_Giletta a Phisition’s daughter of Narbon, healed the French King
of a Fistula, for reward whereof she demaunded Beltramo Counte of
Rossiglione to husband. The Counte being maried against his will,
for despite fled to Florence and loued another. Giletta his wife,
by pollicie founde meanes to lye with her husbande, in place of his
louer, and was begotten with childe of two sonnes: which knowen to
her husband, he receiued her againe, and afterwards he liued in great
honour and felicitie._
In Fraunce there was a gentleman called Isnardo, the Counte of
Rossiglione, who because he was sickely and diseased, kepte alwayes in
his house a Phisition, named maister Gerardo of Narbona. This Counte had
one onely sonne called Beltramo, a very yonge childe, amiable and fayre.
With whom there was nourished and brought vppe, many other children of
his age: amonges whom one of the doughters of the said Phisition, named
Giletta, who feruently fill in loue with Beltramo, more then was meete
for a maiden of her age. This Beltramo, when his father was deade, and
left vnder the royall custody of the king, was sente to Paris, for whose
departure the maiden was very pensife. A litle while after, her father
being likewise deade, shee was desirous to go to Paris, onelye to see
the yonge Counte, if for that purpose she could get any good occasion.
But being diligently loked vnto by her kinsfolke (because she was riche
and fatherlesse) she could see no conuenient waye for her intended
iourney: and being now mariageable, the loue she bare to the Counte was
neuer out of her remembraunce, and refused manye husbandes with whom her
kinsfolke woulde haue matched her, without making them priuie to the
cause of her refusall. Now it chaunced that she burned more in loue with
Beltramo than euer shee did before, because she hearde tell that hee was
growen to the state of a goodly yong gentleman. She heard by report,
that the French king had a swelling vpon his breast, which by reason of
ill cure was growen to be a Fistula, which did put him to marueilous
paine and griefe, and that there was no Phisition to be found (although
many were proued) that could heale it, but rather did impaire the griefe
and made it worse and worse. Wherfore the king, like one in dispaire,
would take no more counsell or helpe. Wherof the yong mayden was
wonderfull glad, thinckinge to haue by this meanes, not onely a lawfull
occasion to go to Paris, but if the disease were such (as she supposed,)
easelye to bringe to passe that shee mighte haue the Counte Beltramo to
her husbande. Whereuppon with such knowledge as she had learned at her
father’s hands before time, shee made a pouder of certaine herbes, which
she thought meete for that disease and rode to Paris. And the first
thing she went about when she came thither was to see the Counte
Beltramo. And then she repayred to the king, praying his grace to
vouchsafe to shew her his griefe. The king perceyuing her to be a fayre
yonge maiden and a comelie, would not hide it, but opened the same vnto
her. So soone as shee saw it shee put him in comforte, that shee was
able to heale him, saying: “Sir, if it maye please your grace, I truste
in God without anye greate paine vnto your highnesse, within eighte
dayes to make you whole of this disease.” The king hearing her say so,
began to mocke her, saying: “How is it possible for thee, beinge a yong
woman, to do that which the beste renowmed Phisitions in the world can
not?” Hee thancked her for her good will and made her a direct
aunsweare, that hee was determined no more to followe the counsaile of
any Phisition. Whereunto the maiden aunsweared: “Sir, you dispise my
knowledge because I am yonge and a woman, but I assure you that I do not
minister Phisicke by profession, but by the aide and helpe of God: and
with the cunninge of maister Gerardo of Narbona, who was my father, and
a Phisition of great fame so longe as he liued.” The king hearing those
words, sayd to himselfe: “This woman peraduenture, is sente vnto me of
God, and therefore why should I disdaine to proue her cunninge? for so
muche as she promiseth to heale me within a litle spac, without any
offence or griefe vnto me.” And being determined to proue her, he said:
“Damosel, if thou doest not heale me, but make me to breake my
determination, what wilt thou shal folow therof.” “Sir,” said the
maiden: {“}Let me be kept in what guard and keeping you list: and if I
do not heale you within these eight dayes, let me be burnt: but if I do
heale your grace what recompence shall I haue then?” To whom the kinge
aunswered: “Because thou art a maiden and vnmaried, if thou heale me
according to thy promise, I wil bestow thee vppon some gentleman, that
shalbe of right good worship and estimation.” To whom she aunsweared:
“Sir, I am very well content that you bestow me in mariage: but I
beseech your grace let me haue such a husband as myselfe shall demaund,
without presumption to any of your children or other of your bloud.”
