Near the town of Alençon there lived a gentleman called the Lord of LaTireliere, who one morning came from his house to the town afoot, bothbecause the distance was not great and because it was freezing hard. (1)When he had done his business, he sought out a crony of his, an advocatenamed Anthony Bacheré, and, after speaking with him of his affairs, hetold him that he should much like to meet with a good breakfast, but atsomebody else's expense. While thus discussing, they sat themselves downin front of an apothecary's shop, where there was a varlet who listenedto them, and who forthwith resolved to give them their breakfast.
He went out from his shop into a street whither all repaired on needfuloccasions, (2) and there found a large lump of ordure standing on end,and so well frozen that it looked like a small loaf of fine sugar.Forthwith he wrapped it in handsome white paper, in the manner he waswont to use for the attraction of customers, and hid it in his sleeve.
Afterwards he came and passed in front of the gentleman and theadvocate, and, letting the sugar-loaf (3) fall near them, as if bymischance, went into a house whither he had pretended to be carrying it.
The Lord of La Tirelière (4) hastened back with all speed to pick upwhat he thought to be a sugar-loaf, and just as he had done so theapothecary's man also came back looking and asking for his sugareverywhere.
The gentleman, thinking that he had cleverly tricked him, then went inhaste to a tavern with his crony, to whom he said—
"Our breakfast has been paid for at the cost of that varlet."
When he was come to the tavern he called for good bread, good wine andgood meat, for he thought that he had wherewith to pay. But whilst hewas eating, as he began to grow warm, his sugar-loaf in its turn beganto thaw and melt, and filled the whole room with the smell peculiarto it, whereupon he, who carried it in his bosom, grew wroth with thewaiting-woman, and said to her—
"You are the filthiest folks that ever I knew in this town, for eitheryou or your children have strewn all this room with filth."
"By St. Peter!" replied the woman, "there is no filth here unless youhave brought it in yourselves."
Thereupon they rose, by reason of the great stench that they smelt,and went up to the fire, where the gentleman drew out of his bosom ahandkerchief all dyed with the melted sugar, and on opening his robe,lined with fox-skin, found it to be quite spoiled.
And all that he was able to say to his crony was this—
"The rogue whom we thought to deceive has deceived us instead."
Then they paid their reckoning and went away as vexed as they hadbeen merry on their arrival, when they fancied they had tricked theapothecary's varlet. (5)
"Often, ladies, do we see the like befall those who delight in usingsuch cunning. If the gentleman had not sought to eat at another'sexpense, he would not have drunk so vile a beverage at his own. It istrue, ladies, that my story is not a very clean one, but you gave melicense to speak the truth, and I have done so in order to show you thatno one is sorry when a deceiver is deceived."
"It is commonly said," replied Hircan, "that words have no stink, yetthose for whom they are intended do not easily escape smelling them."
"It is true," said Oisille, "that such words do not stink, but there areothers which are spoken of as nasty, and which are of such evil odourthat they disgust the soul even more than the body is disgusted when itsmells such a sugar-loaf as you described in the tale."
"I pray you," said Hircan, "tell me what words you know of so foul as tosicken both the heart and soul of a virtuous woman."
"It would indeed be seemly," replied Oisille, "that I should tell youwords which I counsel no woman to utter."
"By that," said Saffredent, "I quite understand what those terms are.They are such as women desirous of being held discreet do not commonlyemploy. But I would ask all the ladies present why, when they dare notutter them, they are so ready to laugh at them when they are used intheir presence."
Then said Parlamente—
"We do not laugh because we hear such pretty expressions, though itis indeed true that every one is disposed to laugh on seeing anybodystumble or on hearing any one utter an unfitting word, as often happens.The tongue will trip and cause one word to be used for another, evenby the discreetest and most excellent speakers. But when you men talkviciously, not from ignorance, but by reason of your own wickedness,I know of no virtuous woman who does not feel a loathing for suchspeakers, and who would not merely refuse to hearken to them, but evento remain in their company."
"That is very true," responded Geburon. "I have frequently seen womenmake the sign of the cross on hearing certain words spoken, and ceasenot in doing so after these words had been uttered a second time."
"But how many times," said Simontault, "have they put on their masks (6)in order to laugh as freely as they pretended to be angry?"
"Yet it were better to do this," said Parlamente, "than to let it beseen that the talk pleased them."
"Then," said Dagoucin, "you praise a lady's hypocrisy no less than hervirtue?"
"Virtue would be far better," said Longarine, "but, when it is lacking,recourse must be had to hypocrisy, just as we use our slippers (7) todisguise our littleness. And it is no small matter to be able to concealour imperfections."
"By my word," said Hircan, "it were better sometimes to show some slightimperfection than to cover it so closely with the cloak of virtue."
"It is true," said Ennasuitc, "that a borrowed garment brings theborrower as much dishonour when he is constrained to return it as itbrought him honour whilst it was being worn, and there is a lady nowliving who, by being too eager to conceal a small error, fell into agreater."
"I think," said Hircan, "that I know whom you mean; in any case,however, do not pronounce her name."
"Ho! ho!" said Geburon [to Ennasuite], "I give you my vote on conditionthat when you have related the story you will tell us the names. We willswear never to mention them."
"I promise it," said Knnasuite, "for there is nothing that may not betold in all honour."