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diff --git a/old/67025-0.txt b/old/67025-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3eef652..0000000 --- a/old/67025-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12996 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lives of Fair and Gallant Ladies. Vol -1, by Seigneur De Brantôme - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Lives of Fair and Gallant Ladies. Vol 1 - -Author: Seigneur De Brantôme - -Release Date: December 27, 2021 [eBook #67025] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Chris Curnow, Quentin Campbell, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIVES OF FAIR AND GALLANT -LADIES. VOL 1 *** - - - Transcriber’s Note - -In the following transcription, italic text is denoted by _underscores_. -Small capitals in the original text have been transcribed as ALL -CAPITALS. - -Superscripts in the text are denoted by a prefixing caret symbol (^). -A letter (as in 8^o), or letters in curly braces (as in I^{er}), that -follow the caret symbol are to be read as superscripts. - -See end of this document for details of corrections and other changes. - - —————————————— Start of Book —————————————— - - - Lives of - - Fair and Gallant Ladies - - ———— - - VOLUME I - - - - - [Illustration: BRANTÔME] - - - - - Lives - - Of - - Fair and Gallant Ladies - - By - - The Seigneur De Brantôme - - - TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL - - - ———— - VOLUME I - ———— - - - The Alexandrian Society, Inc. - - London and New York - - 1922 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY - THE ALEXANDRIAN SOCIETY, INC. - - - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - _This work is strictly limited to twelve - hundred and fifty numbered sets, which are - for sale only to subscribers. The type has - been distributed on publication and no more - will be printed._ - - _Copy No._ .... - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - FOREWORD - - -This very fine and accurate translation of _The Lives of Fair and -Gallant Ladies_ was made by Mr. A. R. Allinson and because of its -merit must be considered one of the great English translations, -equalling in every quality those of the 16th and 17th centuries. The -text of Brantôme’s great work is given practically complete in these -volumes and the only modifications are based upon good taste and not -on any fearful prudery. A few of Brantôme’s examples that illustrate -his points belong more in a treatise on abnormal pathology than in a -book of literary or historical interest and value, so nothing of any -value is lost by omitting them. The rare charm, shrewd wisdom, amusing -anecdote, literary merit and historical and social information will be -appreciated by intelligent readers. - -The cover design used on this book was made by C. O. Czeschka. - - - - - [Illustration: BRANTÔME’S HANDWRITING. - - (From a fac-simile page of the manuscript - _Recueil des Dames_. Biblio. Nat: Mss. Nouv. fses. - No. 20-474, folio 163.)] - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - DEDICATION - TO MONSEIGNEUR LE DUC D’ALENÇON - OF BRABANT AND COUNT OF FLANDERS - - SON AND BROTHER OF OUR FRENCH KINGS[1*] - - - MY GRACIOUS LORD, - -Seeing how you have full often done me the honour at Court to converse -with me in great privity of sundry jests and merry tales, the which -are so familiar and ready with you they may well be said to grow apace -before men’s very eyes in your Lordship’s mouth, so great your wit is -and so keen and subtile, and your speech the same, and right eloquent -to boot,—for this cause have I set me to indite these discourses, such -as they be, to the best of my poor ability, to the end that in this -wise some of them may please you, making the time to pass lightly and -reminding you of me in your conversations, wherewith erstwhile you have -honoured me as much as any gentleman of all the Court. - -To you then, my Lord, do I dedicate this present book, and do beseech -you fortify the same with your name and authority, till that I may find -leisure to attend to discourses of a more serious content. Of such I -pray you note one in especial, the which I have all but finished, -wherein I do deduce a comparison of six great Princes and Captains -that be to-day abroad in this our Christendom, to wit: the King Henri -III. your brother, Your Highness’ self, the King of Navarre your -brother-in-law, the Duc de Guise, the Duc de Maine, and the Prince -of Parma, making record for each one of you of your noblest deeds of -valour and high emprize, of your excellencies and exploits, the full -tale and complement whereof I do resign to others better qualified than -I to indite the same. - -Meanwhile, My Lord, I do beseech God to bless you always more and more -in your greatness, happiness and nobility. - -And I am for all time - -Your very humble and very obedient subject and very loving servant. - - BOURDEILLE.[2] - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - REGRETTING - THE DEATH OF THE DUC D’ALENÇON - - -I had already dedicated this second Part of my Discourses on Women -to the aforesaid my Gracious Lord d’Alençon, the while he yet -lived,—seeing how he oft did me the honour to be my friend and to -converse very privily with me, and was ever right curious to be -informed of mirthful tales. Wherefore, albeit his generous and valorous -and most noble body hath fallen on the field of honour, I have not -thought good for that to recall my erstwhile dedication; but I do -repeat and renew the same to his illustrious ashes and noble spirit, of -the valorousness whereof and of his great deeds and high achievements -I do treat in their turn among those of the other great Princes and -Captains. For of a truth he was indeed a great Prince and a great -Captain, if such an one there was ever,—the more so considering he is -dead so untimeously. - -Enough of such serious themes; let us discourse a while of merrier -matters. - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - HISTORICAL NOTE. BY HENRI VIGNEAU xiii - - - FIRST DISCOURSE - - OF LADIES WHICH DO MAKE LOVE, AND THEIR HUSBANDS CUCKOLDS 3 - - - SECOND DISCOURSE - - ON THE QUESTION WHICH DOTH GIVE THE MORE CONTENT IN LOVE, - WHETHER TOUCHING, SEEING, OR SPEAKING 213 - - 1. OF THE SENSE OF TOUCH IN LOVE 215 - - 2. OF THE POWER OF SPEECH IN LOVE 226 - - 3. OF THE POWER OF SIGHT IN LOVE 233 - - - THIRD DISCOURSE - - CONCERNING THE BEAUTY OF A FINE LEG, AND THE VIRTUE THE - SAME DOTH POSSESS 273 - - - FOURTH DISCOURSE - - CONCERNING OLD DAMES AS FOND TO PRACTISE LOVE AS EVER THE - YOUNG ONES BE 293 - - BIBLIOGRAPHY 341 - - APPENDIX A. BRANTÔME, BY ARTHUR TILLEY 345 - - APPENDIX B. BRANTÔME, BY GEORGE SAINTSBURY 351 - - NOTES 355 - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - HISTORICAL NOTE - - -Pierre de Bourdeille, Abbé de Brantôme et d’André, Vicomte de -Bourdeille, was born in Périgord, in 1527, in the reign of François I. -He early took up the career of arms, serving under his friend François -de Guise, Duke of Lorraine, as his Captain, the same who was killed -before Orleans by Poltrot de Méré. Afterwards he came up to Court, -and was Gentleman of the Bedchamber under Charles IX., who showed him -much favour. On the King’s death he retired to his estates, where he -composed his Works. These are: _Vies des hommes illustres et des grands -capitaines françois_; _Vies des grands capitaines étrangers_; _Vies des -dames illustres_; _Vies des dames galantes_; _Anecdotes touchant le duel_; -and _Rodomontades et jurements des Espagnols_.—All that really concerns -us here is the _Vies des dames galantes_. It is especially from this -point of view that we propose to speak of Pierre de Bourdeille, known -almost exclusively to posterity under the name of Brantôme. As to his -Essays in the manner of Plutarch, these do not come into our purview at -all. Besides which, I am of opinion, it is in this book that Brantôme -appears under his most characteristic aspect, and that it is here we -may best learn to know and appreciate his genius. - -A gentleman of family, acknowledged and treated as kinsman by Queen -Margot, wife of Henry IV., living habitually in the society of the most -famous men of his time, a contemporary of Rabelais, Marot and Ronsard, -a sincere but unbigoted Catholic, a man of exceptional literary -endowments, Brantôme is one of the happiest representatives of the -French mind in the XVIth Century. - -It is the period of the Renaissance,—the days when Europe resounds with -the fame of our gallant King Francis I. and his deeds of prowess in -love and war, the days when Titian and Primaticcio were leaving behind -on French palace walls immortal traces of their genius, when Jean -Goujon was carving his admirable figures round the fountains of the -Louvre and across its front, when Rabelais was uttering his stupendous -guffaw, that was the Comedy of all human life, when Marot and Ronsard -were writing their graceful stanzas, when the fair “Marguerite des -Marguerites,”—the Queenly Pearl of Pearls,—was telling her delightful -tales of love and adventure in the _Heptameron_.—Then comes the death -of Francis I. His son mounts the throne. Protestantism makes serious -progress in France, and Montgomery precipitates the succession of -Francis II. This last wears the crown for one year only, succumbing to -a fatal inflammation of the ears. Then it is Mary Stuart leaves France -for ever, and with streaming eyes, as she watches the beloved shores -where she has been Queen of France fade out of sight, sings sad and -slow: - - Adieu, plaisant pays de France! - -And now we find seated on the throne of France a young Monarch of a -strange, wild, unattractive exterior. His eye is pale, colourless -and shifty, seeming to be void of all expression. He trusts no man, -and has no real assurance of his power as Sovereign; he looks long -and suspiciously at those about him before speaking, rarely bestows -his confidence and believes himself constantly surrounded by spies. -’Tis a nervous, timid child,—’tis Charles IX. History treats him with -an extreme severity; and the “St. Bartholomew” has thrown a lurid -light over this unhappy Prince’s figure. He allowed the massacres on -the fatal nights of the 24th and 25th of August, and even shot down -the flying Protestants from his palace roof. Without going into the -interminable discussions of historians as to this last alleged fact, -which is as strongly denied by some authorities as it is maintained -by others, I am not one of those who say hard things of Charles IX. -It is more a sentiment of pity I feel for him,—this monarch who loved -Brantôme and Marot, and who protected Henri IV. against Catherine -de Medici. I see him surrounded by brothers whom he had learned to -distrust. The Duc d’Alençon is on the spot, a legitimate object of -detestation by reason of the subterranean intrigues he is for ever -hatching against his person; while his other brother Henri (afterwards -Henri III.), Catherine’s favourite son, is in Poland, kept sedulously -informed of every variation in the Prince’s always feeble health, -waiting impatiently for the hour when he must hurry back to France to -secure the crown he covets. Then his sister’s vicious outbreaks are -a source of constant pain and anxiety to him; and last but not least -there is his mother Catherine de Medici, an incubus that crushed out -his very life-breath. He cannot forget the tortures his brother Francis -suffered from his mysterious malady, and his premature death after a -single year’s reign. - -Catherine hated Mary Stuart, his young Queen, whose only fault was to -have exaggerated in herself all the frailties together with all the -physical perfections of a woman; and dreadful words had been whispered -with bated breath about the Queen Mother. An Italian, deprived of -all power while her husband lived, insulted by a proud and beautiful -favourite, yet knowing herself well fitted for command, she had brought -up her children with ideas of respect and submission to her will they -were never able to throw off. The ill-will she bore her daughter-in-law -was the cause of all those accusations History has listened to over -readily. But Charles, a nervous, affectionate child, whose natural -impulses however had been chilled by his mother’s influence and the -indifference of his father Henri II., was thrown back on himself, and -grew up timid, suspicious and morose. The frantic love of Francis -for his fascinating Queen, the cold dignity of Catherine in face of -slights and cruel mortifications, her bitter disappointment during -her eldest son’s reign, her Italian origin (held then even more than -now to imply an implacable determination to avenge all injuries), her -indifference to the sudden and appalling death of the young King, the -insinuations of her enemies,—all combined to make a profound impression -on Charles, giving a furtive and, if we may say so, a haggard bent to -his character. Presently, seated on the throne of France, Huguenots and -Catholics all about him, exposed to the insults and pretensions of the -Guise faction on the one hand and that of Coligny on the other, dragged -now this way now that between the two, yet all the while instinctively -drawn toward the Catholic side by ancestral faith and his mother’s -counsels no less than by reasons of state, Charles signed the fatal -order authorizing the Massacre of the Saint Bartholomew. - - * * * * * - -Was the young King’s action justifiable or no? It is no business of -ours to discuss the question here; but much may be alleged in his -excuse. Again whether he did actually fire on the terrified Protestants -from the Louvre is a point vehemently debated,—but one it in no way -concerns us here to decide. There is no doubt however that, dating from -those two terrible nights, a steady decline declared itself in his -health and vitality. In no long time he died; and his brother Henri, -Duke of Anjou and King of Poland, duly warned of his approaching end, -arrived in hot haste to take over the crown to which he was next in -succession. - -This period of political and religious ferment was no less the period -_par excellence_ of gallantry. In its characteristics it bears -considerable resemblance to the days of the Empire. At both epochs -love was quick, fierce and violent. Hurry was the mark of the times. -In the midst of these everlasting struggles between Huguenot and -Catholic, who could be sure of to-morrow? So men made it a point to -indulge no attachment that was too serious,—for them love was become -a mere question of choice and quantity; while women avoided a grand -passion with a fervour worthy of a better cause. If ever a deep and -earnest passion does show itself, it is an exception, an anomaly; if -we find a woman stabbing her faithless husband to death on catching -him in the arms of another, let us not for an instant suppose ’tis -the fierce stirring of a loving heart which in the frenzy of its -jealousy avenges the wrong it has suffered,—to die presently of sorrow -and remorse, or at the least to suffer long and sorely. This act of -daring,—so carefully recorded by the chroniclers of the time,—is only -the effect of strong self-love cruelly wounded. But powerful as this -feeling may be, it would scarcely be adequate to explain so energetic -an act, if we did not remember how frequently ladies in the XVIth -Century were exposed to scenes of bloodshed. The dagger and the sword -were as familiar to their eyes as the needle; and Brantôme has devoted -a whole Discourse,—his Fifth, to courageous dames, and seems positively -to scorn weak and timid women! How opposite is this to the sentiment -of the present day, where one of the charms of womanhood is held to -consist in her having nothing in common with man and being for ever -in need of his protection. A few isolated cases then excepted, there -existed between men and women nothing better than what Chamfort has -wittily defined as “l’échange de deux fantaisies et le contact de deux -épidermes,”—in other words gallantry pure and simple. - -This then was the atmosphere our Author breathed. His life offers -nothing specially striking in the way of incident. No need for me -to take him from the arms of his nurse, to follow each of his steps -through life and piously close his eyes in death. He served his time -without special distinction or applause at the Court of Charles -IX. In all he did, he showed so modest a reserve that, but for his -Works, his very existence would have remained unknown. He is not like -Bussy-Rabutin, the incidents of whose wild and wicked life filled and -defaced a big book, or like Tallemant, whose diary, if diary it can -be called, was written day by day and recounted each day’s exploits. -Brantôme’s life and work leave little trace of his own personality, -beyond the impression of a genial, smiling, witty man of the world. I -will be as plain and discreet as himself, and will make no effort to -separate the Author from his book. - -Brantôme possesses one of those happy, gentle, well ordered natures, -which systematically avoid every form of excess and exaggeration. -His book _Des Dames Galantes_ is from beginning to end a protest -against immoderate passion. It is above all a work of taste. Its seven -Discourses are devoted exclusively to stories of love and passion, -yet a man must be straightlaced indeed to feel any sort of repulsion. -Another extraordinary merit! in spite of the monotony of the subject -matter, everlastingly the same, the reader’s attention never flags, and -one tale read, he is irresistibly drawn on to make acquaintance with -the next. - -Such praise, I am aware, is very high; and especially when we possess -such masterpieces in this _genre_ as the Tales of Boccaccio, of Pietro -Aretino, some of those of Ariosto, those of Voltaire, the short stories -of Tallemant des Réaux and the indiscretions of the _Histoire amoureuse -des Gaules_. I name only the most familiar examples. Of course all -these works do not offer a complete resemblance to the _Vies des Dames -Galantes_, but they all belong to the same race and family. I propose -to say a few passing words of each of these productions. - -The most remarkable among all these chroniclers of the frailties of -the female heart is undoubtedly Boccaccio. Pietro Aretino has done -himself an irreparable wrong by writing in such a vein that no decent -man dare confess to having read him. Ariosto is a story-teller only -by the way, but then he is worthy of all imitation. The _Heptameron_ -is a collection of stories the chief value of which consists in a -sensibility and charming grace that never fail. Tallemant tells a -tale of gallantry between two daintily worded sentiments. Voltaire -in this as in all departments shows an incontestable superiority of -wit and _verve_. There is nothing new in La Fontaine; ’tis always the -same wondrous charm, so simple in appearance, so deep in reality. As -to Bussy, a man of the world and a gentleman, but vicious, spiteful -and envious, his _Histoire amoureuse_ is his revenge on mankind, a -deliberate publication of extravagant personalities flavoured with wit. - -Boccaccio, to say nothing of his striking originality, possesses other -merits of the very highest order. The sorrows of unhappy love are told -with genuine pathos, while lovers’ wiles and the punishments they meet -with at once raise a smile and provoke a resolve to profit by such -valuable lessons. True Dioneo’s quaint narratives are not precisely fit -for ladies’ ears; yet so daintily are they recounted, the most _risqué_ -episodes so cleverly sketched in, it is impossible to accuse them of -indelicacy. An entire absence of bitterness, a genial indulgence for -human weakness, a hearty admiration of women and a doctrine of genial -complaisance as the only possible philosophy of life, these are the -qualities that make the _Decameron_ the masterpiece of this kind of -composition. - -Brantôme has not the same preponderating influence in literature that -Boccaccio possesses, but he comes next after him. The “Lives of Gallant -Ladies” are not, any more than the _Novelli_, inventions pure and -simple; they are anecdotes, reminiscences. The great merit of these -Tales of Boccaccio is the same as that of Balzac’s Novels or Molière’s -Comedies,—to fix a character, to define a phase of manners in the life -of the Author’s day; in a word to create by induction and analogy a -living being, hitherto unnoticed by every-day observers, but instantly -recognized as lifelike. This is the true spirit of assimilation and -generalisation,—the work of _genius_. Well! as for Brantôme, he is a -man of talent and wit, not genius. We claim no more; genius is not so -common as might be supposed, if we hearkened to all the acclamations -daily raised round sundry statues,—but plaster after all, however -cunningly contrived to look like bronze. - -Brantôme’s fame is already firmly established. To live for two -centuries and a half without boring his readers; above all to be a -book that scholars, men of sober learning and of literary taste, -still read in these latter days, is a success worthy of some earnest -thought. This chronicle of gallantry, this collection, as the Author -himself describes it, of happy tricks played on each other by men and -women, possesses a quite exquisite flavour of youth and freshness,—the -whole told with a good nature, a _verve_, an unconventionality, -that are inexpressibly charming. You feel the characters living and -breathing through the delicate, pliant style. You see the very glance -of a woman’s eye; you hear her ardent, or cunningly alluring, words. -For such as can read with a heart unstirred, the book is a series of -delicious surprises. - -Strong predispositions, nay! positive prejudices, stand in the way -of the proper appreciation of our Author. Such is the Puritanism of -language and prudery of manners in our day, it would seem _prima -facie_ an impossible task to popularize Brantôme. By common agreement -we speak of the _esprit français_ as distinguished from the _esprit -gaulois_, the latter term being used to denote a something more frank -and outspoken. I heartily wish the division were a true one; for I -can never forget I belong to this mighty Nineteenth Century. But for -my own part, on a careful consideration of the facts, I should make a -triple rather than a twofold classification. There would be the _esprit -gaulois_, the _esprit français_, _not_ the spirit of the age one -atom, I must be allowed to observe, _and_ thirdly a certain spirit of -curling-irons and kid gloves and varnished boots, a sort of bastard, a -cross between French and English, equally shocked at _Tristram Shandy_ -and the _Physiologie du Mariage_ as coarse and immoral productions. -_This_ is our spirit, if spirit we have. - -The two first types have a real and positive value; but the third -is the sole and only one nowadays permitted or current as legal -tender,—the others are much too outspoken. Well! I will hold my tongue, -and mind my own business. An epoch is a mighty ugly customer to come to -blows with. I remember Him of Galilee. - -The genius of Rabelais was all instinct with this same _esprit -gaulois_—a big, bold, virile spirit, breaking out in resounding -guffaws, and crude, outspoken verities, equally unable and unwilling -to soften down or gloss over anything, innocent of every species of -periphrasis and affectation. It is genius in a merry mood rising above -the petty conventionalities of speech,—often reminding us of Molière -under like circumstances. Let fools be shocked, if they please; -sensible men are ashamed only in presence of positive immorality and -deliberate vice. The _esprit gaulois_ is the spirit of primitive man -going straight to its end, regardless of fetter or law. The _esprit -français_ is equally natural; but then it has acquired a certain degree -of civilisation. It has less width of scope; it has learned the little -concessions men are bound to make one another, having associated longer -with them. It has left hodden grey, and taken to the silken doublet and -cap of velvet, and rubs elbows with men of rank. It has lost nothing of -its good sense and good temper; but it feels no longer bound in every -case to blurt its thought right out; already it leaves something to -be guessed at. It is all a question of civilisation and surroundings. -But above and beyond this, it must be allowed to be conditioned by the -essential distinction between genius and talent. The former does what -it likes, ’tis lord and master; the latter is, by its very nature, a -creature of compromise. - -Brantôme possesses all the _verve_ and brightness of a genuine -Frenchman. All the conditions of life are highly favourable for him; he -is rich and noble, while intelligence and wit are stamped on his very -face. He wins his first spurs under François de Guise, whose protégé he -is; when he has had enough of war, he comes to Court. There he receives -the most flattering of receptions, every Catholic Noble extending him -the hand of good fellowship. His family connections are such, that on -the very steps of the throne is a voice ready to call him cousin, and a -charming woman’s lips to smile on him with favour. ’Tis a good start; -henceforth it is for his moral and intellectual qualities to achieve -the career so auspiciously begun. - -As I have said already, Brantôme is the finished type of a Frenchman -of quality. Well taught and witty, brave and enterprising, capable -of appreciating honesty and worth whether in thought or deed, -instinctively hating tyrants and tyrannical violence, and avoiding them -like the plague, blessing the happy day on which his mother gave him -birth, light-hearted and sceptical, he unites in himself everything -that makes life go easy. Be sure no over-bearing passion will ever -disturb the serenity of his existence. He has too much good sense to -let his happiness depend on the chimerical figments of the imagination, -and too much real courtesy ever to reproach a woman with her frailties. -The world and all its ways seem good to him. In very truth, he is not -far from Pangloss’s conclusion,—Pangloss, the perfect type of what a -man must be so as never to suffer,—“Well! well! all is for the best in -this best of possible worlds.” If woman deceive, she offers so many -compensations in other ways that ’tis a hundred times better to have -her as she is than not at all. Men are sinners; again most true, as an -abstract proposition, but if only we know how to regulate our conduct -judiciously, their sinful spite will never touch us. Easy to see how, -with this bent of character and these convictions, Brantôme was certain -to find friendly faces wherever he went. The favourable impression his -person and position had produced, his good sense completed. - -The King took delight in the society of this finished gentleman -with his easy and agreeable manners. In the midst of the numberless -vexations he was surrounded by, one of his greatest distractions was -the gay, lively conversation of this noble lord, from whom he had -nothing to fear in the way of hostile speech or angry words. The Duc -d’Alençon was another intimate, who putting aside for a moment his -schemes of ambition, would hear and tell tales of love and intrigue, -laughing the louder in proportion to the audacity and success of the -trick played by the heroine. And so it was with all; the result being -that Brantôme quickly acquired the repute of being the wittiest man -in France. All men and all parties were on friendly terms with him. -The Huguenots forgot he was a Catholic, and made an ally of him. -Without religious fanaticism or personal ambition, honoured and sought -after by the great, yet quite unspoiled and always simple-hearted and -good-natured, equally free from prejudice and pride, he conciliated the -good will of all. Throughout the whole of Brantôme’s career, we never -hear of his making a single enemy; and be it remembered he lived in the -very hottest of the storm and stress, political and religious, of the -Sixteenth Century. Let us add to complete our characterisation, a quite -incalculable merit,—a discretion such as cannot be found even in the -annals of Chivalry, a period indeed when lovers were only too fond of -making a show of their ladies’ favours. This is the one and only point -where Brantôme is inconsistent with the true French type of character, -mostly as eager to declare the fair inamorata’s name as to appreciate -the proofs of love she may have given. - -Francis I. is but just dead, we must remember. His reign has been -called the Renaissance, and not without good reason. Under him begins -that light, graceful bearing, that elegance of manner, that politeness -of address, which henceforth will make continuous advances to greater -and greater refinement. Rabelais is the last expression of that old, -unsoftened and unmitigated French speech, from which at a later date -Matthieu Regnier will occasionally borrow one of his picturesque -phrases. In the same reign costume first becomes dainty. Men’s minds -grow finical like their dress; and a new mode of expression was -imperatively required to match the new elegance of living. The change -was effected almost without effort; ’twas a mere question of external -sensibility. The body, now habituated to silk and velvet, grows more -sensitive and delicate, and intellect and language follow suit. The -correspondence was inevitable. So much for the mental revolution. As -for the moral side, manners gained in frankness no doubt; but otherwise -things were neither better nor worse than before. It has always seemed -to us a strange proceeding, to take a particular period of History, as -writers so often will, and declare,—‘At this epoch morals were more -relaxed than ever before or since.’ - - * * * * * - -Now under Francis I., and by his example, manners acquired a happy -freedom, an unstudied ease, his Courtiers were sure to turn to good -advantage. A King is always king of the fashion. Judging by the two -celebrated lines[3] he wrote one day on a pane in one of the windows -at the Castle of Chambord, Francis I., a Prince of wit and a true -Frenchman, could discover no better way of punishing women for their -fickleness and frivolity than that of copying their example. Every -pretty woman stirred a longing to possess in the ample and facile heart -of this Royal Don Juan. They were easy and happy loves,—without remorse -and without bitterness, and never deformed with tears. So far did he -push his rights as a Sovereign, that there is said to have been at -least one instance of rivalry between him and his own son. He died, as -he had lived, a lover,—and a victim to love. - -Under Henri II., Diane de Poitiers is the most prominent figure on -the stage; following the gallant leadership of the King’s mistress, -the Court continues the same mode of life and type of manners which -distinguished the preceding reign. - -Of the reign of Francis II., we need only speak _en passant_. During -the short while he and Mary Stuart were exhausting the joys of a brief -married life, there was no time for further change. - -But now we come to a far more noteworthy and important period. While -the Queen Mother and the Guises are silently preparing their _coup -d’état_; while the Huguenots, light-hearted and unsuspecting, are -dancing and making merry in the halls of the Louvre; while Catholics -join them in merry feasts at the taverns then in vogue, and ladies -allow no party spirit to intrude in their love affairs; while the -Pré-aux-Clercs is the meeting-ground where men of honour settle their -quarrels, and the happy man, the man who receives the most caressing -marks of female favour, is he that has killed most, at a time like -this the wits are keen and the spirit as reckless as the courage. -With such a code of morals it was a difficult matter for any serious -sentiment to survive. Women soon began to feel the same scorn of life -that men professed. The strongest were falling day by day, and emotion -and sensibility could not but be blunted. Then think of the crowd of -eager candidates to seize the vacant reins of Government, and the -steeple-chase existence of those days becomes intelligible and even -excusable. - -In all this movement Brantôme was necessarily involved, but he -kept invariably in the back-ground, in a convenient semi-obscurity. -But we must by no means assume that this prudence on the Vicomte -de Bourdeille’s part proceeded from any lack of energy; this would -be doing him a quite undeserved injustice. He had given proofs of -his courage; and Abbé as he was, his sword on hip spoke as proudly -as the most doughty ruffler’s. But a man of peace, he avoided -provoking quarrels; he was a good Catholic, and Religion has always -discountenanced the shedding of blood. - -The best proof of the position he was able to win at Court is this Book -of Fair and Gallant Ladies which has come down to us as its result. -Amid all the gay and boisterous fêtes of the time, and the thousand -lights of the Louvre, men and women both smiled graciously on our -Author. His perfect discretion was perhaps his chief merit in the eyes -of all these love-sick swains and garrulous young noodles. The instant -a lover received an assignation from his fair one, his joy ran over -in noisy fanfaronnades. A happy man is brim full of good-fellowship, -and eager for a confidant. Well! if at that moment the gallant Abbé -chanced to pass, what more natural than for the fortunate gentleman -to seize and buttonhole him? Then he would recount his incomparable -good fortune, adding a hundred piquant details, and drunk with his own -babbling, enumerate one after the other the most minute particulars -of his intrigue, ending by letting out the name of the husband at -whose expense he had been enjoying himself. Love is so simple-minded -and so charmingly selfish! Every lover seriously thinks each casual -acquaintance must of course sympathise actively in his feelings. A -bosom friend he must have!—no matter who, if only he can tell him, -always of course under formal promise of concealment, the secret he -should have kept locked in his own bosom. Nor should we look over -harshly on this weakness; too much happiness, no less than too much -unhappiness, will stifle the bosom that cannot throw off any of its -load upon another. ’Tis the world-old story of the reeds and the secret -that must be told. Self-expansion is a natural craving; without it, men -grow misanthropes and die of an aneurism of the heart. - -This brings us to the book of the _Dames galantes_. When eventually -he retired to his estates, Brantôme took up the pen as a relief to -his ennui. Among all the works he composed, this one must certainly -have pleased him best, because it so exactly corresponds with his own -character and ways of thought. But to write these lives of Gallant -Ladies was an enterprise not without its dangers. A volume of anecdotes -of the sort cannot be written without there being considerable risk -in the process of falling into the coarse and commonplace vulgarities -that surround such a subject. Style, wit, philosophy, gaiety, all in a -degree seldom met with, were indispensable for success; yet Brantôme -has succeeded. This book, of the _Vies des Dames galantes_, offers -a close analogy with another celebrated study in the same _genre_, -viz., Balzac’s _Physiologie du mariage_. Both works deal with the same -subject, the ways and wiles of women, married, widow and maid, under -the varying conditions of, (1) the Sixteenth Century, and (2) the -Present Day. But the mode of treatment is different; an this difference -made Brantôme’s task a harder one than the modern Author’s. His short -stories of a dozen lines, each revealing woman in one of those secret -and confidential situations only open to the eye of husband or lover, -might easily be displeasing, or worse still tiresome. Brantôme has -avoided all these shoals and shallows. Each little tale has its own -interest, always fresh and bright. - -Moreover a lofty morality runs through the narratives. At first sight -the word morality may seem a joke applied to such matters; but it is -easy to disconcert the scoffer merely by asking him to read our Author. -To support my contention, there is no need to quote any particular -story or stories; all alike have their charm, and the work must be -perused in its entirety to appreciate the truth of the high praise I -give it. Every reader, on finally closing the book, cannot but feel -a genuine enthusiasm. The delicate wit of the whole recital passes -imagination. On every page we meet some physical trait or some moral -remark that rivets the attention. The author puts his hand on some -curiosity or perversity, and instantly stops to examine it; while at -the same time the propriety of his tone allures the most sedate reader. -The discussion of each point, in which the _pros_ and _cons_ are always -balanced one against the other in the wittiest and most thorough -manner, is interesting to the highest degree. In one word the book is a -code and compendium of Love. All is classified, studied, analysed; each -argument is supported by an appropriate anecdote,—an example,—a Life. - -The mere arrangement of the contents displays consummate skill. The -Author has divided his _Vies des Dames galantes_ into seven Discourses, -as follows: - -In the First, he treats “Of ladies which do make love, and their -husbands cuckolds;” - -In the Second, he expatiates “On the question which doth give the more -content in love, whether touching, seeing or speaking;” - -In the Third, he speaks “Concerning the Beauty of a fine leg, and the -virtue the same doth possess;” - -In the Fourth, he discourses “Concerning old dames as fond to practise -love as ever the young ones be;” - -In the Fifth, he tells “How Fair and honourable ladies do love brave -and valiant men, and brave men courageous women;” - -In the Sixth, he teaches, “How we should never speak ill of ladies,—and -of the consequences of so doing;” - -In the Seventh, he asks, “Concerning married women, widows and -maids—which of these be better than the other to love.” - -This list of subjects, displaying as it does, all the leading ideas of -the book, leaves me little to add. I have no call to go into a detailed -appreciation of the Work under its manifold aspects as a gallery of -portraits; my task was merely to judge of its general physiognomy and -explain its _raisin d’être_; and this I have attempted to do. - -I will only add by way of conclusion a few words to show the especial -esteem we should feel for Brantôme on this ground, that his works -contain nothing to corrupt good morals. Each narrative is told simply -and straightforwardly, for what it is worth. The author neither -embellishes nor exaggerates. Moreover the species of corollary he -clinches it with is a philosophical and physiological deduction -of the happiest and most apposite kind in the great majority of -instances,—some witty and ingenious remark that never offends either -against good sense or good taste. If now and again the reader is -tempted to shy, he should in justice put this down to the diction of -the time, which had not yet adopted that tone of arrogant virtue it -nowadays affects. Then there was a large number of words in former days -which connoted nothing worse than something ridiculous and absurd. - -Then as to beauty of language, we must go roundabout ways to reach many -a point they marched straight to in old days. Brantôme at any rate is -a purist of style,—one of the most striking and most correct writers I -have ever read. It is a great and genuine discovery readers will make, -if they do not know him already; if they do, they will be renewing -acquaintance with an old friend, at once witty and delightful. In -either case, ’tis a piece of luck not to be despised. - - H. VIGNEAU. - - - - - LIVES OF FAIR AND - GALLANT LADIES - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - FIRST DISCOURSE - - Of Ladies which do make Love, and their Husbands - cuckolds.[4] - - - 1. - -Seeing ’tis the ladies have laid the foundation of all cuckoldry, and -how ’tis they which do make all men cuckolds, I have thought it good to -include this First Discourse in my present Book of Fair Ladies,—albeit -that I shall have occasion to speak therein as much of men as of women. -I know right well I am taking up a great work, and one I should never -get done withal, if that I did insist on full completeness of the -same. For of a truth not all the paper in the Records Office of Paris -would hold in writing the half of the histories of folk in this case, -whether women or men. Yet will I set down what I can; and when I can -no more, I will e’en give my pen—to the devil, or mayhap to some good -fellow-comrade, which shall carry on the tale. - -Furthermore must I crave indulgence if in this Discourse I keep not due -order and alignment, for indeed so great is the multitude of men and -women so situate, and so manifold and divers their condition, that I -know not any Commander and Master of War so skilled as that he could -range the same in proper rank and meet array. - -Following therefore of mine own fantasy, will I speak of them in such -fashion as pleaseth me,—now in this present month of April, the which -bringeth round once more the very season and open time of _cuckoos_; -I mean the cuckoos that perch on trees, for of the other sort are to -be found and seen enough and to spare in all months and seasons of the -year. - -Now of this sort of cuckolds, there be many of divers kinds, but of -all sorts the worst and that which the ladies fear above all others, -doth consist of those wild, fierce, tricky, ill-conditioned, malicious, -cruel and suspicious husbands, who strike, torture and kill, some for -true cause, others for no true reason at all, so mad and furious doth -the very least suspicion in the world make them. With such all dealings -are very carefully to be shunned, both by their wives and by the lovers -of the same. Natheless have I known ladies and their lovers which -did make no account of them; for they were just as ill-minded as the -others, and the ladies were bold and reckless, to such a degree that -if their cavaliers chanced to fail of courage, themselves would supply -them enough and to spare for both. The more so that in proportion as -any emprise is dangerous and difficult, ought it to be undertaken in a -bold and high spirit. On the contrary I have known other ladies of the -sort who had no heart at all or ambition to adventure high endeavours; -but cared for naught but their low pleasures, even as the proverb hath -it: _base of heart as an harlot_. - -Myself knew an honourable lady,[5*] and a great one, who a good -opportunity offering to have enjoyment of her lover, when this latter -did object to her the incommodity that would ensue supposing the -husband, who was not far off, to discover it, made no more ado but left -him on the spot, deeming him no doughty lover, for that he said nay to -her urgent desire. For indeed this is what an amorous dame, whenas the -ardour and frenzy of desire would fain be satisfied, but her lover will -not or cannot content her straightway, by reason of sundry lets and -hindrances, doth hate and indignantly abominate above all else. - -Needs must we commend this lady for her doughtiness, and many another -of her kidney, who fear naught, if only they may content their -passions, albeit therein they run more risks and dangers than any -soldier or sailor doth in the most hazardous perils of field or sea. - -A Spanish dame, escorted one day by a gallant cavalier through the -rooms of the King’s Palace and happening to pass by a particular dark -and secret recess, the gentleman, piquing himself on his respect for -women and his Spanish discretion, saith to her: _Señora, buen lugar, si -no fuera vuessa merced_ (A good place, my lady, if it were another than -your ladyship). To this the lady merely answered the very same words -back again, _Si, buen lugar, si no fuera vuessa merced_ (Yes, Sir, a -good place, if it were another than your lordship). Thus did she imply -his cowardliness, and rebuke the same, for that he had not taken of her -in so good a place what she did wish and desire to lose, as another and -a bolder man would have done in like case. For the which cause she did -thereupon altogether pretermit her former love for him, and left him -incontinently. - -I have heard tell of a very fair and honourable lady, who did make -assignation with her lover, only on condition he should not touch her -(nor come to extremities at all). This the other accomplished, tarrying -all night long in great ecstasy, temptation and continence; and thereat -was the lady so grateful that some while after she did give him full -gratification, alleging for reason that she had been fain to prove his -love in accomplishing the task she had laid upon him. Wherefore she -did love him much thereafter, and afforded him opportunity to do quite -other feats than this one,—verily one of the hardest sort to succeed in. - -Some there be will commend his discretion,—or timidity, if you had -rather call it so,—others not. For myself I refer the question to such -as may debate the point on this side or on that according to their -several humours and predispositions. - -I knew once a lady, and one of no low degree, who having made an -assignation with her lover to come and stay with her one night, he hied -him thither all ready, in shirt only, to do his duty. But, seeing it -was in winter-tide, he was so sorely a-cold on the way, that he could -accomplish naught, and thought of no other thing but to get heat again. -Whereat the lady did loathe the caitiff, and would have no more of him. - -Another lady, discoursing of love with a gentleman, he said to her -among other matters that if he were with her, he would undertake to do -his devoir six times in one night, so greatly would her beauty edge him -on. “You boast most high prowess,” said she; “I make you assignation -therefore” for such and such a night. Nor did she fail to keep tryst at -the time agreed; but lo! to his undoing, he was assailed by so sad a -convulsion, that he could by no means accomplish his devoir so much as -once even. Whereupon the fair lady said to him, “What! are you good for -naught at all? Well, then! begone out of my bed. I did never lend it -you, like a bed at an inn, to take your ease forsooth therein and rest -yourself. Therefore, I say, begone!” Thus did she drive him forth, and -thereafter did make great mock of him, hating the recreant worse than -the plague. - -This last gentleman would have been happy enough, if only he had been -of the complexion of the great Baraud,[6*] Protonotary and Almoner to -King Francis, for whenas he lay with the Court-ladies, he would even -reach the round dozen at the least, and yet next morning he would say -right humbly, “I pray you, Madam, make excuse that I have not done -better, but I took physic yesterday.” I have myself known him of later -years, when he was called Captain Baraud, a Gascon, and had quitted the -lawyer’s robe. He has recounted to me, at my asking, his amours, and -that name by name. - -As he waxed older, this masculine vigour and power somewhat failed him. -Moreover he was now poor, albeit he had had good pickings, the which -his prowess had gotten him; yet had he squandered it all, and was now -set to compounding and distilling essences. “But verily,” he would say, -“if only I could now, so well as once I could in my younger days, I -should be in better case, and should guide my gear better than I have -done.” - -During the famous War of the League, an honourable gentleman, and a -right brave and valiant soldier, having left the place whereof he was -Governor to go to the wars, could not on his return arrive in garrison -before nightfall, and so betook himself to the house of a fair and -very honourable and noble widow, who straight invited him to stay -the night within doors. This he gladly consented to do, for he was -exceeding weary. After making him good cheer at supper, she gives him -her own chamber and bed, seeing that all the other bed-chambers were -dismantled by reason of the War, and their furniture,—and she had good -and fair plenishing,—under lock and key. Herself meanwhile withdraws to -her closet, where she had a day-bed in use. - -The gentleman, after several times refusing this bed and bed-chamber, -was constrained by the good lady’s prayers to take it. Then so soon as -he was laid down therein and asleep most soundly, lo! the lady slips in -softly and lays herself down beside him in the bed without his being -ware of aught all the night long, so aweary was he and heavily asleep. -There lay he till broad daylight, when the lady, drawing away from -him, as the sleeper began to awake, said, “You have not slept without -company; for I would not yield you up the whole of my bed, so have I -enjoyed the one half thereof as well as ever you have the other. You -have lost a chance you will never have again.” - -The gentleman, cursing and railing for spite of his wasted opportunity -(’twere enough to make a man hang himself), was fain to stay her and -beg her over. But no such thing! On the contrary, she was sorely -displeased at him for not having contented her as she would have had -him do, for of a truth she had not come thither for only one poor -embrace,—as the saying hath it, one embrace is only the salad of a -feast. She loved the plural number better than the singular, as do -many worthy dames. - -Herein they differ from a certain very fair and honourable lady I once -knew, who on one occasion having made assignation with her lover to -come and stay with her, in a twinkling he did accomplish three good -embraces with her. But thereafter, he wishing to do a fourth and make -his number yet complete, she did urge him with prayers and commands -to get up and retire. He, as fresh as at first, would fain renew the -combat, and doth promise he would fight furiously all that night long -till dawn of day, declaring that for so little as had gone by, his -vigour was in no wise diminished. But she did reply: “Be satisfied I -have recognized your doughtiness and good dispositions. They are right -fair and good, and at a better time and place I shall know very well -how to take better advantage of them than at this present. For naught -but some small illhap is lacking for you and me to be discovered. -Farewell then till a better and more secure occasion, and then right -freely will I put you to the great battle, and not to such a trifling -encounter as this.” - -Many dames there be would not have shown this much prudency, but -intoxicate with pleasure, seeing they had the enemy already on the -field, would have had him fight till dawn of day. - -The same honourable lady which I spake of before these last, was of -such a gallant humour that when the caprice was on her, she had never -a thought or fear of her husband, albeit he was a ready swordsman and -quick at offence. Natheless hath she alway been so fortunate as that -neither she nor her lovers have ever run serious risks of their lives -or come near being surprised, by dint of careful posting of guards and -good and watchful sentinels. - -Still it behoves not ladies to trust too much to this, for one unlucky -moment is all that is needed to ruin all,—as happened some while since -to a certain brave and valiant gentleman[7] who was massacred on his -way to see his mistress by the treachery and contrivance of the lady -herself, the which her husband made her devise against him. Alas! if -he had not entertained so high a presumption of his own worth and -valour as he rightly did, he would have kept better guard, and would -never have fallen,—more’s the pity! A capital example, verily, not to -trust over much to amorous dames, who to escape the cruel hand of their -husbands, do play such a game as these order them, as did the lady in -this case, who saved her own life,—at the sacrifice of her lover’s. - -Other husbands there be who kill the lady and the lover both together -as I have heard it told of a very great lady whose husband was jealous -of her, not for any offence he had certain knowledge of, but out of -mere suspiciousness and mistaken zeal of love. He did his wife to death -with poison and wasting sickness,—a grievous thing and an exceeding -sad, after having first slain the lover, a good and honourable man, -declaring that the sacrifice was fairer and more agreeable to kill the -bull first, and the cow afterwards. - -This same Prince was more cruel to his wife than he was later to one of -his daughters, the which he had married to a great Prince, though not -so great an one as himself was, he being indeed a monarch in all but -name. - -It fell out to this fickle dame to be gotten with child by another than -her husband, who was at the time busied afar in some War. Presently, -having been brought to bed of a fine child, she wist not to what Saint -to make appeal, if not to her father; so to him she did reveal all -by the mouth of a gentleman she had trust in, whom she sent to him. -No sooner had he hearkened to his confidence than he did send and -charge her husband that, for his life, he should beware to make no -essay against that of his daughter, else would he do the same against -his, and make him the poorest Prince in Christendom, the which he was -well able to accomplish. Moreover he did despatch for his daughter a -galley with a meet escort to fetch to him the child and its nurse, -and providing a good house and livelihood, had the boy nourished and -brought up right well. But when after some space of time the father -came to die, thereupon the husband put her to death and so did punish -her for her faithlessness at last. - -I have heard tell of another husband who did to death the lover before -the eyes of his wife, causing him to languish in long pain, to the end -she might die in a martyr’s agony to see the lingering death of him she -had so loved and had held within her arms. - -Yet another great nobleman did kill his wife openly before the whole -Court.