Which request the king incontinently graunted. The yong maiden began to
minister her Phisicke, and in short space before her appointed time, she
had throughly cured the king. And when the king perceiued himselfe
whole, said vnto her: “Thou hast well deserued a husbande (Giletta) euen
such a one as thy selfe shalt chose.” “I haue then my Lord (quoth she)
deserued the Countie Beltramo of Rossiglione, whom I haue loued from my
youth.” The king was very loth to graunt him vnto her: but for that he
had made a promise which he was loth to breake, he caused him to be
called forth, and said vnto him: “Sir Countie, knowing full well that
you are a gentleman of great honour, oure pleasure is, that you returne
home to your owne house to order your estate according to your degree:
and that you take with you a Damosell which I haue appointed to be your
wife.” To whom the Countie gaue his humble thanks, and demaunded what
she was? “It is she (quoth the king) that with her medecines hath healed
me.” The Counte knew her wel and had already seen her, although she was
faire, yet knowing her not to be of a stocke conuenable to his nobility,
skornefully said vnto the king, “Will you then (sir) giue me a Phisition
to wife? It is not the pleasure of God that euer I should in that wise
bestow my selfe.” To whom the king said: “Wilt thou then, that wee
should breake our faith, which wee to recouer health haue giuen to the
damosell, who for a reward asked thee to husband?” “Sir (quoth Beltramo)
you may take from me all that I haue, and giue my person to whom you
please because I am your subiect: but I assure you I shal neuer be
contented with that mariage.” “Wel, you shall haue her, (said the king)
for the maiden is faire and wise, and loueth you most intirely: thinking
verely you shal leade a more ioyful life with her, then with a Lady of a
greater house.” The Countie therewithal held his peace, and the kinge
made great preparation for the mariage. And when the appointed day was
come, the counte in the presence of the king (although it were against
his wil) maried the maiden, who loued him better then her owne selfe.
Which done, the Counte determining before what he would do, praied
licence to retourne to his countrye to consummat the mariage. And when
he was on horsebacke hee went not thither but toke his iourney into
Tuscane, where vnderstanding that the Florentines and Senois were at
warres, he determined to take the Florentines parte, and was willingly
receiued and honourablie intertaigned, and was made captaine of a
certaine nomber of men, continuing in their seruice a long time. The new
maried gentlewoman, scarce contented with his vnkindnes, hopinge by her
well doinge to cause him to retourne into his countrye, went to
Rossiglione, where she was receiued of all his subiects for their Lady.
And perceyuing that through the Countes absence all thinges were spoiled
and out of order, shee like a sage Ladye, with greate diligence and
care, disposed his thinges in order againe: whereof the subiects
reioysed very much, bearing to her their harty loue and affection,
greatly blaming the Counte because he coulde not content himselfe with
her. This notable gentlewoman hauing restored all the countrie againe to
their auncient liberties, sent word to the Counte her husband, by two
knights, to signifie vnto him, that if it were for her sake that hee had
abandoned his countrie, vppon retourne of aunsweare, she to do him
pleasure, would departe from thence. To whom he chorlishly replyed: “Let
her do what she liste: for I do purpose to dwell with her, when she
shall haue this ring (meaning a ring which he wore) vpon her finger, and
a sonne in her armes begotten by mee.” He greatly loued that ring, and
kepte it very carefully, and neuer toke it from his finger, for a
certaine vertue that he knew it had. The knights hearinge the harde
condition of two thinges impossible: and seinge that by them he could
not be remoued from his determination, retourned againe to the Lady,
tellinge her his aunsweare: who, very sorowfull, after shee had a good
while bethoughte her, purposed to finde meanes to attaine the two
thinges, that thereby she might recouer her husbande. And hauinge
aduised her selfe what to doe, shee assembled the noblest and chiefeste
of her Countrie, declaring vnto them in lamentable wyse what shee had
alreadye done, to winne the loue of the Counte, shewinge them also what
folowed thereof. And in the ende saide vnto theim, that shee was lothe
the Counte for her sake should dwell in perpetuall exile: therefore shee
determined to spende the reste of her time in Pilgrimages and deuotion,
for preseruation of her Soule, prayinge theim to take the charge and
gouernemente of the Countrie, and that they would let the Counte
vnderstande, that shee had forsaken his house, and was remoued farre
from thence: with purpose neuer to returne to Rossiglione againe. Many
teares were shed by the people, as she was speaking those wordes, and
diuers supplications were made vnto him to alter his opinion, but all in
vaine. Wherefore commending them all vnto God, she toke her way with her
maide, and one of her kinsemen, in the habite of a pilgrime, well
furnished with siluer and precious Jewels: telling no man whither shee
wente, and neuer rested till shee came to Florence: where arriuinge by
Fortune at a poore widowes house, shee contented her selfe with the
state of a poore pilgrime, desirous to heare newes of her Lord, whom by
fortune she sawe the next day passing by the house (where she lay) on
horsebacke with his company. And althoughe shee knewe him well enoughe,
yet shee demaunded of the good wife of the house what hee was: who
aunsweared that hee was a straunge gentleman, called the Counte Beltramo
of Rossiglione, a curteous knight, and wel beloued in the City, and that
he was maruelously in loue with a neighbour of her’s, that was a
gentlewoman, verye poore and of small substance, neuerthelesse of right
honest life and good report, and by reason of her pouerty was yet
vnmaried, and dwelte with her mother, that was a wise and honest Ladye.
