lives of the saints and other + apostolic records. Gradually their number so increased, that + in the fifteenth century the title of prothonotary had come + to be merely an honorary dignity, conferred as a matter of + course on doctors of theology of noble family, or otherwise + of note. In the role of Francis I.‘s household for 1522, we + find but one prothonotary mentioned, but in that for 1529 + there are twelve. More than one of them might have been + called <i>un letrado que no tenia muchas letras</i>, as Brantôme + wrote of Thomas de Lescun, Prothonotary of Foix and + afterwards Marshal of France. “In those days,” adds the + author of <i>Les Grands Capitaines Français</i>, “it was usual + for prothonotaries and even for those of good family not to + have much learning, but to enjoy themselves, hunt, make love + and seduce the wives of the poor gentlemen who were gone to + the wars.”—<i>OEuvres complètes de Brantôme</i>, 8vo edit., vol. + ii. p. 144.—L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “You see, ladies, how the worthy dame, whilst thinking to do a fine deed + of justice, made known to strange princes a matter of which the servants + of the house had never heard.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I know,” said Parlamente, “in whose house it was, and who the + prothonotary is; for he has governed many a lady’s house, and when he + cannot win the mistress’s favour he never fails to have that of one of the + maids. In other matters, however, he is an honourable and worthy man.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say ‘in other matters’?” said Hircan. “Tis for that very + behaviour that I deem him so worthy a man.” + </p> + <p> + “I can see,” said Parlamente, “that you know the sickness and the + sufferer, and that, if he needed excuse, you would not fail him as + advocate. Yet I would not trust myself to a man who could not contrive his + affairs without having them known to the serving-women.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you imagine,” said Nomerfide, “that men care whether such a matter + be known if only they can compass their end? You may be sure that, even if + none spoke of it but themselves, it would still of necessity be known.” + </p> + <p> + “They have no need,” said Hircan angrily, “to say all that they know.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” she replied, blushing, “they would not say it to their own + advantage.” + </p> + <p> + “Judging from your words,” said Simontault, “it would seem that men + delight in hearing evil spoken about women, and I am sure that you reckon + me among men of that kind. I therefore greatly wish to speak well of one + of your sex, in order that I may not be held a slanderer by all the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “I give you my place,” said Ennasuite, “praying you withal to control your + natural disposition, so that you may acquit yourself worthily in our + honour.” + </p> + <p> + Forthwith Simontault began— + </p> + <p> + “Tis no new thing, ladies, to hear of some virtuous act on your part + which, methinks, should not be hidden but rather written in letters of + gold, that it may serve women as an example, and give men cause for + admiration at seeing in the weaker sex that from which weakness is prone + to shrink. I am prompted, therefore, to relate something that I heard from + Captain Robertval and divers of his company.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0050" id="linkimage-0050"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/154.jpg" width="100%" alt="154.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0051" id="linkimage-0051"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/155a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="155a. The Wife Reading to Her Husband on The Desert Island " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Wife Reading to her Husband on the Desert Island] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0052" id="linkimage-0052"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/155.jpg" width="100%" alt="155.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXVII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A poor woman risked her own life to save that of her + husband, whom she forsook not until death</i>. +</pre> + <p> + The Captain Robertval aforesaid once made a voyage across the seas to the + island of Canadas, (1) himself being chief in command by the appointment + of the King, his master. And there, if the air of the country were good, + he had resolved to dwell and to build towns and castles. With this work he + made such a beginning as is known to all; and to people the country with + Christians he took with him all kinds of artificers, among whom was a most + wicked man, who betrayed his master and put him in danger of being + captured by the natives. But God willed that his attempt should be + discovered before any evil befell the Captain, who, seizing the wicked + traitor, was minded to punish him as he deserved. And this he would have + done but for the man’s wife, who had followed her husband through the + perils of the deep and would not now leave him to die, but with many tears + so wrought upon the Captain and all his company that, for pity of her and + for the sake of the services she had done them, her request was granted. + In consequence, husband and wife were left together on a small island in + the sea, inhabited only by wild beasts, and were suffered to take with + them such things as were needful. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 Canada had been discovered by Cabot in 1497; and in 1535 + James Cartier sailed up the St. Lawrence and, taking + possession of the country in the name of Francis I., called + it La Nouvelle France. Seven years later a gentleman of + Picardy, named John Francis de La Roque, Lord of Robertval, + accompanying Cartier, established a colony on the Isle + Royale, and subsequently built the fort of Charlebourg. One + of his pilots, named Alphonse of Saintonge, meanwhile + reconnoitred the coasts both of Canada and Labrador. About + this time (1542) the incidents related in the above tale + must have occurred.—L. +</pre> + <p> + The poor folk, finding themselves all alone and surrounded by wild and + cruel beasts, had no recourse but to God, who had ever been this poor + woman’s steadfast hope; and, since she found all her consolation in Him, + she carried the New Testament with her for safeguard, nourishment and + consolation, and in it read unceasingly. Further, she laboured with her + husband to make them a little dwelling as best they might, and when the + lions (2) and other animals came near to devour them, the husband with his + arquebuss and she with stones made so stout a defence that not only were + the beasts afraid to approach, but often some were slain that were very + good for food. And on this flesh and the herbs of the land, they lived for + some time after their bread failed them. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 This mention of lions on a small desert island in the + Canadian seas would be rather perplexing did we not know how + great at that time was the general ignorance on most matters + connected with natural history. Possibly the allusion may be + to the <i>lion marin</i>, as the French call the leonine seal. + This, however, is anything but an aggressive animal. + Curiously enough, Florimond de Rémond, the sixteenth century + writer, speaks of a drawing of a “marine lion” given to him + “by that most illustrious lady Margaret Queen of Navarre, to + whom it had been presented by a Spanish gentleman, who was + taking a second copy of it to the Emperor Charles V., then + in Spain.”—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + At last, however, the husband could no longer endure this nutriment, and + by reason of the waters that they drank became so swollen that in a short + while he died, and this without any service or consolation save from his + wife, she being both his doctor and his confessor; and when he had + joyously passed out of the desert into the heavenly country, the poor + woman, left now in solitude, buried him in the earth as deeply as she was + able. Nevertheless the beasts quickly knew of it, and came to eat the dead + body; but the poor woman, firing with the arquebuss from her cabin, saved + her husband’s flesh from finding such a grave. + </p> + <p> + Leading thus in regard to her body the life of a brute, and in regard to + her soul the life of an angel, she passed her time in reading, + meditations, prayers and orisons, having a glad and happy mind in a wasted + and half-dead body. But He who never forsakes His own, and who manifests + His power when others are in despair, did not suffer the virtue that he + had put into this woman to be unknown by men, but willed that it should be + made manifest to His own glory. He therefore brought things so to pass, + that after some time, when one of the ships of the armament was passing by + the island, those that were looking that way perceived some smoke, which + reminded them of the persons who had been left there, and they resolved to + go and see what God had done with them. + </p> + <p> + The poor woman, seeing the ship draw nigh, dragged herself to the shore, + and there they found her on their arrival. After giving praise to God, she + brought them to her poor cottage and showed them on what she had lived + during her abode in that place. This would have seemed to them impossible + of belief, but for their knowledge that God is as powerful to feed His + servants in a desert as at the greatest banquet in the world. As the poor + woman could not continue in such a spot, they took her with them straight + to La Rochelle, where, their voyage ended, they arrived. And when they had + made known to the inhabitants the faithfulness and endurance of this + woman, she was very honourably received by all the ladies, who gladly sent + their daughters to her to learn to read and write. In this honest calling + she maintained herself for the rest of her life, having no other desire + save to admonish every one to love and trust Our Lord, and setting forth + as an example the great compassion that He had shown towards her. + </p> + <p> + “Now, ladies, you cannot say I do not praise the virtues which God has + given you, and which show the more when possessed by one of lowly + condition.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, we are not sorry,” said Oisille, “to hear you praise the mercies of + Our Lord, for in truth all virtue comes from Him; but we must confess that + man assists in the work of God as little as women. Neither can by heart or + will do more than plant. God alone giveth the increase.” + </p> + <p> + “If you have studied Scripture,” said Saffredent, “you know that St. Paul + says that Apollos planted and he himself watered; (3) but he does not + speak of women as having set hand to the work of God.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 The text is just the contrary: “I have planted, Apollos + watered; but God gave the increase.”—I <i>Corinthians</i> iii. + 6.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “You would follow,” said Parlamente, “the opinion of those wicked men who + take a passage of Scripture that is in their favour and leave one that is + against them. If you had read St. Paul to the end, you would have found + that he commends himself to the ladies, who greatly laboured with him in + the work of the Gospel.” + </p> + <p> + “However that may be,” said Longarine, “the woman in the story is well + worthy of praise both for the love she bore her husband, on whose behalf + she risked her own life, and for the faith she had in God, who, as we see, + did not forsake her.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Ennasuite, “as far as the first is concerned, that there + is no woman present but would do as much to save her husband’s life.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Parlamente, “that some husbands are such brutes that the + women who live with them should not find it strange to live among their + fellows.” + </p> + <p> + Ennasuite, who took these words to herself, could not refrain from saying— + </p> + <p> + “Provided the beasts did not bite me, their company would be more pleasant + to me than that of men, who are choleric and intolerable. But I abide by + what I have said, that, if my husband were in a like danger, I should not + leave him to die.” + </p> + <p> + “Beware,” said Nomerfide, “of loving too fondly, for excess of love will + deceive both him and you. There is a medium in all things, and through + lack of knowledge love often gives birth to hate.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks,” said Simontault, “you have not carried your discourse so far + without having an instance to confirm it. If, then, you know such a one, I + give you my place that you may tell it to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Nomerfide, “the tale shall, as is my wont, be a short and a + merry one.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0053" id="linkimage-0053"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/161.jpg" width="100%" alt="161.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0054" id="linkimage-0054"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/163a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="163a. The Apothecary’s Wife Giving The Dose of Cantharides To Her Husband " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Apothecary’s Wife giving the Dose of Cantharides <br /> to her + Husband] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0055" id="linkimage-0055"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/163.jpg" width="100%" alt="163.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXVIII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>An apothecary’s wife, finding that her husband made no + great account of her, and wishing to be better loved by him, + followed the advice that he had given to a “commère” (1) of + his, whose sickness was of the same kind as her own; but she + prospered not so well as the other, and instead of love + reaped hate</i>. + + 1 Mr W. Kelly has pointed out (Bohn’s <i>Heptameron</i>, p. 395) + that in France the godfather and godmother of a child are + called in reference to each other compère and commère, terms + implying mutual relations of an extremely friendly kind. “The + same usage exists in all Catholic countries,” adds Mr Kelly, + “and one of the novels of the <i>Decameron</i> is founded on a + very general opinion in Italy that an amorous connection + between a <i>compadre</i> and his <i>commadre</i> partook almost of + the nature of incest.” + </pre> + <p> + In the town of Pau in Beam there was an apothecary whom men called Master + Stephen. He had married a virtuous wife and a thrifty, with beauty enough + to content him. But just as he was wont to taste different drugs, so did + he also with women, that he might be the better able to speak of all + kinds. His wife was greatly tormented by this, and at last lost all + patience; for he made no account of her except by way of penance during + Holy Week. + </p> + <p> + One day when the apothecary was in his shop, and his wife had hidden + herself behind him to listen to what he might say, a woman, who was + “commère” to the apothecary, and was stricken with the same sickness as + his own wife, came in, and, sighing, said to him— + </p> + <p> + “Alas, good godfather, I am the most unhappy woman alive. I love my + husband better than myself, and do nothing but think of how I may serve + and obey him; but all my labour is wasted, for he prefers the wickedest, + foulest, vilest woman in the town to me. So, godfather, if you know of any + drug that will change his humour, prithee give it me, and, if I be well + treated by him, I promise to reward you by all means in my power.” + </p> + <p> + The apothecary, to comfort her, said that he knew of a powder which, if + she gave it to her husband with his broth or roast, after the fashion of + Duke’s powder, (2) would induce him to entertain her in the best possible + manner. The poor woman, wishing to behold this miracle, asked him what the + powder was, and whether she could have some of it. He declared that there + was nothing like powder of cantharides, of which he had a goodly store; + and before they parted she made him prepare this powder, and took as much + of it as was needful for her purpose. And afterwards she often thanked the + apothecary, for her husband, who was strong and lusty, and did not take + too much, was none the worse for it. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 Boaistuau and Gruget call this preparation <i>poudre de + Dun</i>, as enigmatical an appellation as <i>poudre de Duc</i>. As + for the specific supplied by the apothecary, the context + shows that this was the same aphrodisiac as the Marquis de + Sades put to such a detestable use at Marseilles in 1772, + when, after fleeing from justice, he was formally sentenced + to death, and broken, in effigy, upon the wheel. See P. + Lacroix’s <i>Curiosités de l’histoire de France, IIème Série</i>, + Paris, 1858.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + The apothecary’s wife heard all this talk, and thought within herself that + she had no less need of the recipe than her husband’s “commère.” + Observing, therefore, the place where her husband put the remainder of the + powder, she resolved that she would use some of it when she found an + opportunity; and this she did within three or four days. Her husband, who + felt a coldness of the stomach, begged her to make him some good soup, but + she replied that a roast with Duke’s powder would be better for him; + whereupon he bade her go quickly and prepare it, and take cinnamon and + sugar from the shop. This she did, not forgetting also to take the + remainder of the powder given to the “commère,” without any heed to dose, + weight or measure. + </p> + <p> + The husband ate the roast, and thought it very good. Before long, however, + he felt its effects, and sought to soothe them with his wife, but this he + found was impossible, for he felt all on fire, in such wise that he knew + not which way to turn. He then told his wife that she had poisoned him, + and demanded to know what she had put into the roast. She forthwith + confessed the truth, telling him that she herself required the recipe + quite as much as his “commère.” By reason of his evil plight, the poor + apothecary could belabour her only with hard words; however, he drove her + from his presence, and sent to beg the Queen of Navarre’s apothecary (3) + to come and see him. This the Queen’s apothecary did, and whilst giving + the other all the remedies proper for his cure (which in a short time was + effected) he rebuked him very sharply for his folly in counselling another + to use drugs that he was not willing to take himself, and declared that + his wife had only done her duty, inasmuch as she had desired to be loved + by her husband. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 It was from her apothecary no doubt that Queen Margaret + heard this story.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + Thus the poor man was forced to endure the results of his folly in + patience, and to own that he had been justly punished in being brought + into such derision as he had proposed for another. + </p> + <p> + “Methinks, ladies, this woman’s love was as indiscreet as it was great.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you call it loving her husband,” said Hircan, “to give him pain for + the sake of the delight that she herself looked to have?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe,” said Longarine, “she only desired to win back her husband’s + love, which she deemed to have gone far astray; and for the sake of such + happiness there is nothing that a woman will not do.” “Nevertheless,” said + Geburon, “a woman ought on no account to make her husband eat or drink + anything unless, either through her own experience or that of learned + folk, she be sure that it can do him no harm. Ignorance, however, must be + excused, and hers was worthy of excuse; for the most blinding passion is + love, and the most blinded of persons is a woman, since she has not + strength enough to conduct so weighty a matter wisely.” + </p> + <p> + “Geburon,” said Oisille, “you are departing from your own excellent custom + so as to make yourself of like mind with your fellows; but there are women + who have endured love and jealousy in patience.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Hircan, “and pleasantly too; for the most sensible are those + who take as much amusement in laughing at their husbands’ doings, as their + husbands take in secretly deceiving them. If you will make it my turn, so + that the Lady Oisille may close the day, I will tell you a story about a + wife and her husband who are known to all of us here.” + </p> + <p> + “Begin, then,” said Nomerfide; and Hircan, laughing, began thus:— + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0056" id="linkimage-0056"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/168.jpg" width="100%" alt="168.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0057" id="linkimage-0057"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/169a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="169a. The Wife Discovering Her Husband in The Hood Of Their Serving-maid " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Wife discovering her Husband in the <br /> Hood of their Serving-maid] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0058" id="linkimage-0058"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/169.jpg" width="100%" alt="169.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXIX</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>On finding her husband bolting meal in the garb of her + serving-woman, whom he was awaiting in the hope that he + would obtain from her what he desired, a certain lady showed + such good sense that she was content to laugh and make merry + at his folly</i>. +</pre> + <p> + At the castle of Odoz (1) in Bigorre, there dwelt one Charles, equerry to + the King and an Italian by birth, who had married a very virtuous and + honourable woman. After bearing him many children, she was now grown old, + whilst he also was not young. And he lived with her in all peacefulness + and affection, for although he would at times speak with his + serving-women, his excellent wife took no notice of this, but quietly + dismissed them whenever she found that they were becoming too familiar in + her house. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 The scene of this tale is laid at the castle where + Margaret died. Ste. Marthe in his <i>Oraison funèbre</i>, + pronounced at Alençon fifteen days after the Queen’s death, + formally states that she expired at Odos near Tarbes. He is + not likely to have been mistaken, so that Brantome’s + assertion that the Queen died at Audos in Beam may be + accepted as incorrect (<i>ante</i>, vol. i. p. lxxxviii.). It is + further probable that the above tale was actually written at + Odos (<i>ante</i>, vol. i. p. lxxxvi.), but the authenticity of + the incidents is very doubtful, as there is an extremely + similar story in the <i>Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles</i> (No, xvii. + <i>Le Conseiller au bluteau</i>), in which the hero of the + adventure is a “great clerk and knight who presided over the + Court of Accounts in Paris.” For subsequent imitations see + Malespini’s <i>Ducento Novelle</i> (No. xcvii.) and <i>Les Joyeuses + Adventures et Nouvelles Recreations</i> (No. xix.)—L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + One day she hired a discreet and worthy girl, telling her of her husband’s + temper and her own, and how she was wont to turn away such girls whom she + found to be wantons. This maid, wishing to continue in her mistress’s + service and esteem, resolved to remain a virtuous woman; and although her + master often spoke to her, she on her part gave no heed to his words save + that she repeated them to her mistress, and they thus both derived much + diversion from his folly. + </p> + <p> + One day the maid was in a back room bolting meal, and wearing her “sarot,” + a kind of hood which, after the fashion of that country, not only formed a + coif but covered the whole of the back and shoulders. Her master, finding + her in this trim, came and urged her very pressingly, and, although she + would not have done such a thing even to save her life, she pretended to + consent, and asked leave to go first and see whether her mistress was + engaged in some such manner that they might not be surprised together. To + this he agreed; whereupon she begged him to put her hood upon his head and + to continue bolting whilst she was away, in order that her mistress might + still hear the noise of the bolter. And this he gladly did, in the hope of + obtaining what he sought. + </p> + <p> + The maid, who was by no means inclined to melancholy, ran off to her + mistress and said to her— + </p> + <p> + “Come and see your good husband, whom I have taught to bolt in order to be + rid of him.” + </p> + <p> + The wife made all speed to behold this new serving-woman, and when she saw + her husband with the hood upon his head and the bolter in his hands, she + began to laugh so exceedingly, clapping her hands the while, that she was + scarce able to say to him— + </p> + <p> + “How much dost want a month, wench, for thy labour?” + </p> + <p> + The husband, on hearing this voice, realised that he had been deceived, + and, throwing down both what he was holding and wearing, he ran at the + girl, calling her a thousand bad names. Had his wife not set herself in + front of the maid, he would have given her wage enough for her quarter; + but at last all was settled to the content of the parties concerned, and + thenceforward they lived together without quarrelling. (2) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 The Italian Charles, equerry to the King, to whom the + leading part is assigned in Queen Margaret’s tale, may have + been Charles de San Severino, who figures among the + equerries with a salary of 200 <i>livres</i>, in the roll of the + royal household for 1522. The San Severino family, one of + the most prominent of Naples, had attached itself to the + French cause at the time of the expedition of Charles VIII., + whom several of its members followed to France. In 1522 we + find a “Monsieur de Saint-Severin” holding the office of + first <i>maître d’hôtel</i> to Francis I., and over a course of + several years his son figures among the <i>enfants + d’honneur</i>.—B. J. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “What say you, ladies, of this wife? Was she not sensible to make sport of + her husband’s sport?” + </p> + <p> + “‘Twas no sport,” said Saffredent, “for the husband who failed in his + purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe,” said Ennasuite, “that he had more delight in laughing with + his wife, than at killing himself at his age with his serving-woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, I should be sorely vexed,” said Simontault, “to be discovered so + bravely coifed.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard,” said Parlamente, “that it was not your wife’s fault that + she did not once discover you in very much the same attire in spite of all + your craft, and that since then she has known no repose.” + </p> + <p> + “Rest content with what befalls your own house,” said Simontault, “without + inquiring into what befalls mine. Nevertheless, my wife has no reason to + complain of me, and even did I act as you say, she would never have + occasion to notice it through any lack of what she might need.” + </p> + <p> + “Virtuous women,” said Longarine, “require nothing but the love of their + husbands, which alone can satisfy them. Those who seek a brutish + satisfaction will never find it where honour enjoins.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you call it brutish,” asked Geburon, “if a wife desires that her + husband should give her her due?” + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said Longarine, “that a chaste woman, whose heart is filled with + true love, is more content to be perfectly loved than to have all the + delights that the body can desire.” + </p> + <p> + “I am of your opinion,” said Dagoucin, “but my lords here will neither + hear it nor confess it. I think if mutual love cannot satisfy a woman, her + husband alone will not do so; for unless she live in the love that is + honourable for a woman, she must be tempted by the infernal lustfulness of + brutes.” + </p> + <p> + “In truth,” said Oisille, “you remind me of a lady who was both handsome + and well wedded, but who, through not living in that honourable love, + became more carnal than swine and more cruel than lions.” + </p> + <p> + “I ask you, madam,” said Simontault, “to end the day by telling us her + story.” + </p> + <p> + “That I cannot do,” said Oisille, “and for two reasons. The first is that + it is exceedingly long; and the second, that it does not belong to our own + day. It is written indeed by an author worthy of belief; but we are sworn + to relate nothing that has been written.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Parlamente; “but I believe I know the story you mean, + and it is written in such old language that methinks no one present except + ourselves has ever heard of it. It will therefore be looked upon as new.” + </p> + <p> + Upon this the whole company begged her to tell it without fear for its + length, seeing that a full hour was yet left before vespers. So, at their + request, the Lady Oisille thus began:— + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0059" id="linkimage-0059"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/174.jpg" width="100%" alt="174.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0060" id="linkimage-0060"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/175a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="175a. The Gentleman Killing Himself on The Death of his Mistress " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Gentleman Killing Himself on the Death of his Mistress] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0061" id="linkimage-0061"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/175.jpg" width="100%" alt="175.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXX</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>The Duchess of Burgundy, not content with the love that her + husband bore her, conceived so great an affection for a + young gentleman that, when looks and glances were not + sufficient to inform him of her passion, she declared it to + him in words which led to an evil ending</i>. (1) + + 1 This story is borrowed from an old <i>fabliau</i>, known under + the title of the <i>Châtelaine de Vergy</i>, which will be found + in the <i>Recueil de Barbazan</i> (vol iv.) and in Legrand + d’Aussy’s <i>Fabliaux</i> (vol iii.). Margaret calls the lady + Madame du Vergier (literally the lady of the orchard) in her + tale. Bandello imitated the same <i>fabliau</i> in his <i>Novelle</i> + (1554; part iv. nov. v.), but gave it a different ending. + Belleforest subsequently adapted it for his <i>Histoires + Tragiques</i>. Margaret’s tale may also be compared with No. + lxii. of the <i>Cento Novelle antiche</i>, p. 84 of the edition + of Florence, 1825.—L. and M. +</pre> + <p> + In the Duchy of Burgundy there was a Duke who was a very honourable and + handsome Prince. He had married a wife whose beauty pleased him so greatly + that it kept him from knowledge of her character, and he took thought only + how he might please her, whilst she made excellent show of returning his + affection. Now the Duke had in his household a gentleman filled with all + the perfection that could be sought for in a man. He was loved by all, + more especially by the Duke, who had reared him from childhood near his + own person; and, finding him possessed of such excellent qualities, the + Duke loved him exceedingly and trusted him with all such matters as one of + his years could understand. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess, who had not the heart of a virtuous woman and Princess, and + was not content with the love that her husband bore her and the good + treatment that she had at his hands, often observed this gentleman, and so + much to her liking did she find him, that she loved him beyond measure. + This she strove unceasingly to make known to him, as well by soft and + piteous glances as by sighs and passionate looks. + </p> + <p> + But the gentleman, whose inclinations had ever been to virtue alone, could + not perceive wickedness in a lady who had so little excuse for it, and so + the glances and looks of the poor wanton bore no fruit save her own + frenzied despair. This at last drove her to extremes, and forgetting that + she was a woman fit to be entreated and yet to refuse, and a Princess made + to be worshipped by such lovers and yet to hold them in scorn, she acted + with the spirit of a man transported by passion, with a view to rid + herself of the fire which she could no longer endure. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, one day when her husband was gone to the council, at which + the gentleman by reason of his youth was not present, she beckoned him to + come to her, which he did, thinking that she had some command to give him. + But leaning on his arm, like a woman wearied with repose, she brought him + to walk in a gallery, where she said to him— + </p> + <p> + “I marvel that you who are so handsome and young, and full of excellent + grace, have lived in this company, where are so many beautiful ladies, and + yet have been lover or true knight to none.” Then, looking at him as + graciously as she was able, she waited for his reply. + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” he said, “if I were worthy that your Highness should stoop to + think of me, you would have still greater reason to marvel at seeing a man + so little worthy of love as I am, offer his service where it would be + rejected or scorned.” + </p> + <p> + On hearing this discreet reply, the Duchess felt she loved him more than + before. She vowed to him that there was not a lady at her Court who would + not be only too happy to have such a knight, and that he might well make + an adventure of the sort, since there was no danger but he would come out + of it with honour. The gentleman kept his eyes downcast, not daring to + meet her looks, which were hot enough to melt ice; but, just as he was + trying to excuse himself, the Duke sent for the Duchess to come to the + council on some matter that concerned her, and thither with much regret + she went. The gentleman never afterwards made the slightest sign of having + understood a word of what she had said to him, at which she was + exceedingly distressed and vexed; and she knew not to what cause to impute + her failure, unless it were to the foolish fear of which she deemed the + gentleman to be possessed. + </p> + <p> + A few days afterwards, finding that he gave no sign of understanding what + she had said, she resolved on her part to set aside all fear or shame, and + to tell him of her love. She felt sure that beauty such as hers could not + be otherwise than well received, although she would fain have had the + honour of being wooed. However, she set her honour on one side for her + pleasure’s sake, and after she had several times attempted the same + fashion of discourse as at first, but without receiving any reply to her + liking, she one day plucked the gentleman by the sleeve, and told him that + she must speak to him on certain matters of weight. The gentleman went + with the humility and reverence that were her due to a deep window into + which she had withdrawn; and, on perceiving that no one in the room could + see her, she began in a trembling voice, that halted between desire and + fear, to continue her former discourse, rebuking him for not yet having + chosen some lady in the company, and promising him that, no matter who it + might be, she would help him to win kindly treatment. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, who was no less vexed than astonished by her words, replied— + </p> + <p> + “Madam, my heart is so tender, that, were I once refused, I should never + again have joy in this world; and I know myself to be of such little worth + that no lady at this Court would deign to accept my suit.” + </p> + <p> + The Duchess blushed, and, imagining that at last he was indeed won, vowed + to him that she knew the most beautiful lady in the company would, if he + were willing, joyfully receive him, and afford him perfect happiness. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! madam,” he replied, “I do not think that there is any woman in this + company so unfortunate and so blind as to find me worthy of her love.” + </p> + <p> + The Duchess, finding that he would not understand her, drew the veil of + her passion somewhat aside, and, by reason of the fears which the + gentleman’s virtue caused her, spoke to him in the form of a question. + </p> + <p> + “If fortune,” she said, “had so far favoured you that it was myself who + bore you this goodwill, what would you say?” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, who thought that he was dreaming when he heard her speak in + this wise, dropped on his knee, and replied— + </p> + <p> + “Madam, when God by His favour enables me to have both the favour of the + Duke, my master, and your own, I shall deem myself the happiest man alive; + for ‘tis the reward I crave for the loyal service of one who, more than + any other, is bound to give his life in the service of you both. And I am + sure, madam, that the love you bear my Lord aforesaid is attended with + such chastity and nobleness that, apart from myself, who am but a worm of + the earth, not even the greatest Prince and most perfect man to be found + could break the union that exists between you. For my own part, my Lord + has brought me up from childhood, and made me what I am, and to save my + life I could not entertain towards any wife, daughter, sister or mother of + his any thought contrary to what is due from a loyal and faithful + servant.” + </p> + <p> + The Duchess would not allow him to continue, but finding that she was in + danger of obtaining a dishonourable refusal, she suddenly interrupted him, + and said— + </p> + <p> + “Wicked and boastful fool, who seeks any such thing from you? Do you think + that your good looks win you the love of the very flies in the air? Nay, + if you were presumptuous enough to address yourself to me, I would show + you that I love, and seek to love, none but my husband. What I have said + to you was spoken only for my amusement, to try you and laugh at you, as I + do at all foolish lovers.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said the gentleman, “I believed, and do still believe, that it is + as you say.” + </p> + <p> + Then, without listening further, she withdrew in haste to her own + apartment, and, finding that she was followed by her ladies, went into her + closet, where she sorrowed after a fashion that cannot be described. On + the one part, the love wherein she had failed caused her mortal sadness; + on the other, her anger, both against herself for having entered upon such + foolish talk and against the gentleman for his discreet reply, drove her + into such fury that at one moment she wished to make away with herself, + and at another, to live that she might avenge herself on one whom she now + regarded as her deadly enemy. + </p> + <p> + When she had wept for a long while, she made pretence of being ill, in + order that she might not be present at the Duke’s supper, at which the + gentleman was commonly in waiting. The Duke, who loved his wife better + than he did himself, came to see her; but the more effectually to work her + end, she told him that she believed herself to be with child, and that her + pregnancy had caused a rheum to come upon her eyes, which gave her much + pain. So passed two or three days, during which the Duchess kept her bed + in sadness and melancholy, until at last the Duke thought that something + further must be the matter. He therefore came at night to sleep with her; + but, finding that for all he could do he could in no sort check her sighs, + he said to her— + </p> + <p> + “You know, sweetheart, that I love you as dearly as my life, and that if + yours were lacking I could not endure my own. If therefore you would + preserve my health, I pray you tell me what causes you to sigh after this + manner; for I cannot believe that such unhappiness can come only because + you are with child.” + </p> + <p> + The Duchess, finding that her husband was disposed to her just as she + could have wished him to be, thought that the time was come to seek + vengeance for her affliction; and embracing the Duke, she began to weep, + and said— + </p> + <p> + “Alas, my lord, my greatest unhappiness is to see you deceived by those on + whom is so deep an obligation to guard your substance and your honour.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke, on hearing this, was very desirous of knowing why she spoke in + that manner, and earnestly begged her to make the truth known to him + without fear. After refusing several times, she said— + </p> + <p> + “I shall never wonder, my lord, that foreigners make war on Princes, when + those who are in duty most bound to them, wage upon them a war so cruel + that loss of territory were nothing in comparison. I say this, my lord, in + reference to a certain gentleman” (naming her enemy) “who, though reared + by your own hand and treated more like a son than a servant, has made a + cruel and base attempt to ruin the honour of your wife, in which is also + bound up the honour of your house and your children. Although for a long + time he showed me such looks as pointed to his wicked purpose, yet my + heart, which only cares for you, understood nothing of them; and so at + last he declared himself in words to which I returned a reply such as + beseemed my condition and my chastity. Nevertheless, I now so hate him + that I cannot endure to look at him, and for this cause I have continued + in my own apartment and lost the happiness of fellowship with you. I + entreat you, my lord, keep not this pestilence near your person; for, + after such a crime, he might fear lest I should tell you of it, and so + attempt worse. This, my lord, is the cause of my sorrow, and methinks it + were right and fitting that you should deal with it forthwith.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke, who on the one hand loved his wife and felt himself grievously + affronted, and on the other loved his servant, whose faithfulness he had + so fully tried that he could scarce believe this falsehood against him, + was in great distress and filled with anger. Repairing to his own room, he + sent word to the gentleman to come no more into his presence, but to + withdraw to his lodging for a time. The gentleman, being ignorant of the + cause of this, was grieved exceedingly, for he knew that he had deserved + the opposite of such unworthy treatment. Aware, then, of his own innocence + in heart and deed, he sent a comrade to speak to the Duke and take him a + letter, humbly entreating that if any evil report had caused his + banishment, his master would be pleased to suspend judgment until he had + heard from himself the truth of the matter, when it would be found that he + had been guilty of no offence. + </p> + <p> + When the Duke saw this letter, his anger was somewhat abated. He secretly + sent for the gentleman to his own room, and with wrathful countenance said— + </p> + <p> + “I could never have thought that the care I took to rear you as my own + child would be changed into regret at having so highly advanced you; but + you have attempted what was more hurtful to me than loss of life or + substance, and have sought to assail the honour of one who is half myself, + and so bring infamy on my house and name. You may be assured that this + outrage is so wounding to my heart that, were it not for my doubt whether + it be true or not, you would have already been at the bottom of the water, + and so have received in secret due punishment for the wrong that in secret + you intended against me.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman was in no wise dismayed by this discourse, but, ignorant as + he was of the truth, spoke forth with confidence and entreated the Duke to + name his accuser, since such a charge should be justified rather with the + lance than with the tongue. + </p> + <p> + “Your accuser,” said the Duke, “carries no weapon but chastity. Know, + then, that none other but my wife has told me this, and she begged me to + take vengeance upon you.” + </p> + <p> + The poor gentleman, though he then perceived the lady’s great wickedness, + would not accuse her. + </p> + <p> + “My lord,” he replied, “my lady may say what she will. You know her better + than I do, and you are aware if ever I saw her when out of your sight, + save only on one occasion, when she spoke but little with me. You have, + moreover, as sound a judgment as any Prince alive; wherefore I pray you, + my lord, judge whether you have ever seen aught in me to cause any + suspicion; and remember love is a fire that cannot be hidden so as never + to be known of by those who have had a like distemper. So I pray you, my + lord, to believe two things of me: first, that my loyalty to you is such + that were my lady, your wife, the fairest being in the world, love would + never avail to make me stain my honour and fidelity; and secondly, that + even were she not your wife, I should be least in love with her of all the + women I have ever known, since there are many others to whom I would + sooner plight my troth.” + </p> + <p> + On hearing these words of truth, the Duke began to be softened, and said— + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, on my part, that I did not believe it. Do, therefore, + according to your wont, in the assurance that, if I find the truth to be + on your side, I will love you yet better than before. But if it be not so, + your life is in my hands.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman thanked him and offered to submit to any pain or penalty if + he were found guilty. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess, on seeing the gentleman again in waiting as had formerly been + his wont, could not endure it in patience, but said to her husband— + </p> + <p> + “‘Twould be no more than you deserve, my lord, if you were poisoned, since + you put more trust in your deadly enemies than in your friends.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, sweetheart, do not torment yourself in this matter,” said the + Duke. “If I find that you have told me true, I promise you he shall not + live four and twenty hours. But he has sworn to the contrary, and I have + myself never perceived any such fault, and so I cannot believe it without + complete proof.” + </p> + <p> + “In good sooth, my lord,” she replied, “your goodness renders his + wickedness the greater. What more complete proof would you have than this, + that no love affair has ever been imputed to him? Believe me, my lord, + were it not for the lofty purpose that he took into his head of being my + lover, he would not have continued so long without a mistress; for never + did a young man live solitary as he does in such good company, unless he + had fixed his heart so high as to be content merely with his own vain + hope. Since, then, you think that he is not hiding the truth from you, put + him, I beg you, on oath as regards his love. If he loves another, I am + content that you should believe him, and if not, you will know that what I + say is true.