The Prince pretended that he knew nothing of the matter, and put such a face on it that the gentleman was wholly at a loss what to think. But in the end he received a rating that he had not expected, for the Prince assured him that, if ever he went to the lady's room again, he would tell the King of it, and have him banished the Court.
"I pray you, ladies, judge whether it had not been better for this poor lady to have spoken freely to him who did her the honour of loving and esteeming her, instead of leading him by her dissimulation to prove her in a way that brought her so much shame."
"She knew," said Geburon, "that if she confessed the truth she would wholly lose his favour, and this she on no account desired to do."
"It seems to me," said Longarine, "that when she had chosen a husband to her liking, she ought not to have feared the loss of any other man's affection."
"I am sure," said Parlamente, "that if she had dared to reveal her marriage, she would have been quite content with her husband; but she wished to hide it until her daughters were wed, and so she would not abandon so good a means of concealment."
"It was not for that reason," said Saffredent, "but because the ambition of women is so great that they are never satisfied with having only one lover. I have heard that the discreetest of them are glad to have three--one, namely, for honour, one for profit, and one for delight.
Each of the three thinks himself loved the best, but the first two are as servants to the last."
"You speak," said Oisille, "of such women as have neither love nor honour."
"Madam," said Saffredent, "there are some of the kind that I describe, whom you reckon among the most honourable in the land."
"You may be sure," said Hircan, "that a crafty woman will be able to live where all others die of hunger."
"And," said Longarine, "when their craftiness is discerned, 'tis death."
"Nay, 'tis life," said Simontault, "for they deem it no small glory to be reputed more crafty than their fellows. And the reputation of 'crafty,' gained thus at their own expense, brings lovers more readily under subjection to them than does their beauty, for one of the greatest delights shared by those who are in love is to conduct the affair slyly."
"You speak," said Ennasuite, "of wanton love, for the honourable has no need of concealment."
"Ah!" said Dagoucin, "I pray you put that thought out of your head.
The more precious the drug, the less should it be exposed to the air, because of the perverseness of those who trust only to outward signs.
These are not different in the case of honourable and faithful affection than in any other case, so they must none the less be hidden when the love is virtuous than when it is the opposite, if one would avoid the evil opinion of those who cannot believe that a man may love a lady in all honour, and who, being themselves slaves to pleasure, think every one else the same. If we were all of good faith, look and speech would be without concealment, at least toward those who would rather die than take them in an evil sense."
"I protest to you, Dagoucin," said Hircan, "that your philosophy is too deep for any man here to understand or believe. You would have us think that men are angels, or stones, or devils."
"I am well aware," said Dagoucin, "that men are men and subject to every passion, but there are some, nevertheless, who would rather die than that their mistresses should, for their delight, do aught against their consciences."
"To die means a great deal," said Geburon. "I would not believe that of them were it uttered by the lips of the austerest monk alive."
"Nay, I believe," said Hircan, "that there is none but desires the very opposite. But they make pretence of disliking the grapes when these hang too high to be gathered."
"Still," said Nomcrfide, "I am sure that the Prince's wife was very glad to find that her husband was learning to know women."
"I assure you it was not so," said Ennasuite. "She was very sorry on account of the love that she bore the lady."
"I would as soon," said Saffredent, "have the lady who laughed when her husband kissed her maid."
"In sooth," said Ennasuite, "you shall tell us the story. I give place to you."
"Although the story is very short," said Saffredent, "I will still relate it, for I would rather make you laugh than speak myself at length."
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[Illustration: 037a.jpg The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing]
[The Lady watching the Shadow Faces Kissing]
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_TALE LIV_.
_Thogas's wife, believing that her husband loved none but herself, was pleased that her serving-woman should amuse him, and laughed when in her presence he kissed the girl before her eyes, and with her knowledge_.
Between the Pyrenees Mountains and the Alps, there dwelt a gentleman named Thogas, (1) who had a wife and children, with a very beautiful house, and so much wealth and pleasure at his hand, that there was reason he should live in contentment, had it not been that he was subject to great pain beneath the roots of the hair, in such wise that the doctors advised him to sleep no longer with his wife. She, whose chief thought was for her husband's life and health, readily consented, and caused her bed to be set in another corner of the room directly opposite her husband's, so that they could neither of them put out their heads without seeing each other.
1 We are unable to trace any family named Thogas, which is probably a fictitious appellation. Read backwards with the letter h omitted it forms Sagot, whilst if the syllables be transposed it suggests Guasto, a well-known Basque or Navarrese name.--Ed.
This lady had two serving-women, and often when the lord and his lady were in bed, they would each take some diverting book to read, whilst the serving-women held candles, the younger, that is, for the gentleman, and the other for his wife.
The gentleman, finding that the maid was younger and handsomer than her mistress, took such great pleasure in observing her that he would break off his reading in order to converse with her. His wife could hear this very plainly, but believing that her husband loved none but herself, she was well pleased that her servants should amuse him.
It happened one evening, however, when they had read longer than was their wont, that the lady looked towards her husband's bed where was the young serving-maid holding the candle. Of her she could see nothing but her back, and of her husband nothing at all excepting on the side of the chimney, which jutted out in front of his bed, and the white wall of which was bright with the light from the candle. And upon this wall she could plainly see the shadows both of her husband and of her maid; whether they drew apart, or came near together or laughed, it was all as clear to her as though she had veritably beheld them.
The gentleman, using no precaution since he felt sure that his wife could not see them, kissed her maid, and on the first occasion his wife suffered this to pass without uttering a word. But when she saw that the shadows frequently returned to this fellowship, she feared that there might be some reality beneath it all, and burst into a loud laugh, whereat the shadows were alarmed and separated.
The gentleman then asked his wife why she was laughing so heartily, so that he might have a share in her merriment.
"Husband," she replied, "I am so foolish that I laugh at my own shadow."
Inquire as he might, she would never acknowledge any other reason, but, nevertheless, he thenceforward refrained from kissing such shadow-faces.
"That is the story of which I was reminded when I spoke of the lady who loved her husband's sweetheart."
"By my faith," said Ennasuite, "if my maid had treated me in that fashion, I should have risen and extinguished the candle upon her nose."
"You are indeed terrible," said Hircan, "but it had been well done if your husband and the maid had both turned upon you and beaten you soundly. There should not be so much ado for a kiss; and 'twould have been better if his wife had said nothing about it, and had suffered him to take his pastime, which might perchance have cured his complaint."
"Nay," said Parlamente, "she was afraid that the end of the pastime would make him worse."
"She was not one of those," said Oisille, "against whom our Lord says, 'We have mourned to you and ye have not lamented, we have sung to you and ye have not danced,' (2) for when her husband was ill, she wept, and when he was merry, she laughed. In the same fashion every virtuous woman ought to share the good and evil, the joy and the sadness of her husband, and serve and obey him as the Church does Jesus Christ."
2 "They are like unto children sitting in the market-place, and calling one to another, and saying, We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye have not wept."--_St. Luke_ vii. 32.--M.
"Then, ladies," said Parlamente, "our husbands should be to us what Christ is to the Church."
"So are we," said Saffredent, "and, if it were possible, something more; for Christ died but once for His Church, whereas we die daily for our wives."
"Die!" said Longarine. "Methinks that you and the others here present are now worth more crowns than you were worth pence before you were wed."
"And I know why," said Saffredent; "it is because our worth is often tried. Still our shoulders are sensible of having worn the cuirass so long."