The Countesse well noting these wordes, and by litle and litle debating
euery particular point thereof, comprehending the effecte of those
newes, concluded what to do, and when she had well vnderstanded which
was the house, and the name of the Ladye, and of her doughter that was
beloued of the Counte: vppon a day repaired to the house secretely in
the habite of a pilgrime, where finding the mother and doughter in poore
estate amonges their familie, after she had saluted them, told the
mother that shee had to saye vnto her. The gentlewoman rysing vp,
curteously intertayned her, and being entred alone in a chamber, they
sate downe and the Countesse began to speake vnto her in this wise.
“Madame, me thincke that ye be one vpon whom Fortune doth frowne, so wel
as vpon me: but if you please, you may both comfort me and your selfe.”
The lady answered, “That there was nothing in the world wherof she was
more desirous then of honest comfort.” The Countesse proceeding in her
talke, said vnto her. “I haue neede now of your fidelitie and truste,
whereuppon if I do staye, and you deceiue mee, you shall both vndoe me
and your selfe.” “Tell me then what it is hardlie (said the
gentlewoman:) for you shall neuer bee deceiued of mee.” Then the
Countesse beganne to recite her whole estate of loue: tellinge her what
she was, and what had chaunced to that present daye, in such perfite
order as the gentlewoman beleeuinge her, because shee had partly heard
report before; began to haue compassion vppon her, and after that the
Countesse had rehearsed the whole circumstaunce, she continued her
purpose, saying: “Now you haue heard amonges other my troubles, what two
things they bee, which behoueth mee to haue, if I doe recouer my
husband, which I know none can helpe me to obtaine, but onelye you, if
it be true that I heare, which is, that the Counte my husband, is farre
in loue with your doughter.” To whom the gentlewoman sayd: “Madame, if
the Counte loue my doughter, I knowe not, albeit the likelyhoode is
greate: but what am I able to doe, in that which you desire?” “Madame,
aunsweared the Countesse, I will tell you: but first I will declare what
I meane to doe for you, if my purpose be brought to effecte: I see your
faire doughter of good age, readie to marie, but as I vnderstande the
cause, why shee is vnmaried, is the lacke of substance to bestowe her.
Wherefore I purpose, for recompence of the pleasure, which you shall doe
for mee, to giue so much readie money to marie her honourablie, as you
shall thincke sufficient.” The Countesse’ offer was very well liked of
the Ladie, because she was poore: yet hauing a noble hart, she said vnto
her. “Madame, tell me wherein I may do you seruice: and if it be a
thinge honest, I will gladlye performe it, and the same being brought to
passe, do as it shall please you.” Then said the Countesse: “I thincke
it requisite, that by some one whom you truste, you giue knowledge to
the Counte my husband, that your doughter is, and shalbe at his
commaundement: and to the intent she may be well assured that hee loueth
her in deede aboue anye other, she must pray him to sende her a ring
that hee weareth vppon his finger, which ring as she knoweth, he loueth
very dearely: and when he sendeth the ringe, you shal giue it vnto me,
and afterwards sende him woorde, that your doughter is readie to
accomplishe his pleasure, and then you shall cause him secretelye to
come hither, and place me by him (in steede of your doughter)
peraduenture God will giue me the grace, that I may be with child, and
so hauing this ring on my finger, and the childe in mine armes begotten
by him, I maye recouer him, and by your meanes continue with him, as a
wife ought to do with her husbande.” This thinge seemed difficulte vnto
the Gentlewoman: fearing that there woulde folowe reproche vnto her
doughter. Notwithstandinge, considering what an honest part it were, to
be a meane that the good Ladie might recouer her husbande, and that shee
mighte doe it for a good purpose, hauinge affiaunce in her honest
affection, not onely promised the Countesse to bring this to passe, but
in fewe dayes with greate subtiltie, folowing the order wherein she was
instructed, she had gotten the ringe, although it was with the Countes
ill will, and toke order that the Countesse in steede of her doughter
did lye with him. And at the first meeting, so effectuously desired by
the Counte: God so disposed the matter that the Countesse was begotten
with child, of two goodly sonnes, and her deliuery chaunced at the due
time. Whereuppon the gentlewoman, not onelye contented the Countesse at
that time with the companye of her husbande, but at manye other times so
secretly as it was neuer knowen: the Counte not thinkinge that he had
lien with his wife, but with her whom he loued. To whom at his vprising
in the morning, he vsed many curteous and amiable woords, and gaue
diuers faire and precious Jewels, which the Countesse kept most
carefully: and when she perceiued herselfe with child, she determined no
more to trouble the gentlewoman, but said vnto her. “Madame, thanckes be
to God and you, I haue the thing that I desire, and euen so it is time
to recompence your desert, that afterwards I may depart.” The
gentlewoman said vnto her, that if she had done anye pleasure agreeable
to her minde, she was right glad thereof which she did, not for hope of
reward, but because it appertayned to her by well doing so to doe.
