8 According to MS. No. 1520 (Bib. Nat., Paris), the Abbotalso furnished them with the best horses of Lavedan and good“cappes” of Beam. The Lavedan horses were renowned for theirspeed and spirit, and the Bearnese cappe was a cloakprovided with a hood.—B. J.
These they crossed more often on foot than on horseback, and after much toil and sweat came to Our Lady of Serrance. Here the Abbot, although somewhat evilly disposed, durst not deny them lodging for fear of the Lord of Beam,(9) who, as he was aware, held them in high esteem. Being a true hypocrite, he showed them as fair a countenance as he could, and took them to see the Lady Oisille and the gentle knight Simontault.
9 The Kings of Navarre had been Lords of Beam for twocenturies, but Beam still retained its old customs and hadits special government. The Lord of Beam here referred towas Henry d’Albret, Margaret’s second husband.—B. J.
The joyfulness of all this company who had been thus miraculously brought together was so great that the night seemed short to them while praising God in the Church for the goodness that He had shown to them. When towards morning they had taken a little rest, they all went to hear mass and receive the holy sacrament of fellowship, in which all Christians are joined together as one, imploring Him who of His mercy had thus united them, that He would further their journey to His glory. After they had dined they sent to learn whether the waters were at all abated, and found that, on the contrary, they were rather increased, and could not be crossed with safety for a long time to come. They therefore determined to make a bridge resting on two rocks which come very close together, and where there are still planks for those foot-passengers who, coming from Oleron, wish to avoid crossing at the ford. The Abbot was well pleased that they should make this outlay, to the end that the number of pilgrims might be increased, and he furnished them with workmen, though he was too avaricious to give them a single farthing.
The workmen declared that they could not finish the bridge in less than ten or twelve days, and all the company, both ladies and gentlemen, began to grow weary. But Parlamente, who was Hircan’s wife, and who was never idle or melancholy, asked leave of her husband to speak, and said to the aged Lady Oisille—
“I am surprised, madam, that you who have so much experience, and now fill the place of mother to all of us women, do not devise some pastime to relieve the weariness we shall feel during our long stay; for if we have not some pleasant and virtuous occupation we shall be in danger of falling ill.”
“Nay,” added the young widow Longarine, “worse than that, we shall become ill-tempered, which is an incurable disease; for there is not one among us but has cause to be exceeding downcast, having regard to our several losses.”
Ennasuite laughing replied—
“Every one has not lost her husband like you, and the loss of servants need not bring despair, since others may readily be found. Nevertheless, I too am of opinion that we should have some pleasant exercise with which to while away the time, for otherwise we shall be dead by to-morrow.”
All the gentlemen agreed with what these ladies said, and begged Oisille to tell them what they should do.
“My children,” she replied, “you ask me for something which I find very difficult to teach you, namely, a pastime that may deliver you from your weariness. I have sought for such a remedy all my life and have never found but one, which is the reading of the Holy Scriptures. In them the mind may find that true and perfect joy from which repose and bodily health proceed. If you would know by what means I continue so blithe and healthy in my old age, it is because on rising I immediately take up the Holy Scriptures (10) and read therein, and so perceive and contemplate the goodness of God, who sent His Son into the world to proclaim to us the Sacred Word and glad tidings by which He promises the remission of all sins and the satisfaction of all debts by the gift that He has made us of His love, passion, and merits.
10 Margaret read a portion of the Scriptures every day,saying that the perusal preserved one “from all sorts ofevils and diabolical temptations” (Histoire de Foix, Béarn,et Navarre, by P. Olhagaray, Paris, 1609, p. 502).—L.
“The thought of this gives me such joy that I take my Psalter and in all humility sing with my heart and utter with my lips the sweet psalms and canticles which the Holy Spirit put into the heart of David and of other writers. And so acceptable is the contentment that this brings to me, that any evils which may befall me during the day I look upon as blessings, seeing that I have in my heart, through faith, Him who has borne them all for me. In the same way before supper I retire to feed my soul by reading, and then in the evening I call to mind all I have done during the past day, in order that I may ask forgiveness for my sins, thank Him for His mercies, and, feeling safe from all harm, take my rest in His love, fear, and peace. This, my children, is the pastime I have long practised, after making trial of all others and finding in none contentment of spirit. I believe that if you give an hour every morning to reading and then offer up devout prayers during mass, you will find in this lonely place all the beauty that any town could afford. One who knows God sees all things fair in Him, and without Him everything seems uncomely; wherefore, I pray you, accept my advice, if you would live in gladness.”