[8] For the space of fifteen years he had granted the same all -liberty, and had been for long while well aware of her ill ways, having -many a time and oft remonstrated thereat and admonished her. However -at the last a sudden caprice took him (’tis said at the instance of a -great Prince, his master), and on a certain morning he did visit her as -she still lay abed, but on the point of rising. Then, after lying with -her, and after sporting and making much mirth together, he did give her -four or five dagger thrusts. This done, he bade a servant finish her, -and after had her laid on a litter, and carried openly before all the -Court to his own house, to be there buried. He would fain have done the -like to her paramours; but so would he have had overmuch on his hands, -for that she had had so many they might have made a small army. - -I have heard speak likewise of a certain brave and valiant Captain,[9] -who conceiving some suspicion of his wife, went straight to her -without more ado and strangled her himself with his own hands, in her -white girdle. Thereafter he had her buried with all due honour, and -himself was present at her obsequies in mourning weeds and of a very -sad countenance, the which mourning he did continue for many a long -day,—verily a noble satisfaction to the poor lady, as if a fine funeral -could bring her to life again! Moreover he did the same by a damosel -which had been in waiting on his wife and had aided and abetted her -in her naughtiness. Nor yet did he die without issue by this same -wife, for he had of her a gallant son, one of the bravest and foremost -soldiers of his country, who by virtue of his worth and emprise did -reach great honour as having served his Kings and masters right well. - -I have heard likewise of a nobleman in Italy which also slew his wife, -not being able to catch her gallant who had escaped into France. But it -is said he slew her, not so much because of her sin,—for that he had -been ware of for a long time, how she indulged in loose love and took -no heed for aught else,—as in order to wed another lady of whom he was -enamoured. - -Now this is why it is very perilous to assail and attack an armed and -defended spot,—not but that there be as many of this sort assailed -and right well assailed as of unarmed and undefended ones, yea! and -assailed victoriously to boot. For an example whereof, I know of one -that was as well armed and championed as any in all the world. Yet, was -there a certain gentleman, in sooth a most brave and valiant soldier, -who was fain to hanker after the same; nay! he was not content with -this, but must needs pride himself thereon and bruit his success -abroad. But it was scarce any time at all before he was incontinently -killed by men appointed to that end, without otherwise causing scandal, -and without the lady’s suffering aught therefrom. Yet was she for long -while in sore fear and anguish of spirit, seeing that she was then with -child and firmly believing that after her bringing to bed, the which -she would full fain have seen put off for an hundred years, she would -meet the like fate. But the husband showed himself a good and merciful -man,—though of a truth he was one of the keenest swordsmen in all the -world,—and freely pardoned her; and nothing else came of it, albeit -divers of them that had been her servants were in no small affright. -However the one victim paid for all. And so the lady, recognizing the -goodness and graciousness of such an husband, gave but very little -cause for suspicion thereafter, for that she joined herself to the -ranks of the more wise and virtuous dames of that day. - -It fell out very different not many years since in the Kingdom of -Naples to Donna Maria d’Avalos, one of the fair Princesses of that land -and married to the Prince of Venusia, who was enamoured of the Count -d’Andriane, likewise one of the noble Princes of the country. So being -both of them come together to enjoy their passion, and the husband -having discovered it,—by means whereof I could render an account, -but the tale would be over long,—having insooth surprised them there -together, had the twain of them slain by men appointed thereto. In such -wise that next morning the fair and noble pair, unhappy beings, were -seen lying stretched out and exposed to public view on the pavement in -front of the house door, all dead and cold, in sight of all passers-by, -who could not but weep and lament over their piteous lot. - -Now there were kinsfolk of the said lady, thus done to death, who -were exceeding grieved and greatly angered thereat, so that they were -right eager to avenge the same by death and murder, as the law of that -country doth allow. But for as much as she had been slain by base-born -varlets and slaves who deserved not to have their hands stained with so -good and noble blood, they were for making this point alone the ground -of their resentment and for this seeking satisfaction from the husband, -whether by way of justice or otherwise,—but not so, if he had struck -the blow with his own hand. For that had been a different case, not so -imperatively calling for satisfaction. - -Truly an odd idea and a most foolish quibble have we here! Whereon I -make appeal to our great orators and wise lawyers, that they tell me -this: which act is the more monstrous, for a man to kill his wife with -his own hand, the which hath so oftentimes loved and caressed her, or -by that of a base-born slave? In truth there are many good arguments to -be alleged on the point; but I will refrain me from adducing of them, -for fear they prove over weak and silly in comparison of those of such -great folk. - -I have heard tell that the Viceroy, hearing of the plot that was -toward, did warn the lover thereof, and the lady to boot. But their -destiny would have it so; this was to be the issue, and no other, of -their so delightsome loves. - -This lady was daughter of Don Carlo d’Avalos,[10*] second brother of -the Marquis di Pescaïra, to whom if any had played a like trick in any -of his love matters wherewith I am acquaint, be sure he would have been -dead this many a long day. - -I once knew an husband, which coming home from abroad and having gone -long without sleeping with his wife, did arrive with mind made up -and glad heart to do so with her presently, and having good pleasure -thereof. But arriving by night, he did hear by his little spy, how -that she was accompanied by her lover in the bed. Thereupon did he -straight lay hand on sword, and knocked at the door; the which being -opened, he entered in resolved to kill her. After first of all hunting -for the gallant, who had escaped by the window, he came near to his -wife to kill her; but it so happened she was on this occasion so -becomingly tricked out, so featly dressed in her night attire and her -fair white shift, and so gaily decked (bear in mind she had taken all -this pretty pains with herself the better to please her lover), that -he had never found her so much to his taste. Then she, falling at his -knees, in her shift as she was, and grovelling on the ground, did ask -his forgiveness with such fair and gentle words, the which insooth she -knew right well how to set forth, that raising her up and seeing her so -fair and of so gracious mien, he felt his heart stir within him, and -dropping his sword,—for that he had had no enjoyment for many a day -and was anhungered therefor, which likely enough did stir the lady -too at nature’s prompting,—he forgave her and took and kissed her, -and put her back to bed again, and in a twinkling lay down with her, -after shutting to the door again. And the fair lady did content him so -well by her gentle ways and pretty cajoleries,—be sure she forgat not -any one of them all,—that eventually the next morning they were found -better friends than ever, and never was so much loving and caressing -between them before. As was the case likewise with King Menelaus, that -poor cuckold, the which did ever by the space of ten or twelve years -threaten his wife Helen that he would kill her, if ever he could put -hands upon her, and even did tell her so, calling from the foot of -Troy’s wall to her on the top thereof. Yet, Troy well taken, and she -fallen into his power, so ravished was he with her beauty that he -forgave her all, and did love and fondle her in better sort than ever. - -So much then for these savage husbands that from lions turn into -butterflies. But no easy thing is it for any to get deliverance like -her whose case we now tell. - -A lady, young, fair and noble, in the reign of King Francis I., married -to a great Lord of France, of as noble a house as is any to be found, -did escape otherwise, and in more pious fashion, than the last named. -For, whether it were she had given some cause for suspicion to her -husband, or that he was overtaken by a fit of distrust or sudden anger, -he came at her sword in hand for to kill her. But she bethought herself -instantly to make a vow to the glorious Virgin Mary, and to promise -she would to pay her said vow, if only she would save her life, at her -chapel of Loretto at St. Jean des Mauverets, in the country of Anjou. -And so soon as ever she had made this vow in her own mind, lo! the -said Lord did fall to the ground, and his sword slipped from out his -hand. Then presently, rising up again as if awaking from a dream, he -did ask his wife to what Saint she had recommended herself to escape -out of this peril. She told him it was to the Blessed Virgin, in her -afore-named Chapel, and how she had promised to visit the holy place. -Whereupon he said to her: “Go thither then, and fulfil your vow,”—the -which she did, and hung up there a picture recording the story, -together with sundry large and fair votive offerings of wax, such as -of yore were customary for this purpose, the which were there to be -seen for long time after. Verily a fortunate vow, and a right happy -and unexpected escape,—as is further set forth in the _Chronicles of -Anjou_.[11] - - - 2. - -I have heard say how King Francis[12] once was fain to go to bed with -a lady of his Court whom he loved. He found her husband sword in fist -ready to kill him; but the King straightway did put his own to his -throat, and did charge him, on his life, to do him no hurt, but if he -should do him the least ill in the world, how that he would kill him -on the spot, or else have his head cut off. So for that night did he -send him forth the house, and took his place. The said lady was very -fortunate to have found so good a champion and protector of her person, -for never after durst the husband to say one word of complaint, and so -left her to do as she well pleased. - -I have heard tell how that not this lady alone, but many another -beside, did win suchlike safeguard and protection from the King. -As many folk do in War-time to save their lands, putting of the -King’s cognizance over their doors, even so do these ladies put the -countersign of their monarchs inside and out their bodies; whereby -their husbands dare not afterward say one word of reproach, who but for -this would have given them incontinently to the edge of the sword. - -I have known yet other ladies, favoured in this wise by kings and -great princes, who did so carry their passports everywhere. Natheless -were there some of them, whose husbands, albeit not daring to use cold -steel to them, did yet have resort to divers poisons and secret ways -of death, making pretence these were catarrhs, or apoplexy and sudden -death. Verily such husbands are odious,—so to see their fair wives -lying by their side, sickening and dying a slow death day after day, -and do deserve death far worse than their dames. Others again do them -to death between four walls, in perpetual imprisonment. Of such we have -instances in sundry ancient Chronicles of France; and myself have known -a great nobleman of France, the which did thus slay his wife, who was -a very fair and honourable lady,—and this by judgement of the Courts, -taking an infatuate delight in having by this means his cuckoldry -publicly declared. - -Among husbands of this mad and savage temper under cuckoldry, old men -hold the first place, who distrusting their own vigour and heat of -body, and bent on making sure of their wives’ virtue, even when they -have been so foolish as to marry young and beautiful ones, so jealous -and suspicious are they of the same (as well by reason of their natural -disposition as of their former doings in this sort, the which they -have either done themselves of yore or seen done by others), that -they lead the unhappy creatures so miserable a life that scarce could -Purgatory itself be in any wise more cruel. - -The Spanish proverb saith: _El diablo sabe mucho, porque es viejo_, -“The devil knoweth much, because he is old”; and in like sort these old -men, by reason of their age and erstwhile habitudes, know full many -things. Thus are they greatly to be blamed on this point, for seeing -they cannot satisfy their wives, why do they go about to marry them at -all? Likewise are the women, being so fair and young, very wrong to -marry old men under temptation of wealth, thinking they will enjoy the -same after their death, the which they do await from hour to hour. And -meanwhile do they make good cheer with young gallants whom they make -friends of, for the which some of them do suffer sorely. - -I have heard speak of one who, being surprised in the act, her husband, -an old man, did give her a certain poison whereby she lay sick for more -than a year, and grew dry as a stick. And the husband would go oft to -see her, and took delight in that her sickness, and made mirth thereat, -declaring she had gotten her deserts. - -Yet another her husband shut her up in a room, and put her on bread -and water, and very oft would he make her strip stark naked and whip -her his fill, taking no pity on that fair naked flesh, and feeling no -compunction thereat. And truly this is the worst of them, for seeing -they be void of natural heat, and as little subject to temptation as a -marble statue, no beauty doth stir their compassion, but they satiate -their rage with cruel martyrdoms; whereas if that they were younger, -they would take their satisfaction on their victim’s fair naked body, -and so forget and forgive, as I have told of in a previous place. - -This is why it is ill to marry suchlike ill-conditioned old men; for of -a truth, albeit their sight is failing and coming to naught from old -age, yet have they always enough to spy out and see the tricks their -young wives may play them. - -Even so have I heard speak of a great lady who was used to say that -never a Saturday was without sun, never a beautiful woman without -amours, and never an old man without his being jealous; and indeed -everything goeth for the enfeeblement of his vigour. - -This is why a great Prince whom I know was wont to say: that he would -fain be like the lion, the which, grow he as old as he may, doth never -get white; or the monkey, which, the more he performeth, the more he -hath desire to perform; or the dog, for the older he waxeth, the bigger -doth he become; or else the stag, forasmuch as the more aged he is, -the better can he accomplish his duty, and the does will resort more -willingly to him than to the younger members of the herd. - -And indeed, to speak frankly, as I have heard a great personage of rank -say likewise, what reason is there, or what power hath the husband -so great that he may and ought to kill his wife, seeing he hath none -such from God, neither by His law nor yet His holy Gospel, but only to -put her away? He saith naught therein of murder, and bloodshedding, -naught of death, tortures or imprisonment, of poisons or cruelties. -Ah! but our Lord Jesus Christ did well admonish us that great wrong -was in these fashions of doing and these murders, and that He did -hardly or not at all approve thereof, whenas they brought to Him the -poor woman accused of adultery, for that He might pronounce her doom -and punishment. He said only to them, writing with His finger on the -ground: “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone -at her,”—the which not one of them all durst do, feeling themselves -touched to the quick by so wise and gentle a rebuke. - -Our Creator was for teaching us all not to be so lightly ready to -condemn folk and put them to death, even on this count, well knowing -the weakness of our human Nature, and the violent errors some do commit -against it. For such an one doth cause his wife to be put to death, -who is more an adulterer than she, while others again often have their -wives slain though innocent, being aweary of them and desiring to take -other fresh ones. How many such there be! Yet doth Saint Augustine say -that the adulterous man is as much to be punished as the woman. - -I have heard speak of a very great Prince, and of high place in the -world, who suspecting his wife of false love with a certain gallant -cavalier, had him assassinated as he came forth by night from his -Palace, and afterward the lady.[13*] A little while before, this latter -at a Tourney that was held at Court, after fixedly gazing at her lover -who did manage his horse right gracefully, said suddenly: “Great Lord! -how well he doth ride!” “Yea!” was the unexpected answer, “but he rides -too high an horse”; and in short time after was he poisoned by means of -certain perfumes or by some draught he swallowed by way of the mouth. - -I knew a Lord of a good house who did kill his wife, the which was -very fair and of good family and lineage, poisoning her by her -private parts, without her being ware of it, so subtle and cunningly -compounded was the said poison. This did he in order to marry a great -lady who before had been wife to a Prince, without the influence and -protection of whose friends he was in sad case, exposed to imprisonment -and danger. However as his ill-luck would have it, he did not marry -her after all, but was disappointed therein and brought into very evil -repute, and ill looked at by all men and honourable ladies. - -I have seen high personages greatly blame our old-time Kings, such -as Louis X. (le Hutin, the Obstinate)[14*] and Charles the Fair, for -that they did to death their wives,—the one Marguérite, daughter -of Robert Duke of Burgundy, the other Blanche, daughter of Othelin -Count of Burgundy, casting up against them their adulteries. So -did they have them cruelly done to death within the four walls of -the Château-Gaillard, as did likewise the Comte de Foix to Jeanne -d’Arthoys. Wherein was not so much guilt or such heinous crimes as they -would have had men to believe; but the truth is the said monarchs were -aweary of their wives, and so did bring up against them these fine -charges, and after did marry others. - -As in yet another case, did King Henry of England have his wife put to -death and beheaded, to wit Anne Boleyn, in order to marry another, for -that he was a monarch very ready to shed blood and quick to change his -wives. Were it not better that they should divorce them, according to -God’s word, than thus cruelly cause them to be slain? But no! they must -needs ever have fresh meat these folk, who are fain to sit at table -apart without inviting any to share with them, or else to have new and -fresh wives to bring them gear after that they have wasted that of -their first spouses, or else have not gotten of these enough to satisfy -them. Thus did Baldwyn,[15] second King of Jerusalem, who making it to -be believed of his first wife that she had played him false, did put -her away, in order to take a daughter of the Duke of Malyterne,[15] -because she had a large sum of money for dowry, whereof he stood in -sore need. This is to be read in the _History of the Holy Land_.[15] -Truly it well becomes these Princes to alter the Law of God and invent -a new one, to the end they may make away with their unhappy wives! - -King Louis VII. (Le Jeune, the Young)[15] did not precisely so in -regard to Leonore, duchesse d’Acquitaine, who being suspected of -adultery, mayhap falsely, during his voyaging in Syria, was repudiated -by him on his sole authority, without appealing to the law of other -men, framed as it is and practised more by might than by right or -reason. Whereby he did win greater reputation than the other Kings -named above, and the name of good, while the others were called wicked, -cruel and tyrannical, forasmuch as he had in his soul some traces of -remorse and truth. And this forsooth is to live a Christian life! Why! -the heathen Romans themselves did for the most part herein behave more -Christianly; and above all sundry of their Emperors, of whom the more -part were subject to be cuckolds, and their wives exceeding lustful and -whorish. Yet cruel as they were, we read of many who did rid themselves -of their wives more by divorces than by murders such as we that are -Christians do commit. - -Julius Caesar did no further hurt to his wife Pompeia, but only -divorced her, who had done adultery with Publius Clodius, a young -and handsome Roman nobleman. For being madly in love with her, and -she with him, he did spy out the opportunity when one day she was -performing a sacrifice in her house, to which only women were admitted. -So he did dress himself as a girl, for as yet had he no beard on chin, -and joining in the singing and playing of instruments and so passing -muster, had leisure to do that he would with his mistress. However, -being presently recognized, he was driven forth and brought to trial, -but by dint of bribery and influence was acquitted, and no more came of -the thing. - -Cicero expended his Latin in vain in a fine speech he did deliver -against him.[16*] True it is that Caesar, wishful of convincing the -public who would have him deem his wife innocent, did reply that he -desired his bed not alone to be unstained with guilt, but free from -all suspicion. This was well enough by way of so satisfying the world; -but in his soul he knew right well what the thing meant, his wife -being thus found with her lover. Little doubt she had given him the -assignation and opportunity; for herein, when the woman doth wish and -desire it, no need for the lover to trouble his head to devise means -and occasions; for verily will she find more in an hour than all the -rest of us men together would be able to contrive in an hundred years. -As saith a certain lady of rank of mine acquaintance, who doth declare -to her lover: “Only do you find means to make me _wish_ to come, and -never fear! I will find ways enough.” - -Caesar moreover knew right well the measure of these matters, for -himself was a very great debauchee, and was known by the title of the -_cock for all hens_. Many a husband did he make cuckold in his city, as -witness the nickname given him by his soldiers at his Triumph in the -verse they did sing thereat: _Romani, servate uxores; moechum adducimus -calvum_. - - (Romans, look well to your wives, for we bring you _the bald-headed - fornicator_, who will debauch ’em every one.) - -See then how that Caesar by this wise and cunning answer he made -about his wife, did shake himself free of bearing himself the name of -cuckold, the which he made so many others to endure. But in his heart, -he knew for all that how that he was galled to the quick. - - - 3. - -Octavius Caesar[17] likewise did put away his wife Scribonia for the -sake of his own lecherousness, without other cause, though at the same -time without doing her any other hurt, albeit she had good excuse -to make him cuckold, by reason of an infinity of ladies that he had -relations with. Indeed before their husbands’ very faces he would -openly lead them away from table at those banquets he was used to give -them; then presently, after doing his will with them, would send them -back again with hair dishevelled and disordered, and red ears,—a sure -sign of what they had been at! Not that myself did ever elsewhere -hear tell of this last as a distinctive mark whereby to discover such -doings; a red face for a certainty have I heard so spoken of, but red -ears never. So he did gain the repute of being exceeding lecherous, and -even Mark Antony reproached him therewith; but he was used to excuse -himself, saying he did not so much go with these ladies for mere -wantonness, as thereby to discover more easily the secrets of their -husbands, whom he did distrust. - -I have known not a few great men and others, which have done after the -same sort and have sought after ladies with this same object, wherein -they have had good hap. Indeed I could name sundry which have adopted -this good device; for good it is, as yielding a twofold pleasure. -In this wise was Catiline’s conspiracy discovered by the means of a -courtesan. - -The same Octavius was once seriously minded to put to death his -daughter Julia, wife of Agrippa, for that she had been a notorious -harlot, and had wrought great shame to him,—for verily sometimes -daughters do bring more dishonour on their fathers than wives on their -husbands. Still he did nothing more than banish her the country, and -deprive of the use of wine and the wearing of fine clothing, compelling -her to wear poor folk’s dress, by way of signal punishment, as also of -the society of men. And this is in sooth a sore deprivation for women -of this kidney, to rob them of the two last named gratifications! - -Another Emperor, and very cruel tyrant, Caligula,[18] did suspect that -his wife, Livia Hostilia, had by stealth cheated him of sundry of her -favours, and bestowed the same on her first husband, Caius Piso, from -whom he had taken her away by force. This last was still alive, and -was deemed to have received of her some pleasure and gratification of -her fair body, the while the Emperor was away on a journey. Yet did he -not indulge his usual cruelty toward her, but only banished her from -him, two years after he had first taken her from her husband Piso and -married her. - -He did the same to Tullia Paulina, whom he had taken from her husband -Caius Memmius. He exiled her and that was all, but in this case with -the express prohibition to have naught to do at all with the gentle art -of love, neither with any other men nor yet with her husband—truly a -cruel and rigorous order so far as the last was concerned! - -I have heard speak of a Christian Prince, and a great one, who laid -the same prohibition on a lady whom he affected, and on her husband -likewise, by no means to touch her, so jealous was he of her favours. - -Claudius,[19] son of Drusus Germanicus, merely put away his wife -Plautia Urgulanilla, for having shown herself a most notorious harlot, -and what is worse, for that he had heard how she had made an attempt -upon his life. Yet cruel as he was, though surely these two reasons -were enough to lead him to put her to death, he was content with -divorce only. - -Then again, for how long a time did he endure the wild doings and -filthy debaucheries of Valeria Messalina, his second wife, who was -not content with doing it with one and another here and there in -dissolute and abandoned sort, but made it her regular practice to -go to the brothels to get gratification of her passions, like the -biggest strumpet in all the city. So far did she go, as Juvenal doth -describe, that so soon as ever her husband was to bed with her, she -would slip lightly away from beside him, when she saw him fast asleep -and disguising herself the best she could, would hie her to some common -brothel, where she took all she could get, and still would retire -weary rather than replete or satisfied. Nay! she did even worse. For -her better contentment, and to win the repute and self-satisfaction -of being a good harlot and accomplished light-o’-love, she did even -ask for payment, and would tax each round and each several act, like a -travelling cess-collector, to the last doit. - -I have heard speak of a lady of the great world, and of no mean lineage -neither, who for some while did follow the same life, and went thus -to the common brothels in disguise, to make trial of this way of -existence, and get gratification of her passions,—so much so that one -night the town-guard, while making their rounds, did actually arrest -her unwittingly. And indeed there be other ladies too which play these -pranks, as is well enough known. - -Boccaccio[20] in his book of “Great Folks that have been Unhappy,” -doth speak of this Messalina in gentle terms, and representeth her -making excuse for her ill behaviour, forasmuch as she was born by -nature altogether for this course of life, the day of her birth being -signalized by signs in the heavens which do show in all cases an hot -and fiery complexion. Her husband was ware of it, and bore long with -her,—until he learned how that she was secretly married to Caius -Silius, one of the handsome gallants of Rome. So seeing the matter was -as good as a plot upon his life, he had her put to death on this count, -though in no wise for her lechery; for this he was well accustomed to -see and know, and to condone the same. - -Anyone who hath seen the statue of the aforesaid Messalina found in -these last days at the town of Bordeaux will readily allow she did -indeed bear the true look that comported with such a life. ’Tis an -antique medal, found among some ruins; and is very fine and well -worthy to be preserved to look at and carefully examine.[21*] She is a -very fine woman, of a very fine, tall figure, with handsome features, -and hair gracefully dressed in the old Roman fashion, and of very great -stature,—all manifesting she was what History doth declare her to have -been. For, by what I gather from sundry philosophers, physicians and -physiognomists, big women be naturally inclined and well disposed to -this thing. In truth such women are of a manly build, and so being, -have share in the hot passions both of men and women, and conjoining -the natures of both in one bodily frame, are thus more passionate and -do possess more vigour than one alone,—even as, they say, a great and -deep-laden ship doth need deep water to bear her up. Moreover, by what -the learned Doctors that be expert in the mysteries of love declare, a -big woman is more apt and more delightsome thereto than a small one. - -The which doth mind me of a very great Prince, whom I once knew. -Wishing to commend a certain woman whose favours he had enjoyed, he -said in this wise: “’Tis a most excellent harlot, as big as my lady -mother.” Whereon being checked at the over-reckless vivacity of his -speech, he did explain how that he meant not to say she was as great a -harlot as his mother, but that she was of the like stature and as tall -as was his mother. For sometimes a man doth say things he intendeth in -no wise to say, as sometimes on the other hand he will say, without -intending, the very actual truth. - -Thus we see there is better cheer with big, tall women than with little -ones, were it only for the noble grace and majesty, which they do -own. For in this matter are these qualities as much called for and as -attractive as in other exploits and exercises,—neither more nor less -for example than in horsemanship. Wherein the riding of a tall and -noble charger of blood is an hundred fold more agreeable and pleasant -than is that of a little pony, and doth give more enjoyment by far to -the cavalier. Albeit must the same be a good rider, and carry himself -well, and show much more strength and address. In similar wise must a -man carry himself toward fine, tall women; for that such as be of this -stature are wont to have a higher-stepping gait than others, and will -full often make riders slip their stirrup, nay! even lose their saddle -altogether, as I have heard some tell which have essayed to mount them. -In which case do they straight make boast and great mockery, whenas -they have unseated them and thrown them flat. So have I been told of a -certain lady of the good town of Paris, the which, the first time her -lover did stay with her, said to him frankly: “Embrace me with a will, -and clip me tight to you as well as ever you can; and ride boldly, for -I am high-paced,—so beware of a fall. So for your part spare me not; I -am strong enough and expert enough to bear your assaults, be they as -fierce as they may. For indeed, if you spare me, will I not spare you. -A good ball deserveth a good return.” But insooth the lady did win the -match. - -Thus must a man take good heed to his behaviour with suchlike bold, -merry, stalwart, fleshly and well-built dames; and though truly the -superabundant heat that is in them doth give great contentment, yet -will they at times be overpressing by reason of their excessive -passionateness. However, as the proverb saith: _There be good hinds of -all sizes_, so likewise are there little, dwarfish women which have -action, grace and manner in these matters coming very nigh to their -taller sisters,—or mayhap they be fain to copy them,—and as keen for -the fray as they, or even more so, (I would appeal to the masters in -these arts), just as a little horse will curvet every whit as nimbly as -a big one. This bringeth to mind the saying of a worthy husband, who -declared his wife was like divers animals and above all like an ape, -for that when a-bed she would do naught but twist and turn and toss -about. - -Sundry reminiscences have beguiled me into this digression. ’Tis time -now to come back again to our original discussion. - -Another case. That cruel tyrant Nero[22] did content himself with -the mere putting away of his wife Octavia, daughter of Claudius and -Messalina, for her adultery; and his cruelty stopped thereat. - -Domitian[22] did even better, who divorced his wife Longina, because -she was so fondly enamoured of a certain comedian and buffoon named -Paris, and did naught else all day long but play the wanton with him, -neglecting the society of her husband altogether. Yet, after no long -time, did he take her back again and repented him of the separation -from her. Remember this: the said mountebank had taught her meantime -sundry tricks of adroitness and cunning address, the which the Emperor -did hope he would have good profit of! - -Pertinax[22] did show a like clemency toward his wife Favia Sulpitiana. -Not indeed that he did divorce her, nor yet take her again, but though -well knowing her to be devoted to a singer and player of instruments of -music, and to give all her love to the same, yet made he no complaint, -but let her do her will. Meanwhile himself pursued an intrigue with one -Cornificia, who was his own cousin german. Herein he did but follow the -opinion of Heliogabalus, who was used to say there was naught in the -world more excellent than the frequenting of one’s own relations, male -and female. Many there be that I wot of, which have made such exchanges -and had suchlike dealings, going upon the opinions of these two Princes! - -So likewise did the Emperor Severus[23] take no heed of his wife’s -honour or dishonour, though she was a public harlot. Yet did he never -think of correcting her therefor, saying only she was called Julia -by her name, and that all who bare that name had from all time been -fated to be mighty whores and to cuckold their husbands. In like wise -do I know many ladies bearing certain names under this our Christian -dispensation,—I will not say who they be for the respect I owe to our -holy Religion,—the which are constantly used to be strumpets and to -_lift the leg_ more than other women bearing other names. Of such have -been very few which have escaped this evil fate. - -Well! of a truth I should never have done, were I to adduce all the -infinity of examples of great ladies and Roman Emperors of yore, in -whose case their husbands, though sore cajoled and albeit very cruel -men, did yet refrain them from exerting their cruelty and undoubted -rights and privileges against their wives, no matter how dissolute and -ill-conducted these were. I ween few prudes were there in those old -days, as indeed is sufficiently declared in the history of their lives, -and as may be plainly discerned by careful examination of ancient -portraits and medallions representing them; for indeed you may behold -in their fair faces this same lubricity manifestly and obviously -displayed by chisel and graver. Yet did their husbands, cruel Princes -as these were, pardon them, and did put none of them to death, or but a -very few. So would it seem true that these Pagans, not knowing God, yet -were so gentle and clement toward their wives and the human race, while -the most part of our Kings, Princes, great Lords and other Christian -men, be so cruel toward the same for a like offence. - - - 4. - -Natheless must we herein greatly commend our brave and good Philip -Augustus,[24] King of France, who after having put away his wife -Angerberge, sister of Canute, King of Denmark, which was his second -wife, under pretext she was his cousin in the third degree on the -side of his first wife Ysabel, though others say he did suspect -her of unfaithfulness, yet did the said King, under the weight of -ecclesiastical censures, albeit he had married again elsewhere, take -her back again, and so conveyed her home behind him on horseback, -without the privity of the Diet of Soissons, that had been summoned to -decide this very matter, but was too dilatory to come to any conclusion -thereon. - -Nowadays never a one of our great men will do the like; but the least -punishment they do their wives is to shut them up in perpetual prison, -on bread and water, poisoning them or killing them, whether by their -own hand or by legal process. If they have so great a desire to be -rid of them and marry others, as doth often happen, why do they not -divorce them and honourably separate from them, without doing other -hurt, and then ask power of the Pope to marry another wife? For -surely what God hath joined together, man (without God’s authority) -may in no wise separate. Yet have we had sundry examples thereof, and -notably those of our French Kings Charles VIII.[25] and Louis XII.[25] -Whereanent I did once hear a great Theologian discourse, namely with -regard to the late King Philip of Spain, who had married his niece, -the mother of the present King, and this by dispensation. He said -thus: “Either must we outright allow the Pope to be God’s Vicegerent -on earth, and so absolutely, or else not at all. If he is, as we -Catholics are bound to believe, we must entirely confess his power as -absolute and unbounded on earth, and without limit, and that he can tie -and untie as good him seemeth. But if we do not hold him such, well, -I am sorry for them that be in such error, but good Catholics have -naught to do with them.” Wherefore hath our Holy Father authority over -dissolutions of marriage, and can allay many grave inconveniences which -come therefrom to husband and wife, when they do ill agree together. - -Certainly women are greatly blameworthy so to treat their husbands and -violate their good faith, the which God hath so strongly charged them -to observe. But yet on the other hand hath he straitly forbid murder, -and it is highly detestable to Him, on whosesoever part it be. Never -yet hardly have I seen bloody folk and murderers, above all of their -wives, but they have paid dear for it, and very few lovers of blood -have ended well, whereas many women that have been sinners have won the -pity of God and obtained mercy, as did the Magdalen. - -In very deed these poor women are creatures more nearly resembling -the Divinity than we, because of their beauty. For what is beautiful -is more near akin to God who is all beautiful, than the ugly, which -belongeth to the Devil. - -The good Alfonzo, King of Naples,[26*] was used to say how that beauty -was a token of good and gentle manners, as the fair flower is token of -a good and fair fruit. And insooth have I seen in my life many fair -women who were altogether good; who though they did indeed indulge in -love, did commit no evil, nor take heed for aught else but only this -pleasure, and thereto applied all their care without a second thought. - -Others again have I seen most ill-conditioned, harmful, dangerous, -cruel and exceeding spiteful, naught hindering them from caring for -love and evil-doing both together. - -It may then well be asked,—why, being thus subject to the fickle and -suspicious humour of their husbands, the which do deserve punishment -ten times more in God’s eyes, why they are so sorely punished? Indeed -and indeed the complexion and humour of such folk is as grievous as is -the sorry task of writing of them. - -I speak next of yet another such, a Lord of Dalmatia, who having slain -his wife’s paramour, did compel her to bed habitually with his dead -body, stinking carrion as it was. The end whereof was, the unhappy -woman was choked with the evil stench she did endure for several days. - -In the _Cent Nouvelles_ of the Queen of Navarre will be found the most -touching and saddest tale that can be read on this matter, the tale of -that fair lady of Germany the which her husband was used to constrain -to drink ever from the skull of her dead lover, whom he had slain. -This piteous sight did the Seigneur Bernage, at that day ambassador in -the said country for the French King Charles VIII., see and make report -thereof. - -The first time ever I was in Italy, I was told, when passing through -Venice, what did purport to be a true story of a certain Albanian -knight, the which having surprised his wife in adultery, did kill the -lover. And for spite that his wife had not been content with him, for -indeed he was a gallant knight, and well fitted for Love’s battles, so -much so that he could engage ten or twelve times over in one night, he -did contrive a strange punishment, and so did seek out carefully in -all quarters a dozen stout fellows of the right lecherous sort, who -had the repute of being well and vigorously built and very adroit in -action. These he took and hired, and engaged the same for money. Then -he did lock them in his wife’s chamber, who was a very fair woman, -and gave her up to them, beseeching them one and all to do their duty -thoroughly, with double pay if that they did acquit themselves really -well. Thus did they all go at her, one after another, and did handle -her in such wise that they did kill her,—to the great pleasure of her -husband, who did cast it in her teeth, when she was nigh unto death, -that having loved this pleasure so much, she could now have her fill -thereof. Herein he but copied what Semiramis (or rather _Thomyris_) -said, as she put Cyrus’ head into a vessel full of blood. A terrible -death truly![27*] - -The poor lady had not so died, if only she had been of the robust -complexion of a girl that was in Cæsar’s camp in Gaul. Two legions did -pass, ’tis said, over her body in brief space; yet at the end of all -she did dance a fling, feeling no hurt thereof. - -I have heard speak of a Frenchwoman, town-bred, a lady of birth and of -handsome looks, who was violated in our civil wars, in a town taken by -assault, by a multitude of men-at-arms. On escaping away from these, -she did consult a worthy Father as to whether she had sinned greatly, -first telling him her story. He said, no!