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke thought his wife’s reasonings very good, and, taking the + gentleman into the country with him, said— + </p> + <p> + “My wife continues still of the same mind, and has set before me an + argument that causes me grave suspicion against you. It is deemed strange + that you who are so gallant and young have never been known to love, and + this makes me think that you have such affection for her as she says, and + that the hope it gives you renders you content to think of no other woman. + As a friend, therefore, I pray you, and as a master I command you to tell + me whether you are in love with any lady on earth.” + </p> + <p> + Although the gentleman would have fain concealed his passion yet as he + loved his life, he was obliged, on seeing his master’s jealousy, to swear + to him that he did indeed love one whose beauty was so great, that the + beauty of the Duchess or of any lady of the Court would be simply ugliness + beside it. But he entreated that he might never be compelled to name her, + since the agreement between himself and his sweetheart was of such a + nature that it could not be broken excepting by whichever of them should + be the first to make it known. + </p> + <p> + The Duke promised not to urge him, and being quite satisfied with him, + treated him with more kindness than ever before. The Duchess perceived + this, and set herself with her wonted craft to find out the reason. The + Duke did not hide it from her; whereupon strong jealousy sprang up beside + her desire for vengeance, and she begged her husband to command the + gentleman to name his sweetheart. She assured him that the story was a + lie, and that the course she urged was the best means of testing it. If + the gentleman, said she, did not name her whom he deemed so beautiful, and + his master believed him on his mere word, he would indeed be the most + foolish Prince alive. + </p> + <p> + The poor Duke, whose wife directed his thoughts at her pleasure, went to + walk alone with the gentleman, and told him that he was in even greater + trouble than before; for he was greatly minded to believe that he had been + given an excuse to keep him from suspecting the truth. This was a greater + torment to him than ever; and he therefore begged the gentleman, as + earnestly as he was able, to name her whom he loved so dearly. The poor + gentleman entreated that he might not be made to commit so great an + offence against his mistress as to break the promise he had given her and + had kept so long, and thus lose in a day all that he had preserved for + seven years. And he added that he would rather suffer death than in this + wise wrong one who had been true to him. + </p> + <p> + The Duke, finding that he would not tell him, became deeply jealous, and + with a wrathful countenance exclaimed— + </p> + <p> + “Well, choose one of two things: either tell me whom you love more than + any other, or else go into banishment from the territories over which I + rule, under pain of a cruel death if you be found within them after a week + is over.” + </p> + <p> + If ever heart of loyal servant was torn with anguish, it was so with that + of this poor gentleman, who might well have said, <i>Angustiæ sunt mihi + undique</i>, for on the one part he saw that by telling the truth he would + lose his mistress, if she learned that he had failed in his promise to + her; while, if he did not confess it, he would be banished from the land + in which she dwelt, and be no more able to see her. Hard pressed in this + manner on all sides, there came upon him a cold sweat, as on one whose + sorrow was bringing him near to death. The Duke, observing his looks, + concluded that he loved no other lady than the Duchess, and was enduring + this suffering because he was able to name none other. He therefore said + to him with considerable harshness— + </p> + <p> + “If what you say were true, you would not have so much trouble in telling + me; but methinks ‘tis your crime that is tormenting you.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, piqued by these words, and impelled by the love that he + bore his master, resolved to tell him the truth, believing that he was too + honourable a man ever, on any account, to reveal it. Accordingly, throwing + himself upon his knees, and clasping his hands, he said— + </p> + <p> + “My lord, the duty that I owe to you and the love that I bear you + constrain me more than the fear of any death. I can see that you imagine + and judge falsely concerning me, and, to take this trouble from you, I am + resolved to do that to which no torment had compelled me. But I pray you, + my lord, swear to me by the honour of God, and promise me by your own + faith as a Prince and a Christian, that you will never reveal the secret + which, since it so pleases you, I am obliged to tell.” + </p> + <p> + Upon this the Duke swore to him with all the oaths he could think of that + he would never reveal aught of it to any living being, whether by speech, + or writing, or feature. Then the young man, feeling confidence in so + virtuous a Prince as he knew his master to be, began the building up of + his misfortune, and said— + </p> + <p> + “It is now seven years, my lord, since knowing your niece, the Lady du + Vergier, to be a widow and without kindred, I set myself to win her + favour. But, since I was of too lowly a birth to wed her, I contented + myself with being received by her as her true knight, as indeed I have + been. And it has pleased God that the affair has hitherto been contrived + with much discretion, so that neither man nor woman knows of it save + ourselves alone, and now, my lord, you also. I place my life and honour in + your hands, entreating you to keep the matter secret and to esteem your + niece none the less; for I think that under heaven there is no more + perfect being.” + </p> + <p> + If ever man was rejoiced it was the Duke, for, knowing as he did the + exceeding beauty of his niece, he now had no doubt that she was more + pleasing than his wife. However, being unable to understand how so great a + mystery could have been contrived, he begged the gentleman to tell him how + it was that he was able to see her. The gentleman related to him then that + his lady’s chamber looked upon a garden, and that, on the days when he was + to visit her, a little gate was left open through which he went in on foot + until he heard the barking of a little dog which the lady used to loose in + the garden when all her women were withdrawn. Then he went and conversed + with her all night long, and, in parting from her, would appoint a day on + which he would return; and this appointment, unless for some weighty + reason, he never failed to keep. The Duke, who was the most inquisitive + man alive, and who had made love in no small degree in his day, wished + both to satisfy his suspicions and to fully understand so strange a + business; and he therefore begged the gentleman to take him, not as a + master but as a companion, the next time he went thither. To this the + gentleman, having gone so far already, consented, saying that he had an + appointment for that very day; at which the Duke was as glad as if he had + gained a kingdom. Making pretence of retiring to rest in his closet, he + caused two horses to be brought for himself and the gentleman, and they + travelled all night long from Argilly, where the Duke lived, to Le + Vergier. (2) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 At Argilly the Dukes of Burgundy had a castle, which was + destroyed during the religious wars at the close of the + sixteenth century. The place is now a small village in the + arrondissement of Nuits, Côte d’Or. As the crow flies, it is + some ten miles distant from the ruins of the castle of + Vergy, which stands on a steep height, at an altitude of + over 1600 ft., within five miles from Nuits. The castle, + which can only be reached on one side of the hill, by a + narrow, winding and precipitous pathway, is known to have + been in existence already in the tenth century, when the + Lords of Vergy were Counts of Chalons, Beaune, and Nuits. + They appear to have engaged in a struggle for supremacy with + the princes of the first Ducal house of Burgundy, but in + 1193 Alix de Vergy espoused Duke Eudes III., to whom she + brought, as dower, the greater part of the paternal + inheritance. The castle of Vergy was dismantled by Henry + IV., and the existing ruins are of small extent. Some + antiquaries believe the fortress to have been originally + built by the Romans.—B.J. and L. +</pre> + <p> + Then they left their horses without the wall, and the gentleman brought + the Duke into the garden through the little gate, begging him to remain + behind a walnut-tree, whence he might see whether he had been told the + truth or not. + </p> + <p> + They had been but a short time in the garden when the little dog began to + bark, and the gentleman walked towards the tower, where his lady failed + not to come and meet him. She kissed him, saying that it seemed a thousand + years since she had seen him, and then they went into the chamber and shut + the door behind them. + </p> + <p> + Having seen the whole of the mystery, the Duke felt more than satisfied. + Nor had he a great while to wait, for the gentleman told his mistress that + he must needs return sooner than was his wont, since the Duke was to go + hunting at four o’clock, and he durst not fail to attend him. + </p> + <p> + The lady, who set honour before delight, would not keep him from + fulfilling his duty; for what she prized most in their honourable + affection was that it was kept secret from all. + </p> + <p> + So the gentleman departed an hour after midnight, and his lady in cloak + and kerchief went with him, yet not so far as she wished, for, fearing + lest she should meet the Duke, he obliged her to return. Then he mounted + with the Duke and returned to the castle of Argilly, his master + unceasingly swearing to him on the way that he would die rather than ever + reveal his secret. Moreover, he then put so much trust in the gentleman, + and had so much love for him, that no one in his Court stood higher in his + favour. The Duchess grew furious at this, but the Duke forbade her ever to + speak to him about the gentleman again, saying that he now knew the truth + about him and was well pleased, since the lady in question was more worthy + of love than herself. These words deeply pierced the heart of the Duchess, + and she fell into a sickness that was worse than fever. + </p> + <p> + The Duke went to see her in order to comfort her, but there was no means + of doing this except by telling her the name of this beautiful and dearly + loved lady. She pressed him urgently to do this, until at last the Duke + went out of the room, saying— + </p> + <p> + “If you speak to me again after this fashion, we shall part one from the + other.” + </p> + <p> + These words increased the sickness of the Duchess, and she pretended that + she felt her infant stirring, at which the Duke was so rejoiced that he + came and lay beside her. But, just when she saw him most loving towards + her, she turned away, and said— + </p> + <p> + “I pray you, my lord, since you have no love for either wife or child, + leave us to die together.” + </p> + <p> + With these words she gave vent to many tears and lamentations, and the + Duke was in great fear lest she should lose her child. He therefore took + her in his arms and begged her to tell him what she would have, since he + possessed nothing that was not also hers. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my lord,” she replied, weeping, “what hope can I have that you would + do a hard thing for me, when you will not do the easiest and most + reasonable in the world, which is to name to me the mistress of the + wickedest servant you ever had? I thought that you and I had but one + heart, one soul, and one flesh. But now I see that you look upon me as a + stranger, seeing that your secrets, which should be known to me, are + hidden from me as though I were a stranger. Alas! my lord, you have told + me many weighty and secret matters, of which you have never known me to + speak, you have proved my will to be like to your own, and you cannot + doubt but that I am less myself than you. And if you have sworn never to + tell the gentleman’s secret to another, you will not break your oath in + telling it to me, for I am not and cannot be other than yourself. I have + you in my heart, I hold you in my arms, I have in my womb a child in whom + you live, and yet I may not have your heart as you have mine. The more + faithful and true I am to you, the more cruel and stern are you to me, so + that a thousand times a day do I long by a sudden death to rid my child of + such a father and myself of such a husband. And I hope that this will be + ere long, since you set a faithless servant before a wife such as 1 am to + you, and before the life of the mother of your child, which will perish + because I cannot have of you that which I most desire to know.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, she embraced and kissed her husband, and watered his face with + her tears, uttering the while such lamentations and sighs that the good + Prince feared to lose wife and child together, and resolved to tell her + all the truth of the matter. Nevertheless, he first swore to her that if + ever she revealed it to a living being she should die by his own hand; and + she agreed to and accepted this punishment. Then the poor, deceived + husband told her all that he had seen from beginning to end, and she made + show of being well pleased. In her heart she was minded very differently, + but through fear of the Duke she concealed her passion as well as she was + able. + </p> + <p> + Now on a certain great feast-day the Duke held his Court, to which he had + bidden all the ladies of that country, and among the rest his niece. When + the dances began, all did their duty save the Duchess, who, tormented by + the sight of her niece’s beauty and grace, could neither make merry nor + prevent her spleen from being perceived. At last she called all the + ladies, and making them scat themselves around her, began to talk of love; + and seeing that the Lady du Vergier said nothing, she asked her, with a + heart which jealousy was rending— + </p> + <p> + “And you, fair niece, is it possible that your beauty has found no lover + or true knight?” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” replied the Lady du Vergier, “my beauty has not yet made such a + conquest. Since my husband’s death I have sought to love none but his + children, with whom I deem myself happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Fair niece, fair niece,” replied the Duchess, with hateful spleen, “there + is no love so secret that it is not known, and no little dog so well + broken in and trained that it cannot be heard to bark.” + </p> + <p> + I leave you to imagine, ladies, what sorrow the poor Lady du Vergier felt + in her heart on finding a matter, so long concealed, thus made known to + her great dishonour. Her honour, which had been so carefully guarded and + was now wofully lost, tortured her, but still more so her suspicion that + her lover had failed in his promise to her. This she did not think he + could have done, unless it were that he loved some lady fairer than + herself, to whom his love had constrained him to make the whole matter + known. Yet so great was her discretion that she gave no sign, but replied + laughing to the Duchess that she did not understand the language of + animals. However, beneath this prudent concealment her heart was filled + with sadness, so that she rose up, and, passing out of the chamber, + entered a closet in sight of the Duke, who was walking up and down. + </p> + <p> + Having thus reached a place where she believed herself to be alone, the + poor lady let herself fall helplessly upon a bed, whereat a damsel, who + had sat down beside it to sleep, rose up and drew back the curtains to see + who this might be. Finding that it was the Lady du Vergier, who believed + herself to be alone, she durst say nothing to her, but listened, making as + little noise as she was able. And in a stifled voice the poor Lady du + Vergier began to lament, saying— + </p> + <p> + “O unhappy one, what words have I heard? to what decree of death have I + hearkened? what final sentence have I received? O best beloved of men, is + this the reward of my chaste, honourable and virtuous love? O my heart, + hast thou made so parlous an election, and chosen for the most loyal the + most faithless, for the truest the most false, for the discreetest the + most slanderous? Alas! can it be that a thing hidden from every human eye + has been revealed to the Duchess? Alas, my little dog, so well taught and + the sole instrument of my love and virtuous affection, it was not you who + betrayed me, it was he whose voice is louder than a dog’s bark, and whose + heart is more thankless than any brute’s. Tis he who, contrary to his oath + and promise, has made known the happy life which, wronging none, we so + long have led together. O my beloved, the love of whom alone has entered + into my heart, and preserved my life, must you now be declared my deadly + foe, while mine honour is given to the winds, my body to the dust, and my + soul to its everlasting abode? Is the beauty of the Duchess so exceeding + great that, like the beauty of Circe, it has bewitched and transformed + you? Has she turned you from virtue to vice, from goodness to wickedness, + from being a man to be a beast of prey? O my beloved, though you have + failed in your promise to me, yet will I keep mine to you, and, now that + our love has been revealed, will never see you more. Nevertheless, I + cannot live without your presence, and so I gladly yield to my exceeding + sorrow, and will seek for it no cure either in reason or in medicine. + Death alone shall end it, and death will be sweeter to me than life on + earth without lover, honour or happiness. Neither war nor death has robbed + me of my lover; no sin or fault of mine has robbed me of my honour; + neither error nor demerit of mine has made me lose my joy. ‘Tis cruel fate + that has rendered the most favoured of men thankless, and has caused me to + receive the contrary of that which I deserved. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my Lady Duchess, what delight it was to you to taunt me with my + little dog! Rejoice, then, in the happiness you owe to me alone; taunt her + who thought by careful concealment and virtuous love to be free from any + taunt. Ah! how those words have bruised my heart! how they have made me + blush for shame and pale for jealousy! Alas, my heart, I feel that thou + art indeed undone! The wicked love that has discovered me burns thee; + jealousy of thee and evil intent towards thee are to thee as ice and + death; while wrath and sorrow do not suffer me to comfort thee. Alas, poor + soul, that in adoring the creature didst forget the Creator, thou must + return into the hands of Him from whom vain love tore thee away. Have + trust, my soul, that thou wilt find in Him a Father kinder than was the + lover for whose sake thou hast so often forgotten Him. O my God, my + Creator, Thou who art the true and perfect love, by whose grace the love I + bore to my beloved has been stained by no blemish save that of too great + an affection, I implore Thee in mercy to receive the soul-and spirit of + one who repents that she has broken thy first and most just commandment. + And, through the merits of Him whose love passeth all understanding, + forgive the error into which excess of love has led me, for in Thee alone + do I put my perfect trust. And farewell, O my beloved, whose empty name + doth break my very heart.” + </p> + <p> + With these words she fell backward, and her face grew pallid, her lips + blue, and her extremities cold. + </p> + <p> + Just at this moment the gentleman she loved came into the hall, and, + seeing the Duchess dancing with the ladies, looked everywhere for his + sweetheart. Not finding her, he went into the chamber of the Duchess, and + there found the Duke, who was walking up and down, and who, guessing his + purpose, whispered in his ear— + </p> + <p> + “She went into that closet, and methought she was ill.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman asked whether he would be pleased to let him go in, and the + Duke begged him to do so. When he entered the closet he found the Lady du + Vergier, come to the last stage of her mortal life; whereat, throwing his + arms about her, he said— + </p> + <p> + “What is this, sweetheart? Would you leave me?” + </p> + <p> + The poor lady, hearing the voice that she knew so well, recovered a little + strength and opened her eyes to look upon him who was the cause of her + death; but at this look her love and anguish waxed so great that, with a + piteous sigh, she yielded up her soul to God. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman, more dead than the dead woman herself, asked the damsel who + was there how this sickness had come upon his sweetheart, and she told him + all the words that she had heard. Then the gentleman knew that the Duke + had revealed the secret to his wife, and felt such frenzy that, whilst + embracing his sweetheart’s body, he for a long time watered it with his + tears, saying— + </p> + <p> + “O traitorous, wicked and unhappy lover that I am! why has not the + punishment of my treachery fallen upon me, and not upon her who is + innocent? Why was I not struck by a bolt from heaven on the day when my + tongue revealed the secret and virtuous love between us? Why did not the + earth open to swallow up this traitor to his troth? O tongue, mayest thou + be punished as was the tongue of the wicked rich man in hell! + </p> + <p> + “O heart, too fearful of death and banishment, mayest thou be torn + continually by eagles as was the heart of Ixion! (3) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 Queen Margaret’s memory plainly failed her here.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + “Alas, sweetheart, the greatest of all the greatest woes has fallen upon + me! I thought to keep you, but I have lost you; I thought to see you for a + long time and to abide with you in sweet and honourable content, yet now I + embrace your dead body, and you passed away in sore displeasure with me, + with my heart and with my tongue. O most loyal and faithful of women, I do + confess myself the most disloyal, fickle and faithless of all men. Gladly + would I complain of the Duke in whose promise I trusted, hoping thus to + continue our happy life; but alas! I should have known that none could + keep our secret better than I kept it myself. The Duke had more reason in + telling his secret to his wife than I in telling mine to him. I accuse + none but myself of the greatest wickedness that was ever done between + lovers. I ought to have submitted to be cast into the moat as he + threatened to do with me; at least, sweetheart, you would then have lived + in widowhood and I have died a glorious death in observing the law that + true love enjoins. But through breaking it I am now in life, and you, + through perfectness of love, are dead; for your pure, clear heart could + not bear to know the wickedness of your lover. + </p> + <p> + “O my God! why didst Thou endow me with so light a love and so ignorant a + heart? Why didst thou not create me as the little dog that faithfully + served his mistress? Alas, my little friend, the joy your bark was wont to + give me is turned to deadly sorrow, now that another than we twain has + heard your voice. Yet, sweetheart, neither the love of the Duchess nor of + any living woman turned me aside, though indeed that wicked one did often + ask and entreat me. ‘Twas by my ignorance, which thought to secure our + love for ever, that I was overcome. Yet for that ignorance am I none the + less guilty; for I revealed my sweetheart’s secret and broke my promise to + her, and for this cause alone do I see her lying dead before my eyes. + Alas, sweetheart, death will to me be less cruel than to you, whose love + has ended your innocent life. Methinks it would not deign to touch my + faithless and miserable heart; for life with dishonour and the memory of + that which I have lost through guilt would be harder to bear than ten + thousand deaths. Alas, sweetheart, had any dared to slay you through + mischance or malice, I should quickly have clapped hand to sword to avenge + you; ‘tis therefore right that I should not pardon the murderer who has + caused your death by a more wicked act than any sword-thrust. Did I know a + viler executioner than myself, I would entreat him to put your traitorous + lover to death. O Love! I have offended thee from not having known how to + love, and therefore thou wilt not succour me as thou didst succour her who + kept all thy laws. ‘Tis not right that I should die after so honourable a + manner; but ‘tis well that I should die by mine own hand. I have washed + your face, sweet, with my tears, and with my tongue have craved your + forgiveness; and now it only remains for my hand to make my body like unto + yours, and send my soul whither yours will go, in the knowledge that a + virtuous and honourable love can never end, whether in this world or in + the next.” + </p> + <p> + Rising up from the body he then, like a frenzied man beside himself, drew + his dagger and with great violence stabbed himself to the heart. Then he + again took his sweetheart in his arms, kissing her with such passion that + it seemed as though he were seized rather with love than with death. + </p> + <p> + The damsel, seeing him deal himself the blow, ran to the door and called + for help. The Duke, on hearing the outcry, suspected misfortune to those + he loved, and was the first to enter the closet, where he beheld the + piteous pair. He sought to separate them, and, if it were possible, to + save the gentleman; but the latter clasped his sweetheart so fast that he + could not be taken from her until he was dead. Nevertheless he heard the + Duke speaking to him and saying—“Alas! what is the cause of this?” + To which, with a glance of fury, he replied—“My tongue, my lord, and + yours.” So saying, he died, with his face close pressed to that of his + mistress. + </p> + <p> + The Duke, wishing to know more of the matter, made the damsel tell him + what she had seen and heard; and this she did at full length, sparing + nothing. Then the Duke, finding that he was himself the cause of all this + woe, threw himself upon the two dead lovers, and, with great lamentation + and weeping, kissed both of them several times and asked their + forgiveness. And after that he rose up in fury, and drew the dagger from + the gentleman’s body; and, just as a wild boar, wounded with a spear, + rushes headlong against him that has dealt the blow, so did the Duke now + seek out her who had wounded him to the bottom of his soul. He found her + dancing in the hall, and more merry than was her wont at the thought of + the excellent vengeance she had wreaked on the Lady du Vergier. + </p> + <p> + The Duke came upon her in the midst of the dance, and said— + </p> + <p> + “You took the secret upon your life, and upon your life shall fall the + punishment.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he seized her by the head-dress and stabbed her with the dagger + in the breast. All the company were astonished, and it was thought that + the Duke was out of his mind; but, having thus worked his will, he brought + all his retainers together in the hall and told them the virtuous and + pitiful story of his niece, and the evil that his wife had wrought her. + And those who were present wept whilst they listened. + </p> + <p> + Then the Duke ordered that his wife should be buried in an abbey which he + founded partly to atone for the sin that he had committed in killing her; + and he caused a beautiful tomb to be built, in which the bodies of his + niece and the gentleman were laid together, with an epitaph setting forth + their tragic story. And the Duke undertook an expedition against the + Turks, in which God so favoured him, that he brought back both honour and + profit. On his return, he found his eldest son now able to govern his + possessions, and so left all to him, and went and became a monk in the + abbey where his wife and the two lovers were buried. And there did he + spend his old age happily with God. + </p> + <p> + “Such, ladies, is the story which you begged me to relate, and which, as I + can see from your eyes, you have not heard without compassion. It seems to + me that you should take example by it, and beware of placing your + affections upon men; for, however honourable or virtuous these affections + may be, in the end they have always an aftertaste of evil. You see how St. + Paul would not that even married people should so deeply love each other; + (4) for the more our hearts are set upon earthly things, the more remote + are they from heavenly affection, and the harder is the tie to be broken. + I therefore pray you, ladies, ask God for His Holy Spirit, who will so + fire your hearts with the love of God, that when death comes, you will not + be pained at leaving that which you love too well in this world.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 4 I <i>Corinthians</i> vii. 32-5.—M. +</pre> + <p> + “If their love,” said Geburon, “was as honourable as you describe, why was + it needful to keep it so secret?” + </p> + <p> + “Because,” said Parlamente, “the wickedness of men is so great, that they + can never believe deep love to be allied with honour, but judge men and + women to be wicked according to their own passions. Hence, if a woman has + a dear friend other than one of her nearest kinsfolk, she must speak with + him in secret if she would speak long with him; for a woman’s honour is + attacked, whether she love virtuously or viciously, since people judge + only from appearances.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Geburon, “when a secret of that kind is revealed, people think + far worse of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I grant you that,” said Longarine; “and so it is best not to love at + all.” + </p> + <p> + “We appeal from that sentence,” said Dagoucin, “for, did we believe the + ladies to be without love, we would fain be ourselves without life. I + speak of those who live but to win love: and, even if they secure it not, + yet the hope of it sustains them and prompts them to do a thousand + honourable deeds, until old age changes their fair sufferings to other + pains. But, did we think that ladies were without love, it were needful we + should turn traders instead of soldiers, and instead of winning fame, + think only of hea’ping up riches.” + </p> + <p> + “You would say, then,” said Hircan, “that, were there no women, we should + all be dastards, as though we had no courage save such as they put into + us. But I am of quite the opposite opinion, and hold that nothing weakens + a man’s courage so much as to consort with women or love them too much. + For this reason the Jews would not suffer a man to go to the war within a + year after his marriage, lest love for his wife should draw him back from + the dangers that he ought to seek.” (5) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 5 See <i>Deuteronomy</i> xx. 5, 6, 7; and the comments thereon + of Rabelais (book iii. ch. vi.).—M. +</pre> + <p> + “I consider that law,” said Saffredent, “to have been without reason, for + nothing will more readily make a man leave his home than marriage. The war + without is not harder of endurance than the war within; and I think that, + to make men desirous of going into foreign lands instead of lingering by + their hearths, it were only needful to marry them.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” said Ennasuite, “that marriage takes from them the care of + their houses; for they trust in their wives, and for their own part think + only of winning fame, feeling certain that their wives will give due heed + to the profit.” + </p> + <p> + “However that may be,” replied Saffredent, “I am glad that you are of my + opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Parlamente, “you are not discussing what is chiefly to be + considered, and that is why the gentleman, who was the cause of all the + misfortune, did not as quickly die of grief as she who was innocent.” + </p> + <p> + Nomerfide replied— + </p> + <p> + “‘Twas because women love more truly than men.