and lovers to prefer these hot-loaf dainties; but I have seen many
gallant and brave gentlemen no less eager in love, nay! more eager,
for old women than for young. They tell me ’twas to get worldly profit
of them; but some I have seen also, which did love such with most
ardent passion, without winning aught from their purse at all, except
that of their person. So have we all seen erstwhile a very great and
sovran Prince,[125] which did so ardently love a great dame, a widow
and advanced in years, that he did desert his wife and all other
women, no matter how young and lovely, for to sleep with her only.
Yet herein was he well advised, seeing she was one of the fairest and
most delightsome women could ever be seen, and for sure her winter was
better worth than the springtide, summer and autumn of the rest. Men
which have had dealings with the courtesans of Italy have seen, and do
still see, not a few cases where lovers do choose the most famous and
long experienced in preference, and those that have most shaken their
skirts, hoping with them to find something more alluring in body or in
wit. And this is why the beauteous Cleopatra, being summoned of Mark
Antony to come see him, was moved with no apprehension, being well
assured that, inasmuch as she had known how to captivate Julius Cæsar
and Gnæus Pompeius, the son of Pompey the Great, when she was yet but
a slip of a girl, and knew not thoroughly the ways and wiles of her
trade, she could manage better still her new lover, a very fleshly and
coarse soldier of a man, now that she was in the full fruition of her
experience and ripe age. Nor did she fail. In fact, the truth is that,
while youth is most meet to attract the love of some men, with others
’tis maturity, a sufficient age, a practised wit, a long experience, a
well-hung tongue and a well trained hand, that do best serve to seduce
them.
There is one doubtful point as to which I did one time ask doctors’
opinion,—a question suggested by one who asked why his health was not
better, seeing all his life long he had never known nor touched old
women, according to the physicians’ aphorism which saith: _vetulam non
cognovi_, “I have known never an old woman.” Among many other quaint
matters, be sure of this,—these doctors did tell me an old proverb
which saith: “In an old barn is fine threshing, but an old flail is
good for naught.” Others say: “Never mind how old a beast be, so it
will bear.” I was told moreover that in their practice they had known
old women which were so ardent and hot-blooded, that cohabiting with
a young man, they do draw all ever they can from him, taking whatever
he hath of substance, the better to moisten their own drouth; I speak
of such as by reason of age be dried up and lack proper humours. The
same medical authorities did give me other reasons to boot; but an if
readers be still curious, I leave them to ask further for themselves.
I have seen an aged widow, and a great lady too, which did put under
her tooth in less than four years a third husband and a young nobleman
she had taken for lover; and did send the pair of them under the sod,
not by violence or poison, but by mere enfeeblement and distillation of
their substance. Yet to look at this lady, none had ever supposed her
capable of aught of the sort; for indeed, before folk she did rather
play the prude and poor-spirited hypocrite, actually refusing to change
her shift in presence of her women for fear of their seeing her naked.
But as one of her kinswomen declared, these objections were all for
her women, not for her lovers and admirers.
But come, what is the difference in merit and repute betwixt a woman
which hath had several husbands in her life,—and there be plenty that
have had as many as three, four or even five, and another which in her
life shall have had but her husband and a lover, or two or three,—and I
have actually known some women continent and faithful to that degree?
As to this, I have heard a noble lady of the great world say she found
naught to choose betwixt a lady who had had several husbands, and
one that had had but a lover or so, along with her husband,—unless
it be that the marriage veil doth cover a multitude of sins. But in
point of sensuality and naughtiness, she said there was not a doit of
difference. Herein do they but illustrate the Spanish proverb, which
saith that _algunas mugeres son de natura de anguilas en retener, y de
lobas en excoger_,—“some women are like eels to hold, and she-wolves to
choose,” for that the eel is mighty slippery and ill to hold, and the
she-wolf doth alway choose the ugliest wolf for mate.
It befell me once at Court, as I have described elsewhere, that a lady
of a sufficiently exalted rank, which had been four times married, did
happen to tell me she had just been dining with her brother-in-law, and
I must guess who ’twas. This she said quite simply, without any thought
of roguishness; and I answered with a touch of waggery, yet laughing
the while: “Am I a diviner to guess such a riddle? You have been
married four times: I leave to the imagination how many brothers-in-law
you may have.” To this she retorted: “Nay! but you speak knavishly,”
and named me the particular brother-in-law. “Now you do talk sense,” I
said then; “before you were talking all at large.”
