“Those who would rather die than make their desire known could not
comply with your law.”
“Die!” thereupon said Hircan; “the good knight has yet to be born that
would die for the publishing of such a matter. But let us cease talking
of what is impossible, and see to whom Simontault will give his vote.”
“I give it,” said Simontault, “to Longarine, for I observed her just
now talking to herself. I imagine that she was recalling some excellent
matter, and she is not wont to conceal the truth, whether it be against
man or woman.”
“Since you deem me so truthful,” replied Longarine, “I will tell you a
tale which, though it be not so much to the praise of women as I could
wish it to be, will yet show you that there are some possessed of as
much spirit, wit, and craft as men. If my tale be somewhat long, you
will bear with it in patience.”
[Illustration: 155.jpg Tailpiece]
[Illustration: 157a.jpg The Lady taking Oath as to her Conduct]
[The Lady taking Oath as to her Conduct]
[Illustration: 157.jpg Page Image]
_TALE XV_.
_Through the favour of King Francis, a simple gentleman of
the Court married a very rich woman, of whom, however, as
much by reason of her extreme youth as of the bestowal of
his own heart elsewhere, he made but little account;
whereat, after trying every plan to please him, she was so
moved with resentment and overcome by despair, that she
resolved to console herself with another for the indignities
which she endured from her husband._ (1)
1 The incidents referred to in this story must have
occurred between 1515 and 1543, during the reign of Francis
I.--L.
At the Court of King Francis the First there was a gentleman whose name
I know right well, but will not mention. He was poor, having less than
five hundred livres a year, but he was so well liked by the King for
his many qualities that he at last married a lady of such wealth that
a great lord would have been pleased to take her. As she was still very
young, he begged one of the greatest ladies of the Court to receive her
into her household, and this the lady very willingly did.
Now this gentleman was so courteous, so handsome, and so full of grace
that he was held in great regard by all the ladies of the Court, and
among the rest by one whom the King loved, and who was neither so young
nor so handsome as his own wife. And by reason of the great love that
the gentleman bore this lady, he made such little account of his wife,
that he slept scarcely one night in the year with her, and, what she
found still harder to endure, he never spoke to her or showed her any
sign of love. And although he enjoyed her fortune, he allowed her so
small a share in it, that she was not dressed as was fitting for one
of her station, or as she herself desired. The lady with whom she abode
would often reproach the gentleman for this, saying to him--
“Your wife is handsome, rich, and of a good family, yet you make no more
account of her than if she were the opposite. In her extreme youth and
childishness she has hitherto submitted to your neglect; but I fear me
that when she finds herself grown-up and handsome, her mirror and some
one that loves you not will so set before her eyes that beauty by which
you set so little store, that resentment will lead her to do what she
durst not think of had you treated her well.”
The gentleman, however, having bestowed his heart elsewhere, made light
of what the lady said, and notwithstanding her admonitions, continued to
lead the same life as before.
But when two or three years had gone by, his wife became one of the most
beautiful women ever seen in France, so that she was reputed to have no
equal at the Court. And the more she felt herself worthy of being loved,
the more distressed she was to find that her husband paid no
attention to her; and so great became her affliction that, but for the
consolations of her mistress, she had well-nigh been in despair. After
trying every possible means to please her husband, she reflected that
his inclinations must needs be directed elsewhere, for otherwise he
could not but respond to the deep love that she bore him. Thereupon she
made such skilful inquiries that she discovered the truth, namely, that
he was every night so fully occupied in another quarter that he could
give no thought to his wife or to his conscience.
Having thus obtained certain knowledge of the manner of life he led,
she fell into such deep melancholy, that she would not dress herself
otherwise than in black or attend any place of entertainment. Her
mistress, who perceived this, did all that in her lay to draw her from
such a mood, but could not. And although her husband was made acquainted
with her state, he showed himself more inclined to make light of it than
to relieve it.
You are aware, ladies, that just as extreme joy will give occasion to
tears, so extreme grief finds an outlet in some joy. In this wise it
happened that a great lord who was near akin to the lady’s mistress, and
who often visited her, hearing one day of the strange fashion in which
she was treated by her husband, pitied her so deeply that he desired to
try to console her; and on speaking to her, found her so handsome, so
sensible, and so virtuous, that he became far more desirous of winning
her favour than of talking to her about her husband, unless it were to
show her what little cause she had to love him.
The lady, finding that, though forsaken by the man who ought to have
loved her, she was on the other hand loved and sought after by so
handsome a Prince, deemed herself very fortunate in having thus won his
favour. And although she still desired to preserve her honour, she took
great pleasure in talking to him and in reflecting that she was loved
and prized, for these were two things for which, so to speak, she
hungered.
This friendship continued for some time, until it came to the knowledge
of the King, who had so much regard for the lady’s husband that he
was unwilling he should be put to any shame or vexation. He therefore
earnestly begged the Prince to forego his inclinations, threatening him
with his displeasure should he continue to press his suit.
