a certain Marguerite, Countess of Flanders, sister of Jeanne, daughter
of Baldwin I., Emperor of the Greeks, and his successor, seeing she
had no children,—so says History. She was given in her early girlhood
a teacher named Guillaume, a man esteemed of an holy life and who had
already taken minor orders. Yet did this in no wise hinder him to get
two children of his fair pupil, which were christened Baldwin and John,
and all so privily as that few folk knew aught of the matter. The two
boys were later declared legitimate by the Pope. What fine teaching,
and what a teacher! So much for History.
I knew a great Lady at Court which had the repute of being over
familiar with her reader and teacher,—so much so indeed that one day
Chicot, the King’s jester,[92*] did openly reproach her therewith in
presence of his Majesty and many other personages of the Court, asking
her if she were not ashamed to have herself loved (saying the word
right out) of so ugly and base a loon as yonder fellow, and if she
had not wit to choose a better man. The company hereon began to laugh
uproariously and the lady to weep, supposing that the King had abetted
the game; for strokes of the sort were quite in character with his
usual play. Other very great ladies and high Princesses I have known,
which every day would amuse themselves with making their Secretaries,
whom I have likewise known, write, or rather pretend to write, and have
fine games. Or if they did not call for them to write, having naught to
say, then would they make them read aloud, for to give a better colour
to the whole thing, declaring how reading themselves did weaken their
sight.
Great ladies which do make choice of suchlike paramours be quite
inexcusable and most blameworthy, seeing they have their liberty of
action, and full freedom and opportunity to choose whom they will. But
poor girls which be abject slaves of father and mother, kinsfolk and
guardians and mistresses, and timid to boot, are constrained to pick up
any stone they can find for their purpose, never thinking whether it
be cold or hot, roast or boiled. And so, according as occasion offer,
they do generally resort to their men-servants, to their school-master
and teacher, to fellows of the artist craft, lute-players, fiddlers,
dancing masters, painters, in a word their different instructors in
knowledge and accomplishments, and even sometimes preachers of religion
and holy monks, as Boccaccio doth describe and the Queen of Navarre
in her _Nouvelles_. The like is done by pages, as myself have noted,
lackeys, and especially stage-players, with whom I have known two maids
of honour desperately in love and not scrupling to indulge the same.
Poets too I have known in some cases to have debauched fair maids,
wives and widows.
These do fondly love to be praised and worshipped, and with this bait
are caught, as indeed by almost any they do find convenient and can
attract to them. Lawyers again be very dangerous folk in these matters.
Now note why ’tis Boccaccio and other writers with him do find maids
to be more constant in love and more steadfast than wives or widows.
’Tis because they do resemble persons afloat on a river in a sinking
boat. They that cannot swim at all do spring at the first branches
they can catch hold of, and do grasp these firmly and obstinately till
they see help arrive. Others that can swim, do leap into the water and
strike out boldly till they have reached the bank. Even so young maids,
whenas they have gotten a lover, do hold and keep him steadfastly, the
one they have first chose, and will in no wise let him go, but love
him steadfastly. This cometh of the dread that, having no free choice
and proper opportunity, they may not be able, an if they lose him, to
get another such as they would wish. Whereas married women and widows,
which do know the wiles of love and are well experienced, and have full
liberty and all convenience to swim in all waters without danger, may
choose what mate they please; and if they weary of one lover or lose
him, why! they can straight get another, or even take two. For with
them ’tis ever a case of “one lost, two got back.”