—inasmuch as she had been had -by force, and deflowered without her consent, but entirely misliking -the thing. Whereon she did make answer: “Now God be praised, for that -once in my life I have had my fill, without sinning or doing offence to -God!” - -A lady of good quality, having been in like wise violated at the time -of the Massacre of Saint Bartholomew, and her husband being dead, -she did ask of a man of knowledge and right feeling, whether she had -offended God, and whether she would not be punished of His sternness, -and if she had not sorely wronged the manes of her husband, who had but -only quite late been slain. He answered her, that if, when she was at -this work, she had taken pleasure therein, then had she surely sinned; -but if she had felt but disgust at the thing, it was as if it had never -been. A good and wise judgement! - -I once knew well a lady who held quite other views, for she was used to -say: Never did she feel so great a pleasure in these doings, as when -she was half forced and all but violated as it were, and then was there -much pleasure therein. The more a woman showeth herself rebellious and -recalcitrant, so much the more doth the man wax ardent and push home -the attack; and so having once forced the breach, he doth use his -victory more fiercely and savagely, and thereby giveth more appetite -to the woman. The latter is for very delight like one half dead and -swooned, or so it seemeth; but really ’tis by reason of the extreme -pleasure she findeth therein. Indeed the same lady did actually say -further, that oftentimes she would make these ados and show resistance -to her husband, and play the prudish, capricious and scornful wife, -and so put him the more on his mettle. Whereby when he did come to it, -both he and she did find an hundredfold more pleasure; for many writers -have noted, a woman pleaseth better who makes some little difficulties -and resistances than when she lets herself straightway be taken. So in -War is a victory won by force more signalised and hailed with greater -delight and enthusiasm than when had for nothing, and the triumph -thereof is sweeter. Yet must not the lady in all this _overdo_ the part -of the peevish and evil-tempered jade, else may she likely be mistaken -rather for a silly whore wishful to be playing of the prude. But at -such interference would she be sore offended, to go by what I am told -by such dames as are most versed and apt in these matters, to the whom -I do appeal. For far be it from me to give them instruction in things -they do understand much better than I! - -Again, I have known many greatly blame some of these callous and -murderous husbands on one count in especial, namely that, if their -wives be whores, themselves are the cause of it. For, as Saint -Augustine saith, it is great foolishness in an husband to demand -chastity of his wife, himself being all the while plunged in the slough -of lecherous living; for such mode of life as he doth claim from his -wife, the same he should follow himself. Moreover we do read in Holy -Scripture how that it is not expedient that the husband and wife love -each other so excessively, meaning by this with a wanton and lecherous -love. For in that case do they set all their heart and mind on lustful -pleasures, and think so much of these and give themselves up so -entirely to the same, as that they do neglect the love which they owe -to God. Thus have I myself seen many women who so loved their husbands, -and their husbands them, and burned for them with such ardour, as that -both of them did forget God’s service utterly, inasmuch as the time -they should have given thereto, they did devote to their lecheries and -employ the whole of it therein. - -Furthermore, and this is a yet worse thing, these same husbands do -teach their wives a thousand lecheries. The end is that for one fire -brand of lust they have in their body to begin with, they do engender -an hundred, and so make them exceeding lascivious, so that being so -trained and instructed, they cannot later refrain themselves from -leaving their husbands to go after other swains. Whereat are their -husbands in despair, and do punish their poor wives sorely. Herein -they do commit great injustice, for it is only natural the wives, -whenas they feel their heart stirred with satisfaction at being so -well trained, should then wish to show others all they know; but the -husbands would fain have them hide their science. In all this is -neither sense nor reason, no more than if a good horseman should have a -well-trained horse, which could go all paces, and yet should suffer no -man to see the same tried or to mount on its back, but should require -folk to believe it on his mere word, and take the beast without other -warranty. - -I have heard tell of an honourable gentleman of the great world, who -having fallen deep in love with a certain fair lady, was warned by a -friend of his how that he was but wasting his time, seeing she did -love her husband far too well. So one day he did contrive to make an -hole which looked right into their room. Then when they were together, -he failed not to spy at them through this hole, whereby he did behold -the greatest lubricities and lecheries, and this as much, nay! even -more, on the part of the wife than of the husband. Accordingly the next -day he hied him to his comrade, and detailing all the fine sight he -had had, did thus say to him: “The woman is mine, I tell you, so soon -as ever the husband hath started on such and such a journey; for she -will never be able for long to restrain herself under the ardour which -nature and art as well have given her, but must needs assuage the same. -And in this wise by dint of my perseverance shall I have her.” - -I know yet another honourable gentleman, the which being exceedingly -enamoured of a fair and honourable lady, aware she had a copy of -Aretino[28*] with pictures in her closet, as her husband well knew and -had seen and did allow, straightway augured therefrom that he would -overcome her. And so without losing hope, did he make love to her so -well, and so long and patiently, that at the last he did win the day. -And hereon did he find that she had indeed learned good lessons and -excellent science, whether from her husband or from others, albeit -neither the one nor the other had been her first masters, but Dame -Nature rather, who was a better mistress therein than all the arts. -Not but what the book and good practice had helped much in the matter, -as she did later confess to him. - -We read in ancient Writers of a great courtesan and procuress of the -days of old Rome, by name Elephantiné,[29] who did make and invent -postures or _modes_ of the same sort as those of Aretino, but even -worse, the which the great ladies and princesses of yore, following the -ways of harlotry, did study as being a very excellent book. - -Also that good dame and famous whore of Cyrené in Africa, who did bear -the title of _Dodecamechanos_ (she of the twelve devices), because she -had discovered twelve several modes whereby to make the pleasure more -wanton and voluptuous. - -Heliogabalus[29] was used to hire and keep in his pay, at the expense -of much money and costly gifts, such men and women as did invent and -bring forward new devices of this kind, the better to arouse his -lecherousness. Yea! and I have heard of other such that are like him -among the great folk of our own day! - -But a few years since did Pope Sixtus V. cause to be hanged at Rome a -Secretary which had been in the service of the Cardinal d’Este and was -named Capella, for many and divers offences,—but amongst other that he -had composed a book of these same fine postures, the which were figured -by a great ecclesiastic whom I will not name for sake of his cloth, and -by a great lady, one of the fair dames of Rome, the whole shown to the -life and painted in proper form and colour.[29] - - - 5. - -I once knew a Prince and a great man who did even better, for he -had of a goldsmith a very fair cup made of silver gilt, by way of a -masterpiece and very especial curiosity, the most high-wrought, well -engraven and cunningly chiseled piece of work could anywhere be seen. -And thereon were cut most featly and subtly with the graver sundry of -the _postures_ from Aretino, of men and women with one another; this on -the lower part of the cup, and above and higher up sundry also of the -divers modes of beasts. - -And ’twas here I first learned (for many is the time I have seen -the said cup and drunk therein, not without laughing) the way of -cohabitation of the lion and lioness, the which is quite opposite to -that of all other animals.[30*] This I had never known before, and as -to its nature I refer me to those who are ware of the facts without my -telling them. The said cup was the glory of the Prince’s sideboard; for -verily, as I have said, it was right fairly and richly wrought, and -very pleasant to look at inside and out. - -When this same Prince did give a feast to the ladies, married and -single, of his Court,—and not seldom was it his habit so to invite -them,—his butlers never failed, such was his strait command, to serve -the company to drink in this cup. Then were such as had never afore -seen it moved in divers ways, either while drinking or afterward. Some -would be sore astonished, and know not what to say thereat; some would -be all ashamed and the scarlet leaping to their face; some again would -be whispering low to one another: “Nay! what is all this carven inside? -I fear me they be naughty pictures. I will never drink from the cup -again. I must indeed be sore athirst before ever I ask for drink -therefrom again?” Yet were they bound to drink from this cup, or burst -with thirst; and to this end, would some shut their eyes in drinking, -but the rest, who were less shamefaced, not. Such as had heard tell of -the hang of it, as well matrons as maids, would be laughing the while -under the rose; while such as had not, would be downright bursting with -desire to do the like. - -When asked what they had to laugh at and what they had seen, some -would reply they had seen naught but some pictures, and for anything -there was there they would make no ado about drinking another time. -Others would say, “As for me, I think no ill thereof; what the eye -sees or a picture shows forth doth never soil the soul.” Some again -would declare, “Bah! good wine is as good in this cup as in another;” -and say it was as good to drink out of as any other, and did quench -the thirst just the same. Then some of the ladies would be questioned, -why they did not shut their eyes in drinking, to which they would make -answer they were fain to see what they were drinking, for fear instead -of wine it might be some drug or poison. Others would be asked which -they did take the more pleasure in, seeing or drinking; whereto they -would reply, “In both, of course.” Some would be crying, “Oh! the -quaint grotesques!” others, “Ah, ha! what be these merry mummeries we -have here?” Some, “Oh! the pretty pictures!” and others, “Here be fine -figures to look at!” Some, “Well, well! Master Goldsmith must needs -have had good leisure to while away his time in making these gewgaws!” -Others, “And you, Sire! to think you should have taken this wondrous -cup of him!” “Now feel ye not a something that doth touch you, ladies, -at the sight?” They would enquire presently, to which the answer would -come, “Nay! never a one of all these droll images hath had power enough -to stir me!” Others again would be asked, whether they had not found -the wine hot, and whether it had not warmed them finely in this wintry -weather; and they would answer, “Nay! we noted no heat; for indeed -our draught was cold, and did much refresh us.” Some they would ask, -which of all these figures they would best love to have; and they -would answer they could in no wise remove them from where they were to -transport them thither. - -In short, an hundred thousand gibes and quips and cranks would pass -thereon between the gentlefolk and ladies at table, as I have myself -seen, so that it did make right merry jesting, and a very pleasant -thing to see and hear. But above all, to my thinking, best and most -heartsome was it to watch those innocent maids, or mayhap them that -figured only to be so, and other ladies newly come to Court, striving -to maintain a cold mien, with an artificial laugh on their face and -lips, or else holding themselves in and playing the hypocrite, as was -the way with many ladies. And mind this, though they had been a-dying -of thirst, yet durst not the butlers have given them to drink in any -other cup or glass. Yea! and likewise were there some ladies that -sware, to put a good face on the matter, they would never, never come -to these feasts again; but for all that did they in no wise fail to -come again often enough, for truly the Prince was a right magnificent -and dainty host. Other ladies would say, on being invited thither: -“Well! I will go, but under protest we shall not be given to drink in -the cup;” yet when once they were there, would they drink therein as -well as ever. At the last would they aye think better of it, and make -no more scruple whatever about drinking. Nay! some did even better, -and turned the said images to good use in fitting time and place; -and yet more than this, some did act dissolutely of set purpose to -make trial of the same, for that every person of spirit would fain -essay everything. So here we have the fatal effects of this cup so -well dight. And hereanent must each fancy for himself all the other -discourse, and thoughts and looks and words, that these ladies did -indulge in and give vent to, one with another, whether in privity or in -open company. - -I ween this cup was of a very different sort from the one whereof M. -Ronsard[31] doth speak in one of his earliest Odes, dedicated to the -late King Henri, which doth thus begin: - - Comme un qui prend une couppe, - Seul honneur de son trésor. - Et de rang verse à la trouppe - Du vin qui rit dedans l’or. - - (As one who takes a cup, sole honour of all his treasure, and duly - pours therein to the company good wine that laughs within the gold.) - -However in this cup I tell of the wine laughed not at any, but rather -the folk at the wine. For verily some dames did drink laughing, -and others trembling with delight; and yet others would be nigh -_compissoyent_,—I mean not of course just ordinary piddling, but -something more. In a word the said cup did bring dire effects with it, -so touching true were these images, figures and representations. - -In likewise do I remember me how once, in a gallery of the Comte de -Chasteau-Villain, known as the Seigneur Adjacet,[32*] a company of -ladies with their lovers having come to visit the said fair mansion, -they did fall to contemplating sundry rare and beautiful pictures in -the Gallery thereof. Among these they beheld a very beautiful picture, -wherein were portrayed a number of fair ladies naked and at the bath, -which did touch, and feel, and handle, and stroke, one the other, and -intertwine and fondle with each other, and so enticingly and prettily -and featly did show all their hidden beauties that the coldest recluse -or hermit had been warmed and stirred thereat. Wherefore did a certain -great lady, as I have heard it told, and indeed I do know her well, -losing all restraint of herself before this picture, say to her lover, -turning toward him maddened as it were at the madness of love she -beheld painted; “Too long have we tarried here. Let us now straightway -take coach and so to my lodging; for that no more can I hold in the -ardour that is in me. Needs must away and quench it; too sore do I -burn.” And so she did haste away to enjoy her faithful lover. - -Suchlike pictures and portrayals do bring more hurt to a weak soul -than men think for. Another of the same sort there, was a Venus naked, -lying on a couch and eyed by her son Cupid; another, Mars a-bed with -Venus, another, a Leda with her swan. Many other there be, both there -and elsewhere, that are somedel more modestly painted and better veiled -than the figures of Aretino; but all do come pretty much to one and -the same, and are of the like nature with our cup whereof I have been -speaking. This last had, as it were, a sort of likeness in unlikeness -to the cup which Renault de Montauban found in the Castle Ariosto doth -tell of, the which did openly discover unhappy husbands that were -cuckolds, whereas this one was more likely to make them so. But while -the one did cause somewhat too great scandal to cuckolds and their -faithless wives, the other had no such effect. Nowadays is no need of -these books or these pictures, for that husbands teach their wives -themselves enough and to spare without them. And now for the results of -suchlike husbands’ schooling! - -I knew an excellent Venetian printer at Paris named Messer Bernardo, -a kinsman of the great Aldus Manutius of Venice[33], which did keep -his shop in the Rue Saint-Jacques. The same did once tell me, and -swear to it, that in less than a year he had sold more than fifty -of the two volumes of Aretino[33] to very many folks, married and -unmarried, as well as to women of whom he did name three very great -ladies of society; but I will not repeat the names. To these he did -deliver the book into their own hands, and right well bound, under oath -given he would breathe never a word of it—though he did round it to -me natheless. And he did tell me further how that another lady having -asked him some time after, if he had not another like the one she had -seen in the hands of one of the three, he had answered her: _Signora, -si, e peggio_ (“Yes, Madam,—and worse”); and she instantly, money on -table, had bought them all at their weight in gold. Verily a frantic -inquisitiveness for to send her husband a voyage to the haven of -Cornette (the Horns), near by Civita-Vecchia. - -All such devices and postures are abominable in God’s sight, as indeed -St. Jerome saith: “Whosoever doth show himself more unrestrainedly -enamoured of his wife than a husband should, is an adulteror and -committeth sin.” And forasmuch as sundry Doctors of the Church have -spoken thereof, I will sum up the matter shortly in Latin words, -seeing themselves have not thought good to say it in plain language: -_Excessus_, say they, _conjugum fit, quando uxor cognoscitur ante retro -stando, sedendo, in latere, et mulier super virum_ (Excess between -married people is committed when the wife is known before by the -husband standing behind, or sitting, or sideways, or the woman on top -of the man). This last posture is referred to in a little couplet I -once read, and which goes as follows: - - In prato viridi monialem ludere vidi - Cum monacho leviter, ille sub, illa super. - -Other learned Doctors hold that any mode whatsoever is good, provided -only that _semen ejaculetur in matricem mulieris, et quomodocunque uxor -cognoscatur, si vir ejaculetur semen in matricem, non est peccatum -mortale_. - -These arguments are to be found in the _Summa Benedicti_. This -Benedict[34] is a Doctor of the Cordeliers, who has writ most -excellently of all the sins, and shown how that he hath both seen much -and read widely. Anyone who will read this passage, will find therein a -number of excesses which husbands do commit toward their wives. Thus he -saith that _quando mulier est ita pinguis ut non possit aliter coire, -non est mortale peccatum, modo vir ejaculetur semen in vas naturale_. -Whereas others again say it were better husbands should abstain from -their wives altogether when they are with child, as do the animals, -than for them to befoul marriage with such abominations. - -I knew once a famous courtesan of Rome, called “The Greek,” whom a -great Lord of France had kept in that city. After some space, she had -a strong desire to visit France, using to this end the Signor Bonvisi, -a Banker of Lyons,[35*] a native of Lucca and a very rich man, who -was her lover. Wherein having succeeded, she did make many enquiries -concerning the said gentleman and his wife, and amongst other matters, -whether mayhap she did not cuckold him, “seeing that,” she would say, -“I have so well trained her husband, and have taught him such excellent -lessons, that he having once shown them to his wife and practised the -same with her, it is not possible but that she have desired to show the -same to others also. For insooth our trade is such an one, when it is -well learned, that a woman doth find an hundred times more pleasure in -showing and practising it with several than with one only.” Furthermore -did she say that the said lady ought of rights to make her a handsome -present and one worthy of her pains and good teaching, forasmuch as -when her husband did first come to her school, he knew naught at all, -but was in these matters the most silly, inexperienced prentice hand -ever she had seen. But now, so well had she trained him and fashioned -him that his wife must needs find him an hundred times better. For in -fact the lady, desiring to see her, went to visit her in disguise; -this the courtesan suspected, and held all the discourse to her I have -detailed,—and worse still and more dissolute, for she was an exceeding -dissolute woman. And this is how husbands do forge the knives to cut -their own throats withal; or rather is it a question not of throats -at all, but of horns! Acting after this sort do they pollute holy -matrimony, for the which God doth presently punish them; then must they -have their revenge on their wives, wherein are they an hundred times -more deserving of punishment than before. So am I not a whit surprised -that the same venerable Doctor did declare marriage to be in very truth -but a kind of adultery, as it were; thereby intending, when men did -abuse it after the fashion I have been discoursing of. - -Thus hath marriage been forbidden our priests; for that it is no -wise meet that, just come from their wives’ bed and after polluting -themselves exceedingly with them, they should then approach an holy -altar. For, by my faith, so far as I have heard tell, some folk do -wanton more with their wives than do the very reprobates with the -harlots in brothels; for these last, fearing to catch some ill, do not -go to extremes or warm to the work with them as do husbands with their -wives. For these be clean and can give no hurt,—that is to say the most -part of them, though truly not quite all; for myself have known some to -give it to their husbands, as also their husbands to them. - -Husbands, so abusing their wives, are much deserving of punishment, as -I have heard great and learned Doctors say; for that they do not behave -themselves modestly with their wives in their bed, as of right they -should, but wanton with them as with concubines, whereas marriage was -instituted for necessity of procreation, and in no wise for dissolute -and lecherous pleasure. And this did the Emperor Sejanus Commodus, -otherwise called Anchus Verus[36], well declare unto us, when he said -to his wife Calvilla, who did make complaint to him, for that he was -used to bestow on harlots and courtesans and other the like what did of -rights belong to her in her bed, and rob her of her little enjoyments -and gratifications. “Bear with me, wife,” he said to her, “that with -other women I satiate my foul passions, seeing that the name of wife -and consort is one deserving of dignity and honour, and not one for -mere pleasure and lecherousness.” I have never yet read or learned what -reply his good wife the Empress made him thereto; but little doubt can -be she was ill content with his golden saying, and did answer him from -out her heart, and in the words of the most part, nay! of all, married -women: “A fig for your dignity and honour; pleasure for me! We thrive -better on this last than on all the other.” - -Nor yet must we suppose for an instant that the more part of married -men of to-day or of any other day, which have fair wives, do speak -after this wise. For indeed they do not marry and enter into wedlock, -nor take their wives, but only in order to pass their time pleasureably -and indulge their passion in all fashions and teach the same merry -precepts, as well for the wanton movements of their body as for the -dissolute and lascivious words of their mouth, to the end their -love may be the better awaked and stirred up thereby. Then, after -having thus well instructed and debauched their minds, if they do go -astray elsewhere, lo! they are for sorely punishing them, beating and -murdering and putting of them to death. - -Truly scant reasonableness is there in this, just as if a man should -have debauched a poor girl, taking her straight from her mother’s -arms, and have robbed her of her honour and maidenhood, and should -then, after having his will of her, beat her and constrain her to live -quite otherwise, in entire chastity,—verily an excellent and opportune -thing to ask! Who is there would not condemn such an one, as a man -unreasonable and deserving to be made suffer? The same might justly be -said of many husbands, the which, when all is said and done, do more -debauch their wives and teach them more precepts to lead them into -lechery than ever their gallants use, for they do enjoy more time and -leisure therefor than lovers can have. But presently, when they cease -their instructions, the wives most naturally do seek a change of hand -and master, being herein like a good rider, who findeth more pleasure -an hundredfold in mounting an horse than one that is all ignorant of -the art. “And alack!” so used the courtesan we but now spake of to say, -“there is no trade in all the world that is more cunning, nor that doth -more call for constant practice, than that of Venus.” Wherefore these -husbands should be warned not to give suchlike instructions to their -wives, for that they be far and away too dangerous and harmful to the -same. Or, if they needs must, and afterward find their wives playing -them a knavish trick, let them not punish them, forasmuch as it is -themselves have opened the door thereto. - -Here am I constrained to make a digression to tell of a certain married -woman, fair and honourable and of good station, whom I know, the which -did give herself to an honourable gentleman,—and that more for the -jealousy she bare toward an honourable lady whom this same gentleman -did love and keep as his paramour than for love. Wherefore, even as -he was enjoying her favour, the lady said to him: “Now at last, to my -great contentment, do I triumph over you and over the love you bear -to such an one.” The gentleman made answer to her: “A person that -is beat down, brought under and trampled on, can scarce be said to -triumph greatly.” The lady taketh umbrage at this reply, as touching -her honour, and straightway makes answer, “You are very right,” and -instantly puts herself of a sudden to unseat the man, and slip away -from him. Never of yore was Roman knight or warrior so quick and -dexterous to mount and remount his horses at the gallop as was the lady -this bout with her gallant. Then doth she handle him in this mode, -saying the while, “Well then, at present I can declare truly and in -good conscience I triumph over you, forasmuch as I hold you subdued -under me.” Verily a dame of a gay and wanton ambition, and very strange -the way in which she did satisfy the same! - -I have heard speak of a very fair and honourable lady of the great -world, much given over to love, who yet was so arrogant and proud, and -so high of heart, that when it came to it, never would she suffer her -man to put her under him and humble her. For by so doing she deemed -she wrought a great wrong to the nobility of her spirit, and held it -a great piece of cowardice to be thus humbled and subdued, as in a -triumphant conquest and enslavement; but was fain ever to guard the -upper hand and pre-eminence. And one thing that did greatly help her -herein was that she would never have dealings with one greater in rank -than herself, for fear that, using his authority and puissance, he -might succeed in giving the law to her, and so turn, twist about and -trample her, just as he pleased. Rather for this work would she choose -her equals and inferiors, to the which she could dictate their place -and station, their order and procedure in the amorous combat, neither -more nor less than doth a sergeant major to his men-at-arms on the day -of battle. These orders would she in no wise have them overpass, under -pain of losing what they most desire and value, in some cases her love, -in others their own life. In such wise that never, standing or sitting -or lying, could they prevail to return back and put upon her the -smallest humiliation, submission or subservience, which she had done -them. Hereanent I refer me to the words and judgement of such, men and -women, as have dealt with such loves, stations and modes. - -Anyway the lady we speak of could so order it, that no hurt should be -done to the dignity she did affect, and no offence to her proud heart; -for by what I have heard from sundry that have been familiar with her, -she had powers enough to make such ordinances and regulations. - -In good sooth a formidable and diverting woman’s caprice, and a right -curious scruple of a proud spirit. Yet was she in the right after all; -for in truth is it a humiliating and painful thing to be so brought -under and bent to another’s will, and trod down, when one thinks of it -quickly and alone, and saith to oneself, “Such an one hath put me under -him and trod me underfoot,”—for underfoot it is, if not literally, at -any rate in a manner of speaking, and doth amount to the same thing. - -The same lady moreover would never suffer her inferiors to kiss her -on the mouth, “seeing it is so,” she would say, “that the touch and -contact of mouth to mouth is the most delicate and precious of all -contacts, whether of the hand or other members.” For this reason would -she not be so approached, nor feel on her own a foul, unclean mouth, -and one not meet for hers. - -Now hereanent is yet another question I have known some debate: what -advantage and overplus of glory hath the one, whether man or woman, -over his companion, whenas they are at these amorous skirmishes and -conquests? - -The man on his side doth set forth the reasons given above, to wit, -that the victory is much greater when as one holdeth his sweet enemy -laid low beneath him, and doth subjugate, put underfoot and tame her at -his ease and how he best pleaseth. For there is no Princess or great -lady so high, but doth, when she is in that case, even though it were -with an inferior or subordinate, suffer the law and domination which -Venus hath ordained in her statutes; and for this cause glory and -honour do redound therefrom to the man in very high measure. - -The woman on the other hand saith: “Yes! I do confess you may well -feel triumphant when you do hold me under you and put me underfoot. -But if it be only a question of keeping the upper station, I likewise -do sometimes take that in mere sportiveness and of a pretty caprice -that assaileth me, and not of any constraint. Further, when this -upperhand position doth not like me, I do make you work for me like -a very serf or galley-slave, or to put it better, make you pull at -the collar like a veritable waggon-horse, and there you are toiling, -striving, sweating, panting, straining to perform the task and labour -I choose to exact from you. Meanwhile, for me, lo! I am at my ease, -and watch your efforts. Sometimes do I make merry at your expense, and -take my pleasure in seeing you in such sore labour, sometimes too I -compassionate you, just as pleaseth me and according as I am inclined -to merriment or pity. Then after having well fulfilled my pleasure and -caprice herein, I do leave my gallant there, tired, worn out, weakened -and enervate, so he can do no more, and hath need of naught so much -as of a good sleep and a good meal, a strong broth, a restorative, or -some good soup to hearten him up. For me, for all such labours and -efforts, I feel no whit the worse, but only that I have been right -well served at your expense, sir gallant, and do experience no hurt; -but only wish for some other to give me as much again, and to make him -as much exhausted as you. And after this wise, never surrendering, -but making my sweet foe surrender to me, ’tis I bear away the true -victory and true glory, seeing that in a duello he that doth give in is -dishonoured, and not he that doth fight on to the last dire extremity.” - -So have I heard this tale following told of a fair and honourable lady. -One time, her husband having wakened her from a sound sleep and good -rest she was enjoying, for to do the thing, when he was done, she said -to him, “Well! ’tis you did it, not I.” And she did clip him exceeding -tight with arms, hands, feet and legs crossed over each other, saying, -“I will teach you to wake me up another time,” and so with might and -main and right good will, pulling, pushing and shaking her husband, -and who could in no wise get loose, but who lay there sweating and -stewing and aweary, and was fain to cry her mercy, she did make him so -exhausted, and so foredone and feeble, that he grew altogether out of -breath and did swear her a sound oath how another time he would have -her only at his own time, humour and desire. The tale is one better to -imagine and picture to oneself than to describe in words. - -Such then are the woman’s arguments, with sundry other she might very -well have adduced to boot. And note how the humblest strumpet can do -as much to a great King or Prince, if he have gone with her,—and this -is a great scorn, seeing that the blood royal is held to be the most -precious can ever be. At any rate is it right carefully guarded and -very expensively and preciously accommodated far more than any other -man’s! - -This then is what the women do or say. Yet truly is it great pity a -blood so precious should be polluted and contaminated so foully and -unworthily. And indeed it was forbid by the law of Moses to waste -the same in any wise on the ground; but it is much worse done to -intermingle it in a most foul and unworthy fashion. Still ’twere too -much to have them do as did a certain great Lord, of whom I have heard -tell, who having in his dreams at night polluted himself among his -sheets, had these buried, so scrupulous-minded was he, saying it was a -babe issuing therefrom that was dead, and how that it was pity and a -very great loss that this blood had not been put into his wife’s womb, -for then it might well be the child would have lived. - -Herein might he very like have been deceived, seeing that of a thousand -cohabitations the husband hath with the wife in the year, ’tis very -possible, as I have above said, she will not become pregnant thereby, -not once in all her life, in fact never in the case of some women -which be eunuch and barren, and can never conceive. Whence hath come -the error of certain misbelievers, which say that marriage was not -ordained so much for the procreation of children as for pleasure. Now -this is ill thought and ill said, for albeit a woman doth not grow -pregnant every time a man have her, ’tis so for some purpose of God to -us mysterious, and that he wills to punish in this wise both man and -wife, seeing how the greatest blessing God can give us in marriage is a -good offspring, and that not in mere concubinage. And many women there -be that take a great delight in having it, but others not. These latter -will in no wise suffer aught to enter into them, as well to avoid -foisting on their husbands children that are not theirs, as to avoid -the semblance of doing them wrong and making them cuckolds. - -For by this name of cuckoos (or cuckolds), properly appertaining to -those birds of Springtide that are so called because they do lay -their eggs in other birds’ nests, are men also known by antinomy,[37] -when others come to lay eggs in their nest, that is in their wives’ -article,—which is the same thing as saying, cast their seed into them -and make them children. - -And this is how many wives think they are doing no wrong to their -husbands in taking their fill of pleasure, provided only they do not -become pregnant. Such their fine scruples of conscience! So a great -lady of whom I have heard speak, was used to say to her gallant: “Take -your pastime as much as ever you will, and give me pleasure; but on -your life, take heed to let naught bedew me, else is it a question of -life and death for you.” - -A like story have I heard told by the Chevalier de Sanzay of Brittany, -a very honourable and gallant gentleman, who, had not death overtaken -him at an early age, would have been a great seaman, having made a very -good beginning of his career. And indeed he did bear the marks and -signs thereof, for he had had an arm carried off by a cannon shot at a -sea-fight he did engage in. As his ill luck would have it, he was taken -prisoner of the Corsairs and carried off to Algiers. His master who -had him as his slave, was the head Priest of the Mosque in that part, -and had a very beauteous wife. This lady did fall so deep in love with -the said Sanzay that she bade him come to have amorous dalliance and -delight with her, saying how she would treat him very well, better than -any of her other slaves. But above all else did she charge him very -straitly, and on his life, or on pain of most rigorous imprisonment, -not to emit in her body a single drop of his seed, forasmuch as, so -she declared, she must in no wise be polluted and contaminated with -Christian blood, whereby she thought she would sorely offend against -the law of her people and their great Prophet Mahomet. And further -she bade him, that albeit she should even order him an hundred times -over to do the whole thing outright, he should do nothing of the sort, -for that it would be but the exceeding pleasure wherewith she was -enraptured that made her say so to him, and in no wise the will of her -heart and soul. - -The aforesaid Sanzay, in order to get good treatment and greater -liberty, Christian as he was, did shut his eyes this once to his law. -For a poor slave, hardly entreated and cruelly chained, may well forget -his principles now and again. So he did obey the lady, and was so -prudent and so submissive to her order, as that he did minister right -well to her pleasure. Wherefore the lady did love him the better, -because he was so submissive to her strait and difficult command. Even -when she would cry to him: “Let go, I say; I give you full permission!” -yet would he never once do so, for he was sore afraid of being beaten -as the Turks use (bastinadoed), as he did often see his comrades beaten -before his eyes. - -Verily a strange and sore caprice; and herein it would seem she did -well prevail, both for her own soul’s sake which was Turk and for the -other who was Christian. But he swore to me how that never in all his -life had he been in so sore a strait! - -He did tell me yet another tale, the most heartsome and amusing -possible, of a trick she once put upon him. But forasmuch as it is not -pleasant, I will repeat it not, for dread of doing offence to modest -ears. - -Later was the same Sanzay ransomed by his friends, the which are folk -of honour and good estate in Brittany, and related to many great -persons, as to the Connétable de Sanzay,[38*] who was greatly attached -to his elder brother, and did help him much toward his deliverance. -Having won this, the Chevalier did come to Court, and held much -discourse to M. d’Estrozze and to me of his adventures and of divers -matters, and amongst other such he told us these stories. - - - 6. - -What are we to say now of some husbands which be not content only to -procure themselves entertainment and wanton pleasure with their wives, -but do give the desire therefor to others also, their companions, -friends and the like? For so have I known several which do praise their -wives to these, detail to them their beauties, picture to them their -members and various bodily parts, recount the pleasure that they have -with them, and the caresses their wives do use towards them, make them -kiss, touch and try them, and even behold them naked. - -What do such deserve? Why! that they be cuckolded right off, as -did Gyges, by the means of his ring, to Candaules,[39] King of the -Lydians. For the latter, fool that he was, having bepraised to Gyges -the rare beauty of his wife, and at the last having shown her to him -stark naked, he fell so madly in love with her that he did what seemed -him good and brought Candaules to his death and made himself master -of his Kingdom. ’Tis said the wife was in such despite and despair -at having been so shown by her husband to another man, that she did -herself constrain Gyges to play this traitorous part, saying thus to -him: “Either must he that hath constrained and counselled you to such -a thing die by your hand, or else you, who have looked on me in my -nakedness, must die by the hand of another.” Of a surety was the said -King very ill advised so to rouse desire for a fresh dainty, so good -and sweet, which it rather behoved him to hold very specially dear and -precious. - -Louis, Duke or Orleans,[39] killed at the Barbette Gate of Paris, did -the exact opposite. An arrant debaucher was he of the ladies of the -Court, and that even of the greatest among them all. For, having once a -very fair and noble lady to bed with him, so soon as her husband came -into his bedchamber to wish him good-morrow, he did promptly cover up -the lady’s head, the other’s wife’s that is, with the sheet, but did -uncover all the rest of her body, letting him see her all naked and -touch her at his pleasure, only with express prohibition on his life -not to take away the linen from off the face, nor to uncover it in any -wise,—a charge he durst not contravene. Then did the Duke ask him -several times over what he thought of this fair, naked body, whereat -the other was all astonished and exceeding content. At the last he did -get his leave to quit the chamber, and this he did without having ever -had the chance to recognize the woman for his own wife. - -If only he had carefully looked over her body and examined the same, -as several that I have known, he would mayhap have recognized her by -sundry blemishes. Thus is it a good thing for men to go over sometimes -and observe their wives’ bodies. - -She, after her husband was well gone, was questioned of M. -d’Orléans,[40*] if she had felt any alarm or fear. I leave you to -imagine what she said thereto, and all the trouble and anguish she was -in by the space of a quarter of an hour, seeing all that lacked for her -undoing was some little indiscretion, or the smallest disobedience her -husband might have committed in lifting the sheet. ’Twas doubtless M. -d’Orléans’ orders, but still he would surely, on his making discovery, -have straightway slain him to stay him of the vengeance he would have -wrought on his wife. - -And the best of it was that, being the next night to bed with his wife, -he did tell her how M. d’Orléans had let him see the fairest naked -woman he had ever beheld, but as to her face, that he could give no -news thereof, seeing the sight of it had been forbid him. I leave you -to imagine what the lady must have thought within her heart. Now of -this same lady and M. d’Orléans ’tis said did spring that brave and -valiant soldier, the Bastard of Orleans, the mainstay of France and -scourge of England, from whom is descended the noble and generous race -of the Comtes de Dunois. - -However to return to our tales of husband too ready to give others -sight of their wives naked, I know one who, on a morning, a comrade -of his having gone to see him in his chamber as he was dressing, did -show him his wife quite naked, lying all her length fast asleep, having -herself thrown her bed-clothes off her, it being very hot weather. So -he did draw aside the curtain half way, in such wise that the rising -sun shining upon her, he had leisure to contemplate well and thoroughly -at his ease, which doing he beheld naught but what was right fair and -perfect. On all this beauty then he did feast his eyes, not indeed as -long as he would, but as long as he could; and after, the husband and -he went forth to the Palace. - -The next day, the gentleman who was an ardent lover of this same -honourable lady, did report to her the sight he had seen, and even -described many things he had noted. He said further it was the husband -which did urge him thereto, and he and no other had drawn the curtain -for him to see. The lady, out of the despite she then conceived against -her husband, did let herself go, and so gave herself to his friend on -this only account,—a thing which all his service and devotion had not -before been able to win. - -I knew once a very great Lord, who, one morning, wishing to go -an-hunting, and his gentlemen having come to find him at his rising, -even as they were booting him, and he had his wife lying by him and -holding him right close to her, he did so suddenly lift the coverlet -she had no time to move away from where she rested, in such wise that -they all saw her as much as they pleased even to the half of her body. -Then with a loud laugh did the Lord cry to these gentlemen there -present: “Well, well! sirs, have not I let you see enough and to spare -of my good wife?” But so vexed and chagrined was she at it all that she -did conceive a great grudge against him therefor, and above all for the -way she had been surprised. And it may well be, she did pay it back to -him with interest later on. - -I know yet another of these great Lords, who learning that a friend -and kinsman of his was in love with his wife, whether to make him the -more envious or to make him taste all the despite and despair he might -conceive at the thought of the other possessing so fair a woman, and he -having never so much as a chance of touching her, did show her him one -morning, when he had come to see him, the pair being a-bed together. -Yea! he did even worse, for he did set about to embrace her before -his eyes, as though she had been altogether in a privy place. Further -he kept begging of his friend to see, saying he was doing it all to -gratify him. I leave you to imagine whether the lady did not find in -such conduct of her husband excuse to do likewise in all ways with -the friend, and of good conscience, and whether he was not right well -punished by being made to bear the horns. - -I have heard speak of yet another, likewise a great Lord, who did the -same with his wife before a great Prince, his master, but, ’twas by -his prayer and commandment, for he was one that took delight in this -form of gratification. Now are not such like persons blameworthy, for -that after being pandars to their own wives, they will after be their -executioners too? - -It is never expedient for a man to expose his wife, any more than his -lands, countries or places. And I may cite an example hereof which I -did learn from a great Captain. It concerns the late M. de Savoye, who -did dissuade the late King of France,[41] when on his return from -Poland he was passing through Lombardy, and