knew, who on one occasion having made assignation with her lover to
come and stay with her, in a twinkling he did accomplish three good
embraces with her. But thereafter, he wishing to do a fourth and make
his number yet complete, she did urge him with prayers and commands
to get up and retire. He, as fresh as at first, would fain renew the
combat, and doth promise he would fight furiously all that night long
till dawn of day, declaring that for so little as had gone by, his
vigour was in no wise diminished. But she did reply: “Be satisfied I
have recognized your doughtiness and good dispositions. They are right
fair and good, and at a better time and place I shall know very well
how to take better advantage of them than at this present. For naught
but some small illhap is lacking for you and me to be discovered.
Farewell then till a better and more secure occasion, and then right
freely will I put you to the great battle, and not to such a trifling
encounter as this.”
Many dames there be would not have shown this much prudency, but
intoxicate with pleasure, seeing they had the enemy already on the
field, would have had him fight till dawn of day.
The same honourable lady which I spake of before these last, was of
such a gallant humour that when the caprice was on her, she had never
a thought or fear of her husband, albeit he was a ready swordsman and
quick at offence. Natheless hath she alway been so fortunate as that
neither she nor her lovers have ever run serious risks of their lives
or come near being surprised, by dint of careful posting of guards and
good and watchful sentinels.
Still it behoves not ladies to trust too much to this, for one unlucky
moment is all that is needed to ruin all,—as happened some while since
to a certain brave and valiant gentleman[7] who was massacred on his
way to see his mistress by the treachery and contrivance of the lady
herself, the which her husband made her devise against him. Alas! if
he had not entertained so high a presumption of his own worth and
valour as he rightly did, he would have kept better guard, and would
never have fallen,—more’s the pity! A capital example, verily, not to
trust over much to amorous dames, who to escape the cruel hand of their
husbands, do play such a game as these order them, as did the lady in
this case, who saved her own life,—at the sacrifice of her lover’s.
Other husbands there be who kill the lady and the lover both together
as I have heard it told of a very great lady whose husband was jealous
of her, not for any offence he had certain knowledge of, but out of
mere suspiciousness and mistaken zeal of love. He did his wife to death
with poison and wasting sickness,—a grievous thing and an exceeding
sad, after having first slain the lover, a good and honourable man,
declaring that the sacrifice was fairer and more agreeable to kill the
bull first, and the cow afterwards.
This same Prince was more cruel to his wife than he was later to one of
his daughters, the which he had married to a great Prince, though not
so great an one as himself was, he being indeed a monarch in all but
name.
It fell out to this fickle dame to be gotten with child by another than
her husband, who was at the time busied afar in some War. Presently,
having been brought to bed of a fine child, she wist not to what Saint
to make appeal, if not to her father; so to him she did reveal all
by the mouth of a gentleman she had trust in, whom she sent to him.
No sooner had he hearkened to his confidence than he did send and
charge her husband that, for his life, he should beware to make no
essay against that of his daughter, else would he do the same against
his, and make him the poorest Prince in Christendom, the which he was
well able to accomplish. Moreover he did despatch for his daughter a
galley with a meet escort to fetch to him the child and its nurse,
and providing a good house and livelihood, had the boy nourished and
brought up right well. But when after some space of time the father
came to die, thereupon the husband put her to death and so did punish
her for her faithlessness at last.
I have heard tell of another husband who did to death the lover before
the eyes of his wife, causing him to languish in long pain, to the end
she might die in a martyr’s agony to see the lingering death of him she
had so loved and had held within her arms.
Yet another great nobleman did kill his wife openly before the whole
Court.[8] For the space of fifteen years he had granted the same all
liberty, and had been for long while well aware of her ill ways, having
many a time and oft remonstrated thereat and admonished her. However
at the last a sudden caprice took him (’tis said at the instance of a
great Prince, his master), and on a certain morning he did visit her as
she still lay abed, but on the point of rising. Then, after lying with
her, and after sporting and making much mirth together, he did give her
four or five dagger thrusts. This done, he bade a servant finish her,
and after had her laid on a litter, and carried openly before all the
Court to his own house, to be there buried. He would fain have done the
like to her paramours; but so would he have had overmuch on his hands,
for that she had had so many they might have made a small army.