Beside, young girls have not the means, the money and crown-pieces,
to win them new lovers every day; for all ever they can give their
lovers is some small gift of a lock of hair, a little seed pearl
or so, a bracelet, a small ring or a scarf, or other insignificant
presents that cost almost naught. For high-born as a girl may be (I
have seen it myself), and no matter of how great an house and how
rich an heiress, she is kept so short of money, by father, mother,
kinsfolk or guardians, as the case may be, that she simply hath not
the means to give much to her lover, nor scarce ever to untie her
purse widely,—unless it be her purse in front. Besides, girls be of
themselves miserly, if for no other reason, yet because they be forced
to it, having scarce any means of extravagance; for generosity in
giving doth rest and depend above all on the ability to gratify it. On
the contrary wives and widows can dispose of their wealth very freely,
when they have any; and above all, when they have fancied a man, and
be taken with passion and caprice for him, there is naught they will
not sell and give away to the very shift on their back, rather than not
have enjoyment of him. Herein they are just like gluttons and folk that
be slaves of their mouths, who taking a fancy to a tid-bit, must have
the same, no matter what it cost them at the market. Poor maids be in
quite other case; whatsoever they can get, be it good or bad, this must
they stop and buy.
I could bring forward a whole host of their intrigues, and their divers
appetites and curious preferences. But I should never get me done at
that rate; beside what would such tales be worth, unless the subjects
were given by name and surname. But this is a thing I will not do at
any price, for I desire to bring shame on no woman; and I have made
profession to avoid in this my book all evil-speaking whatsoever,
so that none may have aught to reproach me with on the score of
scandal-mongering. However to tell my tales, suppressing the names,
in this can be no harm. I do leave my readers to guess the persons
intended; and many a time they will suppose it to be one, though all
the while ’tis quite another.
3.
Now just as we do see different sorts of wood of such different nature,
that some will burn when quite green, as the ash and the beech, but
others, be they as dry, old and well seasoned as you please, for
instance the elm, the alder and others, do burn only as slowly and
tediously as possible, while many others, following the general nature
of all dry and old wood, do blaze up in their dryness and oldness so
rapidly and suddenly ’tis rather a destroying and instant reducing
to ashes than burning proper, so is the like true of women, whether
maids, wives or widows. Some, so soon as ever they be come to the first
greenness of their age, do burn so easily and well, you would say from
their very mother’s womb they do draw thence an amorousness; as did the
fair Laïs from her fair mother Tymandra, that most famous harlot, and
an hundred thousand others which herein do take after the good whores
their mothers. Nay! sometimes they do not so much as wait for the age
of maturity, that may be put at twelve or thirteen, to begin loving,
but are at it sooner yet. This happened not twelve years agone at Paris
to a pastry-cook’s child, which was discovered to be pregnant at nine
years of age.[93] The girl being very sick with her pregnancy, and her
father having taken a specimen of her urine to a physician, the latter
said at once she had no other sickness but only that she was with
child. “What!” cried the father; “Why, Sir! my daughter is only nine
years old.” Who so astonished as the doctor? “’Tis all one,” said he;
“of a surety, she is with child.” And after examining her more closely,
he did indeed find her so. The child afterward confessing with whom she
had had to do, her gallant was condemned to death by the judges, for
having gone with her at so very tender an age. I much regret I have
come to give this example and mention the thing here, seeing I had made
up my mind not to sully my paper with suchlike mean folk, but to deal
only with great and well-born persons.
Herein I have somewhat gone wide of my purpose, but the story being so
rare and uncommon, I must e’en be excused.
This doth remind me of a tale of a brave and gallant Lord if ever
there was one, since dead, which was one day making complaint of the
amplitude of women’s affairs with whom he had had to do, as well
maids as married ladies. He declared ’twould come to his having to
look for mere children, just come from the cradle so to speak, so as
not to find so wide a space of open sea as he had done with the rest,
but get better pleasure by swimming in a narrow strait. An if he had
addressed these words to a certain great and honourable dame I do know,
she would have made him the same answer she did to another gentleman
of the great world, to whom, on his making a like complaint, she did
retort thus: “I wot not which hath better cause of complaint, you men
of our width and over amplitude, or we women of your tenuity and over
smallness, or rather your tiny, tiny littleness; truly we have as much
to lament in you as ever you in us.”
The lady was right enough in what she said. Similarly another great
lady, one day at Court looking curiously at the great bronze Hercules
in the fountain at Fontainebleau, as she was a-walking with an
honourable gentleman which did escort her, his hand beneath her arm,
did complain that the said Hercules, albeit excellently well wrought
and figured otherwise, was not so well proportioned in all his members
as should be, forasmuch as his middle parts were far too small and out
of proper measure, in no wise corresponding to his huge colossus of a
body. The gentleman replied he did not agree with what she said, for
’twas to be supposed that in those days ladies were not so wide as at
the present.