counselled him not to go -to Milan or enter therein, alleging that the King of Spain might take -umbrage thereat. But this was not the real cause at all; rather was -he afraid lest the King being once there and visiting all quarters of -the city, and beholding its beauty and riches and grandeur, might be -assailed by an overwhelming desire to have it again and reconquer it -by fair and honest right, as had done his predecessors. Now this was -the true reason, as a great Prince said who knew the fact from our -late King, who for his part quite well understood what the restriction -meant. However, to be complaisant to M. de Savoye, and to cause no -offence on the part of the King of Spain, he took his march so as -to pass by the city, albeit he had all the wish in the world to go -thither, by what he did me the honour to tell me after his return to -Lyons. In this transaction we cannot but deem M. de Savoye to have been -more of a Spaniard than a Frenchman. - -I deem those husbands likewise very much to blame who after having -received their life by favour of their wives, are so little grateful -therefor, as that for any suspicion they have of their intriguing with -other men, do treat them exceeding harshly, to the extent of making -attempt upon their lives. I have heard speak of a Lord against whose -life sundry conspirators having conspired and plotted, his wife by dint -of her prayers did turn them from their purpose, and saved her husband -from being assassinated. But nevertheless later on was she very ill -rewarded by him and entreated most cruelly. - -I have seen likewise a gentleman who, having been accused and brought -to trial for very bad performance of his duty in succouring his -General in a battle,[42*] so much so that he had left him to be killed -without any help or succour at all, was nigh to be sentenced and -condemned to have his head cut off, and this notwithstanding 20,000 -crowns the which he did give to save his life. Thereupon his wife -spake to a great Lord holding high place in the world, and lay with -him by permission and at the supplication of the said husband; and so -what money had not been able to do, this did her beauty and fair body -effect, and she did save him his life and liberty. Yet after he did -treat her so ill as that nothing could be worse. Of a surety husbands -of the sort, so cruel and savage, are very pitiful creatures. - -Others again have I known who did quite otherwise, for that they have -known how to show gratitude to those that helped them, and have all -their life long honoured the good dame that had saved them from death. - -There is yet another sort of cuckolds, those who are not content to -have been suspicious and difficult all their life, but when going to -leave this world and on the point of death, are so still. Of this sort -knew I one who had a very fair and honourable lady to wife, but yet had -not always given her all to him alone. When now he was like to die, he -said to her repeatedly: “Ah! wife mine, I am going to die! And would -to God you could have kept me company, and you and I could have gone -together into the other world! My death had not then been so hateful -to me, and I should have taken it in better part.” But the lady, who -was still very fair and not more than thirty-seven years old, was by -no means fain to follow him, nor agree with him in this. Nor yet was -she willing to play the madwoman for his sake, as we read did Evadné, -daughter of Mars and Thebé and wife of Capaneus,[43] the which did -love her husband so ardently that, he having died, so soon as ever his -body was cast on the fire, she threw herself thereon all alive as she -was, and was burned and consumed along with him, in her great constancy -and strength of purpose, and so did accompany him in his death. - -Alcestis[43] did far better yet, for having learned by an oracle that -her husband Admetus, King of Thessaly, was to die presently, unless his -life were redeemed by the death of some other of his friends, she did -straightway devote herself to a sudden death, and so saved her husband -alive. - -Nowadays are no women of this kindly sort left, who are fain to go -of their own pleasure into the grave before their husbands, and not -survive them. No! such are no more to be found; the dams that bare them -are dead, as say the horse-dealers of Paris of horses, when no more -good ones are to be got. - -And this is why I did account the husband, whose case I but now -adduced, ill-advised to make such proposals to his wife and odious -so to invite her to death, as though it had been some merry feast to -invite her to. It was an arrant piece of jealousy that did make him so -speak, and the despite he did feel within himself, he would presently -experience yonder in the lower world, when he should see his wife, whom -he had so excellently trained, in the arms of some lover of hers or -some new husband. - -What a strange sort of jealousy was this her husband must have been -seized with for the nonce, and strange how he would keep telling her -again and again how if he should recover, he would no more suffer at -her hands what he had suffered aforetime! Yet, so long as he was alive -and well, he had never been attacked by the like feelings, but ever -let her do at her own good pleasure. - -The gallant Tancred[44] did quite otherwise, the same who in old days -did so signalise his valour in the Holy War. Being at the point of -death, and his wife beside him making moan, together with the Count -of Tripoly, he did beg the twain when that he was dead, to wed one -another, and charged his wife to obey him therein,—the which they -afterward did. - -Mayhap he had observed some loving dalliance betwixt them during his -lifetime. For she may well have been as very a harlot as her mother, -the Countess of Anjou, who after the Comte de Bretagne had had her -long while, went unto Philip,[44] the King of France, who did treat -her the same fashion, and had of her a bastard daughter called Cicile, -whom after he did give in marriage to this same valorous Tancred, who -by reason of his noble exploits did of a surety little deserve to be -cuckold. - -An Albanian, having been condemned in Southern lands to be hung for -some offence, being in the service of the King of France, when he was -to be led out to his punishment, did ask to see his wife, who was a -very fair and lovable woman, and bid her farewell. Then while he was -saying his farewell and in the act of kissing her, lo! he did bite -her nose right off and tear it clean out of her pretty face. And the -officers thereupon questioning him why he had done this horrible thing -to his wife, he replied he had done it out of sheer jealousy, “seeing -she is very fair, for the which after my death I wot well she will -straightway be sought after and given up to some other of my comrades, -for I know her to be exceeding lecherous and one to forget me without -more ado. I am fain therefore she bear me in memory after my death, -and weep and be sorry. If she is not so for my death’s sake, at least -will she be sore grieved at being disfigured, and none of my comrades -will have the pleasure of her I have had.” Verily an appalling instance -of a jealous husband! - -I have heard speak of others who, feeling themselves old, failing, -wounded, worn out and near to death, have out of sheer despite and -jealousy privily cut short their mates’ days, even when they have been -fair and beauteous women. - -Now as to such strange humours on the part of these cruel and tyrannic -husbands which do thus put their wives to death, I have heard the -question disputed,—to wit, whether it is permitted women, when they -do perceive or suspect the cruelty and murder their husbands are fain -to practise against them, to gain the first hand and anticipate their -aggressors and so save their own lives, making the others play the part -first and sending these on in front to make ready house and home in the -other world. - -I have heard it maintained the answer should be yes,—that they may -do so, not certainly according to God’s law, for thereby is all -murder forbid, as I have said, but by the world’s way of thinking, -well enough. This opinion men base on the saying,—better ’tis to be -beforehand than behind. For no doubt everyone is bound to take heed for -his own life; and seeing God hath given it us, we must guard it well -till he shall call us away at our death. Otherwise, knowing their death -to be planned, to go headfirst into the same, and not to escape from -it when they can, is to kill their own selves,—a crime which God doth -very greatly abhor. Wherefore ’tis ever the best plan to send them on -ahead as envoys, and parry their assault, as did Blanche d’Auverbruckt -to her husband, the Sieur de Flavy, Captain of Compiègne and Governor -thereof, the same who did betray the maid of Orleans, and was cause -of her death and undoing. Now this lady Blanche, learning that her -husband did plot to have her drowned, got beforehand with him, and by -aid of his barber did smother and strangle him, for which deed our -King Charles VII.[45] gave her instantly his pardon; though for the -obtaining of this ’tis like the husband’s treason went for much,—more -indeed than any other reason. These facts are to be found in the -_Chronicles of France_, and particularly in those of _Guyenne_. - -The same was done by a certain Madame de la Borne, in the reign of -Francis I.[45] This lady did accuse and inform against her husband for -sundry follies committed and crimes, it may be monstrous crimes, he -had done against her and other women. She had him thrown into prison, -pleaded against him and finally got his head cut off. I have heard my -grandmother tell the tale, who used to say she was of good family and a -very handsome woman. Well! she at any rate did get well beforehand! - -Queen Jeanne of Naples,[45] the First of that name, did the like toward -the Infanta of Majorca, her third husband, whose head she did cause to -be cut off for the reason I have named in the Discourse dealing with -him. But it may well be she did also fear him, and was fain to be rid -of him the first. Herein was she much in the right, and all women in -like case, to act thus when they are suspicious of their gallants’ -purpose. - -I have heard speak of many ladies that have bravely escaped in this -fashion. Nay! I have known one, who having been found by her husband -with her lover, he said never a word to one or the other, but departed -in fierce anger, and left her there in the chamber with her lover, sore -amazed and in much despair and doubt. Still the lady had spirit enough -to declare, “He has done naught nor said naught to me this time; but -I am sore afraid he doth bear rancour and secret spite. Now if I were -only sure he was minded to do me to death, I would take thought how to -make _him_ feel death the first.” Fortune was so kind to her after some -while that the husband did die of himself. And hereof was she right -glad, for never after his discovery had he made her good cheer, no -matter what attention and consideration she showed him. - -Yet another question is there in dispute as concerning these same -madmen, these furious husbands and perilous cuckolds, to wit on which -of the two they set and work their vengeance, whether on their wives, -or their wives’ lovers. - -Some there be which have declared, “on the woman only,” basing their -doctrine on the Italian proverb _morta la bastia, morta la rabbia o -vereno_—“when the beast is dead, the madness, or venom, is dead.” For -they think, so it would seem, to be quite cured of their hurt when they -have once killed her who caused the pain, herein doing neither more -nor less than they who have been bit or stung by a scorpion. The most -sovran remedy these have is to take the creature, kill and crush it -flat, and put it on the bite or wound it hath made. The same are ready -to say, and do commonly say, ’tis the women who are the more deserving -of punishment. I here refer to great ladies and of high rank, and not -to humble, common and of low degree. For suchlike it is, by their -lovely charms, their confidences, their orders given and soft words -spoken, who do provoke the first skirmishes and bring on the battle, -whereas the men do but follow their lead. But such as do call for war -and begin it, are more deserving of blame than such as only fight in -self-defence. For oftentimes men adventure themselves in the like -dangerous places and on such high emprize, only when challenged by the -ladies, who do signify in divers fashions their predilection. Just as -we see in a great, good, well-guarded frontier town, it is exceeding -difficult to attack the same unawares or surprise it, unless there be -some secret undertaking among some of the inhabitants, and some that -do encourage the assailants to the attempt and entice them on and give -them a hand of succour. - -Now, forasmuch as women are something more fragile than men, they must -be forgiven, and it should be remembered how that, when once they -have begun to love and set love in their hearts, they will achieve it -at what cost soever, not content,—not all of them that is,—to brood -over it within, and little by little waste away, and grow dried up -and sickly, and spoil their beauty therefor,—which is the reason they -do long to be cured of it and get pleasure therefrom, and not die _in -ferret’s fashion_, as the saying is.[46] - -Of a surety I have known not a few fair ladies of this humour, who have -been foremost to make love to the other sex, even sooner than the men, -and for divers accounts,—some for that they see them handsome, brave, -valiant and lovable; others to cozen them out of a sum of hard cash; -others to get of them pearls and precious stones, and dresses of cloth -of gold and of silver. And I have seen them take as great pains to get -these things as a merchant to sell his commodities, and indeed they say -the woman who takes presents, sells herself. Some again, to win Court -favour; others to win the like with men of the law. Thus several fair -dames I have known, who though having no right on their side, yet did -get it over to them by means of their fleshly charms and bodily beauty. -Yet others again, only to live delicately by the giving of their body. - -Many women have I seen so enamoured of their lovers, that they would, -so to speak, chase them and run amain after them, causing the world to -cast scorn at them therefor. - -I once knew a very fair lady so enamoured of a Lord of the great world, -that whereas commonly lovers do wear the colours of their ladies, this -one on the contrary would be wearing those of her gallant. I could -quite well name the colours, but that would be telling over much. - -I knew yet another, whose husband, having affronted her lover at a -tourney which was held at Court, the while he was in the dancing-hall -and was celebrating his triumph, she did out of despite dress herself -in man’s clothes and went to meet her lover and offer him her favours -in masquerade,—for so enamoured of him was she, as that she was like to -die thereof. - -I knew an honourable gentleman, and one of the least spoken against -at Court, who did one day manifest desire to be lover to a very fair -and honourable lady, if ever there was one; but whereas she made many -advances on her side, he on his stood on guard for many reasons and -accounts. But the said lady, having set her love on him, and having -cast the die this way at whatsoever hazard, as she did herself declare, -did never cease to entice him to her by the fairest words of love that -ever she could speak, saying amongst other things: “Nay! but suffer -at any rate that I love you, if you will not love me; and look not to -my deserts, but rather to the love and passion I do bear you,”—though -in actual truth she did outbalance the gentleman on the score of -perfections. In this case what could the gentleman have done but love -her, as she was very fain to love him, and serve her; then ask the -salary and reward of his service. This he had in due course, as is but -reasonable that whoever doth a favour be paid therefor. - -I could allege an infinite number of such ladies, which do seek toward -lovers rather than are sought. And I will tell you why they have more -blame than their lovers. Once they have assailed their man, they do -never leave off till they gain their end and entice him by their -alluring looks, their charms, the pretty made-up graces they do study -to display in an hundred thousand fashions, by the subtle bepainting -of their face, if it be not beautiful, their fine head-dresses, the -rich and rare fashions of wearing their hair, so aptly suited to their -beauty, their magnificent, stately costumes, and above all by their -dainty and half-wanton words, as well as by their pretty, frolic -gestures and familiarities, and lastly by gifts and presents. So this -is how men are taken: and being once taken, needs must they take -advantage of their captors. Wherefore ’tis maintained their husbands -are fairly bound to wreak their vengeance on them. - -Others hold the husband should take his satisfaction of the men, when -that he can, just as one would of such as lay siege to a town. For -they it is are the first to sound the challenge and call on the place -to surrender, the first to make reconnaissances and approaches, the -first to throw up entrenchments of gabions and raise bastions and dig -trenches, the first to plant batteries and advance to the assault, -and the first to open negotiations; and even so is it, they allege, -with lovers. For like doughty, valiant and determined soldiers they -do assault the fortress of ladies’ chastity, till these, after all -fashions of assault and modes of importunity have been duly observed, -are constrained to make signal of capitulation and receive their -pleasant foes within their fortifications. Wherein methinks they are -not so blameworthy as they wauld fain make out; for indeed to be rid -of an importunate beggar is very difficult without leaving somewhat of -one’s own behind. So have I seen many who by their long service and -much perseverance have at length had their will of their mistresses, -who at the first would not, so to say, have given them their _cul -a baiser_, constraining them, or at any rate some of them, to this -degree that out of pure pity, and tear in eye, they did give them -their way. Just as at Paris a man doth very often give an alms to the -beggars about an inn door more by reason of their importunity than from -devotion or the love of God. The same is the case with many women, who -yield rather for being over-importuned than because they are really -in love—as also with great and powerful wooers, men whom they do fear -and dare not refuse because of their high authority, dreading to do -them a displeasure and thereafter to receive scandal and annoyance of -them or a deliberate affront or great hurt and sore disparagement to -their honour. For verily have I seen great mischiefs happen in suchlike -conjunctions. - -This is why those evil-minded husbands, which take such delight in -blood and murder and evil entreatment of their wives, should not be -so hasty, but ought first to make a secret inquiry into all matters, -albeit such knowledge may well be grievous to them and very like to -make them scratch their head for its sore itching thereat, and this -even though some, wretches that they are, do give their wives all the -occasion in the world to go astray. - -Thus I once knew a great Prince of a foreign country, who had married -a very fair and honourable lady. Yet did he very often leave her to go -with another woman, which was supposed to be a famous courtesan, though -others thought she was a lady of honour whom he had debauched. But not -satisfied with this, when he had her to sleep with him, it was in a -low-roofed chamber underneath that of his wife and underneath her bed. -Then when he was fain to embrace his mistress, he was not content with -the wrong he was doing his lady already, but in derision and mockery -would with a half-pike knock two or three blows on the floor and shout -up to his wife: “A health to you, wife mine!” This scorn and insult was -repeated several days, and did so anger his wife that out of despair -and desire of vengeance she did accost a very honourable gentleman -one day and said to him privily: “Sir! I am fain you should have your -pleasure of me; otherwise do I know of means whereby to undo you.” The -other, right glad of so fine an adventure, did in no wise refuse her. -Wherefore, so soon as her husband had his fair leman in his arms, and -she likewise her fond lover, and he would cry, “A health!” to her, then -would she answer him in the same coin, crying, “And I drink to _you_!” -or else, “I pledge you back, good Sir!” - -These toasts and challenges and replies, so made and arranged as to -suit with the acts of each, continued some longish while, till at -length the Prince, a wily and suspicious man, did suspect something. So -setting a watch, he did discover how his wife was gaily cuckolding him -all the while, and making good cheer and drinking toasts just as well -as he was, by way of retaliation and revenge. Then having made sure -it was verily so, he did quick alter and transform his comedy into a -tragedy; and having challenged her for the last time with his toast, -and she having rendered him back his answer and as good as he gave, he -did instantly mount upstairs, and forcing and breaking down the door, -rushes in and reproaches her for her ill-doing. But she doth make -answer on her side in this wise, “I know well I am a dead woman. So -kill me bodily; I am not afraid of death, and do welcome it gladly, now -I am avenged on you, seeing I have made you cuckold. For you did give -me great occasion thereto, without which I had never gone astray. I had -vowed all fidelity to you, and never should I have broken my troth for -all the temptations in the whole world. Nay! you were no wise worthy -of so honest a wife as I. So kill me straightway; but if there is any -pity in your hand, pardon, I beseech you, this poor gentleman, who of -himself is no whit to blame, for I did invite him and urge him to help -me to my vengeance.” The Prince, over cruel altogether, doth ruthlessly -kill the twain. But what else should this unhappy Princess have done -in view of the indignities and insults of her husband, if not what, in -despair of any other succour in all the world, she did? Some there be -will excuse her, some accuse her; many arguments and good reasons may -be alleged thereanent on either side. - -In the _Cent Nouvelles_ of the Queen of Navarre is an almost similar -tale, and a very fine one to boot, of the Queen of Naples, who in like -manner did revenge herself on the King her husband. Yet was the end -thereof not so tragical.[47*] - - - 7. - -So now let us have done with these demons and mad, furious cuckolds and -speak no more of them, for that they be odious and unpleasing, seeing I -should never have finished if I should tell of them all, and moreover -the subject is neither good nor pleasant. Let us discourse a while of -kindly cuckolds, such as are good fellows, of placable humour, men -easy to deal with and of a holy patience, well humoured and readily -appeased, that shut the eyes and are—good-natured fools. - -Now of these some are predestined of their very nature to be so, some -know how it is before they marry, to wit, know that their ladies, -widows or maids, have already gone astray; others again know naught of -it at all, but marry them on trust, on the word of their fathers and -mothers, their family and friends. - -I have known not a few which have married women and girls of loose -life, whom they well knew had been passed in review by sundry Kings, -Princes, Lords, gentlemen and other folk. Yet for love of them, or -attracted by their goods, jewels and money that they had won at the -trade of love, have made no scruple to wed them. However I propose here -to speak only of the girls of this sort. - -I have heard speak of a mistress of a very great and sovereign Prince, -who being enamoured of a certain gentleman, and in such wise behaving -herself toward him as to have received the first fruits of his love, -was so desirous thereof that she did keep him a whole month in her -closet, feeding him on fortifying foods, savoury soups, dainty and -comforting meats, the better to distil and draw off his substance. Thus -having made her first apprenticeship with him, did she continue her -lessons under him so long as he lived, and under others too. Afterward -she did marry at the age of forty-five years to a Lord,[48] who found -naught to say against her, but rather was right proud of so rare a -marriage as he had with her. - -Boccaccio repeats a proverb which was current in his day to the effect -that _a mouth once kissed_ (others have it differently) _is never out -of luck; her fortune is like the moon, and waxeth ever anew_. This -proverb he doth quote in connection with a story he relates of that -fair daughter of the Sultan of Egypt who did pass and repass by the -weapons of nine different lovers, one after the other, at the least -three thousand times in all. At long last was she delivered to the King -of Garba a pure virgin, that is, ’twas so pretended, as pure as she was -at the first promised to him; and he found no objection to make, but -was very well pleased. The tale thereof is a right good one. - -I have heard a great man declare that, with many great men, though not -all it may be supposed, no heed is paid in case of women of this sort -to the fact, though three or four lovers have passed them through their -hands, before they make them their wives. This he said anent of a story -of a great Lord who was deeply enamoured of a great lady, and one of -something higher quality than himself, and she loved him back. However -there fell out some hindrance that they did not wed as they did expect -one with the other. Whereupon this great nobleman, the which I have -just spoken of, did straightway ask: “Did he mount the little jade, -anyway?” And when he was answered, “no!”—in the other’s opinion and -by what men told him, “So much the worse then,” he added, “for at any -rate they had had so much satisfaction one of the other, and no harm -would have been done!” For among the great no heed is paid to these -rules and scruples of maidenhood, seeing that for these grand alliances -everything must be excused. Only too delighted are they, the good -husbands and gentle suckling cuckolds. - -At the time when King Charles did make the circuit of his Kingdom, -there was left behind in a certain good town, which I could name very -well had I so wished, a female child whereof an unmarried girl of a -very good house had been delivered.[49*] So the babe was given to a -poor woman to nurse and rear, and there was advanced to her a sum of -two hundred crowns for her pains. The said poor woman did nurse the -infant and manage it so well that in fifteen years’ time the girl grew -up very fair, and gave herself to a life of pleasure. For never another -thought had she of her mother, who in four months after wedded a very -great nobleman. Ah! how many such have I known of either sex, where the -like things have been, and no man suspecting aught! - -I once heard tell, when I was in Spain, of a great Lord of Andalusia -who had married a sister of his to another very great Lord, and who -three days after the marriage was consummated, came and said to him -thus: _Señor hermano, agora que soys cazado con my herman, y l’haveys -bien godida solo, yo le hago aher que siendo hija, tal y tal gozaron -d’ella. De lo passado no tenga cuydado, que poca cosa es. Dell futuro -quartate, que mas y mucho a vos toca._ (My Lord and brother, now that -you are married to my sister and alone enjoy her favours, it behooves -you to know that when she was yet unwed, such and such an one did have -her. Take no heed of the past, for truly ’tis but a small thing; but -beware of the future, seeing now it doth touch you much more close),—as -much as to say that what is done is done, and there is no need to talk -about it, but it were well to be careful of the future, for this is -more nearly concerned with a man’s honour than is the past. - -Some there be are of this humour, thinking it not so ill to be cuckold -in the bud, but very ill in the flower,—and there is some reason in -this. - -I have likewise heard speak of a great Lord of a foreign land,[50*] -which had a daughter who was one of the fairest women in the world; -and she being sought in marriage by another great Lord who was well -worthy of her was bestowed on him by her father. But before ever he -could let her go forth the house, he was fain to try her himself, -declaring he would not easily let go so fine a mount and one which he -had so carefully trained, without himself having first ridden thereon, -and found out how she could go for the future. I know not whether it -be true, but I have heard say it is, and that not only he did make the -essay, but another comely and gallant gentleman to boot. And yet did -not the husband thereafter find anything bitter, but all as sweet as -sugar. He had been very hard to please if he had otherwise, for she was -one of the fairest dames in all the world. - -I have heard the like tales told of many other fathers, and in especial -of one very great nobleman, with regard to their daughters. For herein -are they said to have shown no more conscience than the Cock in Aesop’s -Fable. This last, when he was met by the Fox, who did threaten him and -declare he purposed to kill him, did therefore proceed to rehearse all -the benefits he wrought for mankind and above all else the fair and -excellent poultry that came from him. To this the fox made answer, “Ha, -ha!” said he, “that is just my quarrel with you, sir gallant! For so -lecherous are you, you make no difficulty to tread your own daughters -as readily as the other hens,” and for this crime did put him to death. -Verily a stern and artful judge! - -I leave you then to imagine what some maids may do with their -lovers,—for never yet was there a maid but had or was fain to have a -lover,—and that some there be that brothers, cousins and kinsfolk have -done the like with. - -In our own days Ferdinand, King of Naples,[51] knew thus in wedlock -his own aunt, daughter of the King of Castile, at the age of 13 or 14 -years, but this was by dispensation of the Pope. Difficulties were -raised at the time as to whether this ought to be or could be so given. -Herein he but followed the example of Caligula, the Roman Emperor, who -did debauch and have intercourse with each of his sisters, one after -the other. And above and beyond all the rest, he did love exceedingly -the youngest, named Drusilla, whom when only a lad he had deflowered. -And later, being then married to one Lucius Cassius Longinus, a man of -consular rank, he did take her from her husband, and lived with her -openly, as if she had been his wife,—so much so indeed that having -fallen sick on one occasion, he made her heiress of all his property, -including the Empire itself. But it fell out she died, which he did -grieve for so exceedingly sore that he made proclamation to close the -Courts and stay all other business, in order to constrain the people -to make public mourning along with him. And for a length of time he -wore his hair long and beard untrimmed for her sake; and when he was -haranguing the Senate, the People or his soldiers, never swore but by -the name of Drusilla. - -As for his other sisters, when that he had had his fill of them, he -did prostitute them and gave them up to his chief pages which he had -reared up and known in very foul fashion. Still even so he had done -them no outrageous ill, seeing they were accustomed thereto, and that -it was a pleasant injury, as I have heard it called by some maids on -being deflowered and some women who had been ravished. But over and -above this, he put a thousand indignities upon them; he sent them into -exile, he took from them all their rings and jewels to turn into money, -having wasted and ill guided all the vast sums Tiberius had left him. -Natheless did the poor girls, having after his death come back from -banishment, and seeing the body of their brother ill and very meanly -buried under a few clods of earth, have it disinterred and burned and -duly buried as honourably as they could. Surely a good and noble deed -on the part of sisters to a brother so graceless and unnatural! - -The Italian, by way of excusing the illicit love of his countryman, -says that _quando messer Bernardo, il buciacchio sta in colera et in -sua rabbia, non riceve legge, et non perdona a nissuna dama_,—“when -messer Bernardo, the young ox, stand up in anger and in his passion, he -will receive no laws and spare no lady.” - -We can find plenty of examples amongst the Ancients of such as have -done the same. However to come back to our proper subject, I have heard -a tale of one who having married a fair and honourable damsel to one -of his friends, and boasting that he had given him a right good and -noble mount, sound, clean and free from knots and malanders, as he put -it, and that he lay the more under obligation to him therefor, he was -answered by one of the company, who said aside to one of his comrades: -“That is all quite true, if only she had not been mounted and ridden so -young and far too soon. For it has made her a bit _foulée_ in front.” - -But likewise I would fain ask these noble husbands whether, if such -mounts had not often some fault, some little thing wrong with them, -some defect or blemish, they would make the match with others who are -more deserving than they, like horse-dealers who do all they can to get -rid of their blemished horses, but always with those that know naught -of the matter. Even so, as I have heard many a father say, ’tis a very -fine riddance to be quit of a blemished daughter, or one that doth -begin to be so, or seems by her looks like to be. - -How many damsels of the great world I know who have not carried their -maidenhood to the couch of Hymen, but who have for all that been well -instructed of their mothers, or other their kinswomen and friends, -right cunning pimps as they are, to make a good show at this first -assault. Divers are the means and contrivances they do resort to with -artful subtleties, to make their husbands think it well and convince -them never a breach has been made before. The most part resort to the -making of a desperate resistance and defence at this point of attack, -and do fight obstinately to the last extremity. Whereof there are -some husbands much delighted, for they do firmly believe they have -had all the honour and made the first conquest, like right determined -and intrepid soldiers. Then next morning they have fine tales to tell, -how they have strutted it like little cocks or cockerels that have eat -much millet-seed in the evening, making many boasts to their comrades -and friends, and even mayhap to the very men who have been the first to -invade the fortress, unwittingly to them. Whereat these do laugh their -fill in their sleeves, and with the women their mistresses, and boast -they did their part well too, and gave the damsels as good as they got. - -Some suspicious husbands there be however who hold all this resistance -as of bad augury, and take no satisfaction in seeing them so -recalcitrant. Like one I know who asked his wife why did she thus play -the prude and make difficulties, and if she disdained him so much as -all that; but she thinking to make excuse and put off the fault on -something else than disdain, told him ’twas because she was afraid -he would hurt her. To this he retorted, “Now have you given proof -positive, for no hurt can be known without having been first suffered.” -But she was wily, and denied, saying she had heard tell of it by some -of her companions who had been married, and had so advised her. And, -“Hum! fine advice truly and fine words!” was all he could say. - -Another remedy these women recommend is this,—next morning after their -wedlock to show their linen stained with drops of blood, the which the -poor girls shed in the cruel work of their deflowering. So is it done -in Spain, where they do publicly display from the window the aforesaid -linen, crying aloud, “Virgen la tenemos,”—“we hold her for a maid.” - -Likewise of a surety I have heard say that at Viterbo[52] this custom -is similarly observed. Moreover, seeing such damsels as have previously -affronted the battle cannot make this display of their own blood, -they have devised the plan, as I have heard say, and as several young -courtesans at Rome have themselves assured me, the better to sell their -maidenhood, of staining the said linen with pigeon’s blood, which is -the most meet of all for the purpose. So next morning the husband doth -see the blood and doth feel a great satisfaction thereof, and doth -believe firmly ’tis the virginal blood of his wife. He thinks himself a -gallant and happy man, but he is sore deceived all the while. - -Hereanent will I repeat the following merry tale of a gentleman who -had his string tied in a knot the first night of his wedlock; but the -bride, who was not one of the very fair and high-born sort, fearing -he would be sore enraged thereat, did not fail, by advice of her good -comrades, matrons, kinswomen and good friends, to have the bit of linen -stained as usual. But the mischief for her was that the husband was so -sore tied that he could do naught at all, albeit she thought no harm -to make him a very enticing display and deck herself for the assault -as well as ever she could, and lie conveniently without playing the -prude or making any show of reluctance or deviltry. At least so the -lookers-on, hid near by according to custom, did report; and indeed she -did so the better to conceal the loss of her maidenhood elsewhere. But -for all the red linen, he had really done naught whatever. - -At night, by established custom, the midnight repast having been -carried in, there was as usual a worthy guest ready to advise that in -the customary wedding scramble they should filch away the sheet, which -they did find finely stained with blood. This was instantly displayed -and all in attendance were assured by loud cries she was no longer a -maid, and here was the evidence her virgin membrane had been deforced -and ruptured. The husband, who was quite certain he had done naught, -but who nevertheless was fain to pose as a brave and valiant champion, -remained sore astounded and wot not what this stained sheet might mean. -Only after sufficient pondering, he did begin to suspect some knavish, -cunning harlot’s trick, yet never breathed a word. - -The bride and her confidantes were likewise sore troubled and astounded -for that the husband had so missed fire, and that their business was -not turning out better. Nothing however was suffered to appear till -after a week’s time, when lo! the husband found his knot untied, and -did straight let fly with might and main. Whereat being right glad and -remembering naught else, he went forth and published to all the company -how in all good conscience he had now given proof of his prowess and -made his wife a true wife and a proper married woman; but did confess -that up till then he had been seized with absolute impotence to do -aught. Hereupon those present at the time did hold diverse discourse, -and cast much blame and scorn on the bride, whom all had deemed a wife -by her stained linen. Thus did she bring scandal on herself,—albeit she -was not properly speaking an altogether cause thereof, but rather her -husband, who by feebleness, slackness and lack of vigour did spoil his -own wedding. - -Again, there are some husbands that do know at their first night as to -the maidenhood of their wives, whether they have won it or no, by the -signs they find. So one that I know, who did marry a wife in second -wedlock; but the wife was for making him believe her first husband had -never touched her, by reason of his impotence, and that she was virgin -and a maid, as much as before being married at all. Yet did he find her -of such ample capacity that he exclaimed, “What ho! are _you_ the maid -of Marolles, so tight and small as they told me you were?” So he had -just to take it as it was, and make the best of it. For if her first -husband had never touched her, as was quite true, yet many another man -had. - - - 8. - -But what are we to say of some mothers who, seeing the impotence of -their sons-in-law, or that they have the string knotted or some other -defect, are procuresses to their own daughters. Thus to win their -jointures, they get them to yield to others, and often to become with -child by them, to the end they may have offspring to inherit after the -death of the father. - -I know one such who was ready enough to give this counsel to her -daughter, and indeed spared no effort to bring it about, but the -misfortune for her was that never could she have a child at all. Also I -know a husband who, not being able to do aught to his wife, did yield -his place to a big lackey he had, a handsome lad, to lie with his wife -and deflower her as she slept, and in this way save his honour. But -she did discover the trick and the lackey had no success. For which -cause they had a long suit at law, and finally were separated. - -King Henry of Castile[53] did the like, who as Fulgosius[53] relates, -seeing he could make no children with his wife, did call in the help of -a handsome young gentleman of his Court to make them for him. The which -he did; and for his pains the King gave him great estates and advanced -him in all honours, distinctions and dignities. Little doubt the wife -was grateful to him therefor, and did find the arrangement much to her -liking. This is what I call an accommodating cuckold! - -As to these “knotted strings” spoken of above, there was lately a law -process thereanent in the Court of the Parliament of Paris, between -the Sieur de Bray, High Treasurer, and his wife, to whom he could do -naught, suffering as he did from this or other like defect, for which -the wife, once well married, did call him to account. It was ordered -by the Court that they should be visited, the two of them, by great -doctors expert in these matters. The husband did choose his, and the -wife hers. And hereon was writ a right merry sonnet at the Court, the -which a great lady read over to me herself, and gave me, whenas I was -dining with her. ’Twas said a lady had writ it, though others said a -man. Here it is: - - - SONNET - - Entre les médecins renommés à Paris - En sçavoir, en espreuve, en science, en doctrine, - Pour juger l’imparfait de la coupe androgine, - Par de Bray et sa femme ont esté sept choisis, - De Bray a eu pour lui les trois de moindre prix, - Le Court, l’Endormy, Piétre: et sa femme plus fine, - Les quatre plus experts en l’art de médecine, - Le Grand, le Gros, Duret et Vigoureux a pris. - - On peut par là juger qui des deux gaignera, - Et si le Grand du Court victorieux sera, - Vigoureux d’Endormy, le Gros, Duret, de Piètre. - - Et de Bray n’ayant point ces deux de son costé, - Estant tant imparfait que mari le peut estre, - A faute de bon droict en sera débouté. - - (Among all the great doctors of Paris, famed for knowledge, skill, - science and learning, seven were chosen out by de Bray and his wife, - to judge of the defect in the cup of man and wife.—De Bray has on - his side the three of lesser price, Le Court, l’Endormy, Piètre - (Drs. Short, Sleepy, Puny); his wife has been cleverer and taken - Le Grand, Le Gros, Duret and Vigoureux (Drs. Tall, Stout, Hardy - and Vigorous).—From this it may be guessed which of the pair will - gain the day, and if Le Grand will give a good account of Le Court, - Vigoureaux, of Endormy, Le Gros and Duret of Piètre.—So de Bray not - having these two on his side, and being as ill-dowered as a husband - can well be, for lack of a good case will surely be nonsuited.) - -I have heard speak of another husband, who did hold his new-made wife -in his arms the first night; and she was so ravished with delight and -pleasure that quite forgetting herself she could not refrain from a -slight turning and twisting and mobile action of the body, such as -new wed wives are scarce wont to make. At this he said naught else, -but only, “Ha, ha! I know now,” and went on his way to the end. These -be our cuckolds _in embryo_, of the which I could tell thousands of -tales, but I should never have done. And the worst thing I see in them -is when they wed cow and calf at once, as the saying is, and take them -when already great with child. Like one I know, who had married a very -fair and honourable damsel, by the favour and wish of their Prince and -feudal Lord, who was much attached to the said gentleman and had made -the marriage. But at the end of a week it became known she was with -child, and she did actually publish it abroad, the better to play her -part. The Prince, who had always suspected some love-making between -her and another, said to her, “My lady! I have carefully writ down -on my tablets the day and hour of your marriage; when folk shall set -these against the time of your bringing to bed, you will have bitter -shame!” But she at this word only blushed a little, and did naught else -thereanent, but only kept ever the mien and bearing of a _donna da ben_ -(virtuous lady).