“If, ladies, princes and gentlemen are not spared, the Grey Friars, it
seems to me, are highly honoured by being noticed. They are so useless
that, were it not that they often do evil things worthy of remembrance,
they would never even be mentioned; and, as the saying goes, it is
better to do evil than to do nothing at all. Besides, the more varied
the flowers the handsomer will our posy be.”
“If you will promise not to be angry with me,” said Hircan, “I will tell
you the story of a great lady whose wantonness was so extreme that you
will forgive the poor friar for having taken what he needed, where
he was able to find it, seeing that she, who had enough to eat,
nevertheless sought for dainties in too monstrous a fashion.”
“Since we have sworn to speak the truth,” said Oisille, “we have also
sworn to hear it. You may therefore speak with freedom, for the evil
things that we tell of men and women are not uttered to shame those
that are spoken of in the story, but to take away all trust in created
beings, by revealing the trouble to which these are liable, and this to
the end that we may fix and rest our hope on Him alone who is perfect,
and without whom every man is only imperfection.”
“Well then,” said Hircan, “I will relate my story without fear.”
[Illustration: 218.jpg Tailpiece]
[Illustration: 219a.jpg The Countess facing her Lovers]
[The Countess facing her Lovers]
[Illustration: 219.jpg Page Image]
_TALE XLIX_.
_Same French gentlemen, perceiving that the King their
master was exceedingly well treated by a foreign Countess
whom he loved, ventured to speak to her, and sought her with
such success, that one after another they had from her what
they desired, each, however, believing that he alone
possessed the happiness in which all the others shared. And
this being discovered by one of their number, they all
plotted together to be revenged on her; but, as she showed a
fair countenance and treated them no worse than before, they
brought away in their own bosoms the shame which they had
thought to bring upon her_. (1)
At the Court of King Charles--which Charles I shall not mention, for the
sake of the lady of whom I wish to speak, and whom I shall not call
by her own name--there was a Countess of excellent lineage, (2) but
a foreigner. And as novelties ever please, this lady, both for the
strangeness of her attire and for its exceeding richness, was observed
by all. Though she was not to be ranked among the most beautiful, she
possessed gracefulness, together with a noble assurance that could not
be surpassed; and, moreover, her manner of speech and her seriousness
were to match, so that there was none but feared to accost her excepting
the King, who loved her exceedingly. That he might have still more
intimate converse with her, he gave some mission to the Count, her
husband, which kept him away for a long time, and meanwhile the King
made right good cheer with his wife.
1 The incidents here related must have occurred during the
reign of Charles VIII., probably in or about 1490.--L.
2 This Countess cannot be identified. She was probably the
wife of one of the many Italian noblemen, like the
Caraccioli and San Severini, who entered the French service
about the time of the conquest of Naples. Brantôme alludes
to the story in his _Dames Galantes_ (Fourth Discourse) but
gives no names.--Ed.
Several of the King’s gentlemen, knowing that their master was well
treated by her, took courage to speak to her, and among the rest was one
called Astillon, (3) a bold man and graceful of bearing.
3 This is James de Chastillon, not, however, J. Gaucher de
Chastillon, “King of Yvetot,” as M. de Lincy supposes, but
J. de Coligny-Chastillon, as has been pointed out by M.
Frank. Brantôme devotes the Nineteenth Discourse of his
_Capitaines françois_ to this personage, and says: “He had
been one of the great favourites and _mignons_ of King
Charles VIII., even at the time of the journey to the
kingdom of Naples; and ‘twas then said, ‘Chastillon,
Bourdillon and Bonneval [see post, note 5] govern the royal
blood.’” Wounded in April 1512 at the battle of Ravenna,
“the most bloody battle of the century,” he was removed to
Ferrara, where he died (May 25). He was the second husband
of Blanche de Tournon, Lady of Honour to Queen Margaret,
respecting whom see _ante_, vol. i. pp. 84-5, 122-4, and
vol. iv. p. 144, note 2.--L., F. and Ed.
At first she treated him so seriously, threatening to tell of him to the
King his master, that he well-nigh became afraid of her. However, as
he had not been wont to fear the threats even of the most redoubtable
captains, he would not suffer himself to be moved by hers, but pressed
her so closely that she at last consented to speak with him in private,
and taught him the manner in which he should come to her apartment.
This he failed not to do, and, in order that the King might be without
suspicion of the truth, he craved permission to go on a journey, and
set out from the Court. On the very first day, however, he left all his
following and returned at night to receive fulfilment of the promises
that the Countess had made him. These she kept so much to his
satisfaction, that he was content to remain shut up in a closet for five
or six days, without once going out, and living only on restoratives.