A very great lady and noble Princess[94] learning how that certain folk
had given her name to a huge great culverin, did ask the reason why.
Whereupon one present answered: “’Tis for this, Madam, because it hath
a calibre greater and wider than all the rest.”
_Si est-ce pourtant qu’elles y ont trouvé assez de remède, et en
trouvent tous les jours assez pour rendre leurs portes plus étroites,
carrées et plus malaisées d’entrée; dont aucunes en usent, et d’autres
non; mais nonobstant, quand le chemin y est bien battu et frayé souvent
par continuelle habitation et fréquentation, ou passages d’enfants, les
ouvertures de plusieurs en sont toujours plus grandes et plus larges.
Je me suis là un peu perdu et dévoyé; mais puisque ç’a été à propos il
n’y a point de mal, et je retourne à mon chemin._
Many other young girls there be which let safely pass this early,
tender, sappy time of life, waiting a greater maturity and dryness,
whether because they be naturally cold at first beginning and start,
or that they be kept close guarded, as is very needful with some.
Others there be so steadfast, the winds and tempests of winter would
avail naught to shake or stir them. Others again be so foolish and
simple-minded, so raw and ignorant, as that they would not so much as
hear the name of love. So have I heard of a woman which did affect the
virtuous prude, that an if she did hear the word harlot mentioned, she
would instantly faint. A friend telling this story to a certain great
Lord in presence of his wife, the latter did exclaim: “She’d better not
come here, that woman; for if she doth faint to hear speak of whores,
she’ll die right out to see one.”
On the other hand there be some girls which from the first moment
they begin to feel they have a heart, grow so tame they will eat from
the hand at once. Others be so devout and scrupulous, fearing so sore
the commandments of the Lord our God, that they do quite neglect
that of love. Yet have I seen many of these same devout patterers of
prayers, these women that be forever a-kissing of images and all but
living in churches, which did under this hypocritical veil cover and
conceal the fire of their passions, to the end that by such false and
feigned semblance the world might perceive never a trace of them,
but deem them perfect prudes, or even half way to being saints like
St. Catherine of Sienna, by the which professions they have often
succeeded in deceiving all mankind. Thus have I heard it related of a
very great Princess, a Queen indeed, now dead, who when she was fain
to make love to any man, (for she was exceeding given that way), would
invariably begin her conversation with the love we do owe to God, and
then suddenly bring it round to carnal love, and what she did want of
her interlocutor, whereof she did before long come to the practice or
quintessential part. This is how these devotees, or bigots rather, do
cajole us men; such of us that is as be not well versed in wiles of the
sort and know not life.
I have heard a tale, though I wot not if it be true. Anyway of late
years, on occasion of a general procession at a certain city, was seen
a woman, well born or not, bare-footed and in great contrition, playing
the penitent with might and main,—and it was in Lent. Straight from
there she hied her away to dine with her lover on a quarter of kid and
a ham. The savour did penetrate to the street, and going up to her
chamber, folk found her in the midst of this glorious feast. She was
arrested and condemned to be led through the town with the joint on a
spit over her shoulder and the ham hanging at her neck. Was not this a
meet and proper punishment?
Other ladies there be so proud and haughty they do scorn heaven and
earth in a way of speaking, and utterly snub and reject men and all
their offers. But for such all that is need is to wait and have
patience and perseverance, for with these and time you do surely
subdue them and find them humble enough at last, for ’tis the property
of highmindedness and pride, after much swelling and exaltation,
presently to come down and bate its lofty claims. And with these same
proud dames, I have seen many instances where after scorning love
and all that spake to them thereof, they have given in and loved like
any others, or have even wedded husbands of mean estate and in no way
their equals. Thus doth Love make mock of them and punish them for
their hard-heartedness, taking especial delight in attacking them more
than other folk, forasmuch as the victory is then a prouder one, as
vanquishing pride.
