“I promise you, my lord, that if you are in love with virtue as it
beseems a lord like yourself to be, I will assist your efforts with all
the strength that God has given me.”
“Now, madam,” said my Lord of Avannes, “remember your promise, and
consider also that God, whom man knows by faith alone, deigned to take
a fleshly nature like that of the sinner upon Himself, in order that, by
drawing our flesh to the love of His humanity, He might at the same time
draw our spirits to the love of His divinity, thus making use of visible
means to make us in all faith love the things which are invisible. In
like manner this virtue, which I would fain love all my life long, is
a thing invisible except in so far as it produces outward effects, for
which reason it must take some bodily shape in order to become known
among men. And this it has done by clothing itself in your form, the
most perfect it could find. I therefore recognise and own that you are
not only virtuous but virtue itself; and now, finding it shine beneath
the veil of the most perfect person that was ever known, I would fain
serve it and honour it all my life, renouncing for its sake every other
vain and vicious love.”
The lady, who was no less pleased than surprised to hear these words,
concealed her happiness and said--
“My lord, I will not undertake to answer your theology, but since I am
more ready to apprehend evil than to believe in good, I will entreat you
to address to me no more such words as lead you to esteem but lightly
those who are wont to believe them. I very well know that I am a woman
like any other and imperfect, and that virtue would do a greater thing
by transforming me into itself than by assuming my form--unless, indeed,
it would fain pass unrecognised through the world, for in such a garb as
mine its real nature could never be known. Nevertheless, my lord, with
all my imperfections, I have ever borne to you all such affection as
is right and possible in a woman who reverences God and her honour. But
this affection shall not be declared until your heart is capable of that
patience which a virtuous love enjoins. At that time, my lord, I shall
know what to say, but meanwhile be assured that you do not love your own
welfare, person and honour as I myself love them.”
The Lord of Avannes timorously and with tears in his eyes entreated her
earnestly to seal her words with a kiss, but she refused, saying that
she would not break for him the custom of her country.
While this discussion was going on the husband came in, and my Lord of
Avannes said to him--
“I am greatly indebted, father, both to you and to your wife, and I pray
you ever to look upon me as your son.”
This the worthy man readily promised.
“And to seal your love,” said the Lord of Avannes, “I pray you let me
kiss you.” This he did, after which the Lord of Avannes said--:
“If I were not afraid of offending against the law, I would do the same
to your wife and my mother.”
Upon this, the husband commanded his wife to kiss him, which she
did without appearing either to like or to dislike what her husband
commanded her. But the fire that words had already kindled in the poor
lord’s heart, grew fiercer at this kiss which had been so earnestly
sought for and so cruelly denied.
After this the Lord of Avannes betook himself to the castle to see his
brother, the King, to whom he told fine stories about his journey to
Montferrat. He found that the King was going to Oly and Taffares, (5)
and, reflecting that the journey would be a long one, he fell into deep
sadness, and resolved before going away to try whether the virtuous lady
were not better disposed towards him than she appeared to be.
5 Evidently Olite and Tafalla, the former at thirty and the
latter at twenty-seven miles from Pamplona. The two towns
were commonly called _la flor de Navarra_. King John
doubtless intended sojourning at the summer palaces which
his predecessor Carlos the Noble had built at either
locality, and which were connected, it is said, by a gallery
a league in length. Some ruins of these palaces still exist.
--Ed.
He therefore went to lodge in the street in which she lived, where he
hired an old house, badly built of timber. About midnight he set fire to
it, and the alarm, which spread through the whole town, reached the rich
man’s house. He asked from the window where the fire was, and hearing
that it was in the house of the Lord of Avannes, immediately hastened
thither with all his servants. He found the young lord in the street,
clad in nothing but his shirt, whereat in his deep compassion he took
him in his arms, and, covering him with his own robe, brought him home
as quickly as possible, where he said to his wife, who was in bed--
“Here, sweetheart, I give this prisoner into your charge. Treat him as
you would treat myself.”
As soon as he was gone, the Lord of Avannes, who would gladly have been
treated like a husband, sprang lightly into the bed, hoping that place
and opportunity would bring this discreet lady to a different mind; but
he found the contrary to be the case, for as he leaped into the bed on
one side, she got out at the other. Then, putting on her dressing-gown,
she came up to the head of the bed and spoke as follows--
“Did you think, my lord, that opportunity could influence a chaste
heart? Nay, just as gold is tried in the furnace, so a chaste heart
becomes stronger and more virtuous in the midst of temptation, and
grows colder the more it is assailed by its opposite. You may be sure,
therefore, that had I been otherwise minded than I professed myself to
be, I should not have wanted means, to which I have paid no heed solely
because I desire not to use them. So I beg of you, if you would have me
preserve my affection for you, put away not merely the desire but even
the thought that you can by any means whatever make me other than I am.”