Then Hircan took up the discourse and said—
“Those, madam, who have read the Holy Scriptures, as I believe we all have done, will acknowledge that what you have said is true. You must, however, consider that we are not yet so mortified that we have not need of some pastime and bodily exercise. When we are at home we have the chase and hawking, which cause us to lay aside a thousand foolish thoughts, and the ladies have their household cares, their work, and sometimes the dance, in all which they find honourable exercise. So, speaking on behalf of the men, I propose that you, who are the oldest, read to us in the morning about the life that was led by Our Lord Jesus Christ and the great and wonderful works that He did for us; and that between dinner and vespers we choose some pastime that shall be pleasant to the body and yet not hurtful to the soul. In this way we shall pass the day cheerfully.”
The Lady Oisille replied that she had been at pains to forget every description of worldly vanity, and she therefore feared that she should succeed but ill in the choice of such an entertainment. The matter must be decided by the majority of opinions, and she begged Hircan to set forth his own first.
“For my part,” said he, “if I thought that the pastime I should choose would be as agreeable to the company as to myself, my opinion would soon be given. For the present, however, I withhold it, and will abide by what the rest shall say.”
His wife Parlamente, thinking he referred to her, began to blush, and, half in anger and half laughing, replied—
“Perhaps, Hircan, she who you think would find it most dull might readily find means of compensation had she a mind for it. But let us leave aside a pastime in which only two can share, and speak of one that shall be common to all.”
“Since my wife has understood the meaning of my words so well,” said Hircan to all the ladies, “and a private pastime is not to her liking, I think she will be better able than any one else to name one that all may enjoy; and I herewith give in to her opinion, having no other of my own.”
To this all the company agreed.
Parlamente, perceiving that it had fallen to her to decide, spoke as follows—
“Did I find myself as capable as the ancients who invented the arts, I should devise some sport or pastime in fulfilment of the charge you lay upon me. But knowing as I do my knowledge and capacity, which are scarcely able to recall the worthy performances of others, I shall think myself happy if I can follow closely such as have already satisfied your request. Among the rest, I think there is not one of you who has not read the Hundred Tales of Boccaccio, (11) lately translated from the Italian into French. So highly were these thought of by King Francis, first of that name, Monseigneur the Dauphin, (12) Madame the Dauphiness, and Madame Margaret, that could Boccaccio have only heard them from the place where he lay, the praise of such illustrious persons would have raised him from the dead.
11 Margaret here alludes to the French translation of theDecameronmade by her secretary, Anthony le Maçon, andfirst issued in Paris in 1545. Messrs. De Lincy andMontaiglon accordingly think that the prologue of theHeptameronwas written subsequently to that date; but M.Dillaye states that Le Maçon’s translation was circulated atCourt in manuscript long before it was printed. Thiscontention is in some measure borne out by Le Maçon’sdedication to Margaret, of which the more interestingpassages are given in the Appendix to this volume (A).—ED.12 The Dauphin here mentioned is Francis I.‘s second son,who subsequently reigned as Henry II. He became Dauphin bythe death of his elder brother on August 10, 1536. TheDauphiness is Catherine de’ Medici, the wife of Henry, whomhe married in 1533; whilst Madame Margaret, according to M.de Montaiglon, is the Queen of Navarre herself, she beingusually called by that name at her brother’s Court. M.Dillaye, who is of a different opinion, maintains that theQueen would not write so eulogistically of herself, and thatshe evidently refers to her brother’s daughter, Margaret deBerry, born in 1523, and married to the Duke of Savoy.—Ed.
