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Tale 18 of the Heptameron
In one of the goodly towns of the kingdom of France there dwelt a
nobleman of good birth, who attended the schools that he might learn how
virtue and honour are to be acquired among virtuous men. But although
he was so accomplished that at the age of seventeen or eighteen years he
was, as it were, both precept and example to others, Love failed not to
add his lesson to the rest; and, that he might be the better hearkened
to and received, concealed himself in the face and the eyes of the
fairest lady in the whole country round, who had come to the city in
order to advance a suit-at-law. But before Love sought to vanquish the
gentleman by means of this lady's beauty, he had first won her heart by
letting her see the perfections of this young lord; for in good looks,
grace, sense and excellence of speech he was surpassed by none.
You, who know what speedy way is made by the fire of love when once it
fastens on the heart and fancy, will readily imagine that between two
subjects so perfect as these it knew little pause until it had them at
its will, and had so filled them with its clear light, that thought,
wish and speech were all aflame with it. Youth, begetting fear in the
young lord, led him to urge his suit with all the gentleness imaginable;
but she, being conquered by love, had no need of force to win her.
Nevertheless, shame, which tarries with ladies as long as it can,
for some time restrained her from declaring her mind. But at last the
heart's fortress, which is honour's abode, was shattered in such sort
that the poor lady consented to that which she had never been minded to
refuse.
In order, however, to make trial of her lover's patience, constancy
and love, she only granted him what he sought on a very hard condition,
assuring him that if he fulfilled it she would love him perfectly for
ever; whereas, if he failed in it, he would certainly never win her as
long as he lived. And the condition was this:—she would be willing to
talk with him, both being in bed together, clad in their linen only, but
he was to ask nothing more from her than words and kisses.
He, thinking there was no joy to be compared to that which she promised
him, agreed to the proposal, and that evening the promise was kept; in
such wise that, despite all the caresses she bestowed on him and the
temptations that beset him, he would not break his oath. And albeit his
torment seemed to him no less than that of Purgatory, yet was his
love so great and his hope so strong, sure as he felt of the ceaseless
continuance of the love he had thus painfully won, that he preserved his
patience and rose from beside her without having done anything contrary
to her expressed wish. (2)
The lady was, I think, more astonished than pleased by such virtue; and
giving no heed to the honour, patience and faithfulness her lover had
shown in the keeping of his oath, she forthwith suspected that his love
was not so great as she had thought, or else that he had found her less
pleasing than he had expected.
She therefore resolved, before keeping her promise, to make a further
trial of the love he bore her; and to this end she begged him to
talk to a girl in her service, who was younger than herself and very
beautiful, bidding him make love speeches to her, so that those who saw
him come so often to the house might think that it was for the sake of
this damsel and not of herself.
The young lord, feeling sure that his own love was returned in equal
measure, was wholly obedient to her commands, and for love of her
compelled himself to make love to the girl; and she, finding him so
handsome and well-spoken, believed his lies more than other truth, and
loved him as much as though she herself were greatly loved by him.
The mistress finding that matters were thus well advanced, albeit the
young lord did not cease to claim her promise, granted him permission to
come and see her at one hour after midnight, saying that after having so
fully tested the love and obedience he had shown towards her, it was but
just that he should be rewarded for his long patience. Of the lover's
joy on hearing this you need have no doubt, and he failed not to arrive
at the appointed time.
But the lady, still wishing to try the strength of his love, had said to
her beautiful damsel—
"I am well aware of the love a certain nobleman bears to you, and I
think you are no less in love with him; and I feel so much pity for you
both, that I have resolved to afford you time and place that you may
converse together at your ease."
The damsel was so enchanted that she could not conceal her longings, but
answered that she would not fail to be present.
In obedience, therefore, to her mistress's counsel and command, she
undressed herself and lay down on a handsome bed, in a room the door of
which the lady left half-open, whilst within she set a light so that the
maiden's beauty might be clearly seen. Then she herself pretended to go
away, but hid herself near to the bed so carefully that she could not be
seen.