I have heard speak likewise of a certain brave and valiant Captain,[9]
who conceiving some suspicion of his wife, went straight to her
without more ado and strangled her himself with his own hands, in her
white girdle. Thereafter he had her buried with all due honour, and
himself was present at her obsequies in mourning weeds and of a very
sad countenance, the which mourning he did continue for many a long
day,—verily a noble satisfaction to the poor lady, as if a fine funeral
could bring her to life again! Moreover he did the same by a damosel
which had been in waiting on his wife and had aided and abetted her
in her naughtiness. Nor yet did he die without issue by this same
wife, for he had of her a gallant son, one of the bravest and foremost
soldiers of his country, who by virtue of his worth and emprise did
reach great honour as having served his Kings and masters right well.
I have heard likewise of a nobleman in Italy which also slew his wife,
not being able to catch her gallant who had escaped into France. But it
is said he slew her, not so much because of her sin,—for that he had
been ware of for a long time, how she indulged in loose love and took
no heed for aught else,—as in order to wed another lady of whom he was
enamoured.
Now this is why it is very perilous to assail and attack an armed and
defended spot,—not but that there be as many of this sort assailed
and right well assailed as of unarmed and undefended ones, yea! and
assailed victoriously to boot. For an example whereof, I know of one
that was as well armed and championed as any in all the world. Yet, was
there a certain gentleman, in sooth a most brave and valiant soldier,
who was fain to hanker after the same; nay! he was not content with
this, but must needs pride himself thereon and bruit his success
abroad. But it was scarce any time at all before he was incontinently
killed by men appointed to that end, without otherwise causing scandal,
and without the lady’s suffering aught therefrom. Yet was she for long
while in sore fear and anguish of spirit, seeing that she was then with
child and firmly believing that after her bringing to bed, the which
she would full fain have seen put off for an hundred years, she would
meet the like fate. But the husband showed himself a good and merciful
man,—though of a truth he was one of the keenest swordsmen in all the
world,—and freely pardoned her; and nothing else came of it, albeit
divers of them that had been her servants were in no small affright.
However the one victim paid for all. And so the lady, recognizing the
goodness and graciousness of such an husband, gave but very little
cause for suspicion thereafter, for that she joined herself to the
ranks of the more wise and virtuous dames of that day.
It fell out very different not many years since in the Kingdom of
Naples to Donna Maria d’Avalos, one of the fair Princesses of that land
and married to the Prince of Venusia, who was enamoured of the Count
d’Andriane, likewise one of the noble Princes of the country. So being
both of them come together to enjoy their passion, and the husband
having discovered it,—by means whereof I could render an account,
but the tale would be over long,—having insooth surprised them there
together, had the twain of them slain by men appointed thereto. In such
wise that next morning the fair and noble pair, unhappy beings, were
seen lying stretched out and exposed to public view on the pavement in
front of the house door, all dead and cold, in sight of all passers-by,
who could not but weep and lament over their piteous lot.
Now there were kinsfolk of the said lady, thus done to death, who
were exceeding grieved and greatly angered thereat, so that they were
right eager to avenge the same by death and murder, as the law of that
country doth allow. But for as much as she had been slain by base-born
varlets and slaves who deserved not to have their hands stained with so
good and noble blood, they were for making this point alone the ground
of their resentment and for this seeking satisfaction from the husband,
whether by way of justice or otherwise,—but not so, if he had struck
the blow with his own hand. For that had been a different case, not so
imperatively calling for satisfaction.
Truly an odd idea and a most foolish quibble have we here! Whereon I
make appeal to our great orators and wise lawyers, that they tell me
this: which act is the more monstrous, for a man to kill his wife with
his own hand, the which hath so oftentimes loved and caressed her, or
by that of a base-born slave? In truth there are many good arguments to
be alleged on the point; but I will refrain me from adducing of them,
for fear they prove over weak and silly in comparison of those of such
great folk.
