risks; and if they do win of the same favours, and high privileges and
much wealth, yet do they buy all these at a great price.
I have heard tell of a very fair lady, honourable and of a good house,
though not of so great an one as a certain great Lord, who was deep in
love with her. One day having found the lady in her chamber alone with
her women, and seated on her bed, after some converse betwixt them and
sundry conceits concerning love, the Lord did proceed to kiss the lady
and did by gentle constraint lay her down upon the bed. Anon coming to
the main issue, and she enduring that same with quiet, civil firmness,
she did say thus to him: “’Tis a strange thing how you great Lords
cannot refrain you from using your authority and privileges upon us
your inferiors. At the least, if only silence were as common with you
as is freedom of speech, you would be but too desirable and excusable.
I do beg you therefore, Sir! to hold secret what you do, and keep mine
honour safe.”
Such be the words customarily employed by ladies of inferior station to
their superiors. “Oh! my Lord,” they cry, “think at any rate of mine
honour.” Others say, “Ah! my dear Lord, an if you speak of this, I am
undone; in Heaven’s name safeguard mine honour.” Others again, “Why!
my good Lord! if only you do say never a word and mine honour be safe,
I see no great objection,” as if wishing to imply thereby a man may do
what he please, an if it be in secret. So other folk know naught about
it, they deem themselves in no wise dishonoured.
Ladies of higher rank and more proud station do say to their gallants,
if inferior to themselves: “Be you exceeding careful not to breathe one
word of the thing, no matter how small. Else it is a question of your
life; I will have you thrown in a sack into the water, or assassinated,
or hamstrung;” such and suchlike language do they hold. In fact there
is never a lady, of what rank soever she be, that will endure to be
evil spoke of or her good name discussed however slightly in the Palace
or in men’s mouths. Yet are there some others which be so ill-advised,
or desperate, or entirely carried away of love, as that without men
bringing any charge against them, they do traduce their own selves. Of
such sort was, no long while agone, a very fair and honourable lady,
of a good house, with the which a great Lord did fall deep in love,
and presently enjoying her favours, did give her a very handsome and
precious bracelet. This she was so ill-advised as to wear commonly on
her naked arm above the elbow. But one day her husband, being to bed
with her, did chance to discover the same; and examining it, found
matter enough therein to cause him to rid him of her by a violent
death. A very foolish and ill-advised woman truly!
I knew at another time a very great and sovereign Prince who after
keeping true to a mistress, one of the fairest ladies of the Court,
by the space of three years, at the end of that time was obliged to go
forth on an expedition for to carry out some conquest. Before starting,
he did of a sudden fall deep in love with a very fair and honourable
Princess, if ever there was one. Then for to show her he had altogether
quitted his former mistress for her sake, and wishing to honour and
serve her in every way, without giving a second thought to the memory
of his old love, he did give her before leaving all the favours,
jewels, rings, portraits, bracelets and other such pretty things which
his former mistress had given him. Some of these being seen and noted
of her, she came nigh dying of vexation and despite; yet did she not
refrain from divulging the matter; for if only she could bring ill
repute on her rival, she was ready to suffer the same scandal herself.
I do believe, had not the said Princess died some while after, that the
Prince, on his coming back from abroad, would surely have married her.
I knew yet another Prince,[79] though not so great an one, which
during his first wife’s lifetime and during his widowhood, did come to
love a very fair and honourable damsel of the great world, to whom he
did make, in their courting and love time, most beautiful presents,
neck-chains, rings, jewels and many other fine ornaments, and amongst
others a very fine and richly framed mirror wherein was set his own
portrait. Well! presently this same Prince came to wed a very fair and
honourable Princess of the great world, who did make him lose all taste
for his first mistress, albeit neither fell aught below the other for
beauty. The Princess did then so work upon and strongly urge the Prince
her husband, as that he did anon send to demand back of his former
mistress all he had ever given her of fairest and most rich and rare.