[54*] - -Then again there are some daughters which do so fear their father and -mother they had rather lose the life out of their bodies than their -maidenhood, dreading their parents an hundred times more than their -husbands. - -I have heard speak of a very fair and honourable damsel, who being -sore tempted by her lover to take her pleasure of his love, did answer -“under this cloak of marriage which doth cover all, we will take our -joy with a right good will.” - -Another, being eagerly sought after by a great nobleman, she said to -him, “Petition our Prince and put some pressure on him, that he wed me -soon to him that is now my suitor, and let me quickly make good my -marriage that he hath promised me. The day after my wedding, if we meet -not one another, why! the bargain is off!” - -I know a lady who was wooed to love but four days before her bridal -by a gentleman, and kinsman of her husband; yet six days after he did -enjoy his will,—at any rate he did make boast to the effect. Nor was -it hard to believe, for they did show such familiarity the one to the -other, you would have said they had been brought up together all their -lives. Moreover he did even tell sundry signs and marks she had on her -body, and further that they did continue their merry sport long while -after. The gentleman always declared the familiarity that did afford -them opportunity to come so far was, that in order to carry out a -masquerade they did change clothes with one another. He took the dress -of his mistress and she that of her admirer, whereat the husband did -nothing but laugh, though some there were did find occasion to blame -them and think ill of the thing. - -There was made a song about it at Court,—of a husband who was married -o’ Tuesday and cuckolded o’ Thursday, a fair rate of progress in sooth! - -What shall we say of another damsel who was long while wooed by a -gentleman of a good house and rich, but for all that niggardly and not -worthy of her? So being hard pressed at the instance of her family -to marry him, she made answer she had liever die than marry him, and -that he should be spoken thereof to her or to her kinsfolk. For, she -declared, if they did force her to marry him, she would only make him -cuckold. But for all that it behooved to go by that road, for so was -she constrained by the urgency of all the great folk, men and women, -who had influence and authority over her, as well as by her kinsfolks’ -orders. - -On the eve of her bridal, her husband seeing her all sad and pensive, -asked her what ailed her; and she did answer him angrily, “You would -never believe me, and be persuaded to leave off your pursuit of me. You -know what I have always said, that if ever I were so unfortunate as to -become your wife, I would make you cuckold. And I swear I will do so, -and keep my word to you.” She was in no wise dainty about saying the -same before sundry of her lady companions and male admirers. Afterward -rest assured she was as good as her word, and did show him she was a -good and true woman, for that she kept her promise faithfully! - -I leave you to judge whether she is to be blamed, for a man once warned -should be twice careful, and she did plainly tell him the ill plight he -would fall into. So why would he not take heed? But indeed he thought -little enough of what she said. - -These maids which thus let themselves go astray straightway after being -married, but do as the Italian proverb saith: _Che la vacca, ché é -stata molto tempo ligata, corre più ché quella ché ha havuto sempre -piana libertá_,—“The cow that hath been long tied up, runs more wild -than one that hath ever had her full liberty.” Thus did the first wife -of Baldwyn, King of Jerusalem, whom I have spoken of before, who having -been forced to take the veil by her husband, brake from the cloister -and escaped out, and making now for Constantinople, behaved herself in -such wanton wise as that she did bestow her favours on all wayfarers by -that road, whether going or coming, as well men-at-arms as pilgrims to -Jerusalem, without heed to her Royal rank. But the reason was the long -fast she had had therefrom during her imprisonment. - -I might easily name many other such. Well! they are a good sort of -cuckolds these, as are likewise those others which suffer their wives’ -unfaithfulness, when these be fair and much sought after for their -beauty, and abandon them to it, in order to win favour for themselves, -and draw profit and wealth therefrom. Many such are to be seen at the -Courts of great Kings and Princes, the which do get good advantage -thereby; for from poor men as they were aforetime, whether from -pledging of their goods, or by some process of law, or mayhap through -the cost of warlike expeditions, they be brought low, are they straight -raised up again and enriched greatly by way of their good wives’ -_trou_. Yet do they find no diminution whatever in that same place, but -rather augmentation! - -Herein was the case different with a very fair lady I have heard tell -of, for that she had lost the half of her affair by misadventure, her -husband having, so they said, given her the pox which had eaten it away -for her. - -Truly the favours and benefits of the great may well shake the most -chaste hearts, and are cause of many and many a cuckoldry. And -hereanent I have heard the tale related of a foreign Prince[55] who -was appointed General by his Sovereign Prince and master of a great -expedition of War he had ordered to be made, and left his wife behind, -one of the fairest ladies in all Christendom, at his Master’s Court. -But this last did set to and make suit to her to such effect that he -very soon shook and laid low her resolve, and had his will so far that -he did get her with child. - -The husband, returning at the end of twelve or thirteen months, doth -find her in this state, and though sore grieved and very wroth against -her, durst not ask her the how and why of it. ’Twas for her, and very -adroit she was, to frame her excuses, and a certain brother-in-law of -hers to help her out. And this-like was the plea she made out: “’Tis -the issue of your campaign that is cause of this, which hath been taken -so ill by your Master,—for indeed he did gain little profit thereby. -So sorely have you been blamed in your absence for that you did not -carry out his behests better, that had not your Lord set his love on -me, you had verily been undone; and so to save you from undoing, I have -e’en suffered myself to be undone. Your honour is as much concerned as -mine own, and more, and for your advancement I have not spared the most -precious thing I possess. Reflect then if I have done so ill as you -might say at first; for without me, your life, your honour and favour -would all have been risked. You are in better case than ever, while the -matter is not so public that the stain to your repute be too manifest. -Wherefore, I beseech you to excuse and forgive me for that I have done.” - -The brother-in-law, who was of the best at a specious tale, and who -mayhap had somewhat to do with the lady’s condition, added thereto -yet other good and weighty words, so that at the last all ended well. -Thus was peace made, and the twain were of better accord than ever -living together in all freedom and good fellowship. Yet, or so have I -heard tell, did the Prince their master, the which had done the wrong -and had made all the difficulty, never esteem him so highly as he had -done aforetime, for having taken the thing so mildly. Never after did -he deem him a man of such high-souled honour as he had thought him -previously, though in his heart of hearts he was right glad the poor -lady had not to suffer for the pleasure she had given him. I have known -sundry, both men and women, ready to excuse the lady in question, and -to hold she did well so to suffer her own undoing in order to save her -husband and set him back again in his Sovereign’s favour. - -Ah! how many examples are to be found to match this; as that of a great -lady who did save her husband’s life, the which had been condemned to -death in full Court, having been convicted of great peculations and -malversations in his government and office. For which thing the husband -did after love her well all his life. - -I have heard speak again of a great Lord, who had been condemned to -have his head cut off; but lo! he being already set on the scaffold, -his pardon did arrive, the which his daughter, one of the fairest of -women,[56] had obtained. Whereon, being come down off the scaffold, he -did say this word, and naught else at all: “God save my girl’s good -_motte_, which hath saved my life!” - -Saint Augustine doth express a doubt whether a certain citizen of -Antioch, a Christian, did sin, when to acquit him of a heavy sum of -money for the which he was in strict confinement, he gave his wife -leave to lie with a gentleman of great wealth, who undertook to free -him from his debt. - -If such is the opinion of Saint Augustine, what would he not allow to -many women, widows and maids, who to redeem their fathers, kinsmen, -yea! sometimes their husbands themselves, do surrender their gentle -body under stress of many and sundry trials that fall to their lot, as -imprisonment, enslavement, peril to life itself, assaults and takings -of cities, and in a word an host of other the like incommodities. Nay! -sometimes to gain over captains and soldiers, to cause them to fight -stubbornly and hold their ground, or to sustain a siege or retake a -place,—I could recount an hundred instances,—they will go the length of -fearlessly prostituting their chastity to gain their ends. What evil -report or scandal can come to them for this? None surely, but rather -much glory and advantage. - -Who then will deny it to be a good thing on occasion to be cuckold, -forasmuch as a man may draw therefrom such advantages in the way of -life saved and favour regained, of honour, dignities and riches? How -many do I know in like case; and have heard speak of many more which -have been advanced by the beauty and bodies of their wives! - -I wish not to offend any, but I will take upon me to say this much, -that I have it from not a few, both men and women, how ladies have -served their mates right well, and how the merits of some of them have -not availed them near so much as their wives’. - -I know a great lady of much adroit skill who got the Order of St. -Michael bestowed on her husband, he being at that time the only one -that had it along with the two greatest Princes of Christendom. She -would oft tell him, and say out the same before everybody,—for indeed -she was of merry demeanour and excellent company: “Ha, ha! my friend, -you might have sweated yourself many a long day before you got this -pretty bauble to hang at your neck!” - -I have heard speak of a great man,[57*] in the days of King Francis, -who having received the Order, and being fain to make boast thereof one -day before M. de la Chastaigneraie, my uncle, did say to him: “Ah! how -glad would you be to have this Order hanging at your neck like me!” My -uncle, who was ready of tongue and high of hand and hot-tempered, if -ever man was, straight replied: “I had rather be dead than have it by -the way you had it by!” The other answered never a word, for he knew -the man he had to deal with. - -I have heard the story told of a great Lord, whose wife had begged -for him the patent appointing him to one of the great offices of his -district and did bring it to him in his house, his Prince having -bestowed it upon him only by favour of his wife. But he would in no -wise accept it, forasmuch as he was aware his wife had tarried three -months with the Prince in high favour, and not without suspicions of -something worse. Herein he did manifest the same nobility of spirit he -had shown all his life; yet at the last he did take it, after having -done a thing I had rather not name.[58*] - -And this is how fair ladies have made as many knights as battles, and -more,—the which I would name, knowing their names as well as another, -were it not I desired to avoid speaking ill of any, or making scandal. -And if they have given them these honours, they have brought them much -riches as well. - -I know one who was but a poor devil when he first brought his wife to -Court, the which was a very beautiful woman. And lo! in less than two -years they were in good ease and become very rich folk. - - - 9. - -Well! we must needs think highly of these ladies which do thus raise -their husbands in wealth and position, and make them cuckolds not -without compensation. Even as men say of Marguerite de Namur, who was -so foolish as to bind herself and give all ever she could to Louis, -Duke of Orleans, one who was so great and puissant a Lord already, and -brother to the King. To this end she did get from her husband whatever -she could, till at the last he became a poor man, and was forced to -sell his Earldom of Blois to the said M. d’Orléans.[59*] And this -latter,—to think of it!—did pay him therefore in the very same coin and -goods the man’s infatuate wife had given him. Foolish indeed she was, -for that she was giving to one greater than herself. And to think that -he did laugh at the pair of them, for in good sooth he was the very man -so to do, so fickle was he and inconstant in love. - -I know a great lady who, having fallen deep in love with a gentleman -of the Court, did accordingly suffer him to have his joy of her. And -not being able to give him money, seeing her husband ever kept his -hoard hid like a priest, did give him the greater part of her precious -stones, the which did mount up to a value of thirty thousand crowns. -Whence men said at Court he might well begin to build now, since he -had plenty of stones laid up and stored away. Soon afterward, being -come into a great inheritance and having put her hand on some twenty -thousand crowns, she scarce kept any thereof, but her lover did enjoy -the greater part. And ’twas said that if this inheritance had not -fallen in to her, not knowing what else she could give him, she would -have given him the very clothes off her body down to her shift itself. -Wherein are suchlike scamps and scorners greatly to blame so to set -about it and distil and draw off all the substance of these poor -creatures, so hot-headed and infatuate with passion and caprice. For -their purse, being so oft visited, cannot stay always swelled out and -at its full capacity, like the purse in front, which is ever in the -same condition, and ever ready for whosoever wills to fish therein, -without the captives that have entered and come forth again of the same -finding a word to say against it. This worthy gentleman, whom I spoke -of as so well stocked with stones, came some time after to die. Then -did all his effects, as is the way at Paris, come to be cried and sold -at public auction, and so were in this wise reckoned up and known by -many persons as having belonged to the lady, not without bitter and -deep shame to the same. - -There was a great Prince who loving a very honourable lady, did -purchase a dozen diamond studs, brilliants of the first water and -admirably set, with their Egyptian letters and hieroglyphics, -containing a secret and cabalistic meaning, the which he did make -a present of to his mistress. But she after looking at the same -attentively, said to him that at present she found no need of -hieroglyphic lettering, forasmuch as the writings were already done -and accomplished between them twain, even as they had been between the -gentleman and the fair lady spoken of just above. - -I knew once a lady who was forever saying to her husband, how she had -rather make him criminal than cuckold. But truly the two words are -something equivocal, and mayhap more or less of both of these fine -qualities mated together in her and in her husband. - -Yet I have known well plenty of fair ladies that have not done so at -all. Rather have they kept the purse of their crown-pieces far tighter -drawn than that of their fair body. For, albeit very great ladies, -never would they be giving but a ring or two, a few favours and such -other little compliments, muffs or scarfs, to wear for love of them to -enhance their repute. - -Yet have I known one very great lady[60] which was exceeding free and -generous herein, for the least of her scarfs and the favours she was -used to give her lovers was worth five hundred crowns, a thousand -crowns, or even three, whereon was such abundance of embroidery, and -pearls, and cyphers, and cabalistic letters and pretty conceits, -nothing in all this world ever was richer and rarer to look on. And she -was right; for so her gifts, once made, were not hid away in chests or -in purses, like those of many other dames, but were displayed before -all men. For she deemed that her friends did manifest their worth -looking at them and showing them as tokens of her regard, whereas -such presents when made in coin did smack rather of common women that -give money to their bullies than of high-born and honourable ladies. -Sometimes again she would give beautiful rings of rich jewel-work, -forasmuch as favours and scarfs are not ordinarily worn, but only on -some great and high emprise, whereas a ring on the finger keeps better -company and more constant with the wearer. - -Though, verily, a gentle and noble-hearted knight should be of this -generous complexion that he had rather serve his lady for the beauties -which do make her shine resplendent than for all the shining gold and -silver she may have. - -For myself, I can boast of having served in my day honourable ladies, -and those of no low estate. But truly if I had been willing to take -all they gave me and extract from their generosity all I might have -had, why, I should be a richer man to-day, whether in goods or money -or plenishing, than I am by a good thirty thousand crowns; yet have I -alway been content to make evident my love rather by my generosity than -by my avariciousness. - -Without doubt there is good reason for it, that inasmuch as the man -doth put somewhat of his own into the purse the woman hath, the woman -should likewise put something of hers in the man’s. Yet herein must due -proportion be kept; for just as the man cannot cast in and give as much -of his into the woman’s purse as she would fain have, so is the man -bound in fairness not to draw from that of the woman all he would. The -law of give and take must needs be observed and proper measure kept. - -I have moreover before now seen many gentlemen lose the love of their -mistresses by reason of the importunity of their demands and their -inordinate rapacity. For these, seeing them such beggars and so eager -to have their pay, have quietly broke off the connexion and left them -in the lurch, and that notwithstanding the excellent service rendered. - -Wherefore it is that every noble-minded lover were better to be guilty -of greed for his lady’s body than for her money; because supposing the -lady to be over generous of her goods, the husband finding his property -lessening apace, is more angered thereat ten times over than at a -thousand largesses she may have made of her person. - -Further, some cuckolds there be that are made such in the way of -revenge. I mean that often men who have a grudge against some great -Lord or gentleman or other person, from the which they have received -injuries and affronts, do avenge their wrongs on them by making love -to their wives, whom they do debauch and make fine cuckolds of their -enemies. - -I knew once a great Prince who had suffered from sundry attempts at -rebellion on the part of one of his subjects, a great Lord, yet was -all unable to revenge himself, seeing the offender did all he could to -escape him, so that the Prince could never lay hands on him. However, -his wife having one day come to Court to solicit her husband’s pardon -and the better ordering of his case, the Prince did appoint with her to -meet him to confer thereof in a garden and a chamber adjoining it. But -it was really to talk of love to her, wherein he won his triumph on the -spot, without much ado, for she was of very accommodating character. -Nor did he content himself with having her in his proper person, but -did likewise prostitute her to others, down to the very footmen of the -chambers. And in this wise would the Prince declare he did feel himself -well revenged on his unfaithful subject, having so debauched his -wife and crowned his head with a good coronal of horns. Albeit but a -subject, he had been fain to play petty king and sovereign; but instead -of winning a regal crown of fleurs-de-lis, he had gotten himself a fine -one of horns![61] - -This same Prince did a like thing in another case at the instigation -of his mother, for he did debauch a Princess that was a maid, well -knowing she was to wed a certain Prince who had done him displeasure -and sore troubled his brother’s government. Thus he did deflower her -and had his will of her finely; yet after two months was she delivered -to the poor Prince as a virgin and to be his wife. The revenge herefor -was of the mildest,—pending other action that did ensue later, of a -harsh and violent enough sort.[61] - -I knew once a very honourable gentleman who, being lover of a fair lady -and one of good belongings, did ask her for the recompense of his long -love and courtship; but she answered frankly, she would not give him so -much as a single doit’s worth, seeing she was quite assured he loved -her not for this, and bare her not such fond affection for her beauty’s -sake, as he alleged. His wish was rather, by having his will of her, -to avenge himself on her husband, who had done him some displeasure; -wherefore he was fain to win this consolation to his pride and to feel -for the future he had had the upper hand. But the gentleman, assuring -her of the contrary, continued to court her humbly for more than two -years longer, and this so faithfully and with such passion, that at the -last she did show such ample and full gratitude that she did grant him -all she had before refused, declaring that had she not, at the first -beginning of their courtship, supposed some idea of vengeance intended -to be in his mind, she would immediately have made him as happy a man -as she now did at the end, for that her natural bent was to love and -prefer him. Note how the lady was able wisely to command her passion -so that love did never carry her away to do what all the while she did -most desire, for that she wished to be loved for her own sake and not -merely as a means to a man’s vengeance on another. - -The late M. du Gua, one of the truly gallant and perfect gentlemen of -the world in every way, did invite me to the Court one day to dine -with him. He had brought together a dozen of the most learned men of -the Court, amongst others the Lord Bishop of Dol,[62] of the house of -Espinay in Brittany, MM. de Ronsard, de Baïf, Des Portes, d’Aubigny -(the last two are still living, and could contradict me, if I lie), -and others whose names I forget. Amongst them all was no man of the -sword but only M. du Gua and myself. The discourse during dinner -turned on love, and the commodities and incommodities, pleasures -and displeasures, good and ill, it brought in its train. After each -guest had declared his opinion on the one side or the other, himself -did conclude that the sovereign good of its gratification lay in -this vengeance it made possible, and prayed each of all these great -personages to make a _quatrain_ thereon impromptu. This they all did, -and I would I had them to insert here; but his Lordship of Dol, whose -words were true gold, whether spoke or writ, did bear off the prize. - -And doubtless M. du Gua had good reason to maintain this view, as -against two great Lords of my acquaintance, whom he did cause to wear -the horns for the hatred he bare them. Their wives were very fair -women, so in this case he did win double pleasures, satisfaction of -his vengeance and gratification of his passions. Many other folk have -so revenged themselves and taken delight herein, and accordingly have -shared in the same opinion. - -Moreover I have known many fair and honourable ladies, who did say and -affirm that, when their husbands had maltreated or bullied them, rated -or censured them, beat them or otherwise ill-used and outraged them, -their greatest joy and delight was to give them a pair of horns, and -in the act, to think of them, and scoff and mock and make fun of them -with their paramours, going so far as to declare they did hereby have a -greater access of appetite and sure delight of pleasure than could well -be described. - -I have heard speak of a fair and honourable lady who, being asked -once if ever she had made her husband cuckold, did make answer, “Nay! -why should I have made him so, seeing he hath never beat nor even -threatened me?” As though implying that, if he had done either one or -the other, her champion that she had in front would very soon have -revenged her. - -And speaking of wit and mockery, I once knew a very honourable and fair -lady who, being in these gentle transports of pleasure, did chance by -dint of her wild caresses to break an earring she had in the shape -of a cornucopia, which was but of black glass, such as were worn in -those days. Whereupon she cried instantly to her lover, “Look you, how -provident Dame Nature is; I have broken one horn, but here I am making -a dozen others for my poor cuckold of a husband, to bedeck him withal -some fine feast-day, if he so will.” - -Another, having left her husband a-bed and asleep, went to see her -lover before lying down herself. Then asked he her where her husband -was, and she did reply, “He is keeping his bed, guarding his cuckoo’s -nest for fear another come to lay therein. But ’tis not with his bed, -nor his sheets, nor his nest you have to do, but with me, who am come -to see you. I have left him there as sentinel, though truly he is but a -sleepy one.” - -Talking of sentinels, I have heard a tale told of a certain gentleman -of consideration, whom I well knew, who one day coming to words with -a very honourable lady, whom also I knew, he did ask her, by way of -insult, if she had ever gone on pilgrimage to Saint Mathurin.[63] “Oh, -yes!” she replied, “but I could never get into the Church, for so full -and so well occupied was it with cuckolds, they would never suffer me -to enter. And you, who were one of the foremost, were mounted on the -steeple, to act sentinel and warn the others.” - -I could tell a thousand other such tales, but I should never have done. -Yet do I hope to find room for some of them in some corner or other of -my book. - - - 10. - -Some cuckolds there be which are good-natured and which of their own -impulse do invite themselves to this feast of cuckoldry. Thus I have -known some who would say to their wives, “Such and such an one is in -love with you; I know him well, and he often cometh to visit us, but -’tis for love of you, my pretty. Give him good welcome; he can do us -much pleasure, his acquaintance may advantage us greatly.” - -Others again will say to their wives’ admirers, “My wife is in love -with you, and right fond of you. Come and see her, you will give her -pleasure; you can chat and hold discourse together, and pass the time -agreeably.” So do they invite folk to feast at their expense. As did -the Emperor Hadrian,[64] who being one time in Britain (as we read in -his Life), carrying on War there, did receive sundry warnings, how that -his wife, the Empress Sabina, was making unbridled love with a number -of gallant Roman noblemen. As fate would have it, she had writ and -despatched a letter from Rome to a certain young Roman gentleman who -was with the Emperor in Britain, complaining that he had forgot her, -and took no more account of her, and that it must needs be he had some -intrigue in that region and that some affected little wanton had caught -him in the lakes of her beauty. This letter fell by chance into the -Emperor’s hands; and when the nobleman in question did some days after -ask leave of absence under colour of wishing to go to Rome immediately -for family affairs of his own, Hadrian said to him in mocking wise, -“Well, well! young sir, go there,—and boldly, for the Empress, my wife, -is expecting you in all affection.” But the Roman hearing this, and -finding the Emperor had discovered his secret and might likely play -him some ill turn, started the very next night, without saying by your -leave or with your leave, and took refuge in Ireland. - -Still he had no need to be greatly afraid for all this. Indeed the -Emperor himself would often say, being regaled continually with tales -of the extravagant love affairs of his wife, “Why, certainly, were I -not Emperor, I should have long ago rid me of my wife; but I desire -not to show an evil example.” As much as to say, it matters not to -the great to be in this case, so long as they let it not be known -publicly. And what a fate for great men,—one which truly some of them -have consented to, though not for the same reason! So we see this good -Emperor suffering himself complacently to be made cuckold. - -Another good Emperor, Marcus Aurelius,[65] who had as wife Faustina, a -downright harlot, replied on being advised to put her away, “If we give -her up, we are bound also to give up her dowry, which is the Empire.” -And who would not be cuckold like him for such a prize, or even a less -one? - -His son, Antonius Verus, surnamed Commodus, though he grew up very -cruel, yet held the like language to such as advised him to have the -said Faustina, his mother, put to death. So madly in love was she and -so hot after a gladiator that she could never be cured of the fierce -malady, till at last they bethought them to kill the rascally gladiator -and make her drink his blood. - -Many and many a husband hath done and doth the same as the good Marcus -Aurelius, for they do fear to kill their wives, whores though they -be, for dread of losing the great fortunes they have of them, and had -rather be rich cuckolds on these easy terms than cruel villains. - -Heavens! how many of the sort have I known, who were forever inviting -their kinsmen and friends and comrades to come and visit their wives, -going so far as to make banquets for them, the better to attract them. -Then, when they were there, they would leave them alone with the lady -in bedchamber or closet, and so away, with the words, “I leave my wife -in your care.” - -One I knew, a nobleman of the great world, of such behaviour you would -have said his whole happiness did rest in this only, to be cuckolded. -He seemed to make it his study to give opportunities therefor, and -especially never forgot to say this first word, “My wife is in love -with you; do you love her as well as she loves you, I wonder?” Many -a time when he saw his wife with her admirer, he would carry off -the company from the room to take a walk, leaving the twain of them -together, so giving them good leisure to discuss their loves. And if by -any chance he had to return of a sudden into the room, from the very -bottom step of the stairs he would begin shouting aloud, calling after -someone, spitting or coughing, to the end he might not catch the lovers -in the act. For commonly, even though one know of them and suspect -their coming, these peeps and surprises are scarce pleasant whether to -the one party or the other. - -This same Lord was having a fine mansion built one time, and the -master mason having asked whether he would not have the cornices -_h_orn-amented, he made answer, “I don’t know what _h_ornamentation -means. Go and ask my wife who understands the thing, and knows -geometry; and whatever she tells you to do, do it.” - -Still worse was it with one I know of, who one day selling one of his -estates to a purchaser for fifty thousand crowns, did take forty-five -thousand of the sum in gold and silver, and in lieu of the remaining -five accepted a unicorn’s horn. Huge laughter amid them that knew him; -“Ha, ha!” they said, “as if he had not enough horns at home already, -that he must fit in this one to boot.” - -I knew a very great Lord, a brave and gallant man, who did greet a -certain honourable gentleman and profess himself his very good servant, -yet adding with a smile these words, “My dear Sir, I know not what -you have done to my wife, but she is so much in love with you that -day and night she doth nothing but speak to me of you, and is forever -singing your praises. For all answer I tell her I have known you -longer than she hath, and am well aware of your worth and deserts, -which are great.” Who more astonished than this same gentleman? for -he had but just taken in this lady on his arm to Vespers, which the -Queen was attending, and that was all. However, he at once regained his -countenance and replied, “Sir! I am your wife’s most humble servant, -and deeply grateful for the good opinion she hath of me, and do greatly -respect her. Yet do I not make love to her,” he went on in a merry -tone. “All I do is to pay her my court, herein following the good -advice yourself gave me quite lately, seeing she hath much influence -with my mistress, whom I may be enabled to wed by her help, and -therefore do hope she will give me her assistance.” - -The Prince had no suspicion and did naught but laugh and admonish the -gentleman to court his wife more assiduously than ever. This he did, -being right glad under this pretext to be lover to so fair a lady and -so great a Princess, who soon made him forget his other mistress he had -been fain to wed, and scarce to think of her again, except to find her -a convenient mask to dissemble and cover up the whole thing withal. -Even so could the Prince not help but feel some pangs of jealousy when -one day he did see the said gentleman in the Queen’s chamber wearing on -his arm a ribband of Spanish scarlet, which had just been brought to -Court as a fine novelty, and which he did touch and handle as he talked -with him; then going to find his wife who was by the Queen’s bedside, -lo! he saw she had one that was its very match, which he did likewise -touch and handle and proved it to be like it in all respects and part -of the same piece as the other. Yet did he breathe never a word, nor -take any steps in the matter. And indeed in such intrigues it is -very needful to cover up their fires with such cinders of discretion -and good counsel as that they may never be discovered; for very oft -such discovery of the scandal will anger husbands far more against -their wives than when the same is done, but all in secret,—herein -illustrating the proverb, _Si non caste, tamen caute_,—“If not with -virtue, at any rate with prudence.” - -What terrible scandals and great incommodities have I seen in my time -arise from the indiscretions of ladies and their lovers! Yet would the -husbands have cared naught at all about the thing, if only they had -done their doings _sotto coperte_ (under cover, under the rose), as the -saying is, and the matter had never seen the light. - -I knew one dame who was all for manifesting quite openly her loves and -preferences, which she did indulge as if she had had no husband at -all, and had been her own mistress entirely, refusing to listen to the -counsels of her friends and lovers, who did remonstrate with her and -point out the inconveniences she was exposing herself to. And of these -she did later reap a sore harvest! - -This lady did otherwise than many worthy dames have done at all times, -who have gaily enjoyed love and lived a merry life, yet have never -given much evidence thereof to the world, except mayhap some small -suspicions, that could scarce have revealed the truth even to the -most clear-sighted. For they would address their lovers in public so -dexterously, and deal with them so adroitly, that neither husbands -nor spies, all their life long, could ever get aught to bite at. And -when their favourites departed on some journey, or came to die, they -would dissemble and conceal their grief so cunningly that none ever -discovered aught. - -I knew a fair and honourable lady, who the day a certain great Lord, -her lover, died, did appear in the Queen’s chamber with a countenance -as gay and smiling as the day before. Some did think highly of her -for such discretion, deeming she did so for fear of doing the King -displeasure and angering him, for that he liked not the man deceased. -Others blamed her, attributing this bearing rather to the lack of true -love, wherein ’twas said she was but poorly furnished, like all women -who lead the life she did. - -I knew on the other hand two fair and honourable ladies, who having -lost their lovers in a misadventure of war, did make great sorrow -and lamentation, and did make manifest their mourning by their dusky -weeds, and eke holy-water vessels and sprinklers of gold engraven with -figures, and death’s-heads, and all kinds of trophies of dissolution, -in their trinkets, jewels and bracelets which they wear. All this did -bring much scandal upon them and was greatly to their hurt; though -their husbands did take no special heed thereof.[66*] - -This is how these ladies do themselves hurt by the making public their -amours; these we may rightly praise and esteem for their constancy, -though not for their discretion, for on this last count what they do is -much to their disadvantage. - -And if ladies so doing are blameworthy, there be many likewise among -their lovers which do deserve reprimand quite as much as they. For they -will ever be putting on looks as they were half dead, like she-goats -in kid, and a most languorous mien, making eyes and casting appealing -glances, indulging in passionate gestures and lovesick sighs in -company, openly bedecking themselves with their ladies’ colours,—in a -word giving way to so many silly indiscretions that a blind man could -scarce fail to note them. Some of them moreover do the like more in -pretence than in reality, desiring to let all the Court understand they -are in love in an high quarter, and are happy in their amours. Whereas, -God wot, it may well be the ladies would not give them so much as one -poor farthing in alms, to save their repute for deeds of charity! - -I do know well a certain nobleman and great Lord, who desiring to -satisfy the world he was the lover of a fair and honourable lady that I -know of, had his little mule held in front of her door, with a couple -of his lackeys and pages. As it fell out, M. d’Estrozze[67*] and myself -did pass that way, and beheld this mystery of the mule and the man’s -pages and lackeys. He asked instantly where was their master, and they -replied he was within, in the lady’s house. Hereupon M. d’Estrozze -burst out a-laughing, and turning to me, said he would wager his life -he was not there at all. And in a moment after he posted his page -as sentinel to watch if the pretended lover should come forth; then -quickly we hied us to the Queen’s chamber, where we found our man,—not -without some laughter betwixt him and me. - -Then towards evening we went to greet him, and pretending to quarrel -with him, did ask him where he was at such and such an hour of the -afternoon, and how that he could not deceive us, as we had seen his -mule and his pages before the said lady’s door. But the fellow, making -as though he were vexed we had seen so much and were for this cause -attacking him for carrying out an intrigue in this high quarter, did -confess he was there in very truth. At the same time he besought us not -to breathe a word; else should we bring him into sore trouble, and the -poor lady would incur scandal and the displeasure of her husband. And -this we did faithfully promise him,—laughing all the while heartily -and making mock at him, albeit he was a nobleman of no small rank and -quality, and declaring we would not speak of the thing, and never a -syllable pass our lips. - -Finally after some days during which he did continue his trick with the -mule too often for our patience, we did discover our artfulness to him, -and attacked him with right good will and in good company. This made -him desist for very shame, and indeed the lady did know of it by this -time through our information, and had the mule and the pages watched -one day and incontinently driven away from her door like beggars in -front of an inn. Nay! we did even better, for we told the tale to -the husband, and that in such merry wise he found it right diverting -and laughed heartily at the thing, saying he had no fear this fellow -would make him cuckold, and that if ever he should find the said mule -and pages stationed at his door, he would have the gates opened and -invite them inside, to the end they might be more at ease and sheltered -from heat, cold or rain. Not but what others all the whole while were -cuckolding him soundly enough. And this is how this noble Lord was -fain, at the expense of an honourable lady and her repute, to exalt -himself, without any heed to the scandal he might cause thereby. - -I knew another nobleman who did bring sore scandal on a very fair and -honourable lady by his behaviour. He had for some while been in love -with her, and did urge her to grant him the little tit-bit reserved -for her husband’s mouth, but she did refuse him flatly. At last, after -several refusals, he said to her, as if in despair, “Well, if you -won’t, why, you won’t; but I give you my oath I will ruin your honour -and repute.” And to this end he bethought him to make many comings -and goings in secret, yet not so secret but that he made himself seen -of set purpose by sundry eyes, and let himself be noted by day and by -night frequenting the house where she dwelt. Then he would be ever -vaunting and boasting under the rose of his pretended successes, and -in company seeking out the lady with more familiarity than he had any -call to do, and among his comrades swaggering as the happy lover, and -this all in mere pretence. The end was that one night having slipped -in very late into the said lady’s bedchamber, all muffled in his cloak -and hiding from the folk of the house, and after playing sundry of his -stealthy tricks, he was suspected by the seneschal of the household, -who had a watch set. And though they could not find him, yet did the -husband beat his wife and give her several buffets; but later, urged -thereto by the seneschal, who said it was not punishment enough, -did stab her and kill her; and readily won his pardon therefor from -the King. A sad pity truly for the poor lady, who was very fair and -beauteous. Afterward the nobleman, which had been cause of all the -mischief, did not fare far or well, but was killed in a passage of war, -by God’s good will, for having so unjustly robbed an honourable lady of -her good name and her life. - - - 11. - -To tell the truth as to this example and a host of others I have seen, -there are some ladies which do themselves great wrong, and which are -the true cause of the scandal and dishonour they incur. For ’tis -themselves that do provoke the first skirmishes and purposely draw the -gallants to them, from the beginning lavishing on them the fondest -caresses, favours and familiarities, raising their hopes by all sorts -of gentle wiles and flattering words. Yet when it cometh to the point, -they will refuse outright, in such wise that the honourable gentlemen -which had promised themselves many a pleasant treat of their person, -fall into anger and despair and quit them with harsh words. So they -depart abusing them and giving them out for the biggest strumpets in -all the world, and make out an hundredfold worse tale of their demerits -than is really deserved. - -And this is why an honourable lady should never set herself to draw -a gallant to her, and suffer him to be her servant, if she will not -satisfy him at the last according to his deserts and loving service. -It behooves her to realize this, unless she would be undone, even when -she hath to do with an honourable and gallant man; else from the first -beginning, when he doth first accost her, and she sees it is with -this end so much desired in view, that he pay his vows to her, but -she feeleth no desire to gratify him herein, she should give him his -dismissal at the very threshold. For indeed, to speak quite candidly, -any woman that doth suffer a lover to court her, doth lay herself under -such obligation that she cannot withdraw afterward from the fight. -She is bound to come to it sooner or later, long though the coming may -sometimes be. - -There be some dames, however, whose joy is to be served for nothing, -but only for the light of their bright eyes. They say they love to be -served and courted, that this is their great happiness, and not to -come to the final act at all. Their pleasure, they declare, doth lie -in wishing for it, not in actually performing of it. I have known many -ladies which have told me this. Yet can they never stop there; for if -once they do begin wishing for it, without shadow of doubt they will -some day come to the doing of it as well. For this is the law of love, -that when once a woman doth wish or hope, or but dream of wishing and -desiring a man for herself, the thing is done. If only the man know it, -and steadily follow up his fair assailant, he will surely have leg or -wing, fur or feathers, as they say. - -In this wise then are poor husbands made cuckold by such thoughts on -the part of ladies, who are ready to wish forsooth, but not to do. For -truly, without suspecting it, they will of their own fault be burned in -the candle, or at the fire they have themselves built. Like poor simple -shepherdesses, which to warm themselves in the fields as they watch -their sheep and lambs, do kindle a little fire, without thought of any -harm or ill to follow. But they give no heed to the chance their little -fire may set so great an one ablaze as will burn up a whole countryside -of plains and woods. - -’Twere well if such ladies would take example, to teach them wisdom, -of the Comtesse d’Escaldasor, a very fair lady dwelling at Pavia, to -whom M. de Lescu, afterward known as the Maréchal de Foix, was paying -court. He was then a student at Pavia, and was called the Protonotary -de Foix, seeing he was destined for the Church, though afterward he did -quit the long robe to adopt the profession of arms. And he might well -love her, seeing at that day she bare the bell for beauty over all the -ladies of Lombardy. So seeing herself hotly pressed by him, yet not -wishing to rudely disoblige him or dismiss him roughly, for he was a -near kinsman of the renowned Gaston de Foix,[68*] at whose fame all -Italy trembled in those days, the Countess on a day of high festivity -and state at Pavia, whereat all the fairest ladies of the city and -neighbourhood were gathered and many noble gentlemen, did appear, -the fairest of them all, superbly attired in a robe of sky blue, all -trimmed and bespangled over all its length and breadth with torches -and butterflies fluttering round them and burning themselves in their -flame. The whole was in broidery of gold and silver, for truly the -embroiderers of Milan have ever surpassed those of all the rest of the -world, and won the lady the general repute of being the best adorned of -all the company there present. - -Then the Protonotary, leading her out to the dance, was moved to ask -her what might be the meaning of the designs on her robe, strongly -suspecting there lay beneath some hidden signification unfavourable to -him. She made answer in these words, “Sir, I have had my robe fashioned -thus, just as soldiers and horsemen do with their horses when they are -wild and vicious, and kick and fling out their heels. For they do fix -on their crupper a big silver bell, to the end that this signal may -warn their comrades, when they are riding in a close press of company, -to take heed of the vicious kicker, lest he do them an injury. In like -wise by my fluttering butterflies, burning themselves in these torches, -I do warn those honourable gentlemen which do me the favour of loving -me and admiring my beauty, not to come too nigh, nor to desire aught -else, but only the sight of me. For they will gain nothing thereby, but -only like the butterflies,—to long, and burn, and get no satisfaction.” - -The story is writ in the _Emblems_ of Paulus Jovius.[69] In this -fashion did she warn her lover to take heed for himself in time. I know -not whether or no he did come more nigh, or what he did. But later, -being wounded to the death at the battle of Pavia, and taken prisoner, -he begged to be carried to the house of this same Countess at Pavia, -where he was very well received and tended by her. In three days’ time -he died there, to the great sorrow of the lady, as I did hear the story -told me by M. de Monluc, one time we were together in the trenches at -Rochelle. It was night and we were talking together, when I related to -him the tale of the robe and its device; on this he assured me he had -seen the said Countess, who was very fair, and did love the Maréchal -well, and how he had been most honourably entreated of her. For the -rest he knew not if ever they had gone further at all. This example -should be warning enough for many of the ladies the which I have spoken -of above. - -Then again, there be cuckolds which are so righteous they have their -wives preached to and admonished by good and religious men, with a view -to their conversion and reform. And these, with forced tears and words -of pretended sorrow, do make many vows, promising mountains and marvels -of repentance, and never, never to do the like again. But their oaths -do scarce endure an instant, for truly the vows and tears of suchlike -dames are of just so much weight as are the oaths and adjurations of -lovers. So have I seen and known well a certain lady to the which a -great Prince, her Sovereign, did offer the affront of commissioning -appointing a Cordelier monk, as from himself and coming from the Court, -to go find her husband, who was spending his vacation on his estate, to -warn the same of his wife’s reckless loves and the ill report current -of the wrong she was doing him, and to say how, for the respect due -to his position and office, he was sending him timely news thereof, -to the end he might correct this sinful soul. The husband was greatly -astounded and moved at such a message and kindly warning; yet did take -no overt action, except only to thank his Prince and assure him he -would see to the matter. Yet on his return he did make no difference -for the worse in his treatment of his wife; for truly what would he -have gained thereby? Once a woman hath taken to these courses, naught -will alter her, like a posthorse which is grown so thoroughly used to -go at the gallop that he can in no wise learn to go any other gait -whatsoever. - -Alas! how oft have we seen honourable ladies which, having been -surprised at these tricks, and thereupon chid and beaten, yea! and -admonished by every prayer and remonstrance not to return to the like -course, do promise, protest and swear they will behave them chastely, -yet do presently illustrate the proverb, _passato il periglio, gabbato -il santo_ (the danger past, the Saint is mocked), and return again with -all the more zest to the game of love. Nay! many have we seen, which -themselves feeling some worm of remorse gnawing their soul, have of -their proper act made holy and right solemn vows of reformation, yet -have never kept them, but presently have repented of their repentance, -as M. du Bellay doth say of penitent courtesans:[70] - - Mère d’amour, suivant mes premiers vœux, - Dessous tes lois remettre je me veux, - Dont je voudrois n’estre jamais sortie; - Et me repens de m’estre repentie. - - (Mother of love, returning to my earlier vows, I am fain to put me - again beneath thy laws, which I would I had never deserted; lo! I - repent me of my penitence.) - -Such women declare ’tis exceeding hard to give up forever so sweet a -habit and fond custom, seeing their time is so short in this brief -sojourn they make in this world. - -To confirm what I here say I would readily appeal to many a fair maid, -which hath repented in youth and taken the veil and become a nun. If -such were asked on her faith and conscience what she did really desire, -many a time, I know, she would say, “Ah! would the high convent walls -were broken down, that I might straight be free again!” - -Wherefore husbands need never think to reduce their wives to order -again, after once these have made the first breach in their honour, -or that they can aught else but only give them the rein, merely -recommending discretion and all possible avoidance of scandal. For -truly we may apply all the remedies of love which ever Ovid taught, and -an host of other subtle remedies that others have invented, yea! and -those puissant ones of François Rabelais,[70] which he did teach to the -venerable Panurge, yet will none of them all avail. But ’twere best of -all to follow the advice given in the refrain of an old song of King -Francis’ time, which saith, - - Qui voudroit garder qu’une femme - N’aille du tout à l’abandon, - Il faudroit la fermer dans une pipe, - Et en jouir par le bondon. - - (If a man would make sure of his wife never going to the bad at - all, he had best shut her up in a cask, and enjoy her through the - bung-hole.) - -In the reign of the late King Henri of France there was a certain -jeweller which did import and expose for sale at the great Fair of St. -Germains a round dozen of a certain contrivance for confining women’s -affairs.