Now I heard not long since that the two ladies I have mentioned, together with several others of the Court, determined to do like Boccaccio, with, however, one exception—they would not write any story that was not a true one. And the said ladies, and Monseigneur the Dauphin with them, undertook to tell ten stories each, and to assemble in all ten persons, from among those whom they thought the most capable of relating something. Such as had studied and were people of letters were excepted, for Monseigneur the Dauphin would not allow of their art being brought in, fearing lest the flowers of rhetoric should in some wise prove injurious to the truth of the tales. But the weighty affairs in which the King had engaged, the peace between him and the King of England, the bringing to bed of the Dauphiness,(13) and many other matters of a nature to engross the whole Court, caused the enterprise to be entirely forgotten.
13 The confinement mentioned here is that of Catherine deMedici, who, after remaining childless during ten years ofwedlock, gave birth to a son, afterwards Francis II., inJanuary 1543. The peace previously spoken of would appear tobe that signed at Crespy in September 1544. Both M. deMontaiglon and M. Dillaye are of opinion, however, that aword or two is deficient in the MS., and that Margaretintended to imply the rupture of peace in 1543, when HenryVIII. allied himself with the Emperor Charles V. againstFrancis I.—Ed.
By reason, however, of our now great leisure, it can be accomplished in ten days, whilst we wait for our bridge to be finished. If it so pleased you, we might go every day from noon till four of the clock into yonder pleasant meadow beside the river Gave. The trees there are so leafy that the sun can neither penetrate the shade nor change the coolness to heat. Sitting there at our ease, we might each one tell a story of something we have ourselves seen, or heard related by one worthy of belief. At the end of ten days we shall have completed the hundred,(14) and if God wills it that our work be found worthy in the eyes of the lords and ladies I have mentioned, we will on our return from this journey present them with it, in lieu of images and paternosters,(15) and feeling assured that they will hold this to be a more pleasing gift. If, however, any one can devise some plan more agreeable than mine, I will fall in with his opinion.”
14 This passage plainly indicates that the Queen meant topen a Decameron.—Ed.15 This is an allusion to the holy images, medals, andchaplets which people brought back with them frompilgrimages.—B. J.
All the company replied that it was not possible to give better advice, and that they awaited the morning in impatience, in order to begin.
Thus they spent that day joyously, reminding one another of what they had seen in their time. As soon as the morning was come they went to the room of Madame Oisille, whom they found already at her prayers. They listened to her reading for a full hour, then piously heard mass, and afterwards went to dinner at ten o’clock.(16)
16 At that period ten o’clock was the Court dinner-hour.Fifty years earlier people used to dine at eight in themorning. Louis XII., however, changed the hour of his mealsto suit his wife, Mary of England, who had been accustomedto dine at noon.—B. J.
After dinner each one withdrew to his chamber, and did what he had to do. According to their plan, at noon they failed not to return to the meadow, which was so fair and pleasant that it would need a Boccaccio to describe it as it really was; suffice to say that a fairer was never seen.
When the company were all seated on the green grass, which was so fine and soft that they needed neither cushion nor carpet, Simontault commenced by saying—
“Which of us shall begin before the others?”
“Since you were the first to speak,” replied Hircan,” ’tis reasonable that you should rule us; for in sport we are all equal.”
“Would to God,” said Simontault, “I had no worse fortune in this world than to be able to rule all the company present.”
On hearing this Parlamente, who well knew what it meant, began to cough. Hircan, therefore, did not perceive the colour that came into her cheeks, but told Simontault to begin, which he did as presently follows.
039a.jpg Du Mesnil Learns his Mistress’s Infidelity from Her Maid
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On the First Day are recounted the ill-turns which have been done by Women to Men and by Men to Women.
The wife of a Proctor, having been pressingly solicited bythe Bishop of Sees, took him for her profit, and, being aslittle satisfied with him as with her husband, found a meansto have the son of the Lieutenant-General of Alençon for herpleasure. Some time afterwards she caused the latter to bemiserably murdered by her husband, who, although he obtainedpardon for the murder, was afterwards sent to the galleyswith a sorcerer named Gallery; and all this was broughtabout by the wickedness of his wife.(1)
1 The incidents of this story are historical, and occurredin Alençon and Paris between 1520 and 1525.—L.
Ladies, said Simontault, I have been so poorly rewarded for my long service, that to avenge myself upon Love, and upon her who treats me so cruelly, I shall be at pains to make a collection of all the ill turns that women hath done to hapless men; and moreover I will relate nothing but the simple truth.