There was in old days at Rome[126] a lady which had had two and twenty
husbands one after other, and similarly a man which had had one and
twenty wives. The pair did hereupon bethink them to make a suitable
match by remarrying once more to each other. Eventually the husband
did outlive the wife; and was so highly honoured and esteemed at Rome
of all the people for this his noble victory, that like a successful
General, he was promenaded up and down in a triumphal car, crowned with
laurel and palm in hand. A splendid victory truly, and a well deserved
triumph!
In the days of King Henri II., there was at his Court a certain
Seigneur de Barbazan, Saint-Amand by surname, which did marry
thrice—three wives one after other. His third was daughter of Madame
de Monchy, governess to the Duchesse de Lorraine, who more doughty
than the other two, did quite surpass them, for he died under her. Now
whenas folk were mourning his loss at Court, and she in like wise was
inordinately afflicted at her bereavement, M. de Montpezat, a very
witty man, did rebuke all this demonstration, saying: that instead of
compassionating her, they should commend and extol her to the skies for
the victory she had gotten over her man, who was said to have been so
vigorous a wight and so strong and well provided that he had killed his
two first wives by dint of doing his devoir on them. But this lady, for
that she had not succumbed in the contest but had remained victorious,
should be highly praised and admired of all the Court for so glorious
a success,—a victory won over so valiant and robust a champion; and
that for the same cause herself had every reason to be proud. What a
victory, and what a source of pride, pardy!
I have heard the same doctrine cited a little above maintained also by
a great nobleman of France, who said: that he did find no difference
’twixt a woman that had had four or five husbands, as some have had,
and a whore which hath had three or four lovers one after other.
Similarly a gallant gentleman I wot of, having wedded a wife that had
been three times married already, one I also know by name, a man of
ready tongue and wit, did exclaim: “He hath married at last a whore
from the brothel of good name.” I’faith, women which do thus marry
again and again be like grasping surgeons, that will not at once bind
up the wounds of a poor wounded man, so as to prolong the cure and the
better to be gaining all the while their bits of fees. Nay! one dame of
this sort was used actually to say outright: “’Tis a poor thing to stop
dead in the very middle of one’s career; one is bound to finish, and go
on to the end!”
I do wonder that these women which be so hot and keen to marry again,
and at the same time so stricken in years, do not for their credit’s
sake make some use of cooling remedies and antiphlogistic potions,
so as to drive out all these heated humours. Yet so far be they from
any wish to use the like, as that they do employ the very opposite
treatment, declaring suchlike cooling boluses would ruin their stomach.
I have seen and read a little old-fashioned tract in Italian, but
a silly book withal, which did undertake to give recipes against
lasciviousness, and cited some two and thirty. But these be all so
silly I recommend not women to use them, nor to submit themselves to
any such annoying regimen. And so I have not thought good to copy them
in here. Pliny doth adduce one, which in former days the Vestal virgins
were used to employ; the Athenian dames did resort to the same remedy
during the festivals of the goddess Ceres, known as the _Thesmophoria_,
to cool their humours thereby and take away all hot appetite of
concupiscence. ’Twas to sleep on mattresses of the leaves of a tree
called the _agnus castus_. But be sure, an if during the feast they did
mortify themselves in this wise, after the same was over, they did very
soon pitch their mattresses to the winds.
I have seen a tree of the sort at a house in Guienne belonging to a
very high-born, honourable and beautiful lady. She would oft times show
the tree to strangers which came thither as a great rarity, and tell
them its peculiar property. But devil take me if ever I have seen or
heard tell of woman or dame that hath sent to gather one single branch,
or made the smallest scrap of mattress from its leaves. Certainly not
the lady that owned the said tree, who might have made what use she
pleased thereof. Truly, it had been a pity an if she had, and her
husband had not been best pleased; for so fair and charming a dame was
she, ’twas only right nature should be allowed her way, and she hath
borne to boot a noble line of offspring.