[71] These were made of iron and were worn like a belt, joining -underneath and locking with a key, and were so cunningly framed that -the woman, once confined therein, could never find opportunity for the -pleasures of love, there being only a few little tiny holes in the -thing for _empissoyent_ through. - -’Tis said that five or six jealous husbands were found ready to buy -one, wherewith they did confine their wives in such wise they might -well say, “Good-bye, good times for ever and aye!” Yet was there one -wife who bethought her to apply to a locksmith very cunning in his art. -So, when she had shown him the said contrivance, her husband being -away in the country, he did so well use his ingenuity that he forged -a false key therefor, so that the good lady could open and shut the -thing at any time, whenever she would. The husband did never suspect or -say a word, while the wife took her fill of the best of all pleasures, -in spite of the jealous fool and silly cuckold her husband, who did -imagine all the time he was living free of all apprehension of such a -fate. But truly the naughty locksmith, which made the false key, quite -spoiled his game; yea! and did even better, by what they say, for he -was the first who tasted the dainty, and cuckolded him. Nor was this -so extraordinary, for did not Venus, which was the fairest woman and -harlot in all the world, mate with Vulcan, ironworker and locksmith, -the which was exceeding mean-looking, foul, lame and hideous. - -They say, moreover, that there were a number of gallant and honourable -gentlemen of the Court which did threaten the jeweller that if ever -again he should have aught to do with bringing such villainies with -him, he would be killed. They bade him never come back again, and made -him throw all the others that were left into the draught-house; and -since then no more has been heard of such contrivances. And this was -wisely done; for truly ’twas as good, or as bad, as destroying one half -of mankind, so to hinder the engendering of posterity by dint of such -confining, locking up and imprisoning of nature,—an abominable and -hateful wrong to human productiveness. - -Some there be which do give their wives into the hands of eunuchs to -guard their honour, a thing which the Emperor Alexander Severus did -strongly reprobate, harshly bidding them never have dealings with Roman -ladies.[72*] But they were soon recalled again. Not indeed that these -could ever beget children or the women conceive of them; yet can they -afford some slight feeling and superficial taste of minor pleasures, -giving some colourable imitation of the complete and perfect bliss. Of -this many husbands do take very little account, declaring that their -main grievance in the adultery of their wives had naught at all to do -with what they got given them, but that it vexed them sore to have -to rear and bring up and recognise as heirs children they had never -begotten. - -Indeed but for this, there is nothing they would have made less ado -about. Thus have I known not a few husbands, who when they did find the -lovers, who had made their wives children, to be easy and good-natured, -and ready to give freely and keep them, took no more account of the -thing at all, or even advised their wives to beg of them and crave some -allowance to keep the little one they had had of them. - -So have I heard tell of a great lady, which was the mother of -Villeconnin,[73*] natural son of Francis I. The same did beseech the -King to give or assign her some little property, before he died, for -the child he had begot,—and this he did. He made over for this end -two hundred thousand crowns in bank, which did profit him well and -ran on ever growing, what with interest and re-investment, in such -wise that it became a great sum and he did spend money with such -magnificence and seemed in such good case and ample funds at Court that -all were astonished thereat. And all thought he enjoyed the favours -of some mysterious lady. None believed her his mother, but, seeing he -never went about without her, it was universally supposed the great -expenditure he made did come from his connexion with her. Yet it -was not so at all, for she was really his mother; though few people -were ware of it. Nor was anything known for sure of his lineage or -birth, except that he eventually died at Constantinople, and that his -inheritance as King’s bastard was given to the Maréchal de Retz, who -was keen and cunning enough to have discovered this little secret which -he was able to turn to his profit, and did verify the bastardy which -had been so long hid. Thus he did win the gift of this inheritance -over the head of M. de Teligny, who had been constituted heir of the -aforesaid Villeconnin. - -Other folk, however, declared that the said lady had had the child by -another than the King, and had so enriched him out of her own fortune. -But M. de Retz did scrutinize and search among the banks so carefully -that he did find the money and the original securities of King Francis. -For all this some still held the child to have been the son of another -Prince not so high as the King, or some one else of inferior rank, -maintaining that for the purpose of covering up and concealing the -whole thing and yet providing the child a maintenance, ’twas no bad -device to lay it all to his Majesty’s account, as indeed hath been done -in other instances. - -This much I do firmly believe, that there be many women in the world, -nay! even in France, which if only they thought they could bring -children into existence at this rate, would right readily suffer Kings -and great Princes to mount on their bellies. But in very fact they -ofttimes so mount without any grand regale following. Then are the -poor ladies sore deceived and disappointed, for when they do consent -to give themselves to suchlike great personages, ’tis only to have the -_galardon_ (guerdon, recompense), as folk say in Spanish. - -Now as to such putative and doubtful children, a question doth arise -open to much dispute, to wit whether they ought to succeed to their -father’s and mother’s goods, some maintaining ’tis a great sin for -women to make them so succeed. Some authorities have declared the -woman should surely reveal the thing to the husband and tell him the -whole truth, and this is the opinion held by the well-known “Subtle -Doctor.”[74*] Others on the contrary hold this opinion to be bad, -because the woman would then be defaming herself by revealing it, and -this she is in no wise bound to do; for good repute is a more precious -possession than riches, saith Solomon. - -’Tis better then for the goods to be taken, even unjustly, by the child -than that the mother’s good name be lost, for as a proverb hath it, “A -good name is better than a golden girdle.” Now the Theologians hold a -maxim to the effect that when two opposite precepts and commands are -binding on us, the less must give way to the greater. But the command -to guard one’s repute is greater and more stringent than that which -orders to restore another’s goods; and so must be preferred before it. - -Nay! more, if the wife do reveal this to her husband, she doth thereby -put herself in danger of being actually killed at his hands; but it is -straitly forbid for any to compass their own death. - - - 12. - -Neither is it allowed a woman to kill herself for dread of being -violated, or after being so; else would she be doing a mortal sin. -Wherefore is it better for her to suffer herself to be ravished, if -that she can in no wise by fight or crying out avoid the same, than to -kill herself. For the violation of the body is not sin, except with the -consent of the will. Hence the reply which Saint Lucy did make to the -tyrant who threatened to have her taken to the brothel. “If you have -me forced,” she said, “why! my chastity will receive a double crown.” - -For this cause Lucretia hath been found to blame by some. True it is -Saint Sabina and Saint Sophronia, along with other Christian virgins, -who did take their own lives rather than fall into the hands of -barbarians, are excused by our doctors and fathers of the Church, -which say they did so by special prompting of the Holy Spirit.[75*] By -this same prompting, after the taking of Cyprus, a certain Cypriote -damsel, lately made Christian, seeing herself being carried off as a -slave with many another lady of her sort, to be the prey of Turks, did -secretly fire the powder magazine in the galley, so that in an instant -all was burned up and consumed along with her, saying, “So please God, -our bodies will never be polluted and ravished by these foul Turks and -Saracens!” Or ’tis possible, God knows, it had already been polluted -and she was fain to do penance therefor,—unless indeed the fact was her -master had refrained from touching her, to the end he might make more -money by selling her a maid, seeing men are desirous in those lands, as -indeed in all other lands, to taste a fresh and untainted morsel. - -However, to return to the noble custodians of these poor women,—the -eunuchs. These, as I have said, are not utterly unable to do adultery -with them and make their husbands cuckold, excepting always the -engendering of children. - -I knew two women in France which did deliberately set their love on -two gentlemen who were castrate, to the end they might not become with -child; yet did they find pleasure therein, and free from all fear -of scandal. But there have been husbands in Turkey and Barbary so -jealous, that having discovered this deceit, they have determined to -castrate their wretched slaves altogether and entirely, and cut the -whole concern clean off. Now, by what those say who have had experience -of Turkey, not two out of the dozen escape of those on whom they do -practise this cruelty, and do not die therefrom. Them that do survive, -they do cherish and make much of, as true, certain and chaste guardians -of their wives’ chastity and sure guarantors of their honour. - -We Christians on our part do not practise suchlike abominable and too -utterly horrible cruelties; but instead of these castrated slaves, we -give our women old men of sixty for guardians. This for instance is -done in Spain, even at the Court of the Queens of that country, where I -have seen them as custodians of the maids of honour and Court ladies. -Yet, God knows, there be old men more dangerous for ruining maids and -wives than any young ones, and an hundred times more hot, ingenious and -persevering to gain over and corrupt the same. - -I do not believe such men, for all they be hoary headed and white -bearded, are more sure guardians at all than younger men, nor old women -neither. Thus an aged Spanish duenna once, taking out her maids and -passing by a great hall and seeing men’s members painted up on the wall -in lifelike portrayal, only exaggerated and out of all proportion, did -remark, _Mira que tan bravos no los pintan estos hombres, como quien -no los conociese_ (Look how brave men those be, and how ill they have -painted them, like one who has never seen the things). Then all her -maids did turn toward her, and noted what she said, except one, of my -acquaintance, who acting the _ingénue_, did ask one of her companions -what birds those were; for some of them were depicted with wings. And -the other made answer, they were birds of Barbary, more beautiful in -reality than even as depicted. God only knows if she had ever seen any -such; but she had to make what pretence she could. - -Many husbands are sore deceived, and often, in their duennas. For they -think, provided only their womenkind are in the charge of some old -woman, whom both parties do call mother as a title of respect, that -they must needs be well safeguarded in front. Yet none are more easy -than such guardians to be bribed and won over; for being as they are, -avaricious of their very nature, they are ready to take gold from any -quarter to sell their prisoners. - -Others again cannot be forever on the watch over their young charges, -who themselves are always wide awake and on the alert, especially when -they be in love; for truly most of their time the old dames will be -asleep in the chimney-corner, while before their very face the husbands -will be a-cuckolding, without their heeding or knowing aught about it. - -I knew once a lady which did it before her duenna’s very eyes, in such -cunning wise she never perceived anything wrong. Another did the like -in her own husband’s presence and all but under his eyes, the while he -was playing at primero. - -Then other aged dames will be feeble of foot, and cannot follow up -their ladies at a round pace, so that by the time they do reach the -extremity of a walk or a wood or a room, the young ones have whipped -their little present into their pocket, without the old duenna having -observed what was a-doing, or seen aught whatever, being slow of foot -and dim of sight. Again there be yet other dames of the sort which, -themselves having plied the trade of old, do think it pity to see the -young fast, and are so good-natured to them, they will of their own -accord open the way for their charges, yea! and provoke them to follow -in the same, and help them all they can. Thus Aretino saith how the -greatest of pleasures for a woman that hath travelled that road, and -her highest satisfaction, is ever to make another do likewise. - -And this is why, when a man doth crave the aid of a good minister for -his amours, he will alway apply and address himself to an old procuress -rather than to a young woman. So I do remember a certain very gallant -gentleman, which did mislike sorely, and did forbid it expressly, that -his wife should ever frequent the company of old women, as being much -too dangerous society,—but with younger women she might go as much -as she pleased. And for this course he would adduce many excellent -reasons, the which I will leave to men of apter discourse than I to -detail in full. - -And this is why a certain Lord of the great world I know of did entrust -his wife, of whom he was very jealous, to a lady, a cousin of his own, -but unmarried, to be her _surveillante_. This office she did zealously -perform, albeit for her own part she did copy the half only of the -character of the gardener’s dog, seeing he doth never eat the cabbage -out of his master’s garden, nor yet will suffer other to do so; but -this lady would eat readily enough, but would never suffer her cousin. -Yet was the other forever filching some dainty bit, without her noting -it, cunning as she was,—or mayhap she did but make pretence not to see. - -I could right easily adduce an host of devices which poor jealous -cuckolds do employ to confine, constrain, curb and keep in their wives, -that they kick not over the traces. But it is of mighty little use for -them either to try these ancient means they have heard tell of, or to -invent new ones; they but lose their labour. For once women have gotten -this naughty worm of love in their heads, they will ever be sending -their poor husbands to keep house with Guillot the Pensive.[76*] And -hereof do I hope to discourse further in a chapter I have already half -writ, on the ruses and stratagems of women in this matter, the which I -do compare with the ambuscades and stratagems of soldiers in war. But -the finest device of all, the most sure and eke the kindest preventive -a jealous husband can apply to his wife, is ever to let her go her way -in full liberty, as I have heard a very gallant married man declare, -for that it is the woman’s nature the more she is forbid a thing, so -much the more to long for the same; and this is especially true in -love, where the appetite doth grow far hotter by forbidding than by -letting things take their course. - -Then is there another sort of cuckolds, as to whom doth arise the -following question, to wit,—whether if a man hath had full enjoyment -of a woman during the lifetime of her cuckold husband, and this latter -die, and the lover do afterward marry the widow in second nuptials, -he ought to wear the name and title of cuckold,—a case I have heard -debated in regard to several, and these great men. - -Some there be do say he cannot be cuckold, because it is himself did -have the doing of it, and no one else did make him so but only himself, -and the horns were made by him and no other. Yet are there many -armourers that do make swords whereby themselves are killed, or do kill -each other. - -Others again say he is really cuckold, but only _in embryo_. For this -they do allege many reasons, but seeing the process is yet undecided, -I leave it to be pleaded before the first audience that will listen to -the case. - -The same may be said concerning a very great lady, and a married one, -which did break her marriage vow fourteen years agone with the lover -who doth keep to her still, and since that day hath been ever awaiting -and longing for her husband’s death. But the devil is in it if he hath -ever yet contrived to die to meet her wishes! So that she might well -say, “Cursed be the husband and mate, which hath lived longer than I -desired!” Sicknesses and calamities of body he hath had galore, but -never fatal. In fact our King, the last Henri, having bestowed the -inheritance in the fine and rich estate the said cuckold husband had of -him on a very honourable and brave gentleman, would ofttimes say, “Two -persons there be at my Court which are thinking it long till so and so -die, one for his estate’s sake and the other to wed her lover. But both -one and the other have been sore deluded up to now.” - -See how wise and foreseeing God is, not to send folk what they wish, -when it is evil. However, I have been told that for some while past -this pair are in ill accord, and have now burned their promise of -future marriage and broke the agreement,—to the huge despite of the -lady and joy of the prospective husband, seeing he did in no wise -desire to go on longer and wait forever for the death of the other. -This last was alway making a mock of folk, continually giving alarms, -as that he was just about to die; yet in the end he hath survived his -would-be supplanter. An instance surely of God’s punishment, for a -marriage so made is a thing all but unheard of; and indeed ’tis a great -sin, and an odious, to contract and agree upon a second marriage, the -first being still existent in its entirety. - -I had rather have one, also a great lady, albeit not so great as the -other I have just spoke of, who being sought of a nobleman in marriage, -did wed him, not for the love she bare him, but because she saw him -sickly, thin and worn, and in constant ill-health, and as the doctors -told her he would not outlive the year, even after having known this -fair lady several times abed. Wherefore she did expect his death very -soon, and did make all dispositions after his demise as to his goods -and property, fine plenishing and great wealth, which he did bring her -by marriage; for he was a nobleman of much riches and very well-to-do. -But she was finely cheated; for he liveth still a sturdy wight, and in -better fettle an hundred times than before he married her; since then -the lady herself is dead. They say the aforesaid nobleman was used -to feign to be sickly and ailing to the end that, knowing as he did -the lady to be exceeding avaricious, she might wed him in the hope of -getting so rich an inheritance. Yet did God above dispose it all quite -contrariwise, and made the she-goat feed where she had been tied, in -spite of herself. - -Now what shall we say of such men as do wed with harlots and -courtesans, that are very famous, as is commonly done in France, but -still more in Spain and Italy, where men are persuaded they are winning -God’s mercy for good deeds, _por librar un’ anima christiana del -infierno_,—“for delivering a Christian soul from hell,” as they say, -and setting it in the right way. - -I have undoubtedly seen some men maintain this opinion and doctrine, -that if they did marry them for this good and religious object, they -ought in no wise to be ranked as cuckolds. For surely what is done -for the honour of God should not be made a matter of shame. This, of -course, provided that their wives, once started afresh in the right -way, do not leave it again and return to the other. So have I seen some -of these women in the two countries named which did sin no more after -being married, but others that could never reform, and went back to -trip and stumble in the old ditch. - -The first time ever I was in Italy, I fell in love with a very -beautiful courtesan of Rome, who was called Faustina. But seeing I had -no great wealth, and she was of a very high price, from ten to twelve -crowns a night, I was constrained to content me with words and looks -only. After some time I paid a second visit to the same city, and being -now better furnished with money, I went to visit her at her lodging by -the introduction of another lady, and did find her married to a man of -the law, though still established in her old quarters. She did welcome -me affectionately, and recounted me the good fortune of her marriage, -repudiating altogether the follies of her previous life, to the which -she had said farewell forever. I did then show her an handful of good -French crowns, for indeed I was dying of love for her worse than ever. -She was tempted at the sight and did grant me that I longed for, saying -how in concluding marriage, she had claimed and agreed with her husband -for her entire liberty,—without scandal, however, or concealment, and -only at the price of a large sum,—to the end the pair of them might -live in affluence. She was therefore to be had only by wealthy men; and -to them he would yield very willingly, but not to petty customers at -all. Truly here was a husband cuckold out and out, in bud and blossom -too. - -I have heard speak of a lady of the great world who, in concluding -marriage, did desire and stipulate that her husband should leave her at -Court to follow the pursuit of love, reserving herself alway the use -of her forest of dead-wood or common faggot at her own good pleasure. -However, in return, she was to give him every month a thousand francs -for his little indulgences of every day. In fact the one thought was to -have a merry life of it. - -Thus it is, such women as have been free, cannot easily refrain, but -will e’en burst the strait bars of the doors imprisoning them, however -strong these be and well guarded, wherever gold doth clink and glitter. -Witness the beauteous daughter of King Acrisius (Danaë), who all -confined and imprisoned in her great tower as she was, yet did feel -the persuasive drops of Jupiter’s fair rain of gold, and admit the -same.[77*] - -Ah! how hard it is, a gallant gentleman of my acquaintance used to say, -to safeguard a woman which is fair, ambitious, greedy and covetous of -being bravely attired, and richly dressed, gaily decked out and well -appointed, so that she lay not _cul en terre_,—no matter how well -armed, as they say, her fort be, and however brave and valiant a man -her husband be, and albeit he doth carry a good sword to defend her -withal. - -I have known so many of these same brave and valiant folk which have -all gone this road. And truly ’tis great pity to see these honourable -and brave men come to this, and that, after so many gallant victories -won by them, so many notable conquests over their enemies and noble -combats decided by their valour, they should yet be forced to carry -horns intermingled among the fair flowers and leaves of the crowns of -triumph they wear,—horns which do altogether spoil the effect thereof. -Yet do they think far more of their high ambitions and noble combats, -their honourable emprises and valiant exploits, than of safeguarding -their wives and throwing light on their dark places. And this is how, -without more ado, they do come to the city of Cuckoldland and the -conquest of the same. Yet is it a sore pity. For instance, I once knew -a very brave and valiant gentleman, bearing a very high name and title, -who was one day proudly telling over his valiant deeds and conquests, -when a very honourable and noble gentleman, his comrade and friend, who -was present, did say, “Yes! there he is telling us of all his wonderful -conquests; but truly to master his own wife’s affair is the greatest of -all he hath ever won, or ever will!”[78*] - -Many others have I known, who no matter what grace, majesty and proud -carriage they might show, yet did every one display that look of the -cuckold which doth spoil all the rest. For truly this look and defect -cannot ever be hid or dissembled; no confidence of bearing and gesture -whatsoever can hinder its being known and evidently noted. And for -myself, never have I seen any one of these folk in all my life but -did have their own distinctive marks, gestures, postures, looks and -defects,—excepting only one I knew once, in whom the most keen-sighted -could have found naught to observe or take hold of, without knowing his -wife as well; such an easy grace, pleasant manners, and honourable, -dignified deportment were his. - -I would earnestly beg ladies which have husbands so perfect not to play -them such tricks and put such affronts on them. But then they might in -their turn retort upon me, “Nay! tell us where are to be found these -perfect husbands, such as was the man whose example you have just -quoted to us?” - -Verily, ladies, you are right; for that all men cannot be Scipios -and Cæsars. I hold, therefore, that herein ye must e’en follow your -fancies. For indeed, speaking of the Cæsars, the most gallant of -mankind have all gone this road, and the most virtuous and perfect, -as I have said above and as we do read of that enlightened Emperor -Trajan,[79] whose perfections, however, could not hinder his wife -Plotina from yielding herself up entirely to the good pleasure of -Hadrian, which was Emperor afterward. From her did this last win great -advantages, profits and aggrandisement, so much so that she was the -chief cause of his advancement. Nor was he in any wise ungrateful, -after he had come to greatness, for he did love her and ever honour -her right well. And after her death he did make such mourning and felt -such sadness that at the last he did altogether lose all wish to eat -and drink for a while, and was forced to tarry in Narbonese Gaul, where -he had heard the sad tidings, three or four months, during which time -he writ to the Senate ordering them to stablish Plotina in the number -of the Goddesses, and did command that at her funeral sacrifices, -exceeding rich and sumptuous, should be offered. Meantime he did employ -his leisure in building and raising up, to her honour and memory, a -very beautiful temple near Nemausus, now called Nimes, adorned with -most fair and rich marbles and porphyries, with other gawds. - -See then how in matters of love and its satisfaction, naught at all can -be laid down for certain. For truly Cupid the God thereof is blind, as -doth clearly appear in sundry women, which having husbands as handsome -and honourable and accomplished as can anywhere be seen, yet do fall in -love with other men as ill-favoured and foul as mortals may be. - -I have seen many cases that did force one to ask this question: Which -is the more whorish dame, she that hath a right handsome and honourable -husband, yet taketh an ill-favoured lover, one that is evil-tempered -and quite unlike her husband; or she which hath an ill-favoured and -ill-conditioned husband, and doth take a handsome, agreeable lover, and -yet ceaseth not to love and fondly caress her husband, as if he were -the prince of men for beauty,—as myself have seen many a woman do? - -Of a surety the common voice doth declare that she which, having an -handsome husband, yet doth leave the same to love an ill-favoured -lover is a very great whore,—just as a person is surely a foul glutton -which doth quit good food to eat of bad. So when a woman doth quit -an handsome piece to take up with an ill-favoured, it hath all the -semblance of her doing this out of sheer lecherousness, seeing there is -naught more licentious and more fitted to satisfy licentiousness than -an ugly man, with a savour more after the fashion of a stinking, filthy -and lascivious goat than of a proper man. And in very deed handsome -and honourable men are something more delicate and less apt to satiate -an excessive and unbridled wantonness than is a coarse, bearded, lewd -fellow, some big ramping countrified satyr. - -Others maintain that the woman which doth love a handsome lover and -an ill-favoured husband, and doth caress them both, is at the least -as great a whore as the other, for that she is fain to lose naught -whatever of her ordinary diet and sustenance. - -Such women are like them that travel in foreign lands, yea! and in -France to boot, which being arrived at night at the inn to supper, do -never forget to claim of mine host the wheeler’s measure. Yea! and the -fellow must needs have it too, albeit he should be full of good liquor -to the throat already. - -So will these dames, when night comes, never be without their -“wheeler’s measure,”—as was the way with one I knew well, who yet had -a husband that was a right good performer. Natheless are they fain to -increase and redouble their pleasure by any means they may, liking -to have the lover for the day, which doth show up his beauty and so -make the lady more eager for the fray, and give her more delight and -satisfaction by reason of the good daylight. But the worthy husband -with his ill-favoured face is kept for nighttime; for truly, as they -say all cats are grey at night, and provided the lady have satisfaction -of her appetites, she recks naught whether her mate is ill or well -favoured. - -Indeed, as I learn from sundry, when one is in these ecstasies of -amorous pleasure, neither man nor woman reck aught of any other thing -or thought whatever, but only what they are at for the instant; albeit -on the other hand I have it on good authority how many dames have -persuaded their lovers that, when they were at it with their husbands, -they would ever give their thoughts to their lovers, and not reck at -all of their husbands, in order to get the greater pleasure therefrom. -So likewise have I heard husbands declare that when with their wives, -they would be alway thinking of their mistresses with the like object. -But these be disagreeable subjects! - -Natural philosophers have told me that none but the present object -of passion can possibly dominate them at this crisis, and in no wise -the absent; and give many reasons for their opinion. However I am not -philosopher enough nor sufficiently learned to contradict them; and -besides sundry of their reasons are filthy ones, and I would fain ever -preserve decency. But for these predilections for all-favoured loves, I -have seen many such in my day that have astonished me an hundred times -over. - -Returning once from a journey in a foreign land,—I will not give the -name, for fear men should recognise whereof I speak,—and discoursing -with a noble lady of the great world, I chanced to speak of another -great lady and Princess, the which I had seen in those parts; whereupon -she did ask me as to this latter’s love affairs. So I told her the name -of the personage whom she held favourite, one that was neither handsome -nor of graceful presence, and of very low degree. Her reply was, -“Verily she doth herself great wrong, and eke plays love a sorry trick, -seeing she is so fair and honourable a lady, as all men hold.”[80*] - -And the said lady was surely right in the language she held, for that -herself did act accordingly, and gainsaid not her opinions. For she -had a worthy and honourable lover, whom she cherished right well. And -when all is said, a fair lady will be doing no harm in loving, if -only she will choose a worthy object of her love, nor wronging her -husband neither,—if for no other reason, at least for the sake of their -descendants. This, seeing there be husbands that are so ill-favoured, -so stupid, senseless and silly, so graceless and cowardly, so poor -spirited and good for naught, that their wives, having children of them -and like them, might as well have none at all. And indeed myself have -known many ladies, which have borne children to suchlike husbands, and -these have been all of them just like their fathers; yet afterward, -when they have e’en borrowed one or two from their lovers, these have -surpassed their supposed fathers, their brothers and sisters in all -things whatsoever. - -Some, moreover, among philosophers which have treated of this matter, -have always maintained how that children thus borrowed by stealth, or -stolen, if you will, thus engendered under the rose, and on the spur -of the moment, are ever far more gallant, and recall more the merry -fashion wherein they are used to be created, nimbly and cleverly, than -such as are begot in bed, heavily, dully, ponderously, at leisure, -their parents more than half asleep the while, giving never a thought -but of brutish satisfaction to the pleasure in hand. - -In like wise have I heard them that have charge of the stud-farms of -kings and great lords say how they have many a time seen better foals -got stealthily by their dams than others bred with every precaution -by the masters of the stud, and from stallions specially chosen and -assigned thereto. And so it is with human beings. - -How many cases have I seen where ladies have borne handsomer and braver -and more excellent children than they would have done, if the putative -fathers had really begotten them,—mere calves and brute beasts as they -would then have been. - -A good reason why women are well advised to seek the help and commodity -of good and handsome stallions, to the end they may produce good -offspring. Yet I have seen on the other hand some which had handsome -husbands, but did nevertheless call in the aid of ill-favoured -lovers and base stallions, which did beget ugly and evil-conditioned -descendants. - -This indeed is one of the most signal commodities and incommodities of -the state of cuckoldry. - -I once knew a great lady of society which had an exceeding ill-favoured -and ill-bred husband; and of four girls and two boys she had, there -were only two good for aught, being children of her lover, while the -others, coming of her scrub of a husband,—I had all but said her -screech-owl of a husband, for truly he had all the look of one,—were -but poor misbegotten creatures. - -Now herein doth it behoove ladies to be very well advised and cunning -withal, for as a rule children do resemble their fathers, and whenas -they do not so, bring grave suspicion on their mothers’ honour. So have -I seen in my life many fair ladies possessed of this craze, to have it -said and thought of all the world that their children do altogether -resemble their father and not themselves, though really they are not -the least like them. For to say so is the greatest pleasure one can do -them, seeing there is then presumption they have not borrowed them from -any other, however opposite the truth may really be. - -One time I was present at a great assemblage of the Court, whereat folk -were discussing the portraits of two daughters of a certain very great -Queen. Each stated his opinion as to whom they did resemble, in such -wise that all, men and women, declared they took altogether after the -mother. But I, being a most humble servant and admirer of the mother, -did hold the other side, and maintained stoutly they took entirely -after the father, and that if only they had known and seen the same -as intimately as I had, they would grant me it was so. Whereupon the -Queen’s sister did thank me for my words, and was exceeding grateful to -me, seeing there were sundry persons, which did say what they did, of -set purpose, to raise suspicion of her going astray in love,—the more -that there _was_ something of dust in her flute, as the saying is. Thus -did my judgement as to the children’s likeness to their father put all -right again. Wherefore in this matter, whosoever shall love a lady and -shall be looking upon children of her blood and bone, let him alway -declare these do take after the father altogether, whether it be so or -no.[81*] - -True they will do no hurt, if they maintain the children take a little -after the mother, as was said by a gentleman of the Court, a chief -friend of mine, speaking in company of two gentlemen, brothers and high -favourites with the King. Being asked which they were like, the father -or mother, he did make answer that the one which was cold was like the -father, and the other, which was hot, the mother. By this quip giving a -pretty stroke at the mother, who was of a somewhat hot complexion. And -as a matter of fact these two children did partake of these two several -humours, the hot and the cold. - -There is yet another sort of cuckolds, they which are made such by -reason of the scorn they show their wives. Thus I have known several -who, though having fair and honourable dames to wife, did take no -account of them, but would ever scorn and disdain them. These being -sharp of wit and full of spirit, and of good family to boot, seeing -themselves so disdained, did proceed to pay them back in their own -coin. Quick was there fine love making, and quick the accomplishment of -the same; for as saith the Italian and Neapolitan catch, _amor non si -vince con altro che con sdegno_—“love is mastered by scorn, and scorn -only.” - -For so a fair and honourable lady, and one that doth know herself -such and taketh pride therein, seeing her husband treating her with -mere disdain, though she should bear him the fondest wifely love in -the world, and albeit they should preach and put before her all the -commands of the law to love and honour him, yet if she have the least -spark of spirit, will she leave him in the lurch and take a lover -elsewhere to help her in her little needs, and choose her out some -private pleasure of her own. - -I knew once two ladies of the Court, that were sisters-in-law. Of these -the one had married an husband which was high in favour, a courtier -and an adroit one.[82*] Yet did he not make such account of his wife -as it behooved, seeing the birth she was of, but would speak to her -before company as she were a mere savage, and treat her very roughly. -This behaviour she did endure patiently for a while, till at length the -husband did fall something out of favour. Then noting her opportunity -and taking it cleverly as it came, having indeed waited for a good one, -she straightway paid him back the scorn he had put on her, lightly -and gaily making the poor man cuckold. And her sister did likewise, -following her example. This last had been wed when very young and of -tender years, so that her husband took no great heed of her, deeming -her a mere chit and child, and did not love her as he should. But she -coming to a riper time of life, and finding out she had a heart and was -fair to look on, did soon pay him back in his own coin, and so made -him a present of a fine pair of horns by way of interest on his past -neglect. - -Another time I knew a great Lord, which having taken two courtesans -into favour, whereof one was a Moorish woman, to be his delight and -joy of heart, did make no account of his wife, albeit she did seek to -him with all due respect, and all the wifely love and reverence ever -she could. Yet could he never look upon her with a favourable eye, or -cherish her with a good grace, and of an hundred nights he would hardly -bestow twain on her. What must she do then, the poor girl, after so -many indignities, but what she did,—choose another vacant bed, and -couple with another better half, and so take that she was fain of?[83*] - -At least she had been justified, if the husband had been like another -I know of, who was of a like humour, and being pressed by his wife, a -very fair lady and one that did take her joy elsewhere than at home, -did tell her frankly: “Well! well! take your pleasures abroad; I -give you full leave. Do on your part what you please with another; I -leave you in perfect liberty. Only make no trouble about my amours, -and suffer me to do as I like. I will never hinder your pleasures and -satisfaction; so do not you hinder mine.” So, each independent of the -other, the twain did go forth on their merry way, one to right, the -other to left, without a thought or care for one another; a good and -happy life truly! - -No less should I commend a certain old man I knew once, who being -impotent, sickly and gouty, did say thus one fine day to his wife, who -was very fair, seeing clearly he could not satisfy her as she was fain -to be dealt with: “I know right well, my pretty, how that my impotence -accords ill with your heartsome years. This may well make me odious -to you, and render it impossible to you to be my loving wife, as if I -could to you the regular offices a strong, robust husband should. So I -have thought good to suffer you and grant you full freedom to love some -other, and borrow one that may satisfy you better than I can. But above -all, I pray you choose out one that is discreet and modest, and will in -no wise bring scandal on you, nor on me neither. And may he make you a -pair of fine lads, the which I will love and rear as my own, in such -wise that all men shall think them our own true and lawful offspring. -And this is the more possible, seeing I have still in me some show of -vigour and strength, and appearance enough of bodily manhood to make -folk suppose them mine.” - -I leave you to suppose whether the fair girl was glad to receive this -agreeable little homily, and free leave to enjoy such pleasing liberty. -This she did turn to such good account that in a twinkling she did -people the house with two or three fine infants, wherein the husband, -inasmuch as he did touch her at times and sleep with her, might deem he -had some share, and did actually think so, and the neighbours and every -one. In such wise were both husband and wife well pleased, and had good -progeny, to boot. - -Here again is another sort of cuckolds, they which are made so by -reason of an amiable opinion certain women hold, to wit that there is -no thing nobler and more lawful and more commendable than Charity. And -by Charity they say they mean not merely giving to the poor who have -need of succour and assistance from the wealth and abundance of the -rich, but likewise helping to assuage the flames of poor languishing -lovers that one sees consuming with the fire of an ardent passion. “For -of a truth,” they declare, “what can be more charitable than to restore -life to one we see dying, and to quite refresh again the man thus -consuming away?” So says that brave Paladin, the Seigneur de Montauban, -upholding the fair Genevra in Ariosto, who doth maintain that of rights -the woman should die, which robs her lover of life, and not she who -gives it him.[84*] - -This did he say of a maid, and if it be true of a maid, then much more -are suchlike deeds of Charity commendable in wives even more than in -maids, seeing these have not their purses untied and open yet like -married women,—the which, or at any rate some among them, have these -same exceeding ample and well adapted to enlarge their charities! - -Which doth remind me of a tale of a very fair lady of the Court, -who did attire herself for a Candlemas-tide all in a dress of white -damask, with all else white to match, so that naught that day did look -fairer or more white. Then did the lady’s lover win over one of her -companions, which likewise was a very fair lady, but somewhat older and -better skilled in speech, and well fitted to intercede for him. So, -whenas they all three were looking at a very fine picture, wherein was -depicted Charity clad all in white with a white veil, this last did say -to her friend: “You do wear this day the same dress as Charity here; -but seeing you do resemble her in attire, you should be like her too -as concerneth your lover, there being no other thing more commendable -than good pity and sweet charity, in whatsoever way it be showed -forth, provided always it be with good will to help one’s neighbour. -Therefore be charitable; but if you have the fear of your husband and -the sanctity of wedlock before your eyes, why! ’tis a vain superstition -we women should never entertain, seeing how nature hath given us good -things in divers sorts, not to use the same niggardly, like some vile -miserly hag with her treasure hoard, but rather to distribute them -generously to poor suffering mortals and men in dire straits. True -it is our chastity doth resemble a treasure, which it behooves us be -niggard of on base occasions; but for high and noble ones, we should -dispense thereof liberally and without stint. In like wise ought we to -deal with our chastity, the which we must yield up generously to folk -of merit and desert, and ill-fortune to boot, but refuse to such as be -vile, worthless, and such as do not stand in need. As for our husbands, -truly these be fine idols, for us never to pay our vows and candles to -any but them only, and never to visit other handsome images! For ’tis -to God alone we do owe absolute and unbroken allegiance, and to no man.” - -Now this discourse was in no wise displeasing to the lady, and did -much advantage the lover, who by help of a little perseverance, did -presently reap the benefit thereof. Yet are Charity sermons of the sort -right dangerous for the unhappy husbands. I have heard tell (I know not -whether it be true, so I will not say for certain it is so), how at -the beginning when the Huguenots did first establish their religion, -and they would be holding their preachings at night and in secret -places, for fear of being surprised, sought out and punished, whenas -one day they were thus in the Rue St. Jacques at Paris, in the days of -King Henri II., certain great ladies resorting thither to receive this -Charity, were all but caught in the act. After the Minister had done -his sermon, at the end thereof he did recommend them to be charitable; -whereupon without more ado they did extinguish the lights, and on -the spot each man and woman did exercise the same towards his or her -brother or sister in Christ, dispensing it one to the other according -to the good will and ability of each. But this I dare not assert right -out, though I have been assured ’tis a true thing. Yet on the contrary -’tis very possible the whole is a mere lie and imposture.