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said Simontault, “‘twas because the jealousy and spitefulness of + women make them die without knowing the reason, whereas men are led by + their prudence to inquire into the truth of the matter. When this has been + learnt through their sound sense, they display their courage, as this + gentleman did; for, as soon as he understood the reason of his + sweetheart’s misfortune, he showed how truly he loved her and did not + spare his own life.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet,” said Ennasuite, “she died of true love, for her steadfast and loyal + heart could not endure to be so deceived.” + </p> + <p> + “It was her jealousy,” said Simontault, “which would not yield to reason, + so that she believed evil of her lover of which he was not guilty at all. + Moreover, her death was matter of necessity, for she could not prevent it, + whilst her lover’s death was voluntary, after he had recognised his own + wrongdoing.” + </p> + <p> + “Still,” said Nomerfide, “the love must needs be great that causes such + deep sorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Have no fear of it,” said Hircan, “for you will never die of that kind of + fever.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor,” said Nomerfide, “will you ever kill yourself after recognising your + error.” + </p> + <p> + Here Parlamente, who suspected that the dispute was being carried on at + her own expense, said, laughing— + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis enough that two persons should have died of love, without two others + fighting for the same cause. And there is the last bell sounding for + vespers, which will have us gone whether you be willing or not.” + </p> + <p> + By her advice the whole company then rose and went to hear vespers, not + forgetting in their fervent prayers the souls of those true lovers, for + whom, also, the monks, of their charity, said a <i>De profundis</i>. As + long as supper lasted there was no talk save of the Lady du Vergier, and + then, when they had spent a little time together, they withdrew to their + several apartments, and so brought to an end the Seventh Day. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0062" id="linkimage-0062"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/213.jpg" width="100%" alt="213.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + EIGHTH DAY. + </h2> + <p> + <i>On the Eighth Day relation is made<br /> of the greatest yet truest<br /> + folliesthat each<br /> can remember</i>. <a name="link2H_PROL8" + id="link2H_PROL8"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PROLOGUE. + </h2> + <p> + When morning was come they inquired whether their bridge (1) were being + well advanced, and found that it might be finished in two or three days. + These were not welcome tidings to some among the company, for they would + gladly have had the work last a longer time, so as to prolong the + happiness that they enjoyed in this pleasant mode of life. Finding, + however, that only two or three such days were left, they resolved to turn + them to account, and begged the Lady Oisille to give them their spiritual + nourishment as had been her wont. This she forthwith did, but she detained + them longer than usual, for before setting forth she desired to finish + reading the canonical writings of St. John; and so well did she acquit + herself of this, that it seemed as if the Holy Spirit in all His love and + sweetness spoke by her mouth. Glowing with this heavenly flame, they went + to hear high mass, and afterwards dined together, again speaking of the + past day, and doubting whether they could make another as fair. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 The allusion is to the bridge over the Gave spoken of in + the General Prologue (<i>ante</i>, vol. i. p. 25-6).—M. +</pre> + <p> + In order to set about it, they retired to their own rooms until it was + time to repair to their Chamber of Accounts on the Board of Green Grass, + where they found the monks already arrived and in their places. + </p> + <p> + When all were seated, the question was put, who should begin; and + Saffredent said— + </p> + <p> + “You did me the honour to have me begin on two days. Methinks we should + act wrongly towards the ladies if one of them did not also begin on two.” + </p> + <p> + “It were then needful,” said the Lady Oisille, “either that we should + continue here for a great while, or else that a gentleman and a lady of + the company should forego the beginning of a day.” + </p> + <p> + “For my part,” said Dagoucin, “had I been chosen, I would have given my + place to Saffredent.” + </p> + <p> + “And I,” said Nomerfide, “to Parlamente, for I have been so wont to serve + that I know not how to command.” + </p> + <p> + To this all agreed, and Parlamente thus began— + </p> + <p> + “Ladies, the days that are past have been filled with so many tales of + wisdom, that I would beg you to fill this one with the greatest (yet most + real) follies that we can remember. So, to lead the way, I will begin.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0063" id="linkimage-0063"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/219a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="219a. The Saddler’s Wife Cured by The Sight of Her Husband Caressing the Serving-maid " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Saddler’s Wife Cured by the sight of her Husband <br /> Caressing the + Serving-maid] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0064" id="linkimage-0064"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/219.jpg" width="100%" alt="219.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXXI</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>A saddler’s wife, who was grievously sick, was made whole + and recovered the power of speech, which for the space of + two days site had lost, on seeing her husband holding his + serving-maid too familiarly on the bed whilst she herself + was drawing to her end</i>. +</pre> + <p> + In the town of Amboise there lived one Brimbaudier, (1) saddler to the + Queen of Navarre, and a man whose colour of feature showed him to be by + nature rather a servant of Bacchus than a priest of Diana. He had married + a virtuous woman who controlled his household very discreetly, and with + whom he was well content. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 Boaistuau gives the name as Bruribandier, and Gruget + transforms it into Borribaudier. M, Pifteau, after examining + the MSS., is doubtful whether Brimbaudier is the correct + reading. Bromardier, which in old French meant a tippler + (Ducange, <i>Briemardum</i>), would have been an appropriate name + for the individual referred to.—Ed. +</pre> + <p> + One day it was told him that his good wife was sick and in great danger, + at which tidings he was in the greatest trouble imaginable. He went with + all speed to her aid, and found her so low, poor woman, that she had more + need of a confessor than a doctor. Thereupon he made the most pitiful + lamentation that could be, but to represent it well ‘twere needful to + speak thickly as he did, (2) and better still to paint one’s face like + his. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2 Curiously enough, the transcriber of MS. No. 1520 + attempts to give some idea of the husband’s pronunciation by + transforming all his r’s into l’s. Here is an example: “Je + pelz ma povle femme, que fesai-ze, moi malhureux?... M’amie + je me meuls, je suis pis que tlepassé... je ne sçai que + faize,” &c.—L. +</pre> + <p> + When he had done all that he could for her, she asked for the cross, and + it was brought. On seeing this, the good man flung himself upon a bed in + despair, crying and saying in his thick speech— + </p> + <p> + “Ah God! I am losing my poor wife! What shall I do, unhappy man that I + am?” + </p> + <p> + After uttering many such complaints, he perceived that there was no one in + the room but a young servant-maid, passably fair and buxom, and he called + to her in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Sweetheart,” he said, “I am dying. I am more than dead to see your + mistress dying in this manner. I know not what to do or say, except that I + commend myself to you, and beg you to care for my house and my children. + Take therefore the keys from my side, and order the household, for I + myself can attend to nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + The poor girl had pity on him and comforted him, begging him not to + despair, so that, if she must lose her mistress, she might not also lose + her good master. + </p> + <p> + “Sweetheart,” he replied, “‘tis all of no avail, for I am indeed dying. + See yourself how cold my face is; bring your cheeks close to mine and warm + them.” + </p> + <p> + With this he laid his hand upon her breast. She tried to make some + difficulty, but he begged her to have no fear, since they must indeed see + each other more closely. And speaking in this wise, he took her in his + arms and threw her upon the bed. + </p> + <p> + Then his wife, whose only company was the cross and the holy water, and + who had not spoken for two days, began to cry out as loudly as her feeble + voice enabled her— + </p> + <p> + “Ah! ah! ah! I am not dead yet!” And threatening them with her hand, she + repeated—“Villain! monster! I am not dead yet!” + </p> + <p> + On hearing her voice, the husband and maid rose up, but she was in such a + rage against them that her anger consumed the catarrhal humour that had + prevented her from speaking, and she poured upon them all the abuse that + she could think of. And from that hour she began to mend, though not + without often reproaching her husband for the little love he bore her. (3) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 This story was imitated by Noël du Fail de La Hérissaye + in his <i>Contes d’Eutrapel</i> (ch. v.<i> De la Goutte</i>), where + the hero of the incident is called Glaume Esnaut de + Tremeril. “It is said,” writes Du Fail, “that the wife of + that rascal Glaume of Tremeril when at the point of death, + on seeing Glaume too familiar with her serving-woman, + recovered her senses, saying, ‘Ah! wicked man, I am not yet + so low as you thought. By God’s grace, mistress baggage, you + shall go forth at once.’” Curiously enough, the 1585 edition + of the <i>Contes d’Eutrapel</i> was printed at Rennes for Noël + Glame, virtually the same name as Glaume.—M. +</pre> + <p> + “By this you see, ladies, the hypocrisy of men, and how a little + consolation will make them forget their sorrow for their wives.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know,” said Hircan, “that he had not heard that such was the + best remedy his wife could have? Since his kindly treatment availed not to + cure her, he wished to try whether the opposite would prove any better, + and the trial was a very fortunate one. But I marvel that you who are a + woman should have shown how the constitution of your sex is brought to + amendment rather by foul means than by fair.” + </p> + <p> + “Without doubt,” said Longarine, “behaviour of that kind would make me + rise not merely from my bed, but from a grave such as that yonder.” + </p> + <p> + “And what wrong did he do her,” asked Saffre-dent, “by comforting himself + when he thought that she was dead? It is known that the marriage-tie lasts + only through life, and that when this is ended it is loosed.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Oisille, “loosed from oath and bond, but a good heart is never + loosed from love. The husband you have told us of was indeed quick to + forget his grief, since he could not wait until his wife had breathed her + last.” + </p> + <p> + “What I think strangest of all,” said Nomerfide, “is that, when death and + the cross were before his eyes, he should not have lost all desire to + offend against God.” + </p> + <p> + “A brave argument!” said Simontault. “You would therefore not be surprised + to see a man act wantonly provided he were a good distance from the church + and cemetery?” + </p> + <p> + “You may laugh at me as much as you please,” said Nomerfide; “nevertheless + the contemplation of death must greatly chill a heart, however young it + may be.” + </p> + <p> + “I should indeed be of the same opinion as yourself,” said Dagoucin, “if I + had not heard a Princess say the opposite.” + </p> + <p> + “In other words.” said Parlamente, “she told some story about it. If it be + so, I will give you my place that you may relate it to us.” + </p> + <p> + Then Dagoucin began as follows:— + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0065" id="linkimage-0065"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/224.jpg" width="100%" alt="224.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0066" id="linkimage-0066"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/225a.jpg" width="100%" + alt="225a. The Monk Conversing With The Nun While Shrouding A Dead Body " /> + </div> + <h4> + [The Monk Conversing with the Nun while Shrouding a Dead Body] + </h4> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0067" id="linkimage-0067"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/225.jpg" width="100%" alt="225.jpg Page Image " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + <i>TALE LXXII</i>. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>Whilst engaged in the last deed of charity, the shrouding + of a dead body, a monk did also engage with a nun in the + deeds of the flesh, and made her big with child</i>. (1) +</pre> + <p> + In one of the finest towns of France after Paris there stood an hospital + (2) richly endowed—namely, with a Prioress and fifteen or sixteen + nuns, while in another building there was a Prior and seven or eight + monks. Every day the monks said mass, but the nuns only their paternosters + and the Hours of Our Lady, for they were occupied in tending the sick. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1 Gruget first printed this tale, which was not given by + Boaistuau.—L. + + 2 It is impossible to say what town and hospital Margaret + here refers to. Lyons is the scene of the latter part of the + story; and we are inclined to think that the earlier + incidents may have occurred at Dijon, where there was a + famous hospital under ecclesiastical management, founded by + Eudes III., seventh Duke of Burgundy.