10.
And to speak truth, suchlike harsh, chill medicines should be left to
poor nuns and prescribed to them only, which for all their fasting and
mortifying of the flesh, be oft times sore assailed, poor creatures,
with temptations of the flesh. An if only they had their freedom, they
would be ready enough, at least some would, to take like refreshment
with their more worldly sisters, and not seldom do they repent them
of their repentance. This is seen with the Roman courtesans, as to
one of whom I must tell a diverting tale. She was vowed to take the
veil, but before her going finally to the nunnery, a former lover of
hers, a gentleman of France, doth come to bid her farewell, ere she
entered the cloister forever. But before leaving her, he did ask one
more gratification of his passion, and she did grant the same, with
these words: _Fate dunque presto; ch’ adesso mi veranno cercar per
far mi monaca, e menare al monasterio_,—“Do it quick then, for they
be coming directly to make me a nun and carry me off to cloister.” We
must suppose she was fain to do it this once as a final treat, and
say with the Roman poet: _Tandem hæc olim meminisse juvabit_,—“’Twill
be good to remember in future days this last delight.” A strange
repentance insooth and a quaint novitiate! But truly when once they be
professed, at any rate the good-looking ones, (though of course there
be exceptions), I do believe they live more on the bitter herb of
repentance than any other bodily or spiritual sustenance.
Some however there be which do contrive a remedy for this state of
things, whether by dispensation or by sheer license they do take for
themselves. For in our lands they have no such dire treatment to fear
as the Romans in old days did mete out to their Vestal virgins which
had gone astray. This was verily hateful and abominable in its cruelty;
but then they were pagans and abounding in horrors and cruelties. On
the contrary we Christians, which do follow after the gentleness of our
Lord Christ, should be tender-hearted as he was, and forgiving as he
was forgiving. I would describe here in writing the fashion of their
punishment; but for very horror my pen doth refuse to indite the same.
Let us now leave these poor recluses, which I do verily believe, once
they be shut up in their nunneries, do endure no small hardship. So
a Spanish lady one time, seeing them setting to the religious life a
very fair and honourable damsel, did thus exclaim: _O tristezilla, y
en que pecasteis, que tan presto vienes à penitencia, y seis metida en
sepultura viva!_—“Poor creature, what so mighty sin have you done, that
you be so soon brought to penitence and thus buried alive!” And seeing
the nuns offering her every complaisance, compliment and welcome, she
said: _que todo le hedia, hasta el encienso de la yglesia_,—“that it
all stank in her nostrils, to the very incense in the church.”
Now as to these vows of virginity, Heliogabalus did promulgate a law to
the effect that no Roman maid, not even a Vestal virgin, was bound to
perpetual virginity, saying how that the female sex was over weak for
women to be bound to a pact they could never be sure of keeping. And
for this reason they that have founded hospitals for the nourishing,
rescuing and marrying poor girls, have done a very charitable work, no
less to enable these to taste the sweet fruit of marriage than to turn
them from naughtiness. So Panurge in Rabelais, did give much wealth of
his to make such marriages, and especially in the case of old and ugly
women, for with such was need of more expenditure of money than for the
pretty ones.
One question there is I would fain have resolved in all sincerity
and without concealment of any kind by some good lady that hath made
the journey,—to wit, when women be married a second time, how they
be affected toward the memory of their first husband. ’Tis a general
maxim hereanent, that later friendships and enmities do always make
the earlier ones forgot; in like wise will a second marriage bury the
thought of the first. As to this I will now give a diverting example,
though from an humble source,—not that it should therefore be void of
authority and to be rejected, if it be as they say, that albeit in an
obscure and common quarter, yet may wisdom and good intelligence be
hid there. A great lady of Poitou one day asking a peasant woman, a
tenant of hers, how many husbands she had had, and how she found them,
the latter, bobbing her little country curtsey, did coolly answer:
“I’ll tell you, Madam; I’ve had two husbands, praise the Lord! One was
called Guillaume, he was the first; and the second was called Collas.