During the week that he lay in hiding, one of his companions called
Durassier (4) made love to the Countess. At the beginning she spoke to
this new lover, as she had spoken to the first, with harsh and haughty
speech that grew milder day by day, insomuch that when the time was come
for dismissing the first prisoner, she put the second into his place.
While he was there, another companion of his, named Valnebon, (5) did
the same as the former two, and after these there came yet two or three
more to lodge in the sweet prison.
4 This in all probability is the doughty James Galliot de
Genouillac, who--much in the same way as in our own times
the names of the “Iron Duke” and the “Man of Iron” have been
bestowed on Wellington and Bismarck--was called by his
contemporaries the “Seigneur d’Acier” or “Steel Lord,”
whence “Durassier”--hard steel. Born in Le Quercy in or
about 1466, Genouillac accompanied Charles VIII. on his
Italian expeditions, and, according to Brantôme, surpassed
all others in valour and influence. He greatly distinguished
himself at the battle of Fornova (1495), and in 1515 we find
him one of the chief commanders of the French artillery. For
the great skill he displayed at Marignano he was appointed
Grand Master of the Artillery and Seneschal of Armagnac, and
he subsequently became Grand Equerry of France. At Pavia,
where he again commanded the artillery, he would have swept
away the Spaniards had not the French impetuously charged
upon them, preventing him from firing his pieces. Most of
the latter he contrived to save, severe as was the defeat,
and he effectually protected the retreat of the Duke of
Alençon and the Count of Clermont into France. Genouillac
died in 1546, a year after he had been appointed Governor of
Languedoc.--B. J. and Ed.
5 Valnebon is an anagram of the name Bonneval, and Queen
Margaret evidently refers here to a member of the Bonneval
family. In the time of Charles VIII. this illustrious
Limousin house had two principal members, Anthony, one of
the leading counsellors of that king (as of his predecessor
Louis XI. and his successor Louis XII.), and Germain, also a
royal counsellor and chamberlain. The heroes of the above
story being military men and old friends and comrades, it is
probable that the reference is to Germain de Bonneval, he,
like Chastillon and Genouillac, having accompanied Charles
VIII. on his expedition into Italy. Germain de Bonneval,
moreover, was one of the seven noblemen who fought at the
battle of Fornova, clad and armed exactly like the French
king. He perished at the memorable defeat of Pavia in 1525.
From him descended, in a direct line, the famous eighteenth
century adventurer, Claud Alexander, Count de Bonneval.--B.
J. and Ed.
This manner of life continued for a long time, and was so skilfully
contrived that none of the lovers knew aught of the others; and although
they were aware of the love that each of them bore the lady, there
was not one but believed himself to be the only successful suitor, and
laughed at his comrades who, as he thought, had failed to win such great
happiness.
One day when the gentlemen aforesaid were at a banquet where they made
right good cheer, they began to speak of their several fortunes and of
the prisons in which they had lain during the wars. Valnebon, however,
who found it a hard task to conceal the great good fortune he had met
with, began saying to his comrades--
“I know not what prisons have been yours, but for my own part, for love
of one wherein I once lay, I shall all my life long give praise and
honour to the rest. I think that no pleasure on earth comes near that of
being kept a prisoner.”
Astillon, who had been the first captive, had a suspicion of the prison
that he meant, and replied--
“What gaoler, Valnebon, man or woman, treated you so well that you
became so fond of your prison?”
“Whoever the gaoler may have been,” said Valnebon, “my prisonment was
so pleasant that I would willingly have had it last longer. Never was I
better treated or more content.”
Durassier, who was a man of few words, clearly perceived that they were
discussing the prison in which he had shared like the rest; so he said
to Valnebon--
“On what meats were you fed in the prison that you praise so highly?”
“What meats?” said Valnebon. “The King himself has none better or more
nourishing.”
“But I should also like to know,” said Durassier, “whether your keeper
made you earn your bread properly?”
Valnebon, suspecting that he had been understood, could not hold from
swearing.
“God’s grace!” said he. “Had I indeed comrades where I believed myself
alone?”
Perceiving this dispute, wherein he had part like the rest, Astillon
laughed and said--
“We all serve one master, and have been comrades and friends from
boyhood; if, then, we are comrades in the same good fortune, we can but
laugh at it. But, to see whether what I imagine be true, pray let me
question you, and do you confess the truth to me; for if that which I
fancy has befallen us, it is as amusing an adventure as could be found
in any book.”
They all swore to tell the truth if the matter were such as they could
not deny.