“I pray you, sir, deceive not yourself in seeking to deceive me; for
although you said nothing when you came, I knew very well that you were
here.”
Then the gentleman saw that they had both been deceived, and solemnly
vowed to her that he had not been with her before; whereat the lady,
weeping in dire distress, besought him to find out with all despatch
who it could have been, seeing that besides themselves only his
brother-in-law and the Friar slept in the house.
Impelled by suspicion of the Friar, the gentleman forthwith went in
all haste to the room where he had been lodged, and found it empty;
whereupon, to make yet more certain whether he had fled, he sent for the
man who kept the door, and asked him whether he knew what had become of
the Friar. And the man told him the whole truth.
The gentleman, being now convinced of the Friar’s wickedness, returned
to his wife’s room, and said to her--
“Of a certainty, sweetheart, the man who lay with you and did such fine
things was our Father Confessor.”
The lady, who all her life long had held her honour dear, was
overwhelmed with despair, and laying aside all humanity and womanly
nature, besought her husband on her knees to avenge this foul wrong;
whereupon the gentleman immediately mounted his horse and went in
pursuit of the Friar.
The lady remained all alone in her bed, with no counsel or comfort near
her but her little newborn child. She reflected upon the strange and
horrible adventure that had befallen her, and, without making any excuse
for her ignorance, deemed herself guilty as well as the unhappiest woman
in the world. She had never learned aught of the Friars, save to have
confidence in good works, and seek atonement for sins by austerity of
life, fasting and discipline; she was wholly ignorant of the pardon
granted by our good God through the merits of His Son, the remission of
sins by His blood, the reconciliation of the Father with us through His
death, and the life given to sinners by His sole goodness and mercy; and
so, assailed by despair based on the enormity and magnitude of her sin,
the love of her husband and the honour of her house, she thought that
death would be far happier than such a life as hers. And, overcome by
sorrow, she fell into such despair that she was not only turned aside
from the hope which every Christian should have in God, but she forgot
her own nature, and was wholly bereft of common sense.
Then, overpowered by grief, and driven by despair from all knowledge of
God and herself, this frenzied, frantic woman took a cord from the bed
and strangled herself with her own hands.
And worse even than this, amidst the agony of this cruel death, whilst
her body was struggling against it, she set her foot upon the face
of her little child, whose innocence did not avail to save it from
following in death its sorrowful and suffering mother. While dying,
however, the infant uttered so piercing a cry that a woman who slept
in the room rose in great haste and lit the candle. Then, seeing her
mistress hanging strangled by the bed-cord, and the child stifled and
dead under her feet, she ran in great affright to the apartment of her
mistress’s brother, and brought him to see the pitiful sight.
The brother, after giving way to such grief as was natural and fitting
in one who loved his sister with his whole heart, asked the serving-woman
who it was that had committed this terrible crime.
She replied that she did not know; but that no one had entered the room
excepting her master, and he had but lately left it. The brother then
went to the gentleman’s room, and not finding him there, felt sure that
he had done the deed. So, mounting his horse without further inquiry,
he hastened in pursuit and met with him on the road as he was returning
disconsolate at not having been able to overtake the Grey Friar.
As soon as the lady’s brother saw his brother-in-law, he cried out to
him--
“Villain and coward, defend yourself, for I trust that God will by this
sword avenge me on you this day.”
The gentleman would have expostulated, but his brother-in-law’s sword
was pressing so close upon him that he found it of more importance to
defend himself than to inquire the reason of the quarrel; whereupon
each dealt the other so many wounds that they were at last compelled by
weariness and loss of blood to sit down on the ground face to face.