The Prince, who set the favour of the King above all the ladies in the
world, promised for his sake to lay aside the enterprise, and to go that
very evening and bid the lady farewell. This he did as soon as he knew
that she had retired to her own apartments, over which was the room of
the gentleman, her husband. And the husband being that evening at his
window, saw the Prince going into his wife’s room beneath. The Prince
saw him also, but went in for all that, and in bidding farewell to her
whose love was but beginning, pleaded as his sole reason the King’s
command.
After many tears and lamentations and regrets, which lasted until an
hour after midnight, the lady finally said--
“I praise God, my lord, that it pleases Him you should lose your love
for me, since it is so slight and weak that you are able to take it up
and lay it down at the command of man. For my own part, I have never
asked mistress or husband or even myself for permission to love you;
Love, aided by your good looks and courtesy, gained such dominion over
me that I could recognise no God or King save him. But since your heart
is not so full of true love that fear may not find room in it, you can
be no perfect lover, and I will love none that is imperfect so perfectly
as I had resolved to love you. Farewell, then, my lord, seeing that you
are too timorous to deserve a love as frank as mine.”
The Prince went away in tears, and looking back he again noticed the
husband, who was still at the window, and had thus seen him go in and
come out again. Accordingly he told him on the morrow why he had gone
to see his wife, and of the command that the King had laid upon him,
whereat the gentleman was well pleased, and gave thanks to the King.
However, finding that his wife was becoming more beautiful every day,
whilst he himself was growing old and less handsome than before, he
began to change his tactics, and to play the part which he had for a
long time imposed upon his wife, bestowing some attention upon her and
seeking her more frequently than had been his wont. But the more she was
sought by him the more was he shunned by her; for she desired to pay him
back some part of the grief that he had caused her by his indifference.
Moreover, being unwilling to forego so soon the pleasure that love was
beginning to afford her, she addressed herself to a young gentleman, who
was so very handsome, well-spoken, and graceful that he was loved by
all the ladies of the Court. And by complaining to him of the manner in
which she had been treated, she lured him to take pity upon her, so
that he left nothing untried in his attempts to comfort her. She, on
her part, to console herself for the loss of the Prince who had forsaken
her, set herself to love this gentleman so heartily that she came to
forget her former grief, and to think of nothing but the skilful conduct
of her new amour, in which she succeeded so well that her mistress
perceived nought of it, for she was careful not to speak to her lover
in her mistress’s presence. When she wished to talk with him she would
betake herself to the rooms of some ladies who lived at the Court,
amongst whom was one that her husband made a show of being in love with.
Now one dark evening she stole away after supper, without taking any
companion with her, and repaired to the apartment belonging to these
ladies, where she found the man whom she loved better than herself. She
sat down beside him, and leaning upon a table they conversed together
while pretending to read in the same book. Some one whom her husband had
set to watch then went and reported to him whither his wife was gone.
Being a prudent man, he said nothing, but as quickly as possible
betook himself to the room, where he found his wife reading the book.
Pretending, however, not to see her, he went straight to speak to the
other ladies, who were in another part of the room. But when his poor
wife found herself discovered by him in the company of a gentleman to
whom she had never spoken in his presence, she was in such confusion
that she quite lost her wits; and being unable to pass along the bench,
she leaped upon the table and fled as though her husband were pursuing
her with a drawn sword. And then she went in search of her mistress, who
was just about to withdraw to her own apartments.
When her mistress was undressed, and she herself had retired, one of
her women brought her word that her husband was inquiring for her. She
answered plainly that she would not go, for he was so harsh and strange
that she dreaded lest he should do her some harm.
At last, however, for fear of worse, she consented to go. Her husband
said not a word to her until they were in bed together, when being
unable to dissemble so well as he, she began to weep. And when he asked
her the cause of this, she told him that she was afraid lest he should
be angry at having found her reading in company with a gentleman.
He then replied that he had never forbidden her to speak to a man, and
did not take it ill that she had done so; but he did indeed take it ill
that she had run from him as though she had done something deserving of
censure, and her flight and nothing else had led him to think that she
was in love with the gentleman. He therefore commanded her never to
speak to him again in public or in private, and assured her that the
first time she did so he would slay her without mercy or compassion. She
very readily promised to obey, and made up her mind not to be so foolish
another time.
But things are desired all the more for being forbidden, and it was not
long before the poor woman had forgotten her husband’s threats and her
own promises. That very same evening she sent to the gentleman, begging
him to visit her at night. But the husband, who was so tormented
by jealousy that he could not sleep, and who had heard say that the
gentleman visited his wife at night, wrapped himself in a cloak, and
taking a valet with him, went to his wife’s apartment and knocked at the
door. She, not in the least expecting him, got up alone, put on furred
slippers and a dressing-gown which were lying close at hand, and finding
that the three or four women whom she had with her were asleep, went
forth from her room and straight to the door at which she had heard the
knocking. On her asking, “Who is there?” she received in answer the name
of her lover; but to be still more certain, she opened a little wicket,
saying--
“If you be the man you say you are, show me your hand, and I shall
recognise it.”
And when she touched her husband’s hand she knew who it was, and quickly
shutting the wicket, cried out--
“Ha, sir! it is your hand.”