On the following night he resolved to capture this ghost, and so, when
he had been in bed a little while, he pretended to snore very loudly,
and placed his open hand close to his face. Whilst he was in this wise
waiting for the ghost, he felt that something was coming near him, and
accordingly snored yet louder than before, whereat the ghost was
so encouraged as to deal him a mighty blow. Forthwith, the Lord of
Grignaulx caught the ghost’s hand as it rested on his face, and cried
out to his wife--
“I have the ghost!”
His wife immediately rose up and lit the candle, and found that it was
the serving-woman who slept in their room; and she, throwing herself
upon her knees, entreated forgiveness and promised to confess the truth.
This was, that she had long loved a serving-man of the house, and
had taken this fine mystery in hand in order to drive both master and
mistress away, so that she and her lover, having sole charge of the
house, might be able to make good cheer as they were wont to do when
alone. My Lord of Grignaulx, who was a somewhat harsh man, commanded
that they should be soundly beaten so as to prevent them from ever
forgetting the ghost, and this having been done, they were driven away.
In this fashion was the house freed from the plaguy ghosts who for two
years long had played their pranks in it. (5)
5 Talleyrand, who passes for having been the last of the
“Rois des Ribauds” (see the Bibliophile Jacob’s historical
novel of that title), was, like his descendant the great
diplomatist, a man of subtle and caustic humour. Brantôme,
in his article on Anne of Brittany in _Les Dames Illustres_,
repeatedly refers to him, and relates that on an occasion
when the Queen wished to say a few words in Spanish to the
Emperor’s ambassador--there was a project of marrying her
daughter Claude to Charles V.--she applied to Grignols to
teach her a sentence or two of the Castilian language. He,
however, taught her some dirty expression, but was careful
to warn Louis XII., who laughed at it, telling his wife on
no account to use the Spanish words she had learnt. On
discovering the truth, Anne was so greatly vexed, that
Grignols was obliged to withdraw from Court for some time,
and only with difficulty obtained the Queen’s forgiveness.--
L. and Ed.
“It is wonderful, ladies, to think of the effects wrought by the mighty
god of Love. He causes women to put aside all fear, and teaches them to
give every sort of trouble to man in order to work their own ends. But
if the purpose of the serving-woman calls for blame, the sound sense
of the master is no less worthy of praise. He knew that when the spirit
departs, it returns no more.” (6)
6 “A wind that passeth away, and cometh not again.”--_Psalm_
lxxviii. 39.--M.
“In sooth,” said Geburon, “love showed little favour to the man and
the maid, but I agree that the sound sense of the master was of great
advantage to him.”
“Nevertheless,” said Ennasuite, “the maid through her cunning lived for
a long time at her ease.”
“‘Tis but a sorry ease,” said Oisille, “that is founded upon sin and
that ends in shame and chastisement.”
“That is true, madam,” said Ennasuite, “but many persons reap pain
and sorrow by living righteously, and lacking wit enough to procure
themselves in all their lives as much pleasure as these two.”
“It is nevertheless my opinion,” said Oisille, “that there can be no
perfect pleasure unless the conscience be at rest.”
“Nay,” said Simontault, “the Italian maintains that the greater the sin
the greater the pleasure.” (7)
7 This may be a reference to Boccaccio or Castiglione, but
the expression is of a proverbial character in many
languages.--Ed.
“In very truth,” said Oisille, “he who invented such a saying must be
the devil himself. Let us therefore say no more of him, but see to whom
Saffredent will give his vote.”
“To whom?” said he. “Only Parlamente now remains; but if there were a
hundred others, she should still receive my vote, as being the one from
whom we shall certainly learn something.”
“Well, since I am to end the day,” said Parlamente, “and since I
promised yesterday to tell you why Rolandine’s father built the castle
in which he kept her so long a prisoner, I will now relate it to you.”
[Illustration: 094.jpg Tailpiece]
[Illustration: 095a.jpg The Count of Jossebelin murdering his Sister’s Husband]
[The Count of Jossebelin murdering his Sister’s Husband]
[Illustration: 095.jpg Page Image]
_TALE XL_.
