"He will do as he pleases," said Parlamente, "but for my content I wish to believe that he always speaks in this way. At all events, the example he has brought forward will be profitable to those who believe that spiritual love is not dangerous. In my opinion it is more so than any other."
"Yet," said Oisille, "it seems to me that to love a worthy, virtuous and God-fearing man is in nowise a matter for scorn, and that one cannot but be the better for it."
"Madam," said Parlamente, "I pray you believe that no one can be more simple or more easily deceived than a woman who has never loved. For in itself love is a passion that seizes upon the heart before one is aware of it, and so pleasing a passion is it that, if it can make use of virtue as a cloak, it will scarcely be recognised before some mischief has come of it."
"What mischief," asked Oisille, "can come of loving a worthy man?"
"Madam," said Parlamente, "there are a good many men that are esteemed worthy, but to be worthy in respect of the ladies, and to be careful for their honour and conscience--not one such man as that could, I think, be found in these days. Those who think otherwise, and put their trust in men, find at last that they have been deceived, and, having begun such intimacy with obedience to God, will often end it with obedience to the devil. I have known many who, under pretext of speaking about God, began an intimacy from which they could not withdraw when at last they wished to do so, being held in subjection by this semblance of virtue. A vicious love perishes of its own nature, and cannot continue in a good heart, but virtuous love has bonds of silk so fine that one is caught in them before they are seen."
"According to you," said Ennasuite, "no woman should ever love a man; but your law is too harsh a one to last."
"I know that," said Parlamente, "but none the less must I desire that every one were as content with her own husband as I am with mine."
Ennasuite, who felt that these words touched her, changed colour and said--
"You ought to believe every one the same at heart as yourself, unless, indeed, you think yourself more perfect than all others."
"Well," said Parlamente, "to avoid dispute, let us see to whom Hircan will give his vote."
"I give it," Hircan replied, "to Ennasuite, in order to make amends to her for what my wife has said."
"Then, since it is my turn," said Ennasuite, "I will spare neither man nor woman, that all may fare alike. I see right well that you are unable to subdue your hearts to acknowledge the virtue and goodness of men, for which reason I am obliged to resume the discourse with a story like to the last."
[Illustration: 062.jpg Tailpiece]
[Illustration: 063a.jpg The Clerk entreating Forgiveness of the President]
[The Clerk entreating Forgiveness of the President]
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_TALE XXXVI_.
_By means of a salad a President of Grenoble avenged himself upon one of his clerks with whom his wife was smitten, and so saved the honour of his house_.
In the town of Grenoble there dwelt a President whose name I shall not mention, but he was not a Frenchman. (1) He had a very beautiful wife, and they lived in great tranquillity together.
1 The personage referred to is Jeffroy Charles or Carles, Chief President of the Parliament of Grenoble, and President of the Senate of Turin; his wife's name was Margaret du Mottet; she came of a very old family of Embrun. Some interesting particulars concerning President Charles, supplied by that erudite scholar M. Jules Roman, will be found in the Appendix to the present volume (A).--Ed.
This lady, finding that her husband was now old, fell in love with a young clerk, called Nicholas. When the President went to the court in the morning, Nicholas used to enter his room and take his place. This was observed by a servant of the President's who had served his master well for thirty years, and in his faithfulness he could not refrain from speaking to him of the matter.
The President, being a prudent man, would not lightly believe the story, but said that the servant wished to create contention between himself and his wife. If the matter, said he, were really as the servant declared, he could easily prove it to him, and if proof were not given he would believe that it was a lie contrived in order to destroy the love existing between himself and his wife. The servant promised that he would show him the truth of what he had said, and one morning, as soon as the President was gone to the court and Nicholas had entered the room, he sent one of his fellow-servants to tell his master to come, while he himself remained watching at the door lest Nicholas should come out.
As soon as the President saw the sign that was made to him by one of his servants, he pretended to be ill, left the court and hastened home.
Here he found his old servant at the door, and was assured by him that Nicholas was inside and had only just gone in.
"Do not stir from this door," said his lord to him, "for, as you are aware, there is no other means of going into or out of the room, except indeed by way of a little closet of which I myself alone carry the key."
The President entered the room and found his wife and Nicholas in bed together. The clerk, clad in nothing but his shirt, threw himself at his feet to entreat forgiveness, while his wife began to weep.
Then said the President--
"Though you have done a deed the enormity of which you may yourself judge, I am yet unwilling that my house should be dishonoured on your account, and the daughters I have had by you made to suffer. Wherefore,"
he continued, "cease to weep, I command you, and hearken to what I am going to do; and do you, Nicholas, hide yourself in my closet and make not a single sound."