Guillaume was a good man, easy in his circumstances, and did treat me
very well; but there, God have good mercy on Collas’ soul, for Collas
did his duty right well by me.” But she did actually say the word
straight out without any glozing or disguise such as I have thrown over
it. Prithee, consider how the naughty wench did pray God for the dead
man which was so good a mate and so lusty, and for what benefit, to
wit that he had covered her so doughtily; but of the first, never a
word of the sort. I should suppose many dames that do wed a second time
and a third do the same; for after all this is their chiefest reason
for marrying again, and he that doth play this game the best, is best
loved. Indeed they do always imagine the second husband must need be a
fierce performer,—though very oft they be sore deceived, not finding in
the shop the goods they did there think to find. Or else, if there be
some provision, ’tis oft so puny, wasted and worn, so slack, battered,
drooping and dilapidated, they do repent them ever they invested their
money in the bargain. Of this myself have seen many examples, that I
had rather not adduce.
We read in Plutarch how Cleomenes, having wedded the fair Agiatis, wife
of Agis, after the death of the latter, did grow fondly enamoured of
the same by reason of her surpassing beauty. He did not fail to note
the great sadness she lay under for her first husband’s loss; and felt
so great compassion for her, as that he made no grievance of the love
she still bare her former husband, and the affectionate memory she did
cherish of him. In fact, himself would often turn the discourse to her
earlier life, asking her facts and details as to the pleasures that had
erstwhile passed betwixt them twain. He had her not for long however,
for she soon died, to his extreme sorrow. ’Tis a thing not a few worthy
husbands do in the case of fair widows they have married.
But ’tis time now surely, methinks, to be making an end, if ever end is
to be made.
Other ladies there be which declare they do much better love their
second husbands than their first. “For as to our first husbands,”
some of these have told me, “these we do more often than not take at
the orders of our King or the Queen our mistress, or at the command of
our fathers, mothers, kinsmen, or guardians, not by our own unbiased
wish. On the other hand, once widowed and thus free and emancipated,
we do exercise such choice as seemeth us good, and take new mates
solely for our own good will and pleasure, for delight of love and the
satisfaction of our heart’s desire.” Of a surety there would seem to be
good reason here, were it not that very oft, as the old-time proverb
saith,—“Love that begins with a ring, oft ends with a halter.” So every
day do we see instances and examples where women thinking to be well
treated of their husbands, the which they have in some cases rescued
from justice and the gibbet, from poverty and misery and the hangman,
and saved alive, have been sore beaten, bullied, cruelly entreated and
often done to death of the same,—a just punishment of heaven for their
base ingratitude toward their former husbands, that were only too good
to them, and of whom they had never a good word to say.
These were in no way like one I have heard tell of, who the first night
of her marriage, when now her husband was beginning his assault, did
start sobbing and sighing very sore, so that at one and the same time
she was in two quite opposite states, cold and hot, winter and summer,
both at once. Her husband asking her what cause she had to be so sad,
and if he were not doing his devoir well, “Alas! too well, good sir!”
she made answer; “but I am thinking of mine other husband, which did
so earnestly pray me again and again never to marry afresh after his
death, but to bear in mind and have compassion on his young children.
Alackaday! I see plainly I shall have the like ado with you. Woe’s
me! what _shall_ I do? I do think, an if he can see me from the place
he now is in, he will be cursing me finely.” What an idea, never to
have thought on this afore, nor to have felt remorse but when ’twas
all too late! But the husband did soon appease her, and expel this
fancy by the best method possible; then next morning throwing wide the
chamber window, he did cast forth all memory of the former husband.
For is there not an old proverb which saith, “A woman that burieth one
husband, will think little of burying another,” and another, “There’s
more grimace than grief, when a woman loseth her husband.”