[85*] - -At any rate I know this much well, how at Poitiers there dwelt at -that time a certain advocate’s wife, known by the name of the fair -Gotterelle, whom myself have seen, which was one of the most beautiful -women of her day, of the most charming grace and shape, and one of -the most desirable dames in all the town at that time. Wherefore was -every man fain to be making eyes at the same, and laying of his heart -at her feet. She was one day at the end of sermon time handled by -a round dozen of student lads, one after the other, whether in the -Consistory or under some pent-house, or as I have heard some say, -under a gallows in the Old Market,—at any rate without her having -made one single outcry or refusal. Rather, asking only the text of -the sermon for password, she did welcome them one after other right -courteously, as her true brothers in Christ. This gentle alms-giving -she did long continue afterward towards them, yet would she never -bestow one farthing’s worth on any Papist.[86*] Yet were there sundry -of that faith which, borrowing of the Huguenot comrades the word and -the jargon of their meeting-house, did enjoy her favours. Others again -would resort to the sermonizing expressly for this cause, and pretend -to be converted, to learn the secret and so have pleasure of this -beauteous dame. I was then at Poitiers as a student lad, and several -good comrades of mine, who had their share of her favour, did assure me -of the fact, and swear to it; moreover the general bruit in the place -did confirm the same. Verily a delectable and charitable deed to do, -and a right conscientious lady thus to make choice and preference of -her fellow religionists! - -Yet another form of Charity is there, which is oft times practised -towards poor prisoners who are shut up in dungeons and robbed of all -enjoyments with women. On such do the gaolers’ wives and women that -have charge over them, or châtelaines who have prisoners of war in -their Castle, take pity and give them share of their love out of very -charity and mercifulness. Thus did a certain Roman courtesan say once -to her daughter, of whom a gallant was deeply enamoured, but she would -never bestow on him so much as a farthing’s worth: _E dagli, al manco -por misericordia_,—“Well, well! do him charity then for pity’s sake.” - -Thus do these gaolers’ wives, noble châtelaines and others, treat their -prisoners, the which, captive and unhappy though they be, yet cease -not for that to feel the prickings of the flesh, as much as ever they -did in their best days. As saith the old proverb, “Longing cometh of -lacking,” so even in the straw and on the hard ground, my lord Priapus -will still be lifting his head, as well as on the best and softest bed -in all the world. - - * * * * * - -Hence it cometh that beggars and prisoners, in their lazar-houses and -prisons, are just as wanton as Kings, Princes and great folk in their -rich Palaces and on their royal and dainty couches. - -To confirm what I say, I will instance a tale that Captain Beaulieu, -Captain of the King’s Galleys, of whom I have before spoke once and -again, did tell me.[87*] He was in the service of the late Grand Prior -of France, a member of the house of Lorraine, who was much attached -to him. Going one time to take his patron on board at Malta in a -frigate, he was taken by the Sicilian galleys, and carried prisoner to -the Castel-à-mare at Palermo, where he was shut up in an exceedingly -narrow, dark and wretched dungeon, and very ill entreated by the space -of three months. By good hap the Governor of the Castle, who was a -Spaniard, had two very fair daughters, who hearing him complaining and -making moan, did one day ask leave of their father to visit him, for -the honour of the good God; and this he did freely give them permission -to do. And seeing the Captain was of a surety a right gallant -gentleman, and as ready-tongued as most, he was able so to win them -over at this, the very first visit, that they did gain their father’s -leave for him to quit his wretched dungeon and to be put in a seemly -enough chamber and receive better treatment. Nor was this all, for they -did crave and get permission to come and see him freely every day and -converse with him. - -And this did fall out so well that presently both the twain of them -were in love with him, albeit he was not handsome to look upon, and -they very fair ladies. And so, without a thought of the chance of -more rigorous imprisonment or even death, but rather tempted by such -opportunities, he did set himself to the enjoyment of the two girls -with good will and hearty appetite. And these pleasures did continue -without any scandal, for so fortunate was he in this conquest of his -for the space of eight whole months, that no scandal did ever hap all -that time, and no ill, inconvenience, nor any surprise or discovery at -all. For indeed the two sisters had so good an understanding between -them and did so generously lend a hand to each other and so obligingly -play sentinel to one another, that no ill hap did ever occur. And he -sware to me, being my very intimate friend as he was, that never in -his days of greatest liberty had he enjoyed so excellent entertainment -or felt keener ardour or better appetite for it than in the said -prison,—which truly was a right good prison for him, albeit folk say -no prison can be good. And this happy time did continue for the space -of eight months, till the truce was made betwixt the Emperor and Henri -II., King of France, whereby all prisoners did leave their dungeons and -were released. He sware that never was he more grieved than at quitting -this good prison of his, but was exceeding sorry to leave these fair -maids, with whom he was in such high favour, and who did express all -possible regrets at his departing. - -I did ask him if ever he apprehended ill consequences, if he were -discovered. To which he made reply, he most certainly did, yet was not -afeared thereof. For at the worst they would but have put him to death, -and he had rather have died than go back to his first dungeon. Moreover -he was afraid, if he had failed to gratify these honourable maids, -seeing they sought to him so eagerly, that they would have conceived so -sore a despite and disdain against him, that he would have gotten some -worse treatment even than afore. Wherefore, close shutting his eyes to -all consequences, he did adventure boldly on this merry emprise. - -Many another adventure of the sort is related in our land of France, as -of the Duc d’Arschot, who when a prisoner in the Bois de Vincennes, did -escape by the help of an honourable lady; the which lady however was -like to have suffered sore for it, seeing ’twas a matter of the King’s -service.[88*] And indeed suchlike deeds of charity are blameworthy, -if they do touch the general weal, though very good and commendable, -when only the individual is concerned, and the lover’s life and his -mistress’s only endangered. In this there is scant hurt. - -I could instance many fine examples pertinent to this matter, if I were -desirous of writing a separate discourse thereon,—and insooth ’twould -be by no means an unamusing subject. However I will but quote the -following one, and no other beside, for the sake of telling a pleasant -and classic tale. - -We read in Livy how, after the Romans had utterly destroyed the town of -Capua, certain inhabitants of that city did come to Rome to represent -their unhappy state to the Senate, and beseech the Fathers to have pity -on them. The matter was debated and amongst others which did pronounce -an opinion was M. Atilius Regulus, who did maintain they should show no -mercy whatever. “For he could in no wise discover,” he declared, “any -single Capuan, since the revolting of their city, who could be said to -have displayed the least atom of friendliness or affection for the -Roman State, except only two honourable women,”—the one Vestia Oppia, -an Atellane, from the city of Atella, domiciled at Capua at the time, -and the other, one Faucula Cluvia, both of whom had been aforetime -ladies of pleasure and courtesans, plying their trade publicly in -that city.[89*] The one had let never a day pass without offering up -prayers and sacrifices for the success and victory of the Roman People, -while the other had deserved well for having by stealth succoured with -victuals the poor prisoners of war, dying of hunger and misery. - -Verily good and pious deeds of Charity these! But hereanent, a noble -gentleman, an honourable lady and myself reading of this passage of -Livy together one day, we did suddenly exclaim one to the other, how -seeing these two honourable dames had gone thus far and had performed -such good and pious offices, that doubtless they had gone on to yet -others, and had bestowed on the poor prisoners the charity of their -fair bodies. For indeed in former days they had distributed these same -alms to other folk, being then courtesans, or mayhap being so still. -Still the book doth not say so, but leaveth this point in doubt; yet -may we guess how ’twas. But even granting they had of yore plied this -trade, but had now left it off for some space, yet might they very well -have taken it up again, nothing being more easy and facile to do. Then -likely enough they did recognise and once again receive some of the -good lovers of their former acquaintance, and were now ready to return -once more somewhat on their old courses. Or again ’tis quite likely -that among the prisoners, they may have seen some, hitherto unknown -and which they had never set eyes on but this once, and found the same -handsome, brave, valiant and well-liking gallants, that did well -deserve all their charity, and so could they do no otherwise than grant -them full enjoyment of their good favours. - -Thus, in whatsoever way it came about, did these honourable ladies well -earn the courtesy which the Roman Commonwealth showed them, making them -to recover all their goods, and assuring them the peaceable enjoyment -of the same for all time. Nay! more, they did make known to them how -they might ask what they would, and they should have their request. -And to speak candidly, if Titus Livy had not been so reticent and -unduly constrained by shamefacedness and overmodesty, he might very -well have spoke right out about these ladies, and said plainly they did -not grudge the favour of their fair bodies. So would this passage of -History have been yet more excellent and entertaining to peruse, had he -not thus docked his narrative, and left sticking at his pen-point the -best part of the tale. Such was the discourse we three did hold thereon -at the time. - - - 13. - -King John of France,[90] when a prisoner in England, did in like-wise -receive many marks of favour from the Countess of Salisbury, and such -pleasant ones that, not being able to forget the same and the titbits -she bestowed on him, he did return once more to see her again, as she -had made him swear and promise he would do. - -Other ladies there be which are complaisant herein up to a certain -point of conscience and charity. Of this sort was one which would never -suffer her lover, sleep with her as oft as he might, to kiss her the -least in the world on the lips, giving as her reason that ’twas her -mouth had made the oath of faith and fealty to her husband, and she -would fain not foul the same by way of the very mouth that had made and -taken it. But as for that of the body, the which had said never a word -and promised naught, this she did let him do with at his good pleasure, -and made no scruple to yield to her lover, seeing it is not in the -competence of the upper part to pledge itself for the lower, any more -than for the lower for the upper. For that the custom of Law doth say -that none can bind himself for another without the consent and word of -either party, nor one only for the whole. - -Another most conscientious and scrupulous dame, when granting her -friend enjoyment of her, would always take the upper station and -bring her man under her, never abating one jot of this rule. For, -by observing the same straitly and regularly, she would say, if her -husband or any other did ask whether such an one had done to her, that -she could deny even on oath, and assuredly protest, without sinning -against God, that never had he done so with her. This oath she did so -emphatically make as to quite satisfy her husband and others by dint -of her confident swearing in answer to their questions. So did they -credit her in what she alleged, “yet had never the wit,” she would say, -“to demand if ever she had taken the upper part herself; by the which -question they would have brought much scorn on me,” she said, “and sore -trouble of mind.” - -Methinks I have before now spoke of this point; yet cannot a man always -remember everything. Moreover it doth better accord with the matter -here in hand than with other, as it seemeth me. - -Commonly ladies of this sort are great liars, and speak never a word -of truth. For so trained are they and broken in to lying,—and truly -if they do otherwise, they are fools, and come but to ill,—to their -husbands and lovers anent these matters and these changes of love, -and so used to swearing they never give themselves to any but them -only, that when they come to deal with other matters of consequence, -of business or argument, they never do aught but lie, and no man can -believe a thing they say. - -Other women again I have both known and heard speak of, which would -never grant their favours to their lovers but when they were with -child, to the end they might not conceive. Wherein they did make great -scruple so as not to falsely give their husbands a fruit that was not -really theirs, and nourish, feed and bring up the same as their own. I -have already spoke on this subject. However, being once pregnant, they -would deem they were doing the husband no wrong nor making him cuckold -by prostituting themselves. - -Very like, some were used to do thus for the same reasons as moved -Julia, the Emperor Augustus’ daughter and wife of Agrippa, who in her -time was a notorious harlot, whereat was her father more sore angered -than her husband. Once being asked if that she were not afeared of -being made pregnant by her lovers, and her husband noting it and being -very wroth with her, she made answer: “Nay! I take good heed in this, -for I do receive no man and take never a passenger in my ship, but when -it is laden and carrying full cargo.” - -Now here we have yet another sort of cuckolds; and these same are -true martyrs, they which have wives as ugly as devils in hell, who -nevertheless are fain to take their share in tasting the sweets of -love just as much as their fairer sisters, though these last properly -do deserve this privilege alone according to the proverb: “Handsome -men to the gallows, fair dames to the brothel.”[91] Yet do these ugly -coal-wenches play the gay woman like the rest. And they must needs -be forgiven; for are they not women too, and with a like nature and -complexion, only not so fair seeming. I have seen very plain women, at -any rate in their youth, which did rate themselves just as highly as -fairer dames, deeming that a woman is valued at just the worth she doth -put upon herself and will sell herself for. Even as at a good market -all sorts of wares are sold and pledged, some at a high, some at a -lower rate, according to the amount of business a-doing, and the time -at which one cometh to market after others, and according to the good -or bad price one doth find ruling there. For, as folk say, a man goeth -always to the best market, and albeit the stuff be not of the best, the -price will depend on the skill of the market-man and market-woman. - -So is it with plain women, of whom I have seen some that, by my troth, -were as hot and lustful and as well inclined for love as the fairest, -and would put themselves on the market and be as fain as any to get a -good price and full value. - -But the worst thing I find in them is this, that whereas the dealers -make offers to the fairest, these others do make offers to the dealers -and beg them to take and accept of their goods, the which they are -ready to give them for nothing or at a very low price. Nay! they go -further still; for most often they do give them money to taste of their -lecherousness and be debauched of them. Now look at the pity of it! -for in payment of such debauching no little sum of money is needed,—so -much so that it doth cost more than the person is worth. And yet is the -poor husband no less degraded and made cuckold by a plain wife, whose -fare is much harder to digest than a beautiful woman’s. To say nothing -of a man’s having to lie by his side a devil of hell, in place of a -beauteous angel. - -Wherefore I have heard many gallant men say they had rather have a -beautiful woman, and one something whorish, than a plain woman, though -the most chaste in all the world. For in a foul dame is to be found -naught but wretchedness and displeasure; in a fair one is abundance of -all pleasure and good happiness,—as some folk maintain. For myself I -refer me to such as have trod this roadway and path. - -I have heard some men say sometimes, that for husbands it is no such -grand thing for them to have their wives chaste. For then are these -so boastful of the fact, I mean those women that do possess this most -uncommon gift, that you might almost declare them fain to dominate -not alone their husbands, but the very world itself and the stars of -heaven! Nay! they seem to think, judging from their pride of chastity, -that God doth owe them some special return therefor. Yet are they -greatly deceived; for I have heard learned Doctors say, how that God -doth more love a poor sinful woman, repentant and contrite, as in the -case of the Magdalene, than a prideful and haughty dame, which doth -suppose she hath surely won Paradise, without any need for the pity -and merciful judgment of God. - -I have heard tell of a lady so boastful by reason of her chastity that -she did come so to look down upon her husband, that when asked if she -had lain with him, “No!” she would reply, “but he hath lain with me.” -So proud a dame was she! I leave you to imagine how these same silly, -boastful, virtuous wives do chide their poor husbands, even though they -may have naught really to reproach them with. So in especial do such -wives as are chaste and rich likewise. A wife that is at once virtuous -and wealthy in her own right, will ever be playing the disdainful, -haughty, proud and bold lady towards her husband, so that by reason of -the over high value she doth set on her chastity and her well guarded -front, she cannot refrain her from putting on the airs of an empress -and chiding her husband on his committing the smallest fault, as I have -seen sundry do, and above all on his ill way of life. If he gamble, or -be wasteful or extravagant, mightily doth she protest and storm, making -her home to seem rather a hell upon earth than an honourable household. -Then if he need to sell aught of his property to meet the cost of -a journey to Court or to the wars, or of his lawsuits, necessities -or minor follies and frivolous expenses, never a word must he speak -thereof. For such an empire hath the wife assumed over him, resting it -on the strong foundation of her virtue, that her husband must needs -refer all to her judgment, as Juvenal well says in one of his Satires: - - “... Animus uxoris si deditus uni, - Nil unquam invita donabis conjuge; vendes, - Hac obstante, nihil haec, si nolit, emetur.”[92] - -These lines of the poet show plainly that the ancient Roman dames were -in this matter of an humour much akin to that of many ladies of our own -day. On the contrary, when a wife is something whorish, she will show -herself far more accommodating, more yielding, docile and timid, of a -much gentler and more agreeable disposition, more humble and ready to -do aught her husband may desire, and more complaisant to him in all -things. So have I seen some such which durst never scold or cry out, -nor show themselves cross-gained, for fear the husband should confront -them with their fault and throw their adultery in their face, and make -them to feel the consequences thereof at the cost of their life itself. -Then if the gallant fellow is fain to sell some property of theirs, lo! -their names are writ to the contract before ever the husband have time -to say the word. Many of this sort have I seen. In one word they do -what their husbands please. - -Well! are these then so sorely hurt to be made cuckold of such fair -dames, and to win of them such fine goods and advantages as these,—to -say naught of the fine, delightsome pleasure they do enjoy in wantoning -with suchlike beauteous women, and swimming, so to speak, with them -in a beautiful, clear stream instead of a foul and repulsive slough? -And since a man must die, as a certain great Captain I know used to -say, is it not far better for it to be by a fine fresh sword, bright, -clear, shining and keen-edged, than by an old blade, all rusted and ill -burnished, one calling for more emery than all the sword-cutlers of -Paris together could furnish? - -And what I say of young women that are plain, I say the like of some -old women, the which are fain to be debauched and be kept clean and -bright by use, just as much as the fairest in all the world. Elsewhere -do I give a special Discourse to this subject (the Fifth Discourse, -following). And this is the worst of it: when their husbands cannot -fulfil the duty, then the rogues will be calling in substitutes, -being every bit as passionate as younger women, or even more so. So -have I seen some that neither at the beginning nor the middle of life -are ready to be excited, but only at the end. And rightly do men say -that in these matters the end is more fierce than the two other ages, -the beginning and the middle,—so far as wishing goes. For very often -strength and competence are then lacking, a thing that doth vex them -sore,—as saith the old proverb: ’Tis great grief and pain, when a -backside hath right good will, but power is a-wanting. - -So are there always some of these poor old wretches, which do admit -their lovers gratis, like a muleteer on his beast, and do distribute -their largess at the expense of their two purses; but ’tis the money -purse only makes these find the other, the body’s purse, good and -narrow. Thus we say that liberality is more to be esteemed in all -matters than avarice and niggardliness, except only with women, -who, the more liberal they are, the less are they esteemed, but the -avaricious and niggard all the more for being so. - -This was what a great Lord did say one time of two great ladies, -sisters, whom I know of, whereof the one was niggard of her honour, but -liberal of her purse and expenditure, the other exceeding chary of her -purse and money, but very liberal of her person. - -Next there is yet another sort of cuckolds, one that of a surety is -utterly abominable and hateful before God and man alike, they who, -enamoured of some handsome Adonis, do abandon their wives to men of -this kind in order to enjoy their favour in return. - -The first time ever I was in Italy, I did hear of an example of this -at Ferrara, the tale being told me of one who, captivated by a certain -handsome youth, did persuade his wife to accord her favours to the said -young man, who was in love with her, and to appoint a day and consent -to do all he should bid her. The lady was willing enough, for truly -she did desire no better venison to regale herself withal than this. -At length was the day fixed, and the hour being come when the young -lover and the lady were at their pleasant game and entertainment, lo! -the husband, who was hid near at hand, according to the compact betwixt -him and his wife, did rush in. So catching them in the very act, he -did put his dagger to the lover’s throat, deeming him worthy of death -for such offence, in accordance with the laws of Italy, which herein -be something more rigorous than in France. So was he constrained to -grant the husband what he did desire, and they made exchange one with -the other. The young man did prostitute himself and the husband did -abandon his wife to the young man. Thus was the husband cuckold after -an exceeding foul fashion.[93*] - -I have heard tell of a lady, which being desperately in love with an -honourable gentleman whom she had taken for lover and chief favourite, -and this latter fearing the husband would do him or her some ill -turn, did comfort him, saying, “Nay! have no fear, for he would in no -wise dare do aught, for dread I should accuse him of having wished -to practice the backdoor Venus, which might well bring about his -death, if I were to breathe the least word thereof and denounce him to -justice. But in this way I do hold him in check and in terror, so that -for fear of my accusation, he dares not say one word to me.” - -Without a doubt such accusation would have involved the poor husband in -naught less than peril of his life; for the legists declare that this -act is punishable for the mere wish to commit the same. But mayhap the -lady did never mean to let out the word altogether, and would not have -gone so far as this without reconsidering her intent. - -I have been told how in one of these latter years a young French -gentleman, a handsome gallant that had been seen many a day at Court, -being gone to Rome for instruction in manly exercises, like others his -contemporaries, was in that city regarded with so favourable an eye, -and did meet with such great admiration of his beauty, as well of men -as of women, that folk were ready almost to force him to their will. -And so whenever they were aware of his going to Mass or other place of -public assemblage, they would never fail, either men or women, to be -there likewise for to see him. Nay, more, several husbands did suffer -their wives to give him love assignations in their houses, to the -end that being come thither and then surprised, they might effect an -exchange, the one of his wife, the other of him. For which cause he was -advised never to yield to the love and wishes of these ladies, seeing -the whole matter had been contrived and arranged merely to entrap him. -And herein he did show himself wise and did set his honour and good -conscience above all such detestable pleasures, winning thereby a high -and worthy repute. Yet at the last his squire did kill him. Divers -reasons are given therefor. At any rate ’twas a sore pity, for that -he was a very honourable young man, of good station, and one that did -promise well of his nature as well by reason of his noble actions as -of the fine and noble character he did manifest herein. For indeed, as -I have heard a very gallant man of my time say, and as is most true, -never yet was _bougre_ or catamite a brave, valiant and generous man -but only the great Julius Cæsar, seeing that by divine permission -and ordinance all such abominable folk are brought low and reduced -to shame. And this doth make me wonder how sundry, whom I have seen -stained by this horrid vice, have yet prospered under heaven in high -good fortune; yet doth God wait for them, and at the last we shall -surely see them meet their proper fate. - -How many women there be in the world, which if they were examined -by midwives and doctors and expert surgeons, would be found no more -virgin one way than another, and which could at any moment bring -action against their husbands. Yet do they dissimulate it and dare not -discover the matter, for fear of bringing scandal on themselves and -their husbands, or perhaps because they do find therein some greater -pleasure than we can suppose. Or it may be for the purpose I have above -named,—to keep their husbands in such subjection, if they do make love -in other quarters, which indeed some husbands do on these terms allow -them to do. Yet are none of these reasons really sufficient to account -for the thing. - -The _Summa Benedicti_ saith: If the husband chooseth thus to take his -part contrary to the order of nature, he commits a mortal sin; and if -he maintain that he may dispose of his own wife as he please, he doth -fall into a detestable and foul heresy of sundry Jews and evil Rabbis, -which are cited as saying thus, _duabus mulieribus apud synagogam -conquestis se fuisse a viris suis cognitu sodomitico cognitas, -responsum est ab illis Rabinis: virum esse uxoris dominum, proinde -posse uti ejus utcumque libuerit, non aliter quam qui piscem emit: ille -enim, tam anterioribus quam posterioribus partibus, ad arbitrium vesci -posse_. - -This have I quoted only in Latin, forasmuch as it soundeth ill to -honourable and modest ears. Abominable wretches that they be,—thus to -desert a fair, pure and lawful habit, to adopt instead one that is -foul, dirty, filthy and forbid, and disgraceful to boot. - -But if the man will take the woman so, it is lawful for her to separate -from him, if there is no other means to cure him. And yet, it is -stated again, such women as fear God ought never to consent thereto, -but rather cry out for help, regardless of the scandal which might -so arise, and of dishonour and the fear of death; for ’tis better, -saith the law, to die than to consent to evil. The same book doth say -another thing which I deem very strange: that whatsoever way a husband -know his wife, provided she may conceive thereby, herein is no mortal -sin, but only a venial one. Nor do these same smack at all of marital -purity, albeit, as I have before said, it may be permissible in case -of pregnant women, as well as such as have a strong and unpleasant -breath, whether from the mouth or nose. Thus have I known and heard -speak of several women to kiss whom and scent their breath was as bad -as smelling at a sewer; or to put it another way, I have heard it said -of a certain great lady, a very great one indeed I mean, that once one -of her ladies declared her breath stank more than a backhouse. These -are the very words she used. - -I would say more of this, but in truth I have a horror of speaking -thereof at all. It hath vexed me to have said so much as I have; but -’tis needful sometimes to lay open public vices in order to reform the -same. - - - 14. - -Next it behoveth me to mention an ill opinion which many have held and -do still hold concerning the Court of our French Kings. Men say the -ladies thereof, both maids and wives, do oft times trip, indeed do so -customarily. But in this are they very much deceived, for truly there -be amongst these very chaste, honourable and virtuous women, nay! even -more than elsewhere. Virtue doth reside there just as much, or more -than in other places,—a fact we should duly prize, for that it can -readily be put to proof. - -Je n’alléguerai que ce seul exemple de Mme. la grande-duchesse de -Florence d’aujourd’hui, de la maison de Lorraine,[94*] laquelle étant -arrivée á Florence le soir que le grand-duc l’épousa, et qu’il voulut -aller coucher avec elle pour la dépuceler, il la fit avant pisser dans -un bel urinoir de cristal, le plus beau et le plus clair qu’il put, -et en ayant vu l’urine, il la consulta avec son médecin, qui était un -très grand et très savant et expert personnage, pour savoir de lui, par -cette inspection, si elle était pucelle oui ou non. Le médecin l’ayant -bien fixement et doctement inspectée, il trouva qu’elle était telle -comme quand sortit du ventre de sa mère, et qu’il y allât hardiment, -et qu’il n’y trouverait point le chemin nullement ouvert, frayé ni -battu; ce qu’il fit, et en trouva la vérité telle et puis. - -Then next morning, in amaze, he did exclaim thus: “Lo and behold, a -miracle,—that the girl should thus have come forth a virgin from yonder -Court of France!” Truly a curious investigation, and a strange opinion! -I know not if the tale be true, but it hath been confidently affirmed -to me as being so. - -A fine repute for our Court. But indeed ’tis no long while since men -generally held that all the ladies of the Court and of Paris city were -not so virtuous of their body as they of the open countryside, and such -as never left their homes. There have been men known so scrupulous they -would never wed with girls or women which had travelled far afield, -and seen the world, be it ever so little. Thus in our native Guyenne, -in the days of my youth, I have heard not a few gallant gentlemen say -this and seen them swear to the same, that they would never wed girl -or woman which should ever have gone forth of the Port de Pille, to -journey away toward France. Poor silly creatures surely herein, albeit -wise and gallant men enough in other matters, to suppose that cuckoldry -did never abide in their own houses, at their hearths and in their -closets and bedchambers, just as readily,—or mayhap more so, seeing the -easy opportunities,—as in the Royal Palaces and the great Royal towns! -For could not lovers well enough come thither to suborn, win over, -court and undo their wives for them, when they were themselves away at -Court, at the wars, or the chase, attending their law business or on -their journeyings abroad? This they would never understand, but were -so simple as to think men would never dare to say one word of love to -their ladies, but speak only of their households, gardens, hunting and -hawking parties. And so by such blindness and rash confidence they did -get themselves cuckolded even more freely than elsewhere; for there is -no spot where a fair and clever woman, and an honourable and gallant -man, cannot find room and convenience for love-making. Poor fools and -idiots that they were! could they not realize how that Venus hath no -fixed and special place of abode, as of old in Cyprus, at Paphos and -Amathos, and see that she doth dwell everywhere, yea! even in the very -herdsmen’s cots and the lowly lap of shepherdesses the most simple -seeming? - -Since some while now have they begun to abandon these silly prejudices. -For, having observed that in all parts was risk of this same unhappy -cuckoldry, they have of late taken wives wherever they have pleased or -been able. Nay! they have gone yet further; for they have sent them -or taken them with them to Court, to let their beauty be manifest and -have full appreciation, and so strike envy to the heart of all and -sundry,—as if for the very end of getting themselves a set of horns! - -Others again do nowadays send their wives, or take the same along with -them, to plead and influence by their solicitations their suits at law; -whereof some really and truly have no law business at all, but do make -pretense they have. Or else, if they really have some case toward, they -will wilfully prolong the same, the better to prolong their amours. -Nay! sometimes husbands will actually leave their wives on duty at the -Courts, in the galleries and great Hall thereof, and so away to their -own homes, deeming these will better do their business for them, and -they will win their cause better so. And in truth I do know of several -which have so won them, more by the dexterity and delights of their -wives’ fore parts than by any claim of justice on their side. And so -many a time will the wives be gotten with child at this game, and then -to avoid scandal,—drugs having failed of their efficacy to preserve -them therefrom,—will speedily hie away home to their husbands, feigning -they are going thither to look up titles or documents of the which they -stand in need, or to institute some enquiry, or else that ’tis to await -Martinmas and the re-opening of the Courts, and that being unable in -vacation time to make any progress in their suit, they are fain to have -a bout of the male and see their households again and husbands. And so -they do in sooth, but they were well in child, ere ever they began! - -I appeal to many a learned judge and presiding magistrate as to the -fine tit-bits these same have enjoyed from time to time of country -gentlemen’s wives. - -’Tis no long while since a very fair, great and honourable lady, which -myself have known, going in this wise to forward her case at the Paris -Courts, one seeing it did say, “Why! what doth she think to do? She -will surely lose, for she hath no great claim of right and justice.” -But, tell me, doth not her right and justice lie in the beauty of her -fore part, even as Cæsar did bear his on the pommel and point of his -sword?[95*] - -Thus are country gentlemen cuckolded by the men of the Law, in revenge -for the cuckoldries they themselves commit on judges’ and magistrates’ -good ladies. And indeed some of these last I have seen who have been -a fair match, when all charms were displayed, for many wives and -daughters of Lords, Knights and high-born gentlemen of the Court and -other such. - -I knew once a great lady, which had been very fair, but years had worn -out her beauty. Having a law case at Paris, and seeing her beauty was -no more meet to help her to forward and win her process, she did take -with her a certain neighbour of hers, a young and pretty woman. And to -this end she did supply her with a good sum of money, as much as ten -thousand crowns; and so what she could not herself do, willing as she -would have been, in this she did find her advantage, and the young lady -to boot, and both the twain were well pleased. - -’Tis no long while since I saw a mother take thither one of her -daughters, albeit she was a married woman, to help her forward her -case, having no other business there at all. And truly she is a very -fair lady, and well worth a man’s while to listen to. - -However ’tis high time I should make an end in this my grand discourse -concerning cuckoldry. For at the last would my long periods, tossed to -and fro in these deep waters and mighty torrents, be clean drowned; -and I should never have done, or have wit enough to get me out of the -thing, no more than out of that Labyrinth of yore, though I should have -the longest and strongest thread was ever in this world for guide and -safe conduct. - -Finally I will conclude by saying this, that if we are the cause of -many ills, and do give torments, martyrdoms and evil times to the poor -cuckolds, still we do verily pay for the same through the nose, as the -saying is, and are mulcted in a triple interest. For verily the more -part of them that do them wrong and make unlawful love, the more part -of the same gallants, do endure quite as great ills as they inflict, -seeing all the jealousies they are liable to, not less from their -rivals in the pursuit than from the husbands themselves. Then consider -the anxieties and caprices they have to put up with, the risks they -run of danger and death, of maiming and wounds, of affronts, insults, -quarrels, terrors, pains and penalties of every kind. Think how they -must needs endure cold and wet, wind and heat. I say naught here of pox -and chancres, all the plagues and diseases they incur at this game, as -much with high-born dames as with those of low degree. Thus it is that -many and many a time they buy right dear what is granted them, and the -game is truly not worth the candle. - -Yea! many such have we seen perish miserably, at the very time they -were set forth on their way to conquer a whole kingdom. Witness M. de -Bussi, the paragon of his day, and many another. - -Of such I could cite an host more; but I will leave them unnamed, to -the end I may have done, only admonishing lovers and advising them -to practise the Italian proverb which saith, _Che molto guadagna chi -putana perde_! (He who loseth an harlot, gaineth much). - -Amé, Count of Savoy, was often used to say: - - En jeu d’armes et d’amours - Pour une joye cent doulours. - - (“In the sport of arms and of love, - for one joy an hundred dolours.”) - -using this quaint old word, the better to make out his rhyme. Another -saying of his was, that love and anger had this point of great -unlikeness one with the other, that whereas anger doth pass away soon -and very readily from the person affected, love doth so only with the -extreme of difficulty. - -And this is why we should guard well against love of this sort for -that it doth cost us quite as much as it is worth, and doth often lead -to great ill fortunes. And to speak the real truth, the more part of -patient and contented cuckolds have an hundred fold better time, if -only they have the wit to recognise their position and come to an -agreement with their wives, than have the active agents. Yea! and many -an one have I seen, though his horns were in question, would make mock -at us and laugh at all the humours and pretty speeches of us gallants -in converse of love with the wife. The same again when we had perchance -to do with wily dames, who do make an understanding with their husbands -and so sell us. So I knew once a very brave and honourable gentleman, -who had long loved a certain fair and honourable lady and had had of -her the enjoyment he had been fain of for so long. But one day having -observed that the husband and she were making merry at some peculiarity -of his, he did take the thing in such dudgeon that he did leave her, -and for good; for taking a long journey for to divert his thoughts, he -did never speak to the lady again, so he told me. And truly suchlike -wily, cunning and fickle dames must be guarded against, as they were -savage beasts; for to content and appease their husbands, they will -quit their old lovers, and thereafter again take other ones, being in -no wise able to do without them altogether. - -So too I have known a very honourable and great lady, which yet had -this ill fortune with her, that of five or six lovers I have seen her -have in my day, all died one after the other, not without sore grief -on her part therefor.[96] Wherefore did men say of her how that she was -Sejanus’ horse,[96] seeing all they which did mount her did die, and -scarce ever survived. Yet had she this good in her and this merit, that -whosoever it may have been, she was never known to change or abandon -any of her good friends and lovers while yet living, for to take others -instead. Only when they did come to die, she was ever eager to have a -new mount, to the end she might not go a-foot. Moreover, as the lawyers -themselves maintain, ’tis allowed to adopt any protector one may choose -for one’s estate and lands, whenas they are deprived of their first -master. Such constancy in this fair lady was much to be commended; but -albeit _she_ was so far firm in her good faith, yet have there ever -been an host of other dames that have been far from so constant. - -Besides, to speak candidly, ’tis never advisable to grow old in one and -the same spot, and no man of spirit ever doth so. A man must be a bold -adventurer and ever be turning him this way and that, just as much in -love as in war and in other matters. For verily if a sailor do trust to -but one anchor in his ship, if he drag this, he is very likely to lose -his vessel, especially if it be in an exposed place and in a storm, -where squalls and tempestuous waves are more like to occur than in a -calm and in harbour. - -And in what more dangerous and exposed waters could a man adventure -himself and sail forth than in making love to one fair lady only? -For though of herself she may not have been wily and cunning at the -beginning, yet we men do soon make her so and sharpen her wits by -the many strange tricks we play with her, whereby we do often hurt -ourselves, by making her able to carry the war into our own country, -having fashioned and trained her thereto. So is it better far, as -a certain gallant gentleman was used to say, to wed some fair and -honourable dame, albeit with the risk of having a touch of the horns -and suffering this misfortune of cuckoldry that is common to so many, -rather than to endure so many hardships and perils in the making of -other folks cuckold. - -However this is all contrary to the opinion expressed by M. du Gua, to -whom one day I did make a proposition on the part of a certain great -lady which had begged me so to do, to marry him. But he did make this -answer only, that heretofore he had ever deemed me one of his best -friends, but that now I did make him think himself deceived in this, -by my holding such language to him, trying to hunt him into the very -thing he most did hate, that is to get him to marry and be cuckolded, -in lieu of his making other men so. He did further say he could always -wed plenty of women every year, speaking of marriage as an hidden -prostitution of a man’s repute and liberty, ordained by a specious law. -Moreover that the worst of it was, this, as myself also do see and have -noted to be the case, that the more part, nay! all, of them that have -thus taken delight in making other folks cuckold, when themselves come -to wed, infallibly do they fall into the married, I mean the cuckolded, -state. Never yet have I known it fall out otherwise, according to the -word, “As thou shalt do to others, so shall it be done unto you.” - -Before making an end, I will say yet one word more,—how that I have -seen a dispute raised that is still undecided, to wit, in which -provinces and regions of our Christendom and Europe there be most -cuckolds and harlots? Men declare that in Italy the ladies are -exceedingly hot, and for that cause very whorish, as saith M. de -Bèze[97] in a Latin Epigram, to the effect that where the sun is hot -and doth shine with most power, there doth it the most heat women, -inditing a verse thus conceived; - - Credible est ignes multiplicare suos. - - (’Tis to believed he doth there multiply their fires.) - -Spain is in the like case, though it lie more to the Westward; yet doth -the sun there warm fair ladies as well as ever it can in the East. - -Flemish, Swiss, German, English and Scotch women, albeit they dwell -more to the Northward and inhabit cold regions, share no less in this -same natural heat; and indeed I have known them as hot as dames of any -other land. - -The Greeks have good reason to be so, for that they are well to the -Eastward. So in Italy men do pray for _Greca in letto_,—or “a Greek -bedfellow.” And in sooth they do possess many attractive points and -merits, as is but to be expected, seeing in times of old they were the -delight of all the world, and have taught many a secret to the ladies -of Italy and Spain, from ancient times even to the present day,—so much -so that these do well nigh surpass their teachers, whether ancient or -modern. And verily was not the Queen and Empress of all harlots, which -was Venus, a Greek? - -As for my fair countrywomen of France, in old days they were -notoriously very coarse and unrefined, contenting themselves with -doing of it in a coarse, rude fashion. But, beginning some fifty years -since, they have borrowed so much and learned from other nations so -many gentle ways, pretty tricks, charms and attractions, fine clothes, -wanton looks, or else themselves have so well studied to fashion -themselves therein, that we are bound to say that they do now surpass -all other women in every way. So, as I have heard even men of foreign -nations admit, they are better worth a man’s having than any others, -not to mention that naughty words in French are more naughty, better -sounding and more rousing, than in any other tongue.