“Do not fear to tell the truth on my account. I can more easily bear
to hear you relate your crafty tricks than to see them played before my
eyes, though none of them could lessen the love I bear you.”
“For that reason,” replied Hircan, “I make no complaint of all the false
opinions you have had of me. And so, since we understand each other,
there will be more security for the future. Yet I am not so foolish as
to relate a story of myself, the truth of which might be vexatious
to you. I will tell you one of a gentleman who was among my dearest
friends.”
[Illustration: 108.jpg Tailpiece]
[Illustration: 109.jpg The Merchant transferring his Caresses from the
Daughter to the Mother]
[The Merchant transferring his Caresses from the Daughter to the Mother]
[Illustration: 110.jpg Page Image]
_TALE VII_.
_By the craft and subtlety of a merchant an old woman was
deceived and the honour of her daughter saved_.
In the city of Paris there lived a merchant who was in love with a young
girl of his neighbourhood, or, to speak more truly, she was more in
love with him than he with her. For the show he made to her of love
and devotion was but to conceal a loftier and more honourable passion.
However, she suffered herself to be deceived, and loved him so much that
she had quite forgotten the way to refuse.
After the merchant had long taken trouble to go where he could see her,
he at last made her come whithersoever it pleased himself. Her mother
discovered this, and being a very virtuous woman, she forbade her
daughter ever to speak to the merchant on pain of being sent to a
nunnery. But the girl, whose love for the merchant was greater than her
fear of her mother, went after him more than ever.
It happened one day, when she was in a closet all alone, the merchant
came in to her, and finding himself in a place convenient for the
purpose, fell to conversing with her as privily as was possible. But
a maid-servant, who had seen him go in, ran and told the mother, who
betook herself thither in great wrath. When the girl heard her coming,
she said, weeping, to the merchant--“Alas! sweetheart, the love that I
bear you will now cost me dear. Here comes my mother, who will know for
certain what she has always feared and suspected.”
The merchant, who was not a bit confused by this accident, straightway
left the girl and went to meet the mother. Stretching out his arms, he
hugged her with all his might, and, with the same ardour with which he
had begun to entertain the daughter, threw the poor old woman on to a
small bed. She was so taken aback at being thus treated that she could
find nothing to say but--“What do you want? Are you dreaming?”
For all that he ceased not to press her as closely as if she had been
the fairest maiden in the world, and had she not cried out so loudly
that her serving-men and women came to her aid, she would have gone by
the same road as she feared her daughter was treading.
However, the servants dragged the poor old woman by main force out of
the merchant’s arms, and she never knew for what reason he had thus
used her. Meanwhile, her daughter took refuge in a house hard by where
a wedding was going on. Since then she and the merchant have ofttimes
laughed together at the expense of the old woman, who was never any the
wiser.
“By this story, ladies, you may see how, by the subtlety of a man, an
old woman was deceived and the honour of a young one saved. Any one
who would give the names, or had seen the merchant’s face and the
consternation of the old woman, would have a very tender conscience
to hold from laughing. It is sufficient for me to prove to you by this
story that a man’s wit is as prompt and as helpful at a pinch as a
woman’s, and thus to show you, ladies, that you need not fear to fall
into men’s hands. If your own wit should fail you, you will find theirs
prepared to shield your honour.”
“In truth, Hircan,” said Longarine, “I grant that the tale is a very
pleasant one and the wit great, but the example is not such as maids
should follow. I readily believe there are some whom you would fain have
approve it, but you are not so foolish as to wish that your wife, or
her whose honour you set higher than her pleasure,(1) should play such
a game. I believe there is none who would watch them more closely or
shield them more readily than you.”
1 M. Frank, adopting the generally received opinion that
Hircan is King Henry of Navarre, believes this to be an
allusion to one of the King’s sisters--Ann, who married the
Count of Estrac, or Isabel, who married M. de Rohan--but it
is more likely that Henry’s daughter, Jane d’Albret, is the
person referred to.--Ed.
“By my conscience,” said Hircan, “if she whom you mention had done such
a thing, and I knew nothing about it, I should think none the less of
her. For all I know, some one may have played as good a trick on me;
however, knowing nothing, I am unconcerned.”