While she was speaking, her women came in, and she commanded a collation
of all kinds of sweetmeats to be brought; but the young lord could
neither eat nor drink, in such despair was he at having failed in his
enterprise, and in such fear lest this manifestation of his passion
should cost him the familiar intercourse that he had been wont to have
with her.
Having dealt with the fire, the husband came back again, and begged the
Lord of Avannes to remain at his house for the night. This he did,
but in such wise that his eyes were more exercised in weeping than in
sleeping. Early in the morning he went to bid them farewell, while they
were still in bed; and in kissing the lady he perceived that she felt
more pity for the offence than anger against the offender, and thus was
another brand added to the fire of his love. After dinner, he set out
for Taffares with the King; but before leaving he went again to take
yet another farewell of his good father and the lady who, after her
husband’s first command, made no difficulty in kissing him as her son.
But you may be sure that the more virtue prevented her eyes and features
from testifying to the hidden flame, the fiercer and more intolerable
did that flame become. And so, being unable to endure the war between
love and honour, which was waging in her heart, but which she had
nevertheless resolved should never be made apparent, and no longer
having the comfort of seeing and speaking to him for whose sake alone
she cared to live, she fell at last into a continuous fever, caused by a
melancholic humour which so wrought upon her that the extremities of her
body became quite cold, while her inward parts burned without ceasing.
The doctors, who have not the health of men in their power, began to
grow very doubtful concerning her recovery, by reason of an obstruction
that affected the extremities, and advised her husband to admonish her
to think of her conscience and remember that she was in God’s hands--as
though indeed the healthy were not in them also.
The husband, who loved his wife devotedly, was so saddened by their
words that for his comfort he wrote to the Lord of Avannes entreating
him to take the trouble to come and see them, in the hope that the sight
of him might be of advantage to the patient. On receiving the letter,
the Lord of Avannes did not tarry, but started off post-haste to the
house of his worthy father, where he found the servants, both men and
women, assembled at the door, making such lament for their mistress as
she deserved.
So greatly amazed was he at the sight, that he remained on the threshold
like one paralysed, until he beheld his good father, who embraced him,
weeping the while so bitterly that he could not utter a word. Then he
led the Lord of Avannes to the chamber of the sick lady, who, turning
her languid eyes upon him, put out her hand and drew him to her with
all the strength she had. She kissed and embraced him, and made wondrous
lamentation, saying--
“O my lord, the hour has come when all dissimulation must cease, and I
must confess the truth which I have been at such pains to hide from you.
If your affection for me was great, know that mine for you has been no
less; but my grief has been greater than yours, because I have had the
anguish of concealing it contrary to the wish of my heart. God and my
honour have never, my lord, suffered me to make it known to you, lest
I should increase in you that which I sought to diminish; but you must
learn that the ‘no’ I so often said to you pained me so greatly in the
utterance that it has indeed proved the cause of my death.
“Nevertheless, I am glad it should be so, and that God in His grace
should have caused me to die before the vehemence of my love has stained
my conscience and my fair fame; for smaller fires have ere now destroyed
greater and stronger structures. And I am glad that before dying I have
been able to make known to you that my affection is equal to your own,
save only that men’s honour and women’s are not the same thing. And
I pray you, my lord, fear not henceforward to address yourself to the
greatest and most virtuous of ladies; for in such hearts do the deepest
and discreetest passions dwell, and moreover, your own grace and beauty
and worth will not suffer your love to toil without reward.
“I will not beg you, my lord, to pray God for me, because I know full
well that the gate of Paradise is never closed against true lovers, and
that the fire of love punishes lovers so severely in this life here
that they are forgiven the sharp torment of Purgatory. And now, my lord,
farewell; I commend to you your good father, my husband. Tell him the
truth as you have heard it from me, that he may know how I have loved
God and him. And come no more before my eyes, for I now desire to think
only of obtaining those promises made to me by God before the creation
of the world.”
With these words she kissed him and embraced him with all the strength
of her feeble arms. The young lord, whose heart was as nearly dead
through pity as hers was through pain, was unable to say a single word.
He withdrew from her sight to a bed that was in the room, and there
several times swooned away.
