By Monseigneur De Villiers.
_Of a girl who was ill of the plague and caused the death of three men
who lay with her, and how the fourth was saved, and she also._
In the year of the pardons of Rome (*) just past, the plague was
so great and terrible in Dauphiné, that the greater part of the
better-class people left the country.
(*) The great Jubilee of 1450.
At that time a fair, young damsel felt herself stricken with the malady,
and at once repaired to a neighbour, a woman of good condition, and
rather old, and related her piteous condition.
The neighbour, who was a wise and prudent woman, was not frightened
at what the told her, and had even sufficient courage and assurance
to comfort her with words, and what little she could do in the way of
medicine. “Alas!” said the young girl who was sick, “my good neighbour,
I greatly grieve that I must now leave the world and all the happinesses
and amusements I have long enjoyed! But, by my oath! and between
ourselves, my greatest sorrow is that I must die before I have known and
tasted the good things of this world; such and such young men have often
solicited me, and I bluntly refused them, for which I am now sorry; and
if I die I shall never have another chance to let a man show me how to
lose my maidenhead. They have told me that it is so pleasant and good,
that I sorrow for my fair and tender body, which must rot without
having had this much desired pleasure. And, to tell the truth, my good
neighbour, it seems to me that if I once tasted this delight before my
death, my end would be easier--I should die more easily, and with less
regret. And, what is more, my heart is so set upon this that it might be
medicine to me, and the cause of my cure.”
“Would to God!” said the old woman, “that nothing else were needed; you
would be soon cured it seems to me, for--thank God--our town is not yet
so destitute of of men that we cannot find a good fellow to do this job
for you.”
“My good neighbour,” said the young girl, “I would beg of you to go
to such an one”--whom she named, who was a fine gentleman, and who had
formerly been in love with her--“and tell him to come here and speak to
me.”
The old woman set out, and found the gentleman, whom she sent to the
house. As soon as he came there, the young girl, who, on account of her
disease had a high colour, threw her arms round his neck, and kissed him
twenty times. The young man, more joyful than ever to find her whom he
had so much loved abandon herself to him, seized her without more ado,
and showed her that which she so much desired to know.
She was not ashamed to beg and pray him to continue as he had commenced;
and, in short, she made him begin again so often that he could do no
more. When she saw that, as she had not yet had her fill, she was bold
enough to say;
“My friend you have often beseeched for that which I ask you now. You
have done all that in you is, I know well. Nevertheless, I know that I
have not all I want, and I am sure that I cannot live unless some one
else comes and does to me what you have done, and therefore I beg of
you, if you value my life, to go to such an one and bring him hither.”
“It is true, my dear, that I know well he will do what you want.”
The gentleman was much astonished at the request; nevertheless, though
he had worked till he could do no more, he went off and found his
companion, and brought him to her, and he soon set to work as the other
had done.
When he was played out as his friend had been, she was not ashamed to
ask him, as she had done the first, to bring to her another gentleman,
and he did so.
This made three with whom she had fought a love battle and defeated them
all; but you must know that the first gentleman felt ill, and stricken
with the plague, as soon as he had sent his friend to take his place; so
he hastened to the priest, and confessed as best he could, and then died
in the priest’s arms.
His friend also, the second comer, as soon as he had given up his place
to the third, felt very ill, and asked everywhere after the one who was
already dead. He met the priest, weeping and exhibiting great grief, who
told him of the death of his friend.
“Ah, monsieur le curé, I am stricken as he was; hear my confession.”
The curé, in a great fright, made haste to hear his confession, and,
when that was finished, the gentleman, though within two hours of his
end, went to her from whom he and his friend had taken the contagion,
and found with her the man he had fetched, and said to her;
“Cursed woman! you have killed me and my friend also. You ought to be
burned to death! Nevertheless I pardon you, and may God pardon you!
You have the plague, and have given it to my friend, who died in the
priest’s arms, and I shall soon follow him.” With that he left, and died
an hour later in his own house.
The third gentleman, who had run the same risks as his companions, who
were both dead, did not feel very safe. Nevertheless, he took courage,
and cast aside all fear, and bethought him that he had often been in
perils and dangerous battles before, and went to the father and mother
of the girl who had killed his two companions, and told them that their
daughter was ill, and that they must take care of her. That being done,
he so conducted himself that he escaped the danger of which his two
friends had died.
Now you must know that when this slayer of men was brought back to her
father’s house, whilst they were making a bed ready in which she could
repose and sweat, she sent secretly for the son of a shoe-maker, a
neighbour, and had him brought to her father’s stable, where she made
him work as she had done the others, but he did not live four hours
after.
She was put to bed, and they made her sweat greatly. And soon there
appeared upon her body four buboes, of which she was afterwards cured.
And I believe that you will find her now amongst the prostitutes at
Avignon, Vienne, Valence, or some other place in Dauphiné.
And the doctors said that she had escaped death because she had tasted
the joys of this life; which is a notable and true example to many young
girls to never refuse a good thing when it comes in their way.