In the town of Alençon, during the lifetime of Charles, the last Duke,(2) there was a Proctor named St. Aignan, who had married a gentlewoman of the neighbourhood. She was more beautiful than virtuous, and on account of her beauty and light behaviour was much sought after by the Bishop of Sees,(3) who, in order to compass his ends, managed the husband so well, that the latter not only failed to perceive the vicious conduct of his wife and of the Bishop, but was further led to forget the affection he had always shown in the service of his master and mistress.
2 The Duke Charles here alluded to is Margaret’s firsthusband.—Ed.3 Sees or Séez, on the Orne, thirteen miles from Alençon,and celebrated for its Gothic cathedral, is one of theoldest bishoprics in Normandy. Richard Coeur-de-Lion is saidto have here done penance and obtained absolution for hisconduct towards his father, Henry II. At the time of thisstory the Bishop of Sees was James de Silly, whose father,also James de Silly, Lord of Lonray, Vaux-Pacey, &c, afavourite and chamberlain of King Louis XII., became Masterof the Artillery of France in 1501. The second James deSilly—born at Caen—was ordained Bishop of Sees on February26th, 1511; he was also Abbot of St. Vigor and St. Pierre-sur-Dives, where he restored and beautified the abbatialchurch. In 1519 he consecrated a convent for women of noblebirth, founded by Margaret and her first husband at Essey,twenty miles from Alençon, the ruins of which still exist. Ayear later Francis Rometens dedicated to him an edition ofthe letters of Pico della Mirandola. He died April 24th,1539, at Fleury-sur-Aiidellé, about fifteen miles fromRouen, and was buried in his episcopal church. (SeeGalliaChristiana, vol. xi. p. 702.) His successor in the See ofSees was Nicholas Danguye, or Dangu (a natural son ofCardinal Duprat), with whom M. Frank tries to identifyDagoucin, one of the narrators of theHeptameron.—L. andEd.
Thus, from being a loyal servant, he became utterly adverse to them, and at last sought out sorcerers to procure the death of the Duchess.(4) Now for a long time the Bishop consorted with this unhappy woman, who submitted to him from avarice rather than from love, and also because her husband urged her to show him favour. But there was a youth in the town of Alençon, son of the Lieutenant-General,(5) whom she loved so much that she was half crazy regarding him; and she often availed herself of the Bishop to have some commission intrusted to her husband, so that she might see the son of the Lieutenant, who was named Du Mesnil, at her ease.
4 This was of course Margaret herself.—Ed5 Gilles du Mesnil, Lieutenant-General of the presidialbailiwick and Sénéchaussée of Alençon.—B. J.
This mode of life lasted a long time, during which she had the Bishop for her profit and the said Du Mesnil for her pleasure. To the latter she swore that she showed a fair countenance to the Bishop only that their own love might the more freely continue; that the Bishop, in spite of appearances, had obtained only words, from her; and that he, Du Mesnil, might rest assured that no man, save himself, should ever receive aught else.
One day, when her husband was setting forth to visit the Bishop, she asked leave of him to go into the country, saying that the air of the town was injurious to her; and, when she had arrived at her farm, she forthwith wrote to Du Mesnil to come and see her, without fail, at about ten o’clock in the evening. This the young man did; but as he was entering at the gate he met the maid who was wont to let him in, and who said to him, “Go elsewhere, friend, for your place is taken.”
Supposing that the husband had arrived, he asked her how matters stood. The woman, seeing that he was so handsome, youthful, and well-bred, and was withal so loving and yet so little loved, took pity upon him and told him of his mistress’s wantonness, thinking that on hearing this he would be cured of loving her so much. She related to him that the Bishop of Sees had but just arrived, and was now in bed with the lady, a thing which the latter had not expected, for he was not to have come until the morrow. However, he had detained her husband at his house, and had stolen away at night to come secretly and see her. If ever man was in despair it was Du Mesnil, who nevertheless was quite unable to believe the story. He hid himself, however, in a house near by, and watched until three hours after midnight, when he saw the Bishop come forth disguised, yet not so completely but that he could recognise him more readily than he desired.