I have heard tell that the Viceroy, hearing of the plot that was
toward, did warn the lover thereof, and the lady to boot. But their
destiny would have it so; this was to be the issue, and no other, of
their so delightsome loves.
This lady was daughter of Don Carlo d’Avalos,[10*] second brother of
the Marquis di Pescaïra, to whom if any had played a like trick in any
of his love matters wherewith I am acquaint, be sure he would have been
dead this many a long day.
I once knew an husband, which coming home from abroad and having gone
long without sleeping with his wife, did arrive with mind made up
and glad heart to do so with her presently, and having good pleasure
thereof. But arriving by night, he did hear by his little spy, how
that she was accompanied by her lover in the bed. Thereupon did he
straight lay hand on sword, and knocked at the door; the which being
opened, he entered in resolved to kill her. After first of all hunting
for the gallant, who had escaped by the window, he came near to his
wife to kill her; but it so happened she was on this occasion so
becomingly tricked out, so featly dressed in her night attire and her
fair white shift, and so gaily decked (bear in mind she had taken all
this pretty pains with herself the better to please her lover), that
he had never found her so much to his taste. Then she, falling at his
knees, in her shift as she was, and grovelling on the ground, did ask
his forgiveness with such fair and gentle words, the which insooth she
knew right well how to set forth, that raising her up and seeing her so
fair and of so gracious mien, he felt his heart stir within him, and
dropping his sword,—for that he had had no enjoyment for many a day
and was anhungered therefor, which likely enough did stir the lady
too at nature’s prompting,—he forgave her and took and kissed her,
and put her back to bed again, and in a twinkling lay down with her,
after shutting to the door again. And the fair lady did content him so
well by her gentle ways and pretty cajoleries,—be sure she forgat not
any one of them all,—that eventually the next morning they were found
better friends than ever, and never was so much loving and caressing
between them before. As was the case likewise with King Menelaus, that
poor cuckold, the which did ever by the space of ten or twelve years
threaten his wife Helen that he would kill her, if ever he could put
hands upon her, and even did tell her so, calling from the foot of
Troy’s wall to her on the top thereof. Yet, Troy well taken, and she
fallen into his power, so ravished was he with her beauty that he
forgave her all, and did love and fondle her in better sort than ever.
So much then for these savage husbands that from lions turn into
butterflies. But no easy thing is it for any to get deliverance like
her whose case we now tell.
A lady, young, fair and noble, in the reign of King Francis I., married
to a great Lord of France, of as noble a house as is any to be found,
did escape otherwise, and in more pious fashion, than the last named.
For, whether it were she had given some cause for suspicion to her
husband, or that he was overtaken by a fit of distrust or sudden anger,
he came at her sword in hand for to kill her. But she bethought herself
instantly to make a vow to the glorious Virgin Mary, and to promise
she would to pay her said vow, if only she would save her life, at her
chapel of Loretto at St. Jean des Mauverets, in the country of Anjou.
And so soon as ever she had made this vow in her own mind, lo! the
said Lord did fall to the ground, and his sword slipped from out his
hand. Then presently, rising up again as if awaking from a dream, he
did ask his wife to what Saint she had recommended herself to escape
out of this peril. She told him it was to the Blessed Virgin, in her
afore-named Chapel, and how she had promised to visit the holy place.
Whereupon he said to her: “Go thither then, and fulfil your vow,”—the
which she did, and hung up there a picture recording the story,
together with sundry large and fair votive offerings of wax, such as
of yore were customary for this purpose, the which were there to be
seen for long time after. Verily a fortunate vow, and a right happy
and unexpected escape,—as is further set forth in the _Chronicles of
Anjou_.[11]
2.