I knew erstwhile a Court damsel, so proud and scornful that when some
gallant man of the world would come to address her and speak of love,
she would ever answer him so haughtily and with so great contempt, in
words so fierce and arrogant (for she had a gift of speech as good
as any), that presently they did cease altogether. But an if any did
chance now and again still to try and vanquish her pride, ’twas a sight
how she would snub them and send them packing with words and looks and
scornful gestures; for she was very clever at this game. In the end
Love did surprise and sore punish her, for she gave in to one which did
get her with child some score of days only before her marriage; yet
was this lover in no wise to be compared with many other honourable
gentlemen which had aforetime been fain to be her suitors. Herein
we can only say with Horace, _sic placet Veneri_, “such is Venus’
pleasure,”—for these be miracles.
’Twas my humour once while at Court to be lover to a fair and honorable
damsel, accomplished and expert if ever woman was, and of a very good
house, but proud and highhanded; and I was very much smit with her
indeed. I did make up my mind to court her, but alway to deal with her
in the same arrogant spirit she did use in her words and answers to
me,—as the proverb saith, “When Greek meets Greek.” Yet did she show
no resentment for all this, for indeed, all the while I was treating
her so cavalierly, I was used to praise her exceedingly, seeing there
is naught doth more soften a woman’s heart than commendation whether of
her beauty and charms or of her proud spirit, even declaring how that
her port did much become her, forasmuch as she kept her from all common
familiarity, and that any woman, damsel or dame, which did make her too
common and familiar, not maintaining a haughty port and high repute,
was not worthy to be so courted. For all which I did but respect her
the more, and would never call her by any other name but _my lady
Disdain_. Whereat she was so well pleased she did herself likewise
choose to call me always _Master Arrogance_.
So ever continuing, I did court her long and faithfully; and I may
boast me I had as large a share of her good graces as any great Lord
at Court which did care to court her, or larger. However a chief
favourite of the King, a brave and gallant gentleman without a doubt,
did take her from me, and by favour of his King did win and marry her.
Natheless, so long as she did live, the connection was ever kept up
betwixt us, and I have always honoured her well. I know not an if I
shall be blamed for having told this tale, for ’tis a common saying
that all tales about a man’s self be bad. Anyway I have let it out this
time; as indeed throughout my book I have related not a few stories of
myself in divers relations, though I do generally suppress the name.
Other girls there be again of so merry a complexion and so
lighthearted, so devoted to amusement and enjoyment, they never have
another thought in their heads but to laugh, and make sport and
pastime, and never time to hear or dream of anything else but only
their little amusements. I have known many such which had rather hear
a fiddle play, or dance or leap or run, than hearken to any love
discourse whatsoever; while other some do so adore the chase they
should better be called servants of Diana than of Venus. I did once
know a brave and valiant Lord, since dead, which fell so deep in love
with a maid, and a great lady to boot, that he was like to die; “for
whenas I am fain,” he used to say, “to declare my passion, she doth
answer me never a word but about her dogs and her hunting. I would to
heaven I were metamorphosed into a hunting-dog or greyhound, and my
soul entered in their body, according to Pythagoras’ opinion, to the
end she might give some heed to my love, and I be healed of my wound.”
Yet afterward did he leave her, for he was not good lackey or huntsman
enough to go everywhere a-following her about, wherever her lusty
humours, her pleasures and amusements might lead her.
Yet must we note one fact. Maids of this sort, after leaving their
chickenhood behind and outgrowing the pip, (as we say of poultry),
having taken their fill of these childish amusements, do always come,
at long last, to essay a woman’s pleasures too. Such young girls do
resemble little wolf-cubs, which be so pretty, engaging and playful in
their downy youth; yet being come to maturity, they do ever take to
evil courses and ravening and killing. The sort of girls I am speaking
of do ever the like, who after much sport and youthful merriment,
after pleasures of all kinds, hunting, dancing, leaping, skipping and
jigging, do always, I ween, indulge at last in dame Venus’ gentle
sport. In a word, to put it briefly, scarce ever a one of the sex is
seen, maid, wife or widow, but sooner or later she and all her sisters
do burn, in season or out of season,—as do all woods, excepting only
one, yclept the _larix_, the which they do in no wise resemble.