Whereunto the Countesse said: “Your sayinge pleaseth me well, and for my
part, I doe not purpose to giue vnto you the thing you shal demaunde in
reward, but for consideration of your well doing, which dutie forceth me
to do.” The gentlewoman then constrained with necessity, demaunded of
her with great bashfulnesse, an hundred poundes to marie her daughter.
The countesse perceiuinge the shamefastnesse of the gentlewoman, and her
curteous demaunde, gaue her fiue hundred poundes, and so many faire and
costly Jewels, as almost amounted to like valour. For which the
gentlewoman more then contented, gaue most harty thankes to the
Countesse, who departed from the gentlewoman and retourned to her
lodging. The gentlewoman to take occasion from the Counte of anye
farther repaire, or sendinge to her house, toke her doughter with her,
and went into the country to her frends. The Counte Beltramo, within
fewe dayes after, being reuoked home to his owne house by his subiectes,
(hearinge that the Countesse was departed from thence) retourned. The
Countesse knowinge that her husbande was goone from Florence and
retourned home, was verye gladde, continuing in Florence till the time
of her childbedde, being brought a bedde of twoo sonnes, whiche were
very like vnto their father, and caused them carefully to be noursed and
brought vp, and when she sawe time, she toke her iourney (vnknowen to
anie) and arriued at Montpellier, and resting her selfe there for
certayne dayes, hearing newes of the Counte, and where he was, and that
vpon the daye of Al Sainctes, he purposed to make a great feaste, and
assembly of Ladies and Knightes, in her pilgrimes weede she repaired
thither. And knowing that they were all assembled, at the palace of the
Counte, readie to sitte downe at the table, shee passed through the
people without chaunge of apparell, with her twoo sonnes in her armes:
and when shee was come vp into the hall, euen to the place where the
Counte sat, falling downe prostrate at his feete, weeping, saying vnto
hym: “My Lorde, I am thy poore infortunate wyfe, who to th’intent thou
mightest retourne and dwel in thine owne house, haue bene a great whyle
begging aboute the worlde. Therefore I nowe beseche thee, for the
honoure of God, that thou wilt obserue the conditions, which the twoo
(knightes that I sent vnto thee) did commaunde me to doe: for beholde,
here in myne armes, not onely one sonne begotten by thee, but twayne,
and likwyse thy Ryng. It is nowe time then (if thou kepe promise) that I
should be receiued as thy wyfe.” The Counte hearing this, was greatly
astonned, and knewe the Ryng, and the children also, they were so like
hym. “But tell me (quod he) howe is this come to passe?” The Countesse
to the great admiration of the Counte, and of all those that were in
presence, rehersed vnto them in order all that, whiche had bene done,
and the whole discourse thereof. For which cause the Counte knowing the
thinges she had spoken to be true (and perceiuing her constant minde and
good witte, and the twoo faire young boyes to kepe his promise made, and
to please his subiectes, and the Ladies that made sute vnto him, to
accept her from that tyme foorth as his lawefull wyfe, and to honour
her) abiected his obstinate rigour: causing her to rise vp, and imbraced
and kissed her, acknowledging her againe for his lawefull wyfe. And
after he had apparelled her according to her estate, to the great
pleasure and contentation of those that were there, and of al his other
frendes not onely that daye, but many others, he kept great chere, and
from that time forth, hee loued and honoured her, as his dere spouse and
wyfe.