—L. and Ed. +</pre> + <p> + One day it chanced that a poor man died, and the nuns, being all assembled + with him, after giving him every remedy for his health, sent for one of + their monks to confess him. Then, finding that he was growing weaker, they + gave him the extreme unction, after which he little by little lost the + power of speech. + </p> + <p> + But as he was a long time in passing away, and it seemed that he could + still hear, the nuns continued speaking to him with the most comforting + words they knew, until at last they grew weary, and, finding that night + was come and that it was late, retired one after another to rest. Thus, to + shroud the body, there remained only one of the youngest of the nuns, with + a monk whom she feared more than the Prior or any other, by reason of the + severity that he displayed in both speech and life. + </p> + <p> + When they had duly uttered their Hours in the poor man’s ear, they + perceived that he was dead, and thereupon laid him out. Whilst engaged on + this last deed of charity, the monk began to speak of the wretchedness of + life, and the blessedness of death; and in such discourse they continued + until after midnight. + </p> + <p> + The poor girl listened attentively to the monk’s pious utterances, looking + at him the while with tears in her eyes; and so pleasing were these to him + that, whilst speaking of the life to come, he began to embrace her as + though he longed to bear her away in his arms to Paradise. + </p> + <p> + The poor girl, listening to his discourse and deeming him the most pious + of the community, ventured not to say him nay. + </p> + <p> + Perceiving this, the wicked monk, whilst still speaking of God, + accomplished with her the work which the devil suddenly put into their + hearts—for before there had been no question of such a thing. He + assured her, however, that secret sin was not imputed to men by God, and + that two persons who had no ties, could do no wrong in this manner, when + no scandal came of it; and, to avoid all scandal, he told her to be + careful to confess to none but himself. + </p> + <p> + So they parted each from the other, she going first. And as she passed + through a chapel dedicated to Our Lady, she was minded to make her prayer + as was her wont. But when she began with the words, “Mary, Virgin,” she + remembered that she had lost the title of virginity not through force or + love, but through foolish fear; and she began to weep so bitterly that it + seemed as if her heart must break. + </p> + <p> + The monk, hearing the sighing from a distance, suspected her repentance, + which might make him lose his delight, and to prevent this, he came and, + finding her prostrate before the image, began to rebuke her harshly, + telling her that if she had any scruples of conscience she should confess + herself to him, and that she need not so act again unless she desired; for + she might behave in either way without sin. The foolish nun, thinking to + make atonement to God, confessed herself to the monk; but in respect of + penance he swore to her that she did no sin in loving him, and that holy + water would suffice to wash away such a peccadillo. + </p> + <p> + Believing in him more than in God, she again some time afterwards yielded + to him, and so became big with child. At this she was in deep grief, and + entreated the Prioress to have the monk turned away from his monastery, + saying that she knew him to be so crafty that he would not fail to seduce + her. The Abbess and the Prior, who understood each other, laughed at her, + saying that she was big enough to defend herself against a man, and that + the monk she spoke of was too virtuous to do such a deed. + </p> + <p> + At last, urged by the prickings of her conscience, she craved license to + go to Rome, for she thought that, by confessing her sin at the Pope’s + feet, she might recover her virginity. This the Prior and Prioress very + readily granted her, for they were more willing that she should become a + pilgrim contrary to the rules of her order, than be shut up in the convent + with her present scruples. They feared also that in her despair she might + denounce the life that was led among them, and so gave her money for her + journey. + </p> + <p> + But God brought it to pass that when she came to Lyons, my lady the + Duchess of Alençon, afterwards Queen of Navarre, being one evening after + vespers in the roodloft of the church of St. John, whither she came + secretly to perform a novena with three or four of her women, (3) heard + someone mounting the stairway whilst she was kneeling before the crucifix. + By the light of the lamp she saw it was a nun, and in order that she might + hear her devotions, the Duchess thereupon withdrew to the corner of the + altar. The nun, who believed herself to be alone, knelt down and, beating + her breast, began weeping so sorrowfully that it was piteous to hear her; + and all the while she cried naught but this—“Alas! my God, take pity + on this poor sinner.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3 See <i>ante</i>, Tale LXV., note i. +</pre> + <p> + The Duchess, wishing to learn what it meant, went up to her and said, + “Dear heart, what ails you, and whence do you come, and what brings you to + this place?” + </p> + <p> + The poor nun, who did not know her, replied, “Ah, sweet, my woe is such + that I have no help but in God; and I pray that He may bring me to speak + with the Duchess of Alençon. To her alone will I tell the matter, for I am + sure that, if it be possible, she will set it right.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear heart,” then said the Duchess, “you may speak to me as you would to + her, for I am one of her nearest friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me,” said the nun; “she alone must know my secret.” + </p> + <p> + Then the Duchess told her that she might speak freely, since she had + indeed found her whom she sought. Forthwith the poor woman threw herself + at her feet, and, after she had wept, related what you have heard + concerning her hapless fortune. The Duchess consoled her so well, that + whilst she took not from her everlasting repentance for her sin, she put + from her mind the journeying to Rome, and then sent her back to her priory + with letters to the Bishop of the place to have that shameful monk turned + away. + </p> + <p> + “I have this story from the Duchess herself, and from it you may see, + ladies, that Nomerfide’s prescription is not good for all, since these + persons fell into lewdness even while touching and laying out the dead.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Twas a device,” said Hircan, “that methinks no man ever used before, to + talk of death and engage in the deeds of life.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis no deed of life,” said Oisille, “to sin, for it is well known that + sin begets death.” + </p> + <p> + “You may be sure,” said Saffredent, “that these poor folk gave no thought + to any such theology; but just as the daughters of Lot made their father + drunk so that the human race might be preserved, so these persons wished + to repair what death had spoiled, and to replace the dead body by a new + one. I therefore can see no harm in the matter except the tears of the + poor nun, who was always weeping and always returning to the cause of her + tears.” + </p> + <p> + “I have known many of the same kind,” said Hircan, “who wept for their + sins and laughed at their pleasures both together.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I know whom you mean,” said Parlamente, “and their laughter has + lasted so great a while that ‘twere time the tears should begin.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said Hircan. “The tragedy that has begun with laughter is not + ended yet.” + </p> + <p> + “To change the subject,” said Parlamente, “it seems to me that Dagoucin + departed from our purpose. We were to tell only merry tales, and his was + very piteous.” + </p> + <p> + “You said,” replied Dagoucin, “that you would only tell of follies, and I + think that herein I have not been lacking. But, that we may hear a more + pleasant story, I give my vote to Nomerfide, in the hope that she will + make amends for my error.” + </p> + <p> + “I have indeed,” she answered, “a story ready which is worthy to follow + yours; for it speaks of monks and death. So I pray you give good heed.” + </p> + <p> + <i>Here end the Tales and Novels of the late Queen of Navarre, that is, + all that can be recovered of them</i>. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0068" id="linkimage-0068"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/232.jpg" width="100%" alt="232.jpg Tailpiece " /> + </div> + <p> + <a name="link2H_APPE" id="link2H_APPE"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + APPENDIX. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SUPPOSED NARRATORS OF THE <i>HEPTAMERON</i> TALES. + </h2> + <p> + In his introductory essay to this translation of the <i>Heptameron</i>, + Mr. George Saintsbury has called attention to the researches of various + commentators who have laboured to identify the supposed narrators of Queen + Margaret’s tales. As it may be fairly assumed that the setting of the work + is pure invention on the Queen’s part, the researches in question can + scarcely serve any useful purpose. Still they appear to have had + considerable attraction for several erudite editors, whose opinions, + occasionally alluded to in our notes, we will here briefly summarise for + the information of those whom the matter may interest:— + </p> + <p> + OISILLE, a widow lady of long experience, is supposed by Messrs. de Lincy, + Lacroix, Génin, Frank, de Montaiglon and Miss Mary Robinson to be Louise + of Savoy. In some MSS. the name is written Osyle, the anagram of <i>Loyse</i>, + in which fashion Louise was spelt in old French. It may be pointed out, <i>en + passant</i>, that Brantôme’s grandmother, the Sénéchale of Poitou, whose + connection with the <i>Heptameron</i> is recorded, was also named Louise + (see ante, vol. i. p. lxxxii.). + </p> + <p> + PARLAMENTE, wife of Hircan, is supposed by the same commentators to be + Queen Margaret herself; this is assumed mainly because the views which + Parlamente expresses on religion, philosophy, men and women, are generally + in accord with those which the Queen is known to have professed. + </p> + <p> + HIRCAN, in M. de Lincy’s opinion, might be the Duke of Alençon, Margaret’s + first husband. Messrs. Frank and Mont-aiglon, following M. Lacroix, prefer + to identify him as Henry d’Albret, King of Navarre. They conjecture the + name of Hircan to be derived from Ilanricus, a not uncommon fashion of + spelling Henricus. It might, however, simply come from <i>hircus</i>, a + he-goat, for Hircan is a man of gross, sensual tastes. + </p> + <p> + LONGARINE, a young widow, is supposed by M. de Lincy to be Blanche de + Chastillon, <i>née</i> de Tournon (concerning whom see <i>ante</i>, vol. + i. p. 84, n. 7, and p. 120 <i>et seq</i>.; vol. iv. p. 144, n. 2; and vol. + v. p. 25, n. 2). M. Frank, however, thinks she is Aimée Motier de la + Fayette, lady of <i>Longray</i>, widow of Francis de Silly, Bailiff of + Caen, and <i>gouvernante</i> to Queen Margaret’s daughter, Jane of + Navarre. Miss Robinson shares this opinion, but M. de Montaiglon thinks + that <i>Longarine</i> would rather be Aimée Motier de la Fayette’s + daughter Frances, married to Frederic d’Almenesches, of one of the + branches of the house of Foix. + </p> + <p> + SIMONTAULT (occasionally <i>Symontaut</i>), a young knight, is thought by + M. de Lincy to be Henry d’Albret, Margaret’s second husband, who was of an + extremely amorous disposition, and much younger than herself. Messrs. + Frank and de Montaiglon, however, fancy <i>Simontault</i> to have been + Francis, Baron de Bourdeilles, father of Brantôme. It is admitted, + however, that if this be the case, it is curious that Brantôme should not + have alluded to it in any of his writings, whereas he does speak both of + his mother and of his grandmother in connection with the <i>Heptameron</i>. + </p> + <p> + ENNASUITE (occasionally <i>Ennasuitte</i> or <i>Ennasuicte</i>, and in + some MSS. <i>Emarsuite</i>), is supposed by Messrs. de Lincy, Frank, and + de Montaiglon to be Anne de Vivonne, wife of Francis de Bourdeilles and + mother of Brantôme (see ante, vol. iv. p. 144, n. 2). It is pointed out + that the name may be transformed into the three words <i>Anne et suite</i>. + </p> + <p> + DAGOUCIN, a young gentleman, is thought by M. Frank to be Nicholas Dangu + (see ante, vol. i. p. 20, n. 4, and p. 40, n. 3), who became Chancellor to + the King of Navarre. M. Lacroix, however, fancies this personage to be a + Count d’Agoust. + </p> + <p> + GEBURON, apparently an elderly man, would in M. Frank’s opinion be the + Seigneur de Burye, a captain of the Italian wars to whom Brantôme (his + cousin-german) alludes in his writings. The name of de Burye is also found + in a list of the personages present at Queen Margaret’s funeral. M. de + Montaiglon shares M. Frank’s views. + </p> + <p> + NOMERFIDE, so M. de Lincy suggests, may have been the famous Frances de + Foix, Countess of Chateaubriand; but M. Frank opines that she is a + Demoiselle de Fimarcon or Fiédmarcon (Lat. <i>Feudimarco</i>), who in 1525 + married John de Montpczat, called “Captain Carbon,” one of the exquisites + of the famous Field of the cloth of gold. Miss Robinson, however, fancies + that Nomerfide is Isabel d’Albret, sister of Margaret’s second husband, + and wife of René de Rohan. + </p> + <p> + SAFFREDENT, so M. de Lincy thinks, may be Admiral de Bonnivet; M. Frank + suggests John de Montpezat; and Miss Robinson René de Rohan, who, after + his father Peter de Rohan-Gié (husband of Rolandine, see <i>ante</i>, vol. + iii., Tale XXI, notes 2 and 15), had been killed at Pavia, was for some + years entrusted to Queen Margaret’s care. As Miss Robinson points out, <i>Saffredent</i> + literally means greedy tooth or sweet tooth. + </p> + <p> + Those who may be desirous of studying and comparing these various attempts + at identification, will find all the evidence and arguments of any value + set forth in the writings of M. Frank, M. de Montaiglon and Miss Robinson, + which are specified in the Bibliography annexed to this appendix.—Ed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_BIBL" id="link2H_BIBL"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BIBLIOGRAPHY. + </h2> + <p> + Fourteen MS. copies of the <i>Heptameron</i> are known to exist. Twelve of + these are at the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, one is at the town library + of Orleans, and one in the Vatican library. We also have some record of + four other copies which were in private libraries at the end of the last + century. + </p> + <p> + The twelve MSS. at the Bibliothèque Nationale are the following:— + </p> + <p> + I. (No. 1511 in the catalogue). A folio volume bound in red morocco, + bearing the Béthune arms. This MS. is on ruled paper, and only one leaf, + the last, is missing. + </p> + <p> + II. (No. 1512). A small folio, calf gilt, 350 leaves, from Colbert’s + library. The handwriting is that of the middle of the sixteeenth century, + and is the same throughout; the last page bearing the signature “Doulcet.” + This supplied the text followed in the present translation. + </p> + <p> + III. (No. 1513). A small folio, half-bound in red morocco, stamped with + King Louis Philippe’s monogram. It contains only twenty-eight of the + tales. + </p> + <p> + IV. (No. 1514). A large quarto, calf, from the De Mesmes library. Contains + only thirty-four of the tales. + </p> + <p> + V. (No. 1515). A small folio from Colbert’s library, bound in calf, in + Groslier’s style. The text is complete, but there are numerous interlinear + and marginal corrections and additions, in the same handwriting as MS. + VII. + </p> + <p> + VI. (Nos. 1516 to 1519). Four quarto vols., red morocco, Béthune arms. The + first prologue is deficient, as is also the last leaf of tale lxxi. + </p> + <p> + VII. (No. 1520). A folio vol., calf and red morocco, stamped with + fleurs-de-lys and the monogram of Louis XVIII. This MS. on stout ruled + paper, in a beautiful italic handwriting of the end of the sixteenth + century, is complete. Unfortunately Queen Margaret’s phraseology has been + considerably modified, though, on the other hand, the copyist has inserted + a large number of different readings, as marginal notes, which render his + work of great value. It is frequently quoted in the present translation. + </p> + <p> + VIII. (No. 1523). A folio vol., calf, from the De La Marre library. The + first two leaves are deficient, and the text ends with the fifth tale of + Day IV. + </p> + <p> + IX. (No. 1522). A small folio, bound in parchment, from the De La Marre + library. Only the tales of the first four days are complete, and on folio + 259 begins a long poem called Les Prisons, the work probably of William + Filandrier, whom Queen Margaret protected. On the first folio of the + volume is the inscription, in sixteenth-century handwriting: <i>Pour ma + sour Marie Philander</i>. The poem <i>Les Prisons</i> is quoted on pp. + xxxviii.