Now this Larix is a wood which will never burn, and maketh neither
fire, flame nor ash, as Julius Cæsar did find. On his return back
from Gaul, he had ordered the inhabitants of Piedmont to furnish him
vivers, and establish magazines on his main line of march. He was duly
obeyed, except by the garrison of a castle called _Larignum_, whither
had withdrawn certain ill-disposed rascals, recusants and rebels, the
result being Cæsar had to turn back and besiege the place. Coming nigh
the fortress, he saw its defences were only of wood, whereat he did
straightway make mock, deeming they would immediately take the same.
Wherefore he did give orders at once to collect large plenty of fagots
and straw to set fire to the bulwarks, and soon was there so huge a
conflagration and mass of flame that all hoped soon to see the ruin and
destruction of the fort. But lo! whenas the fire was burned out and
the flame disappeared, all were exceeding astonished, for they beheld
the stronghold in the same state as before and quite unhurt, neither
burned nor ruined one whit. This did compel Cæsar to resort to other
means, mining to wit, which did at last bring those within to come to
terms and render up the place. From this Cæsar did learn the virtues of
this larix-wood, from the which the castle had its name of _Larignum_,
because it was built and defended of the same.
I ween there be many fathers, mothers, kinsmen and husbands, that would
dearly like their daughters and wives should share the properties
of this wood, that they should burn fiercely without its leaving
mark or effect behind. They would have a far more unruffled mind and
not so many suspicions a-buzzing in their heads, nor would there be
so many whores on show nor cuckolds before the world. But ’tis not
really desirable in any shape or form, for the world would be clean
depopulated, and folk would live therein like blocks of stone, without
pleasure or satisfaction. So many persons I wot of, of either sex,
would say; and indeed Nature would be left imperfect, instead of very
perfect as she is. Following her kindly lead as our best captain, we
need never fear to lose the right path.
[Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start]
ARTICLE III
OF THE LOVE OF WIDOWS
1.
Well! enough said of maids; ’tis but right we now proceed to speak of
widows in their turn.
The love of widows is good, easy and advantageous, seeing they be in
full liberty of action, and in no sense slaves of fathers, mothers,
brothers, kinsmen and husbands, nor yet of any legal bar, a still more
important point. A man may make love and lie with a widow as much as
ever he please, he is liable to no penalty, as he is with maids or
married women. In fact the Romans, which people hath given us the
most of the laws we have, did never make this act punishable, either
in person or property. I have this from a great lawyer, who did cite
Papinian for confirmation of the point, that great Roman jurisconsult,
who treating of adultery declares; if occasionally under this term
adultery hath been inadvertently included lawless intercourse with maid
or widow, ’tis a misuse of words. In another passage the same authority
saith: the heir hath no right of reproach or concern with the character
of the deceased man’s widow, except only if the deceased had in his
lifetime brought action against his wife on this ground; then could the
said heir take up and carry on the prosecution, but not otherwise. And
as a fact in all the whole of Roman law is no penalty ordained for the
widow, except only for one that did marry again within the year of her
mourning, or who without re-marrying had borne a child subsequently
to the eleventh month of her first year of widowhood, this first year
being deemed sacred to the honour of her former husband. There was
likewise a law made by Heliogabalus, that no widow must marry again for
one year after the death of her husband, to the end she might have due
leisure to bewail his loss and deliberate carefully on the choice of a
successor. A truly paternal law, and an excellent reason i’ faith! As
for a widow’s original dowry, the heir could not in any case rob her
thereof, even though she should have given her person to every possible
form of naughtiness. And for this my authority did allege a very good
reason; for the heir having no other thought but only the property, if
once a door were opened to him to accuse the widow in hope of making
her forfeit this and so rob her of her dowry, she would be exposed at
once to every calumny his malignity could invent. So there would be
never a widow, no matter how virtuous and unoffending, could safeguard
her from slanderous actions on the part of enterprising heirs.