I have heard say how King Francis[12] once was fain to go to bed with
a lady of his Court whom he loved. He found her husband sword in fist
ready to kill him; but the King straightway did put his own to his
throat, and did charge him, on his life, to do him no hurt, but if he
should do him the least ill in the world, how that he would kill him
on the spot, or else have his head cut off. So for that night did he
send him forth the house, and took his place. The said lady was very
fortunate to have found so good a champion and protector of her person,
for never after durst the husband to say one word of complaint, and so
left her to do as she well pleased.
I have heard tell how that not this lady alone, but many another
beside, did win suchlike safeguard and protection from the King.
As many folk do in War-time to save their lands, putting of the
King’s cognizance over their doors, even so do these ladies put the
countersign of their monarchs inside and out their bodies; whereby
their husbands dare not afterward say one word of reproach, who but for
this would have given them incontinently to the edge of the sword.
I have known yet other ladies, favoured in this wise by kings and
great princes, who did so carry their passports everywhere. Natheless
were there some of them, whose husbands, albeit not daring to use cold
steel to them, did yet have resort to divers poisons and secret ways
of death, making pretence these were catarrhs, or apoplexy and sudden
death. Verily such husbands are odious,—so to see their fair wives
lying by their side, sickening and dying a slow death day after day,
and do deserve death far worse than their dames. Others again do them
to death between four walls, in perpetual imprisonment. Of such we have
instances in sundry ancient Chronicles of France; and myself have known
a great nobleman of France, the which did thus slay his wife, who was
a very fair and honourable lady,—and this by judgement of the Courts,
taking an infatuate delight in having by this means his cuckoldry
publicly declared.
Among husbands of this mad and savage temper under cuckoldry, old men
hold the first place, who distrusting their own vigour and heat of
body, and bent on making sure of their wives’ virtue, even when they
have been so foolish as to marry young and beautiful ones, so jealous
and suspicious are they of the same (as well by reason of their natural
disposition as of their former doings in this sort, the which they
have either done themselves of yore or seen done by others), that
they lead the unhappy creatures so miserable a life that scarce could
Purgatory itself be in any wise more cruel.
The Spanish proverb saith: _El diablo sabe mucho, porque es viejo_,
“The devil knoweth much, because he is old”; and in like sort these old
men, by reason of their age and erstwhile habitudes, know full many
things. Thus are they greatly to be blamed on this point, for seeing
they cannot satisfy their wives, why do they go about to marry them at
all? Likewise are the women, being so fair and young, very wrong to
marry old men under temptation of wealth, thinking they will enjoy the
same after their death, the which they do await from hour to hour. And
meanwhile do they make good cheer with young gallants whom they make
friends of, for the which some of them do suffer sorely.
I have heard speak of one who, being surprised in the act, her husband,
an old man, did give her a certain poison whereby she lay sick for more
than a year, and grew dry as a stick. And the husband would go oft to
see her, and took delight in that her sickness, and made mirth thereat,
declaring she had gotten her deserts.
Yet another her husband shut her up in a room, and put her on bread
and water, and very oft would he make her strip stark naked and whip
her his fill, taking no pity on that fair naked flesh, and feeling no
compunction thereat. And truly this is the worst of them, for seeing
they be void of natural heat, and as little subject to temptation as a
marble statue, no beauty doth stir their compassion, but they satiate
their rage with cruel martyrdoms; whereas if that they were younger,
they would take their satisfaction on their victim’s fair naked body,
and so forget and forgive, as I have told of in a previous place.
This is why it is ill to marry suchlike ill-conditioned old men; for of
a truth, albeit their sight is failing and coming to naught from old
age, yet have they always enough to spy out and see the tricks their
young wives may play them.
Even so have I heard speak of a great lady who was used to say that
never a Saturday was without sun, never a beautiful woman without
amours, and never an old man without his being jealous; and indeed
everything goeth for the enfeeblement of his vigour.
This is why a great Prince whom I know was wont to say: that he would
fain be like the lion, the which, grow he as old as he may, doth never
get white; or the monkey, which, the more he performeth, the more he
hath desire to perform; or the dog, for the older he waxeth, the bigger
doth he become; or else the stag, forasmuch as the more aged he is,
the better can he accomplish his duty, and the does will resort more
willingly to him than to the younger members of the herd.