Her poor lover, thinking to find her according to her promise, failed
not to enter the room as softly as he could, at the appointed hour; and
after he had shut the door and put off his garments and fur shoes, he
got into the bed, where he looked to find what he desired. But no
sooner did he put out his arms to embrace her whom he believed to be his
mistress, than the poor girl, believing him entirely her own, had her
arms round his neck, speaking to him the while in such loving words and
with so beautiful a countenance, that there is not a hermit so holy but
he would have forgotten his beads for love of her.
But when the gentleman recognised her with both eye and ear, and found
he was not with her for whose sake he had so greatly suffered, the love
that had made him get so quickly into the bed, made him rise from it
still more quickly. And in anger equally with mistress and damsel, he
said—
"Neither your folly nor the malice of her who put you there can make
me other than I am. But do you try to be an honest woman, for you shall
never lose that good name through me."
So saying he rushed out of the room in the greatest wrath imaginable,
and it was long before he returned to see his mistress. However love,
which is never without hope, assured him that the greater and more
manifest his constancy was proved to be by all these trials, the longer
and more delightful would be his bliss.
The lady, who had seen and heard all that passed, was so delighted and
amazed at beholding the depth and constancy of his love, that she was
impatient to see him again in order to ask his forgiveness for the
sorrow that she had caused him to endure. And as soon as she could meet
with him, she failed not to address him in such excellent and pleasant
words, that he not only forgot all his troubles but even deemed
them very fortunate, seeing that their issue was to the glory of his
constancy and the perfect assurance of his love, the fruit of which he
enjoyed from that time forth as fully as he could desire, without either
hindrance or vexation. (3)
"I pray you, ladies, find me if you can a woman who has ever shown
herself as constant, patient and true as was this man. They who have
experienced the like temptations deem those in the pictures of Saint
Antony very small in comparison; for one who can remain chaste and
patient in spite of beauty, love, opportunity and leisure, will have
virtue enough to vanquish every devil."
"Tis a pity," said Oisille, "that he did not address his love to a woman
possessing as much virtue as he possessed himself. Their amour would
then have been the most perfect and honourable that was ever heard of."
"But prithee tell me," said Geburon, "which of the two trials do you
deem the harder?"
"I think the last," said Parlamente, "for resentment is the strongest of
all temptations."
Longarine said she thought that the first was the most arduous to
sustain, since to keep his promise it was needful he should subdue both
love and himself.
"It is all very well for you to talk," said Simontault, "it is for us
who know the truth of the matter to say what we think of it. For my own
part, I think he was stupid the first time and witless the second; for
I make no doubt that, while he was keeping his promise, to his mistress,
she was put to as much trouble as himself, if not more. She had him take
the oath only in order to make herself out a more virtuous woman than
she really was; she must have well known that strong love will not be
bound by commandment or oath, or aught else on earth, and she simply
sought to give a show of virtue to her vice, as though she could be won
only through heroic virtues. And the second time he was witless to leave
a woman who loved him, and who was worth more than his pledged mistress,
especially when his displeasure at the trick played upon him had been a
sound excuse."
Here Dagoucin put in that he was of the contrary opinion, and held that
the gentleman had on the first occasion shown himself constant, patient
and true, and on the second occasion loyal and perfect in his love.
"And how can we tell," asked Saffredent, "that he was not one of those
that a certain chapter calls de frigidis et malificiatis?" (4)
"To complete his eulogy, Hircan ought to have told us how he comported
himself when he obtained what he wanted, and then we should have been
able to judge whether it was virtue or impotence that made him observe
so much discretion."
"You may be sure," said Hircan, "that had he told me this I should have
concealed it as little as I did the rest. Nevertheless, from seeing his
person and knowing his temper, I shall ever hold that his conduct was
due to the power of love rather than to any impotence or coldness."
"Well, if he was such as you say," said Simontault, "he ought to have
broken his oath; for, had the lady been angered by such a trifle, it
would have been easy to appease her."
"Nay," said Ennasuite, "perhaps she would not then have consented."
"And pray," said Saffredent, "would it not have been easy enough to
compel her, since she had herself given him the opportunity?"
"By Our Lady!" said Nomerfide, "how you run on! Is that the way to win
the favour of a lady who is accounted virtuous and discreet?"