This was a very sore chagrin to the lady; yet was she of so great and
high an heart, albeit she was no Princess, though of one of the best
houses in France, as that she did send him back all that was most fair
and exquisite, wherein was a beautiful mirror with the picture of the
said Prince. But first, for to decorate the same still better, she did
take a pen and ink, and did scrawl inside a great pair of horns for
him right in the mid of the forehead. Then handing the whole to the
gentleman, the Prince’s messenger, she spake thuswise to him: “Here,
my friend, take this to your master, and tell him I do hereby send him
back all he ever gave me, and that I have taken away nor added naught,
unless it be something he hath himself added thereto since. And tell
yonder fair Princess, his wife, which hath worked on him so strongly
to demand back all his presents of me, that if a certain great Lord
(naming him by name, and myself do know who it was) had done the like
by her mother, and had asked back and taken from her what he had many a
time and oft given her for sleeping with him, by way of love gifts and
amorous presents, she would be as poor in gewgaws and jewels as ever
a young maid at Court. Tell her, that for her own head, the which is
now so loaded at the expense of this same Lord and her mother’s belly,
she would then have to go scour the gardens every morning for to pluck
flowers to deck it withal, instead of jewelry. Well! let her e’en make
what show and use she will of them; I do freely give them up to her.”
Any which hath known this fair lady will readily understand she was
such an one as to have said as much; and herself did tell me she did,
and very free of speech she aye was. Yet could she not fail but feel it
sore, whether from husband or wife, to be so ill treated and deceived.
And the Princess was blamed of many folk, which said ’twas her own
fault, to have so despitefully used and driven her to desperation the
poor lady, the which had well earned such presents by the sweat of her
body.
This lady, for that she was one of the most beautiful and agreeable
women of her time, failed not, notwithstanding she had so sacrificed
her virtue to this Prince, to make a good marriage with a very rich
man, though not her equal in family. So one day, the twain being come
to mutual reproaches as to the honour they had done each the other in
marrying, and she making a point of the high estate she was of and yet
had married him, he did retort, “Nay! but I have done more for you than
you have done for me; for I have dishonoured myself for to recover your
honour for you;” meaning to infer by this that, whereas she had lost
hers when a girl, he had won it back for her, by taking her to wife.
I have heard tell, and I ween on good authority, how that, after King
Francis I. had quitted Madame de Chasteaubriand, his most favourite
mistress, to take Madame d’Etampes, Helly by her maiden name, whom the
Queen Regent had chosen for one of her Maids of Honour and did bring to
the King’s notice on his return from Spain to Bordeaux,—and he did take
her for his mistress, and left the aforesaid Madame de Chasteaubriand,
as they say one nail doth drive out another,—his new mistress Madame
d’Etampes, did beg the King to have back from the Chasteaubriand all
the best jewels which he had given her. Now this was in no wise for
the price or value of the same, for in those days pearls and precious
stones had not the vogue they have since gotten, but for liking of
the graceful mottoes[80*] which had been set, imprinted and engraven
thereon, the which the Queen of Navarre, his sister, had made and
composed; for she was a past mistress of this art. So King Francis
did grant her prayer, and promising he would do this, was as good as
his word. To this end he did send one of his gentlemen to her for to
demand their return, but she on the instant did feign herself sick
and appointed the gentleman to come again in three days’ time, when
he should have what he craved. Meantime, in her despite, she did send
for a goldsmith, and had him melt down all the jewels, without any
regard or thought of the dainty devices which were engraven thereon.
Then anon, when the messenger was returned, she did give him all the
ornaments converted and changed into gold ingots. “Go, carry this,” she
said, “to the King, and tell him that, as it hath pleased his Majesty
to ask back what he did erst so generously give me, I do now return
and send back the same in gold ingots. As for the mottoes and devices,
these I have so well conned over and imprinted on my mind, and do hold
them so dear, as that I could in no wise suffer any other should use or
enjoy the same and have delight therein but myself.”
When the King had received the whole, ingots and message and all, he
made no other remark but only this, “Nay! give her back the whole. What
I was for doing, ’twas not for the worth of the gold (for I would have
gladly given her twice as much), but for liking of the devices and
mottoes; but seeing she hath so destroyed these, I care not for the
gold, and do return it her again. Herein hath she shown more greatness
and boldness of heart than ever I had dreamed could come of a woman.”