_The sister of the Count of Jossebelin, after marrying
unknown to her brother a gentleman whom he caused to be put
to death (albeit except for his lowlier rank he had often
desired him for his brother-in-law) did, with great patience
and austerity of life, spend the remainder of her days in a
hermitage_. (1)
This lord, who was the father of Rolandine and was called the Count of
Jossebelin, had several sisters, some of whom were married to wealthy
husbands, others becoming nuns, whilst one, who was beyond comparison
fairer than all the rest, dwelt unwedded in his house. (2)
1 The events here narrated would have occurred in or about
1479.--L.
2 The so-called Count of Jossebelin is John II., Viscount
de Rohan, previously referred to in Tale XXI. He was the son
of Alan IX., Vicount of Rohan, by his second wife, Mary of
Lorraine. Alan, by a first marriage with Margaret of
Brittany, had three daughters, Jane, Margaret and Catherine,
all three of whom were married advantageously. Contrary to
Queen Margaret’s assertion above, none of them became nuns;
Alan may, however, have had illegitimate daughters who took
the veil. By his second wife he had a son, John II., and a
daughter christened Catherine, like her half-sister. She
died unmarried, says Anselme’s _Histoire Généalogique_ (vol.
iv. p. 57), and would appear to be the heroine of Queen
Margaret’s tale.--L. and B. J.
And so dearly did she love her brother that he, for his part, preferred
her even to his wife and children.
She was asked in marriage by many of good estate, but her brother would
never listen to them through dread of losing her, and also because he
loved his money too well. She therefore spent a great part of her life
un-wedded, living very virtuously in her brother’s house. Now there was
a young and handsome gentleman who had been reared from childhood in
this same house, and who, growing in comeliness and virtue as well as in
years, had come to have a complete and peaceful rule over his master,
in such sort that whenever the latter desired to give any charge to his
sister he always did so by means of this young gentleman, (3) and he
allowed him so much influence and intimacy, sending him morning and
evening to his sister, that at last a great love sprang up between the
two.
3 This is possibly a Count of Keradreux, whom John II. is
known to have put to death, though the Breton and French
chroniclers do not relate the circumstances of the crime.--
See_post_, p. 100, note 4.--Ed.
But as the gentleman feared for his life if he should offend his master,
and the lady feared also for her honour, their love found gladness in
speech alone, until the Lord of Jossebelin had often said to his sister
that he wished the gentleman were rich and of as good a house as her
own, for he had never known a man whom he would so gladly have had for
his brother-in-law.
He repeated these sayings so often that, after debating them together,
the lovers concluded that if they wedded one another they would readily
be forgiven. Love, which easily believes what it desires, persuaded them
that nothing but good could come of it; and in this hope they celebrated
and consummated the marriage without the knowledge of any save a priest
and certain women.
After they had lived for a few years in the delight that man and woman
can have together in marriage, and as one of the handsomest and most
loving couples in Christendom, Fate, vexed to find two persons so
much at their ease, would no longer suffer them to continue in it, but
stirred up against them an enemy, who, keeping watch upon the lady, came
to a knowledge of her great happiness, and, ignorant the while of her
marriage, went and told the Lord of Jossebelin that the gentleman in
whom he had so much trust, went too often to his sister’s room, and that
moreover at hours when no man should enter it. This the Count would
not at first believe for the trust that he had in his sister and in the
gentleman.
But the other, like one careful for the honour of the house, repeated
the charge so often that a strict watch was set, and the poor folk,
who suspected nothing, were surprised. For one evening the Lord of
Jossebelin was advised that the gentleman was with his sister, and,
hastening thither, found the poor love-blinded pair lying in bed
together. His anger at the sight robbed him of speech, and, drawing
his sword, he ran after the gentleman to kill him. But the other, being
nimble of body, fled in nothing but his shirt, and, being unable to
escape by the door, leaped through a window into the garden.
Then the poor lady, clad only in her chemise, threw herself upon her
knees before her brother and said to him--
“Sir, spare the life of my husband, for I have indeed married him;
and if you are offended punish only me, for what he did was done at my
request.”