“You think it strange that a Princess, bred in all honour, should prove
difficult of capture to one man. You should then be much more astonished
at a poor woman who escaped out of the hands of two.”
“Geburon,” said Ennasuite, “I give my vote to you to tell the fifth
tale, for I think you know something concerning this poor woman that
will not be displeasing to us.”
“Since you have chosen me,” said Geburon, “I will tell you a story which
I know to be true from having made inquiries concerning it on the spot.
By this story you will see that womanly sense and virtue are not in the
hearts and heads of Princesses alone, nor love and cunning in such as
are most often deemed to possess them.”
[Illustration: 094.jpg Tailpiece]
[Illustration: 095a.jpg The Boatwoman of Coulon outwitting the Friars]
[The Boatwoman of Coulon outwitting the Friars]
[Illustration: 095.jpg Page Image]
_TALE V._
_Two Grey Friars, when crossing the river at the haven of
Coulon, sought to ravish the boatwoman who was taking them
over. She, however, being virtuous and Clever, so beguiled
them with words that, whilst promising to grant their
request, she deceived them and handed them over to justice.
They were then delivered up to their warden to receive such
punishment as they deserved_.
At the haven of Coulon,(1) near Nyort, there lived a boatwoman who, day
or night, did nothing but convey passengers across the ferry.
1 The village of Coulon, in Poitou (department of the Deux-
Sèvres), lies within seven miles of Niort, on the Niortaise
Sevre, which at this point is extremely wide.--L.
Now it chanced that two Grey Friars from Nyort were crossing the river
alone with her, and as the passage is one of the longest in France, they
began to make love to her, that she might not feel dull by the way. She
returned them the answer that was due; but they, being neither fatigued
by their journeying, nor cooled by the water, nor put to shame by her
refusal, determined to take her by force, and, if she clamoured, to
throw her into the river. She, however, was as virtuous and clever as
they were gross and wicked, and said to them--
“I am not so ill-disposed as I seem to be, but I pray you grant me two
requests. You shall then see that I am more ready to give than you are
to ask.”
The friars swore to her by their good St. Francis that she could ask
nothing that they would not grant in order to have what they desired of
her.
“First of all,” she said, “I require you both to promise on oath that
you will inform no man living of this matter.” This they promised right
willingly.
“Then,” she continued, “I would have you take your pleasure with me one
after the other, for it would be too great a shame for me to have to do
with one in presence of the other. Consider which of you will have me
first.”
They deemed her request a very reasonable one, and the younger friar
yielded the first place to the elder. Then, as they were drawing near a
little island, she said to the younger one--
“Good father, say your prayers here until I have taken your companion to
another island. Then, if he praises me when he comes back, we will leave
him here, and go away in turn together.”
The younger friar leapt out on to the island to await the return of his
comrade, whom the boat-woman took away with her to another island.
When they had reached the bank she said to him, pretending the while to
fasten her boat to a tree--
“Look, my friend, and see where we can place ourselves.”
The good father stepped on to the island to seek for a convenient spot,
but no sooner did she see him on land than she struck her foot against
the tree and went off with her boat into the open stream, leaving both
the good fathers to their deserts, and crying out to them as loudly as
she could--
“Wait now, sirs, till the angel of God comes to console you; for you
shall have nought that could please you from me to-day.”
The two poor monks, perceiving that they had been deceived, knelt down
at the water’s edge and besought her not to put them to such shame; and
they promised that they would ask nothing of her if she would of her
goodness take them to the haven. But, still rowing away, she said to
them--
“I should be doubly foolish if, after escaping out of your hands, I were
to put myself into them again.”
When she had come to the village, she went to call her husband and the
ministers of justice that they might go and take these fierce wolves,
from whose fangs she had by the grace of God escaped. They set out
accompanied by many people, for there was no one, big or little, but
wished to share in the pleasure of this chase.
When the poor brethren saw such a large company approaching, they hid
themselves each in his island, even as Adam did when he perceived his
nakedness in the presence of God.(2) Shame set their sin clearly before
them, and the fear of punishment made them tremble so that they were
half dead. Nevertheless, they were taken prisoners amid the mockings and
hootings of men and women.
Some said, “These good fathers preach chastity to us and then rob our
wives of theirs.” (3)