A noble-spirited lady’s heart, chagrined so and scorned, is capable of
great things.
These Princes which do so recall their presents act much otherwise
than did once Madame de Nevers, of the house of Bourbon, daughter
of M. de Montpensier.[81*] This same was in her day a very prudent,
virtuous and beautiful Princess, and held for such both in France and
Spain, in which latter country she had been brought up along with Queen
Elisabeth of France, being her cup-bearer and giving her to drink;
for it must be known this Queen was aye served by her gentlewomen,
dames and damsels, and each had her rank and office, the same as we
Courtiers in attendance on our Kings. This Princess was married to
the Comte d’Eu, eldest son of M. de Nevers, she worthy of him as he
was right well worthy of her, being one of the handsomest and most
pleasing Princes of his time. For which cause was he much loved and
sought after of many fair and noble ladies of the Court, amongst others
of one which was both this, and a very adroit and clever woman to
boot. Now it befell one day that the Prince did take a ring from off
his wife’s finger, a very fine one, a diamond worth fifteen hundred
or mayhap two thousand crowns, the which the Queen of Spain had given
her on her quitting her Court. This ring the Prince, seeing how his
mistress did admire it greatly and did show signs of coveting its
possession, being very free-handed and generous, did frankly offer her,
giving her to understand he had won the same at tennis. Nor did she
refuse the gift, but taking it as a great mark of affection, did always
wear it on her finger for love of him. And thus Madame de Nevers,
who did understand from her good husband that he had lost the ring at
tennis, or at any rate that it was lying pawned, came presently to
see the same on the hand of her rival, whom she was quite well aware
was her husband’s mistress. Yet was she so wise and prudent and had
such command of herself, as that, merely changing colour somewhat and
quietly dissembling her chagrin, without any more ado she did turn her
head another way, and did breathe never a word of the matter either to
her husband or his mistress. Herein was she much to be commended, for
that she did show no cross-grained, vixenish temper, nor anger, nor yet
expose the younger lady to public scorn, as not a few others I wot of
would have done, thus delighting the company and giving them occasion
for gossip and scandal-mongering.
Thus we see how necessary is moderation in such matters and how
excellent a thing, as also that here no less than elsewhere doth luck
and ill-luck prevail. For some ladies there be which cannot take one
step aside or make the very smallest stumble in the path of virtue,
or taste of love but with the tip of their finger, but lo! they be
instantly traduced, exposed and satirized right and left.
Others again there be which do sail full before the wind over the sea
and pleasant waters of Venus, and with naked body and wide spread limbs
do swim with wide strokes therein, wantoning in its waves, voyaging
toward Cyprus and the Temple of Venus there and her gardens, and taking
their fill of delight in love; yet deuce a word doth any say about
them, no more than if they had never been born. Thus doth fortune
favour some and mislike others in matter of scandal-making; myself have
seen not a few examples thereof in my day, and some be found still.
In the time of King Charles was writ a lampoon at Fontainebleau, most
base and scurrilous, wherein the fellow did spare neither the Royal
Princesses nor the very greatest ladies nor any others. And verily, an
if the true author had been known, he would have found himself in very
ill case.
At Blois moreover, whenas the marriage of the Queen of Navarre was
arranged with the King, her husband, was made yet another, against
a very great and noble lady, and a most scurrilous one, whereof the
author was never discovered. But there were really some very brave and
valiant gentlemen mixed up therein, which however did carry it off very
boldly and made many loud general denials. So many others beside were
writ, as that naught else was seen whether in this reign or in that of
King Henri III.—and above all one most scurrilous one in the form of a
song, and to the tune of a _coranto_ which was then commonly danced at
Court, and hence came to be sung among the pages and lackeys on every
note, high and low.
5.