Du Mesnil in his despair returned to Alençon, whither, likewise, his wicked mistress soon came, and went to speak to him, thinking to deceive him according to her wont. But he told her that, having touched sacred things, she was too holy to speak to a sinner like himself, albeit his repentance was so great that he hoped his sin would very soon be forgiven him. When she learnt that her deceit was found out, and that excuses, oaths, and promises never to act in a like way again were of no avail, she complained of it to her Bishop. Then, having weighed the matter with him, she went to her husband and told him that she could no longer dwell in the town of Alençon, for the Lieutenant’s son, whom he had so greatly esteemed among his friends, pursued her unceasingly to rob her of her honour. She therefore begged of him to abide at Argentan,(6) in order that all suspicion might be removed.
6 Argentan, on the Orne, twenty-six miles from Alençon, hadbeen a distinct viscounty, but at this period it belonged tothe duchy of Alençon.—Ed.
The husband, who suffered himself to be ruled by his wife, consented; but they had not been long at Argentan when this bad woman sent a message to Du Mesnil, saying that he was the wickedest man in the world, for she knew full well that he had spoken evilly (sic.) of her and of the Bishop of Sees; however, she would strive her best to make him repent of it.
The young man, who had never spoken of the matter except to herself, and who feared to fall into the bad graces of the Bishop, repaired to Argentan with two of his servants, and finding his mistress at vespers in the church of the Jacobins,(7) he went and knelt beside her, and said—
“I am come hither, madam, to swear to you before God that I have never spoken of your honour to any person but yourself. You treated me so ill that I did not make you half the reproaches you deserved; but if there be man or woman ready to say that I have ever spoken of the matter to them, I am here to give them the lie in your presence.”
7 The name of Jacobins was given to the monks of theDominican Order, some of whom had a monastery in the suburbsof Argentan.—Ed.
Seeing that there were many people in the church, and that he was accompanied by two stout serving-men, she forced herself to speak as graciously as she could. She told him that she had no doubt he spoke the truth, and that she deemed him too honourable a man to make evil report of any one in the world; least of all of herself, who bore him so much friendship; but since her husband had heard the matter spoken of, she begged him to say in his presence that he had not so spoken and did not so believe.
To this he willingly agreed, and, wishing to attend her to her house, he offered to take her arm; but she told him it was not desirable that he should come with her, for her husband would think that she had put these words into his mouth. Then, taking one of his serving-men by the sleeve, she said—
“Leave me this man, and as soon as it is time I will send him to seek you. Meanwhile do you go and rest in your lodging.”
He, having no suspicion of her conspiracy against him, went thither.
She gave supper to the serving-man whom she had kept with her, and who frequently asked her when it would be time to go and seek his master; but she always replied that his master would come soon enough. When it was night, she sent one of her own serving-men to fetch Du Mesnil; and he, having no suspicion of the mischief that was being prepared for him, went boldly to St. Aignan’s house. As his mistress was still entertaining his servant there, he had but one with himself.
Just as he was entering the house, the servant who had been sent to him told him that the lady wished to speak with him before he saw her husband, and that she was waiting for him in a room where she was alone with his own serving-man; he would therefore do well to send his other servant away by the front door. This he did. Then while he was going up a small, dark stairway, the Proctor St. Aignan, who had placed some men in ambush in a closet, heard the noise, and demanded what it was; whereupon he was told that a man was trying to enter secretly into his house.
At the moment, a certain Thomas Guérin, a murderer by trade, who had been hired by the Proctor for the purpose, came forward and gave the poor young man so many sword-thrusts that whatever defence he was able to make could not save him from falling dead in their midst.
Meanwhile the servant who was waiting with the lady, said to her—
“I hear my master speaking on the stairway. I will go to him.”
But the lady stopped him and said—
“Do not trouble yourself; he will come soon enough.”