"In my opinion," said Saffredent, "the highest honour that can be paid
to a woman from whom such things are desired is to take her by force,
for there is not the pettiest damsel among them but seeks to be long
entreated. Some indeed there are who must receive many gifts before they
are won, whilst there are others so stupid that hardly any device or
craft can enable one to win them, and with these one must needs be ever
thinking of some means or other. But when you have to do with a woman
who is too clever to be deceived, and too virtuous to be gained by words
or gifts, is there not good reason to employ any means whatever that may
be at your disposal to vanquish her? When you hear it said that a man
has taken a woman by force, you may be sure that the woman has left him
hopeless of any other means succeeding, and you should not think any
the worse of a man who has risked his life in order to give scope to his
love."
Geburon burst out laughing.
"In my day," said he, "I have seen besieged places stormed because it
was impossible to bring the garrison to a parley either by money or by
threats; 'tis said that a place which begins to treat is half taken."
"You may think," said Ennasuite, "that every love on earth is based upon
such follies as these, but there are those who have loved, and who have
long persevered in their love, with very different aims."
"If you know a story of that kind," said Hircan, "I will give place to
you for the telling of it."
"I do know one," said Ennasuite, "and I will very willingly relate it."
Footnotes:
- This story seems to be based on fact, being corroborated
in its main lines by Brantôme, but there is nothing in the
narrative to admit of the personages referred to being
identified.—Ed.
- Brantôme's Dames Galantes contains an anecdote which is
very similar in character to this tale: "I have heard
speak," he writes, "of a very beautiful and honourable lady,
who gave her lover an assignation to sleep with her, on the
condition that he should not touch her... and he actually
obeyed her, remaining in a state of ecstasy, temptation and
continence the whole night long; whereat she was so well
pleased with him that some time afterwards she consented to
become his mistress, giving as her reason that she had
wished to prove his love by his obedience to her
injunctions; and on this account she afterwards loved him
the more, for she felt sure that he was capable of even a
greater feat than this, though it were a very great one."—
Lalanne's OEuvres de Brantôme, vol. ix. pp. 6, 7.—L.
- In reference to this story, Montaigne says in his Essay
on Cruelty: "Such as have sensuality to encounter, willingly
make use of this argument, that when it is at the height it
subjects us to that degree that a man's reason can have no
access... wherein they conceive that the pleasure doth so
transport us that our reason cannot perform its office
whilst we are so benumbed and extacied in delight.... But I
know that a man may triumph over the utmost effort of this
pleasure: I have experienced it in myself, and have not
found Venus so imperious a goddess as many—and some more
reformed than I—declare. I do not consider it as a miracle,
as the Queen of Navarre does in one of the Tales of her
Heptameron (which is a marvellous pretty book of the
kind), nor for a thing of extreme difficulty to pass over
whole nights, where a man has all the convenience and
liberty he can desire, with a long-coveted mistress, and yet
be just to his faith first given to satisfy himself with
kisses and innocent embraces only, without pressing any
further."—Cotton's "Montaigne's Essays", London, 1743, vol
ii. pp. 109-10.
- This is an allusion to the penalties pronounced by
several ecclesiastical Councils, and specified in the
Capitularies, against those who endeavoured to suspend the
procreative faculties of their enemies by resorting to
magic. On this matter Baluze's collection of Capitularies
(vol. i.) may be consulted. The "chapter" referred to by
Margaret is evidently chapter xv. (book vi.) of the
Decretals of Pope Boniface VIII., which bears the title of
De frigidis et maleficiatis, and which is alluded to by
Rabelais in Pantagruel. The belief in the practices in
question dates back to ancient times, and was shared by
Plato and Pliny, the latter of whom says that to guard
against any spell of the kind some wolf fat should be rubbed
upon the threshold and door jambs of one's bed-chamber. In
the sixteenth century sorcery of this description was so
generally believed in, in some parts of France, that
Cardinal du Perron inserted special prayers against it in
the ritual. Some particulars on the subject will be found in
the Admirables Secrets du Petit Albert, and also in a
Traité d'Enchantement, published at La Rochelle in 1591,
which gives details concerning certain practices alleged to
take place on the solemnisation of marriage among those of
the Reformed Church.—D. and L.
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