In the days of our King Henri III. was a yet worse thing done. A
certain gentleman, whom I have known both by name and person, did one
day make a present to his mistress of a book of pictures, wherein were
shown two and thirty ladies of high or middling rank about the Court,
painted in true colours, a-bed and sporting with their lovers, who were
likewise represented and that in the most natural way. Some had two or
three lovers, some more, some less; and these thirty-two ladies did
figure forth more than seven and twenty of the figures or _postures_
of Aretino, and all different. The actors were so well represented
and so naturally, as that they did seem actually to be speaking and
doing. While some were disrobed, other were shown clad in the very same
clothes, and with the same head-dresses, ornaments and weeds as they
were commonly to be seen wearing. In a word, so cunningly was the book
wrought and painted that naught could be more curious; and it had cost
eight or nine hundred crowns, and was illuminated throughout.
Now this lady did show it one day and lend it to another, her comrade
and bosom friend, which latter was much a favourite and familiar of
a great Lady that was in the book, and one of the most vividly and
vigorously represented there; so seeing how much it concerned herself,
she did give her best attention. Then being curious of all experience,
she was fain to look it over with another, a great lady, her cousin and
chiefest friend, who had begged her to afford her the enjoyment of the
sight, and who was likewise in the pictures, like the rest.
So the book was examined very curiously and with the greatest care,
leaf by leaf, without passing over a single one lightly, so that they
did spend two good hours of the afternoon at the task. The fair ladies,
far from being annoyed or angered thereat, did find good cause for
mirth therein, seeing them to admire the pictures mightily, and gaze at
them fixedly.
These two dames were bolder and more valiant and determined than one
I have heard tell of, who one day looking at this same book with
two others of her friends, so ravished with delight was she and did
enter into such an ecstasy of love and so burning a desire to imitate
these same luscious pictures, as that she cannot see out of her eyes
till the fourth page, and at the fifth did fall in a dead faint. A
terrible swoon truly! very different to that of Octavia, sister of
Cæsar Augustus, who one day hearing Virgil recite the three verses he
had writ on her dead son Marcellus (for which she did give him three
thousand crowns for the three alone) did incontinently swoon right
away. That was love indeed, but of how different a sort!
I have heard tell, in the days when I was at Court, of a great Prince
of the highest rank, old and well stricken in years, and who ever since
the loss of his wife had borne him very continently in his widowhood,
as indeed was but consistent with his high repute for sanctity of life.
At last he was fain to marry again with a very fair, virtuous and young
Princess. But seeing how for the ten years he had been a widower he
had never so much as touched a woman, and fearing to have forgot the
way of it (as though it were an art that a man may forget), and to get
a rebuff the first night of his wedlock, and perform naught of his
desire, was anxious to make a previous essay. So by dint of money he
did win over a fair young maid, a virgin like the wife he was to marry;
nay more, ’tis said he had her chosen to resemble somewhat in features
his future wife. Fortune was so kind to him that he did prove he had by
no means forgot as yet his old skill; and his essay was so successful
that, bold and happy, he did advance to his wife’s fortress, and won
good victory and high repute.
This essay was more successful than that of another gentleman whose
name I have heard, whom his father, although he was very young and much
of a simpleton, did desire should marry. Well! first of all he was
for making an essay, to know if he would be a good mate with his wife;
so for this end, some months aforehand, he did get him a pretty-faced
harlot, whom he made to come every afternoon to his father’s warren,
for ’twas summer-time, where he did frisk and make sport with the
damsel in the freshness of the green trees and a gushing fountain in
such wise that he did perform wonders. Thus encouraged, he feared no
man, but was ready enough to play the like bold part with his wife. But
the worst of it was that when the marriage night was come, and it was
time to go with his wife, lo! he cannot do a thing. Who so astonished
as the poor youth, and who so ready to cry out upon his accursed
recreant weapon, which had so missed fire in the new spot where he now
was. Finally plucking up his courage, he said thus to his wife, “My
pretty one, I cannot tell what this doth mean, for every day I have
done wonders in the warren,” and so recounted over his deeds of prowess
to her. “Let us to sleep now, and my advice is, to-morrow after dinner
I will take you thither, and you shall see very different sport.” This
he did, and his wife found him as good as his word. Hence the saying
current at Court, “Ha, ha! an if I had you in my father’s warren,
you should see what I would do!” We can only suppose that the god of
gardens, Dan Priapus, and the fauns and wanton satyrs which haunt the
woods, do there aid good fellows and favour their deeds of prowess.