-ix. vol. i. of the present work. It concludes with an epitaph on + Margaret, dated 1549. + </p> + <p> + X. (No. 1524). A folio vol. from Colbert’s library, bound in red and + yellow morocco, on which is painted, on a blue ground, a vine laden with + grapes twining round the trunk of a tree. On either side and in gold + letters is the device, <i>Sin e doppo la morte</i> (until and after + death). Following the title-page, on which the work is called “The + Decameron of the most high and most illustrious Princess, Madame Margaret + of France,” is a curious preface signed “Adrian de Thou,” and dated + “Paris, August 8, 1553.” This Adrian de Thou, Lord of Hierville and canon + of Notre Dame de Paris, counsellor and clerk of the Paris Parliament, was + the fourth son of Augustine de Thou and uncle to James Augustus de Thou, + the historian. He died in October 1570. His MS. of the <i>Heptameron</i>, + a most beautiful specimen of caligraphy, contains a long table of various + readings and obscure passages; this was consulted in preparing the text + for the present translation. The titles to the tales have also been + borrowed from this MS.; they were composed by De Thou himself, and figure + in no other MS. copy. + </p> + <p> + XI. (No. 1525). A small folio, calf, from Colbert’s library, very + incomplete and badly written, but containing the <i>Miroir de Jésu Crist + crucifié</i>, the last poem Queen Margaret composed (see <i>ante</i>, vol. + i. p. lxxxvi.). + </p> + <p> + XII. (No. 2155). A small quarto, red morocco, from the library of Mazarin, + whose escutcheon has been cut off. The text, which is complete and + correct, excepting that a portion of the prologue has been accidentally + transposed, is followed by an epitaph on the Queen. The handwriting + throughout is that of the end of the sixteenth century. + </p> + <p> + The other MSS. of the <i>Heptameron</i> are the following:— + </p> + <p> + XIII. (Orleans town library, No. 352). A folio vol. of 440 pp. It is + doubtful whether this MS. is of the sixteenth or seventeenth century. It + bears the title <i>L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles, &c</i>. There are + numerous deficiencies in the text. + </p> + <p> + XIV. (Vatican library, No. 929; from the library of Queen Christina of + Sweden). A folio vol., calf, 95 leaves, handwriting of the end of the + sixteenth century. This only contains fifteen of the stories. + </p> + <p> + XV. (present possessor unknown). A folio vol., red morocco; text (ending + with tale lxix. ) in sixteenth-century handwriting, with illuminated + initial letters to each tale. <i>Catalogue des livres de feue Mme. la + Comtesse de Verrue</i>, Paris, G. Martin, 1737. + </p> + <p> + XVI. (possessor unknown). MS. supposed to be the original, a large folio, + handwriting of the period, antique binding, containing the seventy-two + tales. <i>Catalogue des livres, &c., du cabinet de M. Filheul, &c.</i>, + Paris, Chardin, 1779, pp. xxi. and 280. + </p> + <p> + XVII. (possessor unknown). A folio vol., blue morocco, gilt. No. 1493 in + the catalogue of the <i>Bibliothèque de Simon Bernard, chez Barrois</i>, + Paris, 1734; and No. 213 in a <i>Catalogue de manuscrits intéressants qui + seront vendus... en la maison de M. Gueret, notaire</i>, Paris, Debure + fils jeune, 1776. + </p> + <p> + XVIII. (possessor unknown). A folio vol., blue morocco, gilt, stamped with + the arms of France, from the Randon de Boisset library; the seventy-two + tales complete, a very fine copy. <i>Catalogue des livres de la + bibliothèqzie de l’Abbé Rive</i>, Marseilles, 1793. (This MS. should not + be confounded with No. xvii. See L. J. Hubaud’s <i>Dissertation sur les + Contes de la Reine de Navarre</i>, Marseilles, 1850.) + </p> + <p> + The following are the editions of Queen Margaret’s tales issued from the + press from the sixteenth century to the present time. The list has been + prepared with great care, and we believe it to be as complete a one as can + be furnished; it includes several editions not mentioned in Brunet’s + Manual:— + </p> + <p> + I. <i>Histoires des Amans Fortunez dédiées à très illustre princesse, Mme. + Marguerite de Bourbon, etc., par Pierre Boaistuau, dit Launoy</i>, Paris, + 1558, 40. The authorisation to print and publish was accorded to Vincent + Sertenas, and the work was issued by three different booksellers; some + copies bearing the name of Gilles Robinot, others that of Jean Cavyller, + and others that of Gilles Gilles. + </p> + <p> + This, the first edition of the Queen’s work, contains only sixty-seven of + the tales, which are not divided into days or printed in their proper + sequence; the prologues, moreover, are deficient, and all the bold + passages on religious and philosophical questions, &c, in the + conversational matter following the stories, are suppressed. + </p> + <p> + II. <i>L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles de tris illustre et très excellente + Princesse Marguerite de Valois, Royne de Navarre, &c., dédié à très + illustre et très vertueuse Princesse Jeanne, Royne de Navarre, par Claude + Gruget, parisien</i>, Paris, Vincent Certena, or Jean Caveillier, 1559. + </p> + <p> + This contains all the Queen’s tales excepting Nos. xi., xliv., and xlvi., + which Gruget replaced by others, probably written by himself. The other + stories are placed in their proper order, but none of the names and + passages suppressed by Boaistuau are restored. The phraseology of the + MSS., moreover, is still further modified and polished. + </p> + <p> + The text adopted by Boaistuau and Gruget was followed, with a few + additional modifications, in all the editions issued during the later + years of the sixteenth century. Most of these are badly printed and + contain numerous typographical errors:— + </p> + <p> + III. <i>L’Heptamêron des Nouvelles, &c</i>. Reprint of Gruget’s + edition, sold by Vincent Sertenas, Gilles Robinot & Gilles Gille, and + printed by Benoist Prévost, Paris, 1560. + </p> + <p> + IV. <i>L’Heptamêron des Nouvelles, &c</i>., 1560, 16mo. (No + bookseller’s or printer’s name appears in this edition. ) + </p> + <p> + V. <i>L’Heptamêron, &c</i>. (Gruget). Guill. Rouillé, Lyons, 1561, + small 12mo; Gilles Gilles, Paris, 1561, 16mo. + </p> + <p> + VI. The same. Norment & Bruneau, and Gilles Gilles, Paris, 1567, 16mo. + </p> + <p> + VII. The same. Louys Cloquemin, Lyons, 1572, 16mo (reprinted in 1578 and + 1581). + </p> + <p> + VIII. The same. Michel de Roigny, Paris, 1574, 16mo (round letters). + </p> + <p> + IX. The same. Gab. Buon, Paris, 1581, 16mo. + </p> + <p> + X. The same. Abel L’Angelier, Paris, 1581, 18mo. + </p> + <p> + XI. The same. Jean Osmont, Rouen, 1598, 578 pp., sin. 12mo (good type). + </p> + <p> + XII. The same. Romain Beauvais, Rouen, 1598, 589 pp. 12mo. + </p> + <p> + In the seventeenth century the <i>Heptameron</i> was frequently reprinted, + Gruget’s text, with a few changes, being still followed until 1698, when + it occurred to some obscure literary man to put the tales into so-called + <i>beau langage</i>. At the same time the title of <i>Heptameron</i>, + devised by Gruget, was discarded (see post, No. XVI.). + </p> + <p> + XIII. <i>L’Heptaméron</i>, &c., printed by Ch. Chappellein, Paris, + 1607, 18mo. + </p> + <p> + XIV. The same. <i>Sur Pimprimé à Paris</i>, J. Bessin (Holland), 1615, sm. + l2mo (reprinted in 1698, 2. vols. 12mo). + </p> + <p> + XV. The same. David du Petit-Val, Rouen, 1625, 12mo. + </p> + <p> + XVI. <i>Contes et Nouvelles de Marguerite de Valois, Reine de Navarre, mis + en beau langage</i>. Gallet, Amsterdam, 1698, 2 vols, sm. 8vo. This + edition is valued not for its <i>beau langage</i>, but for the copperplate + engravings illustrating it. These are coarsely executed, and are + attributed to Roman de Hooge, but do not bear his name. A reprint of the + edition appeared at Amsterdam in 1700. + </p> + <p> + XVII. The same. Gallet, Amsterdam, 1708, 2 vols. sm. 8vo. Virtually a + reprint, but with several of the Roman de Hooge plates deficient, and + replaced by others signed Harrewyn. + </p> + <p> + XVIII. The same. La Haye (Chartres), 1733, 2 vols. sm. 12mo. + </p> + <p> + XIX. The same. Londres, 1744, 2 vols. 12mo. + </p> + <p> + XX. Heptaméron Français, ou les Nouvelles de Marguerite, Reine de Navarre; + chez la Nouvelle Société Typographique, Berne, 1780-1, 3 vols. 8vo. On + some copies the title is simply, Nouvelles de Marguerite, etc., Berne, + 1781; on others Béat Louis Walthard is designated as the publisher. + </p> + <p> + For this edition were executed the copperplate engravings, designed by + Freudenberg and Dunker, which illustrate the present translation. It was + at first intended to issue the work in parts, but after parts i. and ii. + had been published (at 4 livres each) the project was abandoned. A few + copies of these two parts are in existence; they bear the date 1778. + Freudenberg began his designs in the previous year, and finished them in + 1780. + </p> + <p> + This edition is greatly prized for its illustrations; the text, however, + largely modified by Jean Rodolphe de Sinner, is without value. The work + was reissued at Paris in 1784 (8 vols, in 8vo, some copies 18mo), at Berne + in 1792, and again in Paris in 1807 (8 vols. 18mo). + </p> + <p> + The following new editions of the <i>Heptameron</i> have appeared during + the present century:— + </p> + <p> + XXI. <i>Contes et Nouvelles de Marguerite, &c</i>. Dauthereau, Paris, + 1828, 5 vols. 32mo. (Collection des romans français et étrangers.) + </p> + <p> + XXII. <i>L’Heptamêron, ou Histoire des Amants fortunés, &c, ancien + texte publié par C. Gruget.., revu, corrigé et publié avec des notes, + &c., par le bibliophile Jacob</i>. Gosselin (Bibliothèque d’Élite), + Paris, 1841, 12mo. In this edition the Bibliophile Jacob (M. P. Lacroix) + but slightly modified Gruget’s text, and his annotation was comparatively + insignificant. His work was reproduced in a volume of the <i>Panthéon + Littéraire: Les vieux Conteurs français</i>, Paris, 1841, 1. 8vo. (double + cols.). + </p> + <p> + XXIII. <i>Heptaméron des Nouvelles de... Margtierile d’Angouléme... + publiée sur les manuscrits par la Société des Bibliophiles Français</i> + (Le Roux de Lincy, editor), Paris, 1853-4, 3 vols. sm. 18mo. + </p> + <p> + In this edition the real text of the tales was printed for the first time, + M. de Lincy having carefully examined the best MSS. for this purpose. The + present English translation is based upon his work. Copies of the + “Bibliophiles Français” edition, which contains a portrait of the Queen, a + facsimile of a miniature, and an engraving showing her arms and device, + cannot be purchased, when in fair condition, for less than £6 in Paris. + </p> + <p> + XXIV. <i>L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles, etc.... avec des notes et une notice + par P. L. Jacob, Bibliophile</i> (Paul Lacroix). Adolphe Delahays, <i>Bibliothèque + Gauloise</i>, Paris, 1858, 18mo. + </p> + <p> + In this edition M. Lacroix, following M. de Lincy’s example, went to the + MSS. for his text, which he annotated with care and erudition. All his + notes of any importance are reproduced in the present translation. The + edition of 1858 was reprinted in 1875. + </p> + <p> + XXV. <i>L’Heptaméron, &c</i>. Gamier frères, Paris, n.d., 1 vol. 18mo. + This was long the “popular” edition in France. The text, which is + considerably modernised, is of no value. + </p> + <p> + XXVI. <i>Les sept Journées de la Reine de Navarre, suivies de la huitième</i>. + Paris, Librairie des Bibliophiles (Jouaust), 1872, 4 vols. l6mo. + </p> + <p> + In this edition Gruget’s text is followed; the notes, &c, are by M. + Lacroix. The work is prized for its illustrations (a portrait and eight + etchings) by Leopold Flameng. It was originally issued in eight parts. The + value of the copies varies according to the paper on which they are + printed. Those on India or Whatman paper, with a duplicate set of the + engravings, command high prices. The text has been reissued by the same + firm in two cr. 8vo vols, under the title of <i>L’Heptaméron des contes, + etc</i>. + </p> + <p> + XXVII. <i>L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles, &c</i>, preface, notes, &c, + by Benjamin Pifteau, in the <i>Nouvelle Collection Jannet</i>, Alphonse + Lemerre, Paris, 1875, 2 vols. l6mo. + </p> + <p> + This, undoubtedly the best of all the cheap editions, has been reprinted + by Marpon & Flammarion, Paris, n.d. The text is from the MSS.; the + notes are mainly abbreviated from those of MM. de Lincy and Lacroix. M. + Pifteau supplies an introduction and glossary. + </p> + <p> + XXVIII. <i>L’Heptaméron, &c., publié avec Introduction, Notes et + Glossaire par Félix Frank</i>. Liseux, Paris, 1879, 3 vols. 12mo. + </p> + <p> + This, from the literary point of view, is one of the most important of + modern editions. The text is not taken from the same MS. as was followed + by M. de Lincy. The tales are preceded by a lengthy introduction, in which + the editor discusses Queen Margaret’s work and seeks to identify the + supposed narrators of her tales. He has frequently been quoted in the + notes to this translation. + </p> + <p> + XXIX. <i>L’Heptaméron, &c, avec notes, variantes et glossaire par F. + Dillaye et notice par A. France</i>. A. Lemerre, Paris, 1879. + </p> + <p> + A handy edition based on the MSS. The notes embody the substance of M. de + Lincy’s and M. Lacroix’s researches with additional particulars supplied + by M. Dillaye, who has been quoted in the course of the present work. + </p> + <p> + XXX. <i>L’Heptaméron, &c., publié stir les manuscrits avec les notes + de MM. Le Poux de Lincy et Anatole de Montaiglon</i>. Auguste Eudes, + Paris, 1880, 8 vols. 1. 8vo and 4 vols. cr. 8vo. + </p> + <p> + The edition in 8 vols, (two copies of which on parchment were issued at + £44 each; and twelve on Japanese paper at £20 each) is illustrated with + the Freudenberg plates; that in 4 vols, contains the text only. The text + is the same as that of No. XXIII.; but with additional notes, prefatory + matter, &c. The copyright attaching to this edition was acquired for + the present work, in which all M. de Montaiglon’s important notes are + reproduced. + </p> + <p> + Among the English translations of the <i>Heptameron</i> are the following:— + </p> + <p> + <i>Heptameron</i>, or the <i>History of the Fortunate Lovers</i>, + translated by R. Codrington, London, 1654, 12mo. (Dedicated to Thomas + Stanley, the translator of Anacreon and editor of Æschylus, and based on + Boaistuau’s defective text.) + </p> + <p> + The <i>Heptameron of Margaret, Queen of Navarre, nota first translated + from the original text, by Walter K. Kelly</i>. Bohn (extra volume), + London, 1855. This has been several times reprinted. The translation is a + very free rendering of M. de Lincy’s text; many passages are deficient. + </p> + <p> + The <i>Heptameron, &c., translated from the original French by Arthur + Machen</i>. Privately printed (G. Redway), London, 1886, 1 vol. 1. 8vo. A + scholarly translation, not annotated; illustrated with the etchings by + Flameng (see <i>ante</i>, edition xxv.). + </p> + <p> + <i>The Fortunate Lovers, twenty-seven novels of the Queen of Navarre, + translated by Arthur Machen, edited with notes and introduction by A. Mary + F. Robinson</i>. G. Redway, London, 1887, 8vo. Etched frontispiece by G. + P. Jacomb Hood. This only contains such of the tales as the lady-editor + considered unobjectionable. In her introduction she sketches the life of + Queen Margaret and discusses the identity of the supposed narrators of the + tales. Some of the notes are original, but the majority are based upon the + researches of French commentators.—Ed. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + <tbody> + <tr> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17701/17701-h/17701-h.htm">Volume + I.</a> + </td> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17702/17702-h/17702-h.htm">Volume + II.</a> + </td> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17703/17703-h/17703-h.htm">Volume + III.</a> + </td> + <td> + <a + href="http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17704/17704-h/17704-h.htm">Volume + IV.</a> + </td> + </tr> + </tbody> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. V. +(of V.), by Margaret, Queen Of Navarre + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALES OF THE HEPTAMERON *** + +***** This file should be named 17705-h.htm or 17705-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/0/17705/ + +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. 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