A little while afterwards the servant, hearing his master say, “I am dying, may God receive my soul!” wished to go to his assistance, but the lady again withheld him, saying—
“Do not trouble yourself; my husband is only chastising him for his follies. We will go and see what it is.”
Then, leaning over the balustrade at the top of the stairway, she asked her husband—
“Well, is it done?”
“Come and see,” he replied. “I have now avenged you on the man who put you to such shame.”
So saying, he drove a dagger that he was holding ten or twelve times into the belly of a man whom, alive, he would not have dared to assail.
When the murder had been accomplished, and the two servants of the dead man had fled to carry the tidings to the unhappy father, St. Aignan bethought himself that the matter could not be kept secret. But he reflected that the testimony of the dead man’s servants would not be believed, and that no one in his house had seen the deed done, except the murderers, and an old woman-servant, and a girl fifteen years of age. He secretly tried to seize the old woman, but, finding means to escape out of his hands, she sought sanctuary with the Jacobins,(8) and was afterwards the most trustworthy witness of the murder. The young maid remained for a few days in St. Aignan’s house, but he found means to have her led astray by one of the murderers, and had her conveyed to a brothel in Paris so that her testimony might not be received.(9)
8 It was still customary to take sanctuary in churches,monasteries, and convents at this date, although but littlerespect was shown for the refugees, whose hiding-places wereoften surrounded so that they might be kept without food andforced to surrender. After being considerably restricted byan edict issued in 1515, the right of sanctuary wasabolished by Francis I. in 1539.—B. J. and D.9 Prostitutes were debarred from giving evidence in Frenchcourts of law at this period.—D.
To conceal the murder, he caused the corpse of the hapless dead man to be burnt, and the bones which were not consumed by the fire he caused to be placed in some mortar in a part of his house where he was building. Then he sent in all haste to the Court to sue for pardon, setting forth that he had several times forbidden his house to a person whom he suspected of plotting his wife’s dishonour, and who, notwithstanding his prohibition, had come by night to see her in a suspicious fashion; whereupon, finding him in the act of entering her room, his anger had got the better of his reason and he had killed him.
But before he was able to despatch his letter to the Chancellor’s, the Duke and Duchess had been apprised by the unhappy father of the matter, and they sent a message to the Chancellor to prevent the granting of the pardon. Finding he could not obtain it, the wretched man fled to England with his wife and several of his relations. But before setting out he told the murderer who at his entreaty had done the deed, that he had seen expresses from the King directing that he should be taken and put to death. Nevertheless, on account of the service that he had rendered him, he desired to save his life, and he gave him ten crowns wherewith to leave the kingdom. The murderer did this, and was afterwards seen no more.
The murder was so fully proven by the servants of the dead man, by the woman who had taken refuge with the Jacobins, and by the bones that were found in the mortar, that legal proceedings were begun and completed in the absence of St. Aignan and his wife. They were judged by default and were both condemned to death. Their property was confiscated to the Prince, and fifteen hundred crowns were to be given to the dead man’s father to pay the costs of the trial.
St. Aignan being in England and perceiving that in the eyes of the law he was dead in France, by means of his services to divers great lords and by the favour of his wife’s relations, induced the King of England (10) to request the King of France (11) to grant him a pardon and restore him to his possessions and honours. But the King of France, having been informed of the wickedness and enormity of the crime, sent the process to the King of England, praying him to consider whether the offence was one deserving of pardon, and telling him that no one in the kingdom but the Duke of Alençon had the right to grant a pardon in that duchy. However, notwithstanding all his excuses, he failed to appease the King of England, who continued to entreat him so very pressingly that, at his request, the Proctor at last received a pardon and so returned to his own home.(12) There, to complete his wickedness, he consorted with a sorcerer named Gallery, hoping that by this man’s art he might escape payment of the fifteen hundred crowns to the dead man’s father.
10 Henry VIII.11 Francis I.12 The letters of remission which were granted to St. Aignanon this occasion will be found in the Appendix to the FirstDay (B). It will be noted that Margaret in her story givesvarious particulars which St. Aignan did not fail to concealin view of obtaining his pardon.—L.