Yet are not all essays alike, nor do all end favorably. For in matter
of love, I have both seen and heard tell of not a few good champions
which have failed to remember their lessons and keep their engagements
when they came to the chief task of all. For while some be either
too hot or too cold, in such wise that these humours, of ice or of
fire, do take them of a sudden, others be lost in an ecstasy to find
so sovran a treat within their arms; others again grow over fearful,
others get instantly and totally flaccid and impotent, without the
least knowing the reason why, and yet others find themselves actually
paralysed. In a word there be so many unexpected accidents which may
occur just at the wrong moment, that if I were to tell them all, I
should not have done for ages. I can only refer me to many married
folk and other amateurs of love, who can say an hundred times more
of all this than I. Now such essays be good for the men, but not for
the women. Thus I have heard tell of a mother, a lady of quality, who
holding very dear an only daughter she had, and having promised the
same in marriage to an honourable gentleman, avant que de l’y faire
entrer et craignant qu’elle ne pût souffrir ce premier et dur effort,
à quoi on disait le gentilhomme être très rude et fort proportionné,
elle la fit essayer premièrement par un jeune page qu’elle avait, assez
grandet, une douzaine de fois, disant qu’il n’y avait que la première
ouverture fâcheuse à faire et que, se faisant un peu douce et petite
au commencement, qu’elle endurerait la grande plus aisément; comme il
advint, et qu’il y put avoir de l’apparence. Cet essai est encore bien
plus honnête et moins scandaleux qu’un qui me fut dit une fois, en
Italie, d’un père qui avait marié son fils, qui était encore un jeune
sot, avec une fort belle fille à laquelle, tant fat qu’il était, il
n’avait rien pu faire ni la première ni la seconde nuit de ses noces;
et comme il eut demandé et au fils et à la nore comme ils se trouvaient
en mariage et s’ils avaient triomphé, ils répondirent l’un et l’autre:
“_Niente_.—A quoi a-t-il tenu?” demanda à son fils. Il répondit tout
follement qu’il ne savait comment il fallait faire. Sur quoi il prit
son fils par une main et la nore par une autre et les mena tous deux en
une chambre et leur dit: “Or je vous veux donc montrer comme il faut
faire.” Et fit coucher sa nore sur un bout de lit, et lui fait bien
élargir les jambes, et puis dit à son fils: “Or vois comment je fais,”
et dit à sa nore: “Ne bougez, non importe, il n’y a point de mal.”
Et en mettant son membre bien arboré dedans, dit: “Avise bien comme
je fais et comme je dis, _Dentro fuero, dentro fuero_,” et répliqua
souvent ces deux mots en s’avançant dedans et reculant, non pourtant
tout dehors. Et ainsi, après ces fréquentes agitations et paroles,
_dentro_ et _fuero_, quand ce vint à la consommation, il se mit à dire
brusquement et vite: _Dentro, dentro, dentro, dentro_, jusqu’à ce qu’il
eût fait. Au diable le mot de _fuero_. Et par ainsi, pensant faire du
magister, il fut tout à plat adultère de sa nore, laquelle, ou qu’elle
fit de la niaise ou, pour mieux dire, de la fine, s’en trouva très bien
pour ce coup, voire pour d’autres que lui donna le fils et le père et
tout, possible pour lui mieux apprendre sa leçon, laquelle il ne lui
voulut pas apprendre à demi ni à moitié, mais à perfection. Aussi toute
leçon ne vaut rieu autrement.
I have heard many enterprising and successful Lovelaces declare how
that they have often seen ladies in these faints and swoonings, yet
always readily coming to again afterward. Many women, they said, do cry
out: “Alackaday! I am a-dying!”—but ’tis, I ween, a mighty agreeable
sort of death. Others there be which do turn back their eyes in their
head for excess of pleasure, as if about to expire outright, and let
themselves go absolutely motionless and insensible. Others I have been
told do so stiffen and spasmodically contract their nerves, arteries
and limbs, as that they do bring on cramp; as one lady I have heard
speak of, which was so subject thereto she could never be cured.