Then the lady called her husband, and, after giving him much virtuous
counsel, commended the Lord of Avannes to him, declaring that next to
himself she had loved him more than any one upon earth, and so, kissing
her husband, she bade him farewell. Then, after the extreme unction, the
Holy Sacrament was brought to her from the altar, and this she received
with the joy of one who is assured of her salvation. And finding that
her sight was growing dim and her strength failing her, she began to
utter the “In manus” aloud.
Hearing this cry, the Lord of Avannes raised himself up on the bed where
he was lying, and gazing piteously upon her, beheld her with a gentle
sigh surrender her glorious soul to Him from whom it had come. When he
perceived that she was dead, he ran to the body, which when alive he had
ever approached with fear, and kissed and embraced it in such wise that
he could hardly be separated from it, whereat the husband was greatly
astonished, for he had never believed he bore her so much affection; and
with the words, “Tis too much, my lord,” he led him away.
After he had lamented for a great while, the Lord of Avannes related all
the converse they had had together during their love, and how, until her
death, she had never given him sign of aught save severity. This, while
it gave the husband exceeding joy, also increased his grief and sorrow
at the loss he had sustained, and for the remainder of his days he
rendered service to the Lord of Avannes.
But from that time forward my Lord of Avannes, who was then only
eighteen years old, went to reside at Court, where he lived for many
years without wishing to see or to speak with any living woman by reason
of his grief for the lady he had lost; and he wore mourning for her sake
during more than ten years. (6)
6 Some extracts from Brantôme bearing on this story will be
found in the Appendix, C.
“You here see, ladies, what a difference there is between a wanton lady
and a discreet one. The effects of love are also different in each case;
for the one came by a glorious and praiseworthy death, while the other
lived only too long with the reputation of a vile and shameless woman.
Just as the death of a saint is precious in the sight of God, so is the
death of a sinner abhorrent.”
“In truth, Saffredent,” said Oisille, “you have told us the finest tale
imaginable, and any one who knew the hero would deem it better still.
I have never seen a handsomer or more graceful gentleman than was this
Lord of Avannes.”
“She was indeed a very virtuous woman,” said Saffredent. “So as to
appear outwardly more virtuous than she was in her heart, and to conceal
her love for this worthy lord which reason and nature had inspired,
she must needs die rather than take the pleasure which she secretly
desired.”
“If she had felt such a desire,” said Parlamente, “she would have lacked
neither place nor opportunity to make it known; but the greatness of her
virtue prevented her desire from exceeding the bounds of reason.”
“You may paint her as you will,” said Hircan, “but I know very well that
a stronger devil always thrusts out the weaker, and that the pride of
ladies seeks pleasure rather than the fear and love of God. Their robes
are long and well woven with dissimulation, so that we cannot tell what
is beneath, for if their honour were not more easily stained than ours,
(7) you would find that Nature’s work is as complete in them as in
ourselves. But not daring to take the pleasure they desire, they have
exchanged that vice for a greater, which they deem more honourable, I
mean a self-sufficient cruelty, whereby they look to obtain everlasting
renown.
7 This reading is borrowed from MS. No. 1520. In the MS.
mainly followed for this translation, the passage runs as
follows-“if their honour were not more easily stained than
their hearts.”--L.
By thus glorying in their resistance to the vice of Nature’s law--if,
indeed, anything natural be vicious--they become not only like inhuman
and cruel beasts, but even like the devils whose pride and subtility
they borrow.” (8)
8 This reading is borrowed from MS. No. 1520. In our MS.
the passage runs--“like the devils whose semblance and
subtility they borrow.”--L.
“Tis a pity,” said Nomerfide, “that you should have an honourable wife,
for you not only think lightly of virtue, but are even fain to prove
that it is vice.”
“I am very glad,” said Hircan, “to have a wife of good repute, just
as I, myself, would be of good repute. But as for chastity of heart, I
believe that we are both children of Adam and Eve; wherefore, when we
examine ourselves, we have no need to cover our nakedness with leaves,
but should rather confess our frailty.”
“I know,” said Parlamente, “that we all have need of God’s grace, being
all steeped in sin; but, for all that, our temptations are not similar
to yours, and if we sin through pride, no one is injured by it, nor
do our bodies and hands receive a stain. But your pleasure consists in
dishonouring women, and your honour in slaying men in war--two things
expressly contrary to the law of God.” (9)
“I admit what you say,” said Geburon, “but God has said, ‘Whosoever
looketh with lust, hath already committed adultery in his heart,’ and
further, ‘Whosoever hateth his neighbour is a murderer.’ (10) Do you
think that women offend less against these texts than we?”
9 This sentence, defective in our MS., is taken from No.
1520.--L.