And indeed, to speak frankly, as I have heard a great personage of rank
say likewise, what reason is there, or what power hath the husband
so great that he may and ought to kill his wife, seeing he hath none
such from God, neither by His law nor yet His holy Gospel, but only to
put her away? He saith naught therein of murder, and bloodshedding,
naught of death, tortures or imprisonment, of poisons or cruelties.
Ah! but our Lord Jesus Christ did well admonish us that great wrong
was in these fashions of doing and these murders, and that He did
hardly or not at all approve thereof, whenas they brought to Him the
poor woman accused of adultery, for that He might pronounce her doom
and punishment. He said only to them, writing with His finger on the
ground: “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone
at her,”—the which not one of them all durst do, feeling themselves
touched to the quick by so wise and gentle a rebuke.
Our Creator was for teaching us all not to be so lightly ready to
condemn folk and put them to death, even on this count, well knowing
the weakness of our human Nature, and the violent errors some do commit
against it. For such an one doth cause his wife to be put to death,
who is more an adulterer than she, while others again often have their
wives slain though innocent, being aweary of them and desiring to take
other fresh ones. How many such there be! Yet doth Saint Augustine say
that the adulterous man is as much to be punished as the woman.
I have heard speak of a very great Prince, and of high place in the
world, who suspecting his wife of false love with a certain gallant
cavalier, had him assassinated as he came forth by night from his
Palace, and afterward the lady.[13*] A little while before, this latter
at a Tourney that was held at Court, after fixedly gazing at her lover
who did manage his horse right gracefully, said suddenly: “Great Lord!
how well he doth ride!” “Yea!” was the unexpected answer, “but he rides
too high an horse”; and in short time after was he poisoned by means of
certain perfumes or by some draught he swallowed by way of the mouth.
I knew a Lord of a good house who did kill his wife, the which was
very fair and of good family and lineage, poisoning her by her
private parts, without her being ware of it, so subtle and cunningly
compounded was the said poison. This did he in order to marry a great
lady who before had been wife to a Prince, without the influence and
protection of whose friends he was in sad case, exposed to imprisonment
and danger. However as his ill-luck would have it, he did not marry
her after all, but was disappointed therein and brought into very evil
repute, and ill looked at by all men and honourable ladies.
I have seen high personages greatly blame our old-time Kings, such
as Louis X. (le Hutin, the Obstinate)[14*] and Charles the Fair, for
that they did to death their wives,—the one Marguérite, daughter
of Robert Duke of Burgundy, the other Blanche, daughter of Othelin
Count of Burgundy, casting up against them their adulteries. So
did they have them cruelly done to death within the four walls of
the Château-Gaillard, as did likewise the Comte de Foix to Jeanne
d’Arthoys. Wherein was not so much guilt or such heinous crimes as they
would have had men to believe; but the truth is the said monarchs were
aweary of their wives, and so did bring up against them these fine
charges, and after did marry others.
As in yet another case, did King Henry of England have his wife put to
death and beheaded, to wit Anne Boleyn, in order to marry another, for
that he was a monarch very ready to shed blood and quick to change his
wives. Were it not better that they should divorce them, according to
God’s word, than thus cruelly cause them to be slain? But no! they must
needs ever have fresh meat these folk, who are fain to sit at table
apart without inviting any to share with them, or else to have new and
fresh wives to bring them gear after that they have wasted that of
their first spouses, or else have not gotten of these enough to satisfy
them. Thus did Baldwyn,[15] second King of Jerusalem, who making it to
be believed of his first wife that she had played him false, did put
her away, in order to take a daughter of the Duke of Malyterne,[15]
because she had a large sum of money for dowry, whereof he stood in
sore need. This is to be read in the _History of the Holy Land_.[15]
Truly it well becomes these Princes to alter the Law of God and invent
a new one, to the end they may make away with their unhappy wives!