To this end he went in disguise to Paris with his wife. She, finding that he used to shut himself up for a great while in a room with Gallery without acquainting her with the reason thereof, spied upon him one morning, and perceived Gallery showing him five wooden images, three of which had their hands hanging down, whilst two had them lifted up.(13)
“We must make waxen images like these,” said Gallery, speaking to the Proctor. “Such as have their arms hanging down will be for those whom we shall cause to die, and the others with their arms raised will be for the persons from whom you would fain have love and favour.”
“This one,” said the Proctor, “shall be for the King by whom I would fain be loved, and this one for Monseigneur Brinon, Chancellor of Alençon.” (14)
13 This refers to the superstitious practice calledenvoûtement, which, according to M. Léon de Laborde, waswell known in France in 1316, and subsisted until thesixteenth century. In 1330 the famous Robert d’Artois, uponretiring to Brabant, occupied himself with pricking waxenimages which represented King Philip VI., his brother-in-law, and the Queen, his sister. (Mémoires de l’Académie desInscriptions, vol. xv. p. 426.) During the League theenemies of Henri III. and the King of Navarre revived thispractice.—(L.) It would appear also from a document in theHarley MSS. (18,452, Bib. N’at., Paris) that Cosmo Ruggieri,the Florentine astrologer, Catherine de’ Medici’sconfidential adviser, was accused in 1574 of having made awax figure in view of casting a spell upon Charles IX.—M.14 John Brinon, Councillor of the King, President of theParliament of Rouen, Chancellor of Alençon and Berry, Lordof Villaines (near Dreux), Remy, and Athueuil (nearMontfort-l’Amaury), belonged to an old family of judicialfunctionaries. He was highly esteemed by Margaret, severalof whose letters are addressed to him, and he was present atthe signing of her marriage contract with Henry II. ofNavarre (Génin’sLettres de Marguerite, p. 444). Hemarried Pernelle Perdrier, who brought him the lordship ofMédan, near Poissy, and other important fiefs, which afterhis death she presented to the King. His praises were sungby Le Chandelier, the poet; and M. Floquet, in his Historyof the Parliament of Normandy, states that Brinon renderedmost important services to France as a negotiator in Italyin 1521, and in England in 1524. TheJournal d’un Bourgeoisde Parismentions that he died in Paris in 1528, agedforty-four, and was buried in the Church of St. Severin.—L.According to La Croix du Maine’sBibliothèque Françoise,Brinon was the author of a poem entitledLes Amours deSydire.—B. J.
“The images,” said Gallery, “must be set under the altar, to hear mass, with words that I will presently tell you to say.”
Then, speaking of those images that had their arms lowered, the Proctor said that one should be for Master Gilles du Mesnil, father of the dead man, for he knew that as long as the father lived he would not cease to pursue him. Moreover, one of the women with their hands hanging down was to be for the Duchess of Alençon, sister to the King; for she bore so much love to her old servant, Du Mesnil, and had in so many other matters become acquainted with the Proctor’s wickedness, that except she died he could not live. The second woman that had her arms hanging down was his own wife, who was the cause of all his misfortune, and who he felt sure would never amend her evil life.
When his wife, who could see everything through the keyhole, heard him placing her among the dead, she resolved to send him among them first. On pretence of going to borrow some money, she went to an uncle she had, named Neaufle, who was Master of Requests to the Duke of Alençon, and informed him of what she had seen and heard. Neaufle, like the old and worthy servant that he was, went forthwith to the Chancellor of Alençon and told him the whole story.
As the Duke and Duchess of Alençon were not at Court that day, the Chancellor related this strange business to the Regent,(15) mother of the King and the Duchess, and she sent in all haste for the Provost of Paris,(16) who made such speed that he at once seized the Proctor and his sorcerer, Gallery. Without constraint or torture they freely confessed their guilt, and their case was made out and laid before the King.
15 Louise of Savoy.16 John de la Barre, a favourite of Francis I. See note toTale lxiii. (vol. v.), in which he plays a conspicuouspart.—Ed.