I knew another widow, a great lady, which was quite the opposite of
the last, and did not weep one whit the first night. For then, and the
second to boot, she did go so lustily to work with her second husband
as that they did break down and burst the bedstead, and this albeit she
had a kind of cancer on one breast. Yet notwithstanding her affliction,
she did miss never a point of amorous delight; and often afterward
would divert him with tales of the folly and ineptitude of her former
mate. And truly, by what I have heard sundry of either sex tell me,
the very last thing a second husband doth desire of his wife is to be
entertained with the merits and worth of her first, as though jealous
of the poor departed wight, who would like naught so well as to return
to earth again; but as for abuse of him, as much of that as ever you
please! Natheless there be not a few that will ask their wives about
their former lords, as did Cleomenes; but this they do, as feeling
themselves to be strong and vigorous; and so delighting to institute
comparisons, do cross-question them concerning the other’s sturdiness
and vigour in these sweet encounters. In like wise have I heard of
some which to put their bedfellows in better case, do lead them to
think their former mates were prentice hands compared with them, a
device that doth oft times answer their purpose well. Others again will
say just the opposite, and declare their first husbands were perfect
giants, so as to spur on their new mates to work like very pack mules.
11.
Widows of the sort just described would be in good case in the island
of Chios,[127*] the fairest, sweetest and most pleasant of the Levant,
formerly possessed by the Genoese, but now for five and thirty years
usurped by the Turks,—a crying shame and loss for Christendom. Now in
this isle, as I am informed of sundry Genoese traders, ’tis the custom
that every woman desiring to continue a widow, without any intent to
marry again, is constrained to pay to the Seigneurie of the island a
certain fixed sum of money, which they call _argomoniatiquo_, which
is the same as saying (with all respect to the ladies), _an idle spot
is useless_. So likewise at Sparta, as Plutarch saith in his _Life of
Lysander_, was a fine established by law against such as would not
marry, or did marry over late, or ill. To return to Scio (Chios), I
have enquired of certain natives of that island, what might be the aim
and object of the said custom, which told me ’twas to the end the isle
might always be well peopled. I can vouch for this, that our land of
France will surely never be left desert or infertile by fault of our
widows’ not marrying again; for I ween there be more which do re-marry
than not, and will pay never a doit of tribute for idle and useless
females. And if not by marriage, at any rate in other ways, these
Chiotes do make that same organ work and fructify, as I will presently
show. ’Tis well too for our maids of France they need not to pay the
tax their sisters of Chios be liable to; for these, whether in country
or town, if they do come to lose their maidenhead before marriage, and
be fain after to continue the trade, be bound to pay once for all a
ducat (and surely ’tis a good bargain to compound for all their life
after at this price) to the Captain of the Night Watch, so as they
may pursue their business as they please, without let or hindrance.
And herein doth lie the chiefest and most certain profit this worthy
Captain doth come by in his office.
These dames and damsels of this Isle be much different from those of
olden days in the same land, which, by what Plutarch saith in his
_Opuscula_, were so chaste for seven hundred years, that never a case
was remembered where a married woman had done adultery, or a maid had
been deflowered unwed. A miracle! ’twill be said, a mythic tale worthy
of old Homer! At any rate be sure they be much other nowadays!
Never was a time when the Greeks had not always some device or other
making for wantonness. So in old times we read of a custom in the isle
of Cyprus, which ’tis said the kindly goddess Venus, the patroness of
that land, did introduce. This was that the maids of that island should
go forth and wander along the banks, shores and cliffs of the sea, for
to earn their marriage portions by the generous giving of their bodies
to mariners, sailors and seafarers along that coast. These would put
in to shore on purpose, very often indeed turning aside from their
straight course by compass to land there; and so taking their pleasant
refreshment with them, would pay handsomely, and presently hie them
away again to sea, for their part only too sorry to leave such good
entertainment behind. Thus would these fair maids win their marriage
dowers, some more, some less, some high, some low, some grand, some
lowly, according to the beauty, gifts and carnal attractions of each
damsel.
Nowadays ’tis different. No maids in any Christian nation do thus go
wandering forth, to expose them to wind and rain, cold and heat, sun
and moon, and so win their dower, for that the task is too laborious
for their delicate and tender skins and white complexions. Rather do
they have their lovers come to them under rich pavilions and gorgeous
hangings, and do there draw their amorous profit from their paramours,
without ever a tax to pay. I speak not now of the courtesans of Rome,
who do pay tax, but of women of higher place than they. In fact for
the most part for such damsels their fathers, mothers and brothers,
be not at much pains to gather money for their portion on marriage;
but on the contrary many of them be found able to give handsomely to
their kinsfolk, and advance the same in goods and offices, ranks and
dignities, as myself have seen in many instances.