When this was done, he opened the door, and calling his old servant, said to him--
"Did you not assure me that you would show me Nicholas in company with my wife? Trusting in your word, I came hither in danger of killing my poor wife, and I have found nothing of what you told me. I have searched the whole room, as I will show you."
So saying, he caused his servant to look under the beds and in every quarter. The servant, finding nothing, was greatly astonished, and said to his master--
"The devil must have made away with him, for I saw him go in, and he did not come out through the door. But I can see that he is not here."
Then said his master to him--
"You are a wicked servant to try to create contention in this way between my wife and me. I dismiss you, and will pay you what I owe you for your services to me, and more besides; but be speedily gone, and take care that you are not in the town twenty-four hours from now."
The President paid him for five or six years in advance, and, knowing him to be a faithful servant, resolved to reward him still further.
When the servant was gone weeping away, the President made Nicholas come forth from the closet, and after telling them both what he thought of their wickedness, he commanded them to give no hint of the matter to anyone. He also charged his wife to dress more bravely than was her wont, and to attend all assemblies, dances and feasts; and he told Nicholas to make more merry than before, but, as soon as he whispered to him, "Begone," to see that he was out of the town before three hours were over. Having arranged matters in this way, he returned to the court, none being any the wiser. And for a fortnight, contrary to his wont, he entertained his friends and neighbours, and after the banquet had the tabourers, so that the ladies might dance.
One day, seeing that his wife was not dancing, he commanded Nicholas to lead her out. The clerk, thinking that the past had been forgotten, did so gladly, but when the dance was over, the President, under pretence of charging him with some household matter, whispered to him, "Begone, and come back no more." And albeit Nicholas was grieved to leave his mistress, yet was he no less glad that his life was spared.
When the President had convinced all his kinsfolk and friends and the whole countryside of the deep love that he bore his wife, he went into his garden one fine day in the month of May to gather a salad, of such herbs that his wife did not live for twenty-four hours after eating of them; whereupon he made such a great show of mourning that none could have suspected him of causing her death; and in this way he avenged himself upon his enemy, and saved the honour of his house. (2)
2 Whilst admitting the historical basis of this story, M.
Le Roux de Lincy conceives it to be the same as No. xlvii.
of the _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_, printed half-a-century before the _Heptameron_ was written. Beyond the circumstance, however, that in both cases a judge is shown privily avenging himself on his wife for her infidelity, there is no resemblance between the two tales. There is good reason for believing that Queen Margaret's narrative is based on absolute fact, and not on the story in the _Cent Nouvelles_. Both tales have often been imitated. See for instance Bonaventure Despericr's _Contes, Nouvelles, et joyeux Devis_ (tale xcii., or, in some editions, xc. ); _Les Heures de Recreation de Louis Guicciardini_, p. 28; G.
Giraldi Cinthio's _Hecatommithi, overro cento Novelle, &c_.
(dec. iii. nov. vi. ); Malespini's _Ducento Novelle _(part ii. nov. xvi.); Verboquet's _Les Delices, &c_, 1623, p. 23; and Shirley's _Love's Cruelly_. These tales also inspired some of the Spanish dramatists, notably Calderon.--Ed. and L.
"I do not mean by this, ladies, to praise the President's conscience, but rather to bring out the frailty of a woman and the great patience and prudence of a man. And I beg you, ladies, be not angered by the truth, which sometimes speaks as loudly against ourselves as against the men; for vice and virtue are common alike to men and women."
"If all those," said Parlamente, "who have fallen in love with their servants were obliged to eat salads of that kind, I know some who would be less fond of their gardens than they are at present, and who would pluck up the herbs to get rid of such as restore the honour of a family by compassing the death of a wanton mother."
Hircan, who guessed why she had said this, angrily replied--"A virtuous woman should never judge another guilty of what she would not do herself."
"Knowledge is not judgment nor yet foolishness," returned Parlamente.
"However, this poor woman paid the penalty that many others have deserved, and I think that the President, when desirous of vengeance, comported himself with wondrous prudence and wisdom."
"And with great malevolence, also," said Longarine. "'Twas a slow and cruel vengeance, and showed he had neither God nor conscience before his eyes."
"Why, what would you have had him do," said Hircan, "to revenge himself for the greatest wrong that a woman can deal to a man?"
"I would have had him kill her in his wrath," she replied. "The doctors say that since the first impulses of passion are not under a man's control, such a sin may be forgiven; so it might have obtained pardon."