Certain persons, wishing to save their lives, told him that they had only sought his good graces by their enchantments; but the King, holding his sister’s life as dear as his own, commanded that the same sentence should be passed on them as if they had made an attempt on his own person.
However, his sister, the Duchess of Alençon, entreated that the Proctor’s life might be spared, and the sentence of death be commuted to some heavy punishment. This request was granted her, and St. Aignan and Gallery were sent to the galleys of St. Blancart at Marseilles,(17) where they ended their days in close captivity, and had leisure to ponder on the grievousness of their crimes. The wicked wife, in the absence of her husband, continued in her sinful ways even more than before, and at last died in wretchedness.
17 This passage is explained by Henri Bouché, who states inhisHistoire Chronologique de Provence(vol. ii. p. 554),that after Francis I.‘s voyage in captivity to Spain it wasjudged expedient that France should have several galleys inthe Mediterranean, and that “orders were accordingly givenfor thirteen to be built at Marseilles—four for the Baronde Saint-Blancart, as many for Andrew Doria, &c.” The Baronde Saint-Blancart here referred to was Bernard d’Ormezan,Admiral of the seas of the Levant, Conservator of the portsand tower of Aigues-Mortes, and General of the King’sgalleys. In 1523 he defeated the naval forces of the EmperorCharles V., and in 1525 conducted Margaret to Spain.—L.(See Memoir of Margaret, p. xli.)
“I pray you, ladies, consider what evil is caused by a wicked woman, and how many evils sprang from the sins of the one I have spoken of. You will find that ever since Eve caused Adam to sin, all women have set themselves to bring about the torment, slaughter and damnation of men. For myself, I have had such experience of their cruelty that I expect to die and be damned simply by reason of the despair into which one of them has cast me. And yet so great a fool am I, that I cannot but confess that hell coming from her hand is more pleasing than Paradise would be from the hand of another.”
Parlamente, pretending she did not understand that it was touching herself he spoke in this fashion, said to him—
“Since hell is as pleasant as you say, you ought not to fear the devil who has placed you in it.”
“If my devil were to become as black as he has been cruel to me,” answered Simontault angrily, “he would cause the present company as much fright as I find pleasure in looking upon them; but the fires of love make me forget those of this hell. However, to speak no further concerning this matter, I give my vote to Madame Oisille to tell the second story. I feel sure she would support my opinion if she were willing to say what she knows about women.”
Forthwith all the company turned towards Oisille, and begged of her to proceed, to which she consented, and, laughing, began as follows—
“It seems to me, ladies, that he who has given me his vote has spoken so ill of our sex in his true story of a wicked woman, that I must call to mind all the years of my long life to find one whose virtue will suffice to gainsay his evil opinion. However, as I have bethought me of one worthy to be remembered, I will now relate her history to you.”
056.jpg Tailpiece
057a.jpg the Muleteer’s Servant Attacking his Mistress
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The wife of a muleteer of Amboise chose rather to diecruelly at the hands of her servant than to fall in with hiswicked purpose.(1)
In the town of Amboise there was a muleteer in the service of the Queen of Navarre, sister to King Francis, first of that name. She being at Blois, where she had been brought to bed of a son, the aforesaid muleteer went thither to receive his quarterly payment, whilst his wife remained at Amboise in a lodging beyond the bridges.(2)
1 The incidents of this story probably took place atAmboise, subsequent, however, to the month of August 1530,when Margaret was confined of her son John.—L.2 Amboise is on the left bank of the Loire, and there havenever been any buildings on the opposite bank. However,the bridge over the river intersects the island of St. Jean,which is covered with houses, and here the muleteer’s wifeevidently resided.—M.
Now it happened that one of her husband’s servants had long loved her exceedingly, and one day he could not refrain from speaking of it to her. She, however, being a truly virtuous woman, rebuked him so severely, threatening to have him beaten and dismissed by her husband, that from that time forth he did not venture to speak to her in any such way again or to let his love be seen, but kept the fire hidden within his breast until the day when his master had gone from home and his mistress was at vespers at St. Florentin,(3) the castle church, a long way from the muleteer’s house.