*****
STORY THE FIFTY-SIXTH -- THE WOMAN, THE PRIEST, THE SERVANT, AND THE
WOLF.
By Monseigneur De Villiers.
_Of a gentleman who caught, in a trap that he laid, his wife, the
priest, her maid, and a wolf; and burned them all alive, because his
wife committed adultery with the priest._
In a town in this kingdom, in the duchy of Auvergne, there formerly
lived a gentleman, who, to his misfortune, had a very pretty young wife.
This damsel was acquainted with a priest, a neighbour, who lived half a
league off, and they were so neighbourly together that the good priest
took the gentleman’s place whenever he was absent.
And this damsel had a waiting-maid who was acquainted with all their
doings, and often carried messages to the priest, and advised him of the
place and hour when he could safely come to her mistress.
The matter was not so well hid as the lovers would have liked, for a
gentleman, who was a near relative of him to whom this dishonour was
done, was informed of the affair, and told the person most concerned all
that he knew.
You may fancy that the good gentleman, when he heard that in his absence
his wife was helped by the priest, was not overpleaaed, and if it had
not been for his cousin would have taken terrible vengeance as soon as
he heard the news; but consented to put it off until he had taken them
both in the act.
He and his cousin arranged to go on a pilgrimage, four or six leagues
from home, and take his wife and the priest, in order to take note how
they behaved towards each other.
As they were returning from this pilgrimage, during which the curé had
made love as he best could,--that is to say by glances and other little
devices--the husband caused himself to be sent for by a messenger he had
instructed, to come at once to a lord of that country.
He pretended to be very vexed, and to leave with much regret,
--nevertheless, since the lord had sent for him he could not disobey. So
he went his way, and his cousin, the other gentleman, said that he would
keep him company, as that was his way to return home.
The priest and the lady much rejoiced to hear this news; they consulted
together and decided that the priest should take leave and quit the
house, in order that none of the people there might suspect him, and
about midnight he would return to the lady, as he was accustomed. No
sooner was this determined on than the priest said farewell, and left
the house.
Now you must know that the husband and his relative were hidden in a
gorge through which the priest would have to pass, and could neither go
or return any other way, without going out of the right road.
They saw the priest pass, and judged that he would return that night--as
indeed was his intention. They let him pass without saying a word, and
then prepared a large pitfall, with the help of some peasants who aided
them in the task. The trap was quickly and well made, and it was not
long before a wolf, passing that way, fell into the pit.
Soon after came the priest, clad in a short gown, and with a curtle axe
hung round his neck; and when he came to where the pitfall had been dug,
he fell into it on the wolf, at which he was much alarmed, and the wolf,
who was down there first, was as much afraid of the priest as the priest
was of it.
When the two gentlemen saw the priest lodged along with the wolf, they
were much delighted, and he who was most concerned, declared that the
priest should never come out alive, for he would kill him there. The
other blamed him for this, and did not wish the priest killed, and was
of opinion they should rather cut off his genitals; but the husband
wanted him killed, and this discussion lasted for a long time, while
they were awaiting the dawn, when they could see clearly.
Whilst they were thus waiting, the lady, who expected the priest, and
did not know why he tarried so long, sent her servant-maid in order to
make him hurry.
The maid, whilst on her road to the cure’s house, fell into the trap
with the wolf and the curé. She was much astonished to find herself in
such company.
“Alas!” said the priest, “I am lost. We have been found out, and someone
has laid this trap for us.”
The husband and his cousin, who heard and saw all, were both as pleased
as they could be; and they felt as sure as though the Holy Spirit had
revealed it to them, that the mistress would fellow the maid, for they
had heard the maid say that her mistress had sent her to the priest to
know why he had failed to come at the hour agreed upon between them.
The mistress, finding that neither the curé or the maid came, and that
dawn was approaching, suspected that there was something, and that she
should find them in a little wood there was on the road--which was where
the trap was laid--and determined to go there and try and find out if
there was any news.
She walked along towards the priest’s house, and when she came to the
spot where the trap was laid, she tumbled in along with the others.
When they found themselves all assembled, it need not be said that they
were much astonished, and each did his or her utmost to get out of the
pit, but it was no good, and they looked upon themselves as being as
good as dead, as well as dishonoured.
Then the two prime movers in the affair--that is to say the husband of
the lady, and his cousin--came to the edge of the pit, and saluted the
company, and told them to be comfortable, and asked them if they were
ready for breakfast.
The husband, who was anxious for his revenge, managed to send his cousin
to look after their horses, which were at a house near by, and when he
had got rid of him, he made all the haste he could, and threw a
quantity of brushwood into the pit, and set it on fire, and burned them
all--wife, priest, waiting-woman and wolf.
After that he left that part of the country, and went to the King to ask
his pardon, which he easily obtained.
And some say that the King remarked that it was a pity the poor wolf
should have been burned alive for the faults of the others.
*****
[Illustration: 57.jpg The obliging Brother.]