[98*] - -Over and above all this, that excellent liberty we have in France, a -thing more to be esteemed than aught else, doth surely make our women -more desirable and lovable, more easy of access and more amenable, -than they of any other nation. Again adultery is not so constantly -punished as in other lands, by the good wisdom of our noble Councils -and French law-makers, which seeing abuses to arise by reason of such -harsh punishments, have something checked the same, and corrected the -rigorous laws of a former day, passed by men which herein did allow -themselves full license of merry disport, but deprived women altogether -of the same privilege. Thus was it not allowed to an innocent woman -to accuse her husband of adultery, by any laws imperial or canon, as -Cajetan doth assure us. But truly cunning men did make this rule for -the reasons named in the following Italian verses: - - Perche, di quel che Natura concede - Cel’ vieti tu, dura legge d’honore. - Ella à noi liberal large ne diede - Com’ agli altri animai legge d’amore. - Ma l’huomo fraudulento, e senza fede, - Che fu legislator di quest’ errore, - Vendendo nostre forze e buona schiena, - Copri la sua debolezza con la pena. - - (“Oh! over harsh law of honour, why dost thou forbid the thing - that Nature urges us to do? She grants us, as to all animals, the - enjoyment of love abundantly and liberally. But the base deceiver, - man, knowing only too well the vigour of our loins, has established - this mistaken law, so to conceal the weakness of the sexes.”) - -In a word, ’tis good to love in this land of France. I appeal to our -authentic doctors in this science, and even to our courtesans, which -will be more apt than I to elaborate subtle details thereanent. And -to tell the very truth: harlots are there in all lands, and cuckolds -the same, as myself can surely testify, for that I have seen all the -countries I have named, and others to boot. Chastity abideth not in one -quarter of the earth more than another. - - - 15. - -Now will I further ask this one question only, and never another, one -which mayhap hath never yet been enquired into of any, or possibly -even thought of,—to wit, whether two ladies that be in love one with -the other, as hath been seen aforetime, and is often seen nowadays, -sleeping together in one bed, and doing what is called _donna con -donna_, imitating in fact that learned poetess Sappho, of Lesbos, -whether these can commit adultery, and between them make their husbands -cuckold. - -Of a surety do they commit this crime, if we are to believe Martial -in Epigram CXIX of his First Book.[99*] Therein doth he introduce and -speak of a woman by name Bassa, a tribad, reproaching the same greatly -in that men were never seen to visit her, in such wise that folk -deemed her a second Lucretia for chasteness. But presently she came to -be discovered, for that she was observed to be constantly welcoming at -her house beautiful women and girls; and ’twas found that she herself -did serve these and counterfeit a man. And the poet, to describe this, -doth use the words, _geminos committere cunnos_. And further on, -protesting against the thing, he doth signify the riddle and give it -out to be guessed and imagined, in this Latin line: - - Hic, ubi vir non est, ut sit adulterium, - - (“a strange thing,” that is, “that where no man is, yet is adultery - done.”) - -I knew once a courtesan of Rome, old and wily if ever there was one, -that was named Isabella de Luna,[100*] a Spanish woman, which did -take in this sort of friendship another courtesan named Pandora. This -latter was eventually married to a butler in the Cardinal d’Armaignac’s -household, but without abandoning her first calling. Now this same -Isabella did keep her, and extravagant and ill-ordered as she was in -speech, I have oft times heard her say how that she did cause her to -give her husbands more horns than all the wild fellows she had ever -had. I know not in what sense she did intend this, unless she did -follow the meaning of the Epigram of Martial just referred to. - - * * * * * - -’Tis said how that Sappho the Lesbian was a very high mistress in this -art, and that in after times the Lesbian dames have copied her therein, -and continued the practice to the present day. So Lucian saith: such -is the character of the Lesbian women, which will not suffer men at -all. Now such women as love this practice will not suffer men, but -devote themselves to other women and are called _tribads_, a Greek word -derived, as I have learned of the Greeks, from τρίδω, τρίδειν, that is -to say _fricare_. These tribads are called in Latin _fricatrices_, and -in French the same, that is women who do the way of _donne con donne_, -as it is still found at the present day. - -Juvenal again speaks of these women, when he saith:[101*] - - ... frictum Grissantis adorat - -talking of such a tribad, who adored and loved the embraces of one -Grissas. - -The excellent and diverting Lucian hath a chapter on this subject, and -saith therein how that women do come mutually together. Moreover this -name of tribad, which doth elsewhere occur but rarely as applied to -these women, is freely employed by him throughout, and he saith that -the female sex must needs be like the notorious Philaenis, who was -used to parody the actions of manly love. At the same time he doth -add, ’tis better far for a woman to be given up to a lustful affection -for playing the male, than it is for a man to be womanish; so utterly -lacking in all courage and nobility of character doth such an one show -himself. Thus the woman, according to this, which doth counterfeit -the man, may well be reputed to be more valorous and courageous than -another, as in truth I have known some such to be, as well in body as -in spirit. - -En un autre endroit, Lucien introduit deux dames devisantes de cet -amour; et une demande à l’autre si une telle avait été amoureuse -d’elle, et si elle avait couché avec elle, et ce qu’elle lui avait -fait. L’autre répondit librement: “Premièrement, elle me baisa ainsi -que font les hommes, non pas seulement en joignant les lèvres, mais -en ouvrant aussi la bouche, cela s’entend en pigeonne, la langue en -bouche; et, encore qu’elle n’eût point le membre viril et qu’elle fût -semblable à nous autres, si est-ce qu’elle disait avoir de coeur, -l’affection et tout le reste viril; et puis je l’embrassai comme un -homme, et elle me le faisait, me baisait et allentait (je n’entends -point bien ce mot), et me semblait qu’elle y prit plaisir outre mesure, -et cohabita d’une certain Jaçon beaucoup plus agréable que d’un -homme.” Voila ce qu’en dit Lucien. - -Well, by what I have heard say, there be in many regions and lands -plenty of such dames and Lesbian devotees,—in France, in Italy, in -Spain, Turkey, Greece and other places. And wherever the women are kept -secluded, and have not their entire liberty, this practice doth greatly -prevail. - -The Turkish women go to the baths more for this than for any other -reason, and are greatly devoted thereto. Even the courtesans, which -have men at their wish and at all times, still do employ this habit, -seeking out the one the other, as I have heard of sundry doing in -Italy and in Spain. In my native France women of the sort are common -enough; yet it is said to be no long time since they first began to -meddle therewith, in fact that the fashion was imported from Italy by a -certain lady of quality, whom I will not name. - -Several others have I known which have given account of the same manner -of loves, amongst whom I have heard tell of a noble lady of the great -world, who was superlatively given this way, and who did love many -ladies, courting the same and serving them as men are wont. So would -she take them and keep them at bed and board, and give them whatever -they would. Her husband was right glad and well content thereat, as -were many other husbands I have known, all of whom were right glad -their wives did follow after this sort of affection rather than that -of men, deeming them to be thus less wild. But indeed I think they -were much deceived; for by what I have heard said, this is but an -apprenticeship, to come later to the greater one with men. - -How many of these Lesbian dames have I seen who, for all their customs -and habits, yet fail not at the last to go after men! Even Sappho -herself, the mistress of them all, did she not end by loving her fond, -favourite Phaon, for whose sake she died? For after all, as I have -heard many fair ladies declare, there is nothing like men. All these -other things do but serve them but in the lack of men. And if they but -find a chance and opportunity free from scandal, they will straight -quit their comrades and go throw their arms round some good man’s neck. - -I have known in my time two very fair and honourable damsels of a noble -house, cousins of one another, which having been used to lie together -in one bed for the space of three years, did grow so well accustomed -to this, that at the last getting the idea the said pleasure was but a -meagre and imperfect one compared with that to be had with men, they -did determine to try the latter, and soon became downright harlots. And -this was the answer a very honourable damsel I knew did once make to -her lover, when he asked her if she did never follow this way with her -lady friend,—“No, no!” she replied, “I like men too well.” - -I have heard of an honourable gentleman who, desiring one day at Court -to seek in marriage a certain very honourable damsel, did consult one -of her kinswomen thereon. She told him frankly he would but be wasting -his time; for, as she did herself tell me, such and such a lady, naming -her, (’twas one I had already heard talk of) will never suffer her -to marry. Instantly I did recognize the hang of it, for I was well -aware how she did keep this damsel at bed and board, and did guard her -carefully. The gentleman did thank the said cousin for her good advice -and warning, not without a merry gibe or two at herself the while, -saying she did herein put in a word or two for herself as well as for -the other, for that she did take her little pleasures now and again -under the rose. But this she did stoutly deny to me.[102*] - -This doth remind me of certain women which do thus and actually love -these friends so dearly they would not share them for all the wealth in -the world, neither with Prince nor great noble, with comrade or friend. -They are as jealous of them as a beggarman of his drinking barrel; yet -even he will offer this to any that would drink. But this lady was fain -to keep the damsel all to herself, without giving one scrap to others. - -’Tis said how that weasels are touched with this sort of love, and -delight female with female to unite and dwell together. And so in -hieroglyphic signs, women loving one another with this kind of -affection were represented of yore by weasels. I have heard tell of a -lady which was used always to keep some of these animals, for that she -did take pleasure in watching her little pets together. - -Voici un autre point, c’est que ces amours féminines se traitent en -deux façons, les unes par fricarelles, et par, comme dit ce poète, -_geminos committere connos_. - -Cette façon n’apporte point de dommage, ce disent aucuns, comme quand -on s’aide d’instruments façonnés de ..., mais qu’on a voulu appeler des -g.... - -J’ai ouï conter q’un grand prince, se doutant de deux dames de sa cour -qui s’en aidaient, leur fit faire le guet si bien qu’il les surprit, -tellement que l’une se trouva saisie et accommodée d’un gros entre les -jambes, si gentiment attaché avec de petites bandelettes à l’entour du -corps qu’il semblait un membre naturel. Elle en fut si surprise qu’elle -n’eut loisir de l’ôter; tellement que ce prince la contraignit de lui -montrer comment elles deux se le faisaient. - -On dit que plusieurs femmes en sont mortes, pour engendrer en leurs -matrices des apostumes faites par mouvements et frottements point -naturels. - -J’en sais bien quelques-unes de ce nombre, dont ç’a été grand dommage, -car c’étaient de très belles et honnêtes dames et demoiselles, -qu’il eût bien mieux valu qu’elles eussent eu compagnie de quelques -honnêtes gentilhommes, qui pour cela ne les font mourir, mais vivre et -ressusciter, ainsi que j’espère le dire ailleurs; et même que pour la -guérison de tel mal, comme j’ai ouï conter à aucuns chirurgiens, qu’il -n’y a rien de plus propre que de les faire bien nettoyer làdedans par -ces membres naturels des hommes, qui sont meilleurs que des pessaires -qu’usent les médecins et chirurgiens, avec des eaux à ce composées; -et toutefois il y a plusieurs femmes, nonobstant les inconvénients -qu’elles en voient arriver souvent, si faut-il qu’elles en aient de ces -engins contrefaits. - -—J’ai ouï faire un conte, moi étant lors à la Cour, que la reine mère -ayant fait commandement de visiter un jour les chambres et coffres -de tous ceux qui étaient logés dans le Louvre, sans épargner dames et -filles, pour voir s’il n’y avait point d’armes cachées et même des -pistolets, durant nos troubles, il y en eut une qui fut trouvée saisie -dans son coffre par le capitaine des gardes, non point de pistolets, -mais de quatre gros g..., gentiment façonnés, qui donnèrent bien de la -risée au monde, et à elle bien de l’étonnement. - -Je connais la demoiselle: je crois qu’elle vit encore; mais elle n’eut -jamais bon visage. Tels instruments enfin sont très dangereux. Je -ferai encore ce conte de deux dames de la cour qui s’entr’aimaient -si fort et étaient si chaudes à leur métier, qu’en quelque endroit -qu’elles fussent ne s’en pouvaient garder ni abstenir que pour le -moins ne fissent quelques signes d’amourettes ou de baiser; qui les -scandalisaient si fort et donnaient à penser beaucoup aux hommes. Il -y en avait une veuve, et l’autre mariée; et comme la mariée, un jour -d’une grande magnificence, se fut fort bien parée et habillée d’une -robe de toile d’argent, ainsi que leur maîtresse était allée à vêpres, -elles entrèrent dans son cabinet, et sur sa chaise percée se mirent -à faire leur fricarelle si rudement et si impétueusement qu’elle en -rompit sous elles, et la dame mariée qui faisait le dessous tomba avec -sa belle robe de toile d’argent à la renverse tout à plat sur l’ordure -du bassin, si bien qu’elle se gâta et souilla si fort qu’elle ne sut -que faire que s’essuyer le mieux qu’elle put, se trousser, et s’en -aller en grande hâte changer de robe dans sa chambre, non sans pourtant -avoir été aperçue et bien sentie à la trace, tant elle puait: dont il -en fut ri assez par aucuns qui en surent le conte; même leur maîtresse -le sut, qui s’en aidait comme elle, et en rit son saoul. Aussi il -fallait bien que cette ardeur les maîtrisât fort, que de n’attendre un -lieu et un temps à propos, sans se scandaliser. - -Still excuse may be made for maids and widows for loving these -frivolous and empty pleasures, preferring to devote themselves to these -than to go with men and come to dishonour, or else to lose their pains -altogether, as some have done and do every day. Moreover they deem they -do not so much offend God, and are not such great harlots, as if they -had to do with the men, maintaining there is a great difference betwixt -throwing water in a vessel and merely watering about it and round the -rim. However I refer me to them; I am neither their judge nor their -husband. These last may find it ill, but generally I have never seen -any but were right glad their wives should be companionable with their -lady friends. And in very deed this is a very different thing from that -with men, and, let Martial say what he please, this alone will make -no man cuckold. ’Tis no Gospel text, this word of a foolish poet. In -this at any rate he saith true, that ’tis much better for a woman to -be masculine and a very Amazon and lewd after this fashion, than for a -man to be feminine, like Sardanapalus or Heliogabalus, and many another -their fellows in sin. For the more manlike she is, the braver is she. -But concerning all this, I must refer me to the decision of wiser heads. - -Monsieur du Gua and I were reading one day in a little Italian book, -called the _Book of Beauty_,[103*] writ in the form of a dialogue by -the Signor Angelo Firenzuola, a Florentine, and fell upon a passage -wherein he saith that women were originally made by Jupiter and created -of such nature that some are set to love men, but others the beauty -of one another. But of these last, some purely and holily, and as an -example of this the author doth cite the very illustrious Marguerite -of Austria, which did love the fair Laodamia Fortenguerre, but others -again wantonly and lasciviously, like Sappho the Lesbian, and in our -own time at Rome the famous courtesan Cecilia of Venice. Now this sort -do of their nature hate to marry, and fly the conversation of men all -ever they can. - -Hereupon did Monsieur du Gua criticise the author, saying ’twas a -falsehood that the said fair lady, Marguerite of Austria, did love the -other fair dame of a pure and holy love. For seeing she had taken up -her rather than others which might well be equally fair and virtuous as -she, ’twas to be supposed it was to use her for her pleasures, neither -more nor less than other women that do the like. Only to cover up her -naughtiness, she did say and publish abroad how that her love for her -was a pure and holy love, as we see many of her fellows do, which do -dissemble their lewdness with suchlike words. - -This was what Monsieur du Gua did remark thereanent; and if any man -doth wish to discuss the matter farther, well! he is at liberty to do -so. - -This same fair Marguerite was the fairest Princess was ever in all -Christendom in her day. Now beauty and beauty will ever feel mutual -love of one sort or another, but wanton love more often than the other. -She was married three times, having at her first wedlock espoused King -Charles VIII. of France, secondly John, son of the King of Aragon, and -thirdly the Duke of Savoy, surnamed the Handsome. And men spake of them -as the handsomest pair and fairest couple of the time in all the world. -However the Princess did have little profit of this union, for that he -died very young, and at the height of his beauty, for the which she had -very deep sorrow and regret, and for that cause would never marry again. - -She it was had that fair church[104] built which lyeth near Bourg en -Bresse, one of the most beautiful and noble edifices in Christendom. -She was aunt to the Emperor Charles, and did greatly help her nephew; -for she was ever eager to allay all differences, as she and the Queen -Regent did at the treaty of Cambrai, whereunto both of them did -assemble and met together there. And I have heard tell from old folk, -men and women, how it was a beauteous sight there to see these two -great Princesses together. - -Cornelius Agrippa hath writ a brief Treatise on the virtue of women, -and all in panegyric of this same Marguerite. The book is a right good -one, as it could not but be on so fair a subject, and considering its -author, who was a very notable personage. - -I have heard a tale of a certain great lady, a Princess, which among -all her maids of honour did love one above all and more than the rest. -At first were folk greatly surprised at this, for there were plenty of -others did surpass her in all respects. But eventually ’twas discovered -she was a hermaphrodite. - -I have heard a certain great lady also named as being hermaphrodite. -She hath a virile member, but very tiny; yet hath she more of the -woman’s complexion, and I know, by having seen her, she is very fair. I -have heard sundry famous doctors say they have seen plenty such. - -Well, this is all I shall say on the subject of this Chapter, one I -could have made a thousand times longer than I have done, having -matter so ample and lengthy, that if all the cuckold husbands and their -wives that do make them so, were to hold hands, and form a ring, I -verily believe this would be great enough to surround and encircle a -good half of the globe. - -In the days of the late King Francis an old song was current, which -I have heard a very honourable and venerable dame repeat, to the -following effect: - - Mais quand viendra la saison - Que les cocus s’assembleront, - Le mien ira devant, qui portera la bannière; - Les autres suivront après, le vostre sera au derrière. - La procession en sera grande, - L’on verra une très longue bande. - - (But when the season shall come that the cuckolds shall muster, then - mine shall march in front, and shall bear the banner; the rest shall - follow after, while yours shall bring up the rear. A grand sight will - the procession of them be,—a long, long train!) - -Yet would I not inveigh over much against honourable and modest wives, -which have borne themselves virtuously and faithfully in the fealty -sacredly sworn to their husbands; and I do hope anon to write a -separate chapter to their praise, and give the lie to Master Jean de -Meung.[105] Now this poet in his _Roman de la Rose_ did write these -words: Toutes vous autres femmes.... - - Estes ou fustes, - D’effet ou de volonté, putes. - - (Ye women every one are, or have been, mere whores, if not in deed, - then in desire.) - -By these verses he did incur such ill will on the part of the Court -ladies of that day, that by a plot sanctioned of the Queen and with -her privity, these did undertake one day to whip the poet, and did -strip him stark naked. But as all stood ready to strike, he did beseech -them that at any rate the greatest whore of all should begin first. -Then each for very shame durst not strike first; and in this wise he -did escape the whip. Myself have seen the story represented in an old -tapestry among the ancient furnishings of the Louvre. - - - 16. - -No less do I admire a certain Preacher, who one day preaching to a -worthy company, and taking occasion to reprove the habits of some women -and of their husbands which did endure to be cuckolded of them, did of -a sudden set to and shout out: “Yes, I know them well, I can see them, -and I am going to throw these two stones at the heads of the biggest -cuckolds in the assembly.” Then as he did make pretence to throw them, -there was never a man in all the congregation but did duck his head, -or put up his cloak, or his cape, or his arm, before his face, for to -ward off the blow. But the divine, rebuking them, cried, “Did I not -tell you? I did suppose there might be two or three cuckolds in my -congregation; but lo! by what I see, there is never a man but is one.” - -Still, let these wild talkers say what they will, there be many very -chaste and honourable women, who if they had to give battle to their -opposites, would gain the day, not for their numbers but their virtue, -which doth resist and easily subdue its contrary. - -Moreover when the aforenamed Jean de Meung doth blame those women -which are “whores, in desire,” meseems he ought rather to commend and -extol such to the skies, seeing that if they do burn so ardently in -their body and spirit, yet put no wrong in practice, they do herein -manifest their virtue, and the firmness and nobility of their heart. -For they do choose rather to burn and consume away in their own fire -and flame of desire, like that rare and wondrous bird the phœnix, -than forfeit and stain their honour. Herein they do resemble the -white ermine, which had rather die than foul itself,—’tis the device -of a very great lady I knew at one time, yet but ill carried out by -her,—seeing how, it being in their power to apply the remedy, yet do -they so nobly refrain, and seeing there is no greater virtue nor no -nobler victory than to master and subdue one’s own nature. Hereanent -we have a very excellent story in the _Cent Nouvelles_ of the Queen -of Navarre, concerning that honourable lady of Pampeluna, who albeit -in her heart and of desire a whore, and burning for the love of the -handsome and noble M. d’Avannes, did choose rather to die in her heat -of longing than seek her remedy, as she did find means to inform him in -her dying words.[106*] - -Most unfairly and unjustly then did this same fair and honourable lady -bring to pass her own death; and, as I did hear an honourable gentleman -and lady say, when discoursing on this passage, the thing was not void -of offence against God, seeing she could have saved herself from death. -But to so bring it on herself and precipitate it, this is rightly -called suicide. And there be many of her kidney which by reason of this -great continence and abstinence from the pleasures of love, do bring -about their own death, both for body and spirit. - -I have it from a very great physician,—and I fancy he hath given a like -lesson and instruction to several honourable dames,—that the human body -can scarce ever be well, unless all the parts and members thereof, from -the greatest to the least, do all of them and in due accord perform -those offices and functions which wise nature hath appointed them for -their proper health. All must make one harmony together, like a concert -of music, it being in no wise right that while some of the said parts -and members are active, others be out of work. So in a commonweal must -all officers, artisans, workmen and others, do their several tasks -unanimously, without idling and without throwing their work the one on -the other, if it is to go well and the body politic to continue healthy -and entire. And so is it likewise with the human body. - -Suchlike fair ladies, whores in spirit but chaste in body, do verily -deserve everlasting praises. Not so they which are cold as marble, -dull, slack, and stirless as a rock, and have naught of the flesh -about them or any atom of feeling—though such are scarce ever really -to be found. These be neither fair nor sought after of men, and may be -described in the Latin poet’s words, - - ... Casta quam nemo rogavit, - - (Chaste, seeing no man ever solicited her favours.) - -As to this, I do know a great lady, who was used to say to sundry of -her companions that were fair of face, “Truly God hath done me a great -grace in that he hath not made me fair like you. For then should I have -loved like you, and been an harlot even as you are.” Wherefore the more -should men commend such women as are fair and yet chaste, seeing what -their natural bent is. - -Very often too are we deceived in such women. For some of them there be -which, to see them so full of airs and graces, so rueful and pitiful of -mien, so cold and discreet in bearing, and so straitlaced and modest -in their words and severe costume, a man might well take for regular -Saints and most prudish dames. Yet are the same inwardly and of heart’s -desire, and eke outwardly in very deed, downright fine harlots. - -Others again we see which by their pleasant ways and merry words, -their free gestures and worldly, modish dress, might well be deemed of -dissolute manners and ready to give themselves at a moment’s notice. -Yet of their body will these same be highly correct and respectable -dames,—in the world’s eye. As to their secret life, we can only guess -at the truth, so well is it hid away. - -Of these things I could bring forward many and many an example, that -myself have seen and heard of; but I will content me with one which -Livy doth cite, and Boccaccio in even better terms, of a certain fair -Roman dame, by name Claudia Quinta.[107*] This lady did ever appear -abroad more than all the other Roman ladies in showy and something -immodest dress, and by her gay and free bearing did seem more worldly -than was meet, and so won a very ill name as touching her honour. Yet -when the great day came for the welcoming to the city of the goddess -Cybelé, she was cleared of all ill repute. For she had the especial -honour, above all other women, to receive the image of the goddess out -of the ship, to handle and convey the same to the town. At this were -all men astonished, for it had been declared that the best man and the -best woman of the city alone were worthy of this office. Note how folk -may be deceived in women. One is bound to know them well first, and -well examine them, before judging them, one sort as much as the other. - -So must I, before making an end of this subject, name yet another -virtue and property cuckoldry doth contain. This I have of a very -honourable and fair lady of a good house, into whose closet being -one day entered in, I did find her in the very act of finishing the -inditing of a Tale with her own hand. This Tale she did show me very -freely, for I was one of her close friends, and she kept no secrets -from me. She was very witty and ready of words, and right well endowed -for love. Now the opening of the tale was after this wise: - -“It doth seem,” she saith, “how that among other good properties -cuckoldry may bring with it, is the good and excellent knowledge -won thereby as to how the wit is right pleasantly exercised for the -pleasure and content of human nature. For this it is which doth watch -and invent and fashion the needful artifices to succeed, whereas mere -nature doth only furnish the desire and sensual appetite. And this may -be hid by many ruses and cunning devices that are practised in the -trade of love, which doth give horns to poor mankind. For ’tis needful -to cajole a jealous, suspicious and angry husband; ’tis needful to -cajole and blind the eyes of those that be most ready to suspect evil, -and to turn aside the most curious from knowledge of the truth. ’Tis -needful to inspire belief in good faith just where is naught but fraud, -and frankness where is naught but dissimulation. In a word so many -be the difficulties must be overcome to ensure success, these do far -exceed what natural endowment can reach. The wit must be given full -play, which doth furnish forth pleasure, and maketh more horns than -ever the body doth, which strictly speaking implanteth and fixeth the -same.” - -Such were the very words of the said fair lady’s discourse, without -any change whatsoever, which she doth make at the beginning of her -story, that she writ herself. However she did disguise the thing under -other names; and so, following out the loves of the Lord and lady she -hath to do with, and to reach an end and proper perfection, she doth -allege that the appearance of love is but one of satisfaction and -content. ’Tis altogether without form until the entire gratification -and possession of the same, and many a time folk deem they have arrived -at this extreme, when really they are far enough from their desire. -Then for all recompense remaineth naught but the time lost, a cause for -bitter regrets. These last words do deserve to be carefully noted and -well weighed, for they do hit the mark and afford matter for serious -thought. Still there is no other thing but the actual enjoyment in love -whether for man or woman to prevent all regrets for the past time. And -for this cause the said honourable lady did give assignation to her -lover in a wood, whither oft times she would betake her to walk in a -very fair avenue, at the entrance whereof she did leave her women, and -so went forward to find him under a fine, spreading, shady chestnut. -For it was in summer-tide. “In the which retreat,” to go on with the -lady’s tale in her own words, “there is no doubt what life the twain -did lead for a space, and what a fine altar they did raise up to -the poor husband in the Temple of Ceraton (Temple of Horns), albeit -they were not in the island of Delos, the which fane was made all of -horns,—doubtless founded by some gay and gallant fellow of yore.”[108*] - -This is the way the lady did make a mock of her husband, as well in her -writings as also in her pleasures and in very deed. Note well all she -saith, for her words do carry weight, being pronounced and writ down by -so clever and honourable a dame. - -The Tale in truth is right excellent, and I would gladly have copied -the same and inserted it in this place. But alas! ’tis too long, for -the discourse and negotiations before coming to the end they did, are -finely expressed and eke lengthy. First she doth reproach her lover, -who was ever praising her extravagantly, how that ’twas the effect -rather of native and fresh passion in him than of any especial merit -in her, albeit she was one of the fairest and most honourable ladies -of the time. Then, for to combat this opinion, the lover must needs -give great proofs of his love, the which are right well specified and -depicted in the said Tale. Afterward, being now in accord, the pair -do exhibit all sorts of ruses, trickeries and love cajoleries, both -against the husband and against other folk,—all which be of a surety -very excellent and very wittily conceived. - -I did beseech the lady to give me a copy of the Tale. This she did -very readily, and would have none copy it but herself, for fear of -indiscretion; the which copy I do hold as one of my most precious -possessions. - -Now this lady was very right in assigning this virtue and good property -to cuckoldry. For before devoting herself to love, she was not clever -at all. But later, having once taken it in hand, she did become one of -the most witty and clever women in all France, as well in this province -as in others. And in truth she is by no means the only one I have seen -which hath got good training by the handling of love. For I have known -an host of dames which were most silly and awkward at their first -beginning; yet had the same not tarried a year at the school of Cupid -and his lady mother Venus before they came forth thereof right clever -and accomplished adepts in all ways. And for myself I have never yet -seen an harlot but was right clever and well able to hold her own. - -Now will I ask yet this one question more,—in which season of the -year are the most cuckolds made, and which is the most meet for love, -and to shake the virtue of a woman, whether wife or maid? Without a -doubt common consent hath it there is never a time for this like the -Spring, the which doth awaken body and spirit, both put to sleep by -the wearisome, melancholic winter-tide. Seeing all birds and beasts -do rejoice at this season’s coming, and all betake them to love, -surely mankind, which have yet stronger feelings and promptings, will -experience the same even more, and womenfolk above all others,—an -opinion maintained by many philosophers and wise physicians. For truly -women do then entertain a greater heat and lovingness than at any -other season,—as I have heard sundry fair and honourable dames say, -and in especial a certain great lady, that did never miss, so sure -as Spring-tide came round, to be more touched and pricked of these -feelings than at any other period whatsoever. She was used to say she -did feel the fresh grass springing, and did crave after the same like -as mare and colts do, and she must needs taste thereof, or she should -grow pined and thin. And this she did, I do assure you, and at the -season did wax more lustful than ever. Thus three or four new intrigues -that I have seen her enter on in her life, all these she did commence -in Spring,—and not without reason; for of all the months in the year, -April and May be the most surely consecrated and devoted to Venus, at -the which times fair ladies do set them, more than afore, to pet their -bodies and deck them out daintily, to arrange their hair in wanton -wise and don light raiment. And it may well be said how that these new -changes in dress and ways do all aim at one and the same thing, to wit -lasciviousness, and to people the earth with cuckoos a-walking about -thereon, to match the winged ones that the air of heaven doth produce -in these same months of April and May. - -Further, ’tis not to be supposed but that fair dames, maids and widows -alike, whenas they do behold in their walks abroad in their forests and -woods, their warrens, parks, meadows, gardens, shrubberies and other -pleasaunces, beasts and birds all a-making love together and sporting -in wanton wise, should feel strange prickings in their flesh, which do -make them fain to apply instant remedy for the smart. And this is just -one of the persuasive and moving things that a many lovers are wont -to say one to the other, when they see their mates lacking heat and -flame and zest; for then do they upbraid them, pointing to the example -of beasts and birds, the which whether wild or tame, as sparrows and -house-pigeons, are ever at some wanton sport, ever engendering and -conceiving, all nature at the work of reproduction, down to the very -trees and plants. Now this is what a fair Spanish lady found one day -to say to a cavalier who was over cold or over respectful: _Sa, gentil -cavallero, mira como los amores de todas suertes se tratan y triumfan -en este verano, y V. S. quada flaco y abatido_, that is to say, “See, -Sir cavalier, how every sort of love doth prevail and triumph in this -Spring-time; yet all the while you are slack and crest-fallen.” - -Spring-time ended doth give place to Summer, which cometh after, -bringing its hot days with it. And seeing one heat doth provoke -another, fair dames do thereby double theirs; and truly no refreshment -can so well assuage the same as a _bain chaud et trouble de sperme -venerig_. ’Tis in no wise contrary to sense for an ill to be medicined -by its contrary, as like is medicined by like. For albeit a woman -should bathe her every day, and every day plunge in the clearest -fountain of a whole countryside, yet do this naught avail, nor yet -the lightest garments ever she can don, for to give her refreshing -coolness, though she tuck them up as short as she please, without -ever a petticoat, as many do in hot weather.[109*] And this is just -the worst of it; for in such costume are they drawn to look at -themselves, and take delight in their own beauty, and pore over their -own charms in the fair sunlight, and thus beholding their bodies so -fair, white, smooth, plump and in good case, do of a sudden feel the -heat of concupiscence and sore temptation. But indeed of such martyrs -of continence mighty few have ever been known; and silly fools would -they have been, had it been otherwise. And so they lie there in their -fine beds, unable to endure coverlet or sheet, but tucking up their -very shifts to display themselves half naked; then at daybreak, as the -rising sun doth shine in on them and they come to contemplate their -bodies more closely still and at their ease on all sides and in every -part, they grow exceeding fain after their lovers and fondly wait -their coming. And so, should these by any hap arrive at this moment, -lo! they are right welcome, and very soon clipped in their arms and -close embraced. “For then,” say they, “is the very best embracement and -enjoyment of any hour of day or night.” - -None the less is there an old proverb which saith: “June and July, -mouth wet and body dry;” and to these may be added the month of August -likewise. The same is true also of men, who are in a parlous state -when they do get overheated at these seasons, and in especial when the -dog-star is in the ascendant,—a thing they should beware of. But if -they _will_ burn at their own candle, well! so much the worse for them! -Women run no such risk, for that every month, and every season, every -time and every planet, are good for them. - -Then again the good summer fruits appear, that seem as if they must -refresh these worthy dames. Some I have noted to eat little of these, -others much. Yet for all this, scarce any change is seen in their heat, -whether they eat much or little, whether they refrain altogether or -eat thereof freely. For the worst of it is that, if there be sundry -fruits which have power to refresh, there are many others that have -just as powerful a heating effect,—to the which the ladies do most -often resort, as also to sundry simples that be of their nature good -and pleasant to eat in soups and salads, as for example asparagus, -artichokes, morels, truffles, mushrooms, and pumpkins. Then there be -sundry newfangled viands which the cooks, at their orders, do well know -how to contrive and accommodate at once to their gourmandise and their -wanton desires, and which doctors likewise are cunning in ordering -them. But if only some wise gallant, expert in these mysteries, would -undertake to complete this poor account of mine, he might well fulfil -the task far better than I can. - -After all these fine dainties, look to yourselves, that’s all, poor -lovers and husbands! Verily if you be not well prepared, you are very -like to be disgraced, and find the fair ones have left you for pastures -new. - -Nor is this all; for to these new fruits, and herbs of garden and -field, must be added great rich pasties, an invention of late times, -compounded of great store of pistachio nuts, pine-seeds and other -inflammatory drugs of the apothecary’s store, the which Summer doth -produce and give in greater abundance than Winter and the other -seasons. Moreover in Summer time is there usually a greater slaughter -of cockerels and young cocks; whereas in Winter ’tis rather the grown -birds, that are not so good or so fitting for this as the young ones, -these last being hotter, more ardent and more wanton than the other -sort. Here is one, amongst many, of the good pleasures and conveniences -that Summer-tide doth afford for lovers. - -Now these pasties compounded in this wise of dainty trifles, of young -cocks and the tips of artichokes and truffles, or other heating viands, -are much used by many ladies, by what I hear said. And these same -ladies, when they are eating thereof and a-fishing in the platter, -putting their hand into the mess or plunging a fork therein, will -bring out and clap in their mouth now an artichoke or a truffle, now -a pistachio-nut or a cockscomb or other morsel, and at any of these -will cry out with a look of sad disappointment, “Bah! a blank.” But -when they come across one of the dear cock’s crests, and find these -under their teeth, lo! they do exclaim, “A prize, by’r lady!” and laugh -gaily. ’Tis like at the lottery in Italy; and a man might deem they -had drawn a real prize and won some rich and precious jewel. - -Well! they surely owe good thanks to these same good little cockerels, -which Summer doth produce,—as doth the first half of Autumn likewise, -the which season I put along with Summer. The same time of each year -doth give us many other sorts of fruits and small fowl that are an -hundred times more hot than those of Winter-tide or the second half -of Autumn, the near neighbour of chill Winter. True this is reckoned -part of the season of Autumn; yet can we not gather therein all these -excellent simples at their best nor aught else as in the hot time of -the year. Yet doth Winter ever endeavour to supply what it may,—for -instance those good thistles which do engender an excellent heat -and concupiscence, whether raw or cooked, including the little hot -field thistles, on the which asses live and thrive and are vigorous -love-makers. These Summer doth harden and dry up, whereas Winter doth -make the same tender and delicate. Exceeding good salads are made of -these,—a new invented delicacy. - -Furthermore, and beside all these things, so many other serviceable -drugs are sought out by apothecaries, dealers and perfumers, that -naught is overlooked, whether for these same pasties or for soups. And -of a surety good justification may be found by women for this keeping -up and maintaining of the heat in Winter time all ever they can. “For,” -say they, “just as we are careful to maintain the heat of the outside -of the body by heavy clothing and thick furs, why shall we not do the -same for the inside?” The men say on their side, “Nay! what availeth -it thus to add heat to heat, like putting silk on silk, contrary to -the Canons, seeing of their own selves they be hot enough already, -and that at whatsoever hour we are fain to assail them, they be always -ready by their natural complexion, without resort to any artificial aid -at all?” What would you have? Mayhap ’tis that they fear their hot and -boiling blood will lose strength and ebb in their veins, and grow chill -and icy, and if it be not kept hot, like that of an hermit that liveth -on roots alone. - -Well! well! let them have their way. ’Tis all good for merry gallants; -for women being so constantly in ardour, at the smallest assailment -of love upon them, lo! they are taken at once, and the poor husbands -cuckold and horned like satyrs! Nay! sometimes they will go still -further, these worthy dames, for that they do sometimes share their -good pasties, broths and soups with their lovers out of compassion, to -the end these may be more doughty and not find themselves overexhausted -when it cometh to work, and so themselves may enjoy more exciting and -abundant pleasure. Likewise will they give them receipts to have dishes -compounded privately in their own kitchens. But herein have some been -sore deceived and disappointed. Thus a certain gallant gentleman I -have heard tell of, having in this wise taken his special soup and -coming all cock-a-whoop to accost his mistress, did threat her how -that he would give it her soundly, telling her he had taken his soup -and eat his pasty. She did merely answer him, “Well! you shall prove -your worth; at present I know naught about it.” Presently, when they -were now in each other’s arms and at work, these dainties did but serve -him poorly. Whereon the lady did declare that either his cook had -compounded them ill, or had been niggardly of the drugs and ingredients -needed, or else he had not made all due preparation before taking his -sovran medicine, or mayhap his body was for that while ill disposed to -take it and feel the proper effects thereof. Thus did she make mock of -the poor man. - -Still ’tis to be remembered all simples and all drugs, all viands and -all medicines, are not suitable for all alike. With some they will -operate, while others do but draw blank. Moreover I have known women -which, eating of these viands, when ’twas cast up to them how they -would surely by this means have extraordinary and excessive enjoyment, -could yet declare, and affirm the same on oath, that such diet did -never cause them any temptation of any sort whatever. But God wot, they -must herein surely have been playing the pretended prude! - -Now as to the claims of Winter, ladies that do champion this season, -maintain that for soups and hot viands, they do know as good receipts -for to make these every whit as good in Winter time as at any other -part of the year. They do possess ample experience, and do declare -this season very meet for love-making. True it is Winter is dim and -dark, close, quiet, retired and secret, yet so must love be, and be -performed in secret, in some retired and darkling spot,—whether in a -closet apart, or in a chimney corner near a good fire, the which doth -engender, by keeping close thereto and for a considerable while, as -much good heat as ever the Summer can provoke. Then how it is in the -dimly lit space betwixt bed and wall, where the eyes of the company, -provided they be near the fire a-warming of themselves, do but hardly -penetrate, or else seated on chests or beds in remote corners, so to -enjoy dalliance. For seeing man and maid pressing the one to the other, -folk deem ’tis but because of the cold and to keep them warm. Yet in -this wise are fine things done, when the lights are far withdrawn on a -distant table or sideboard. - -Besides, which is best, Summer or Winter, when one is in bed? ’Tis the -greatest delight in all the world for lovers, man and maid, to cling -together and kiss close, to entwine one with other, for fear of the -nipping cold, and this not for a brief space but for a long while, and -so right pleasantly warm each other,—all this without feeling aught -at all of the excessive heat Summer doth provoke, and that extreme of -sweating that doth sore hinder the carrying out of love. For truly -in Summer time, instead of embracing tight and pressing together and -squeezing close, a pair must needs hold loosely and much apart. Then -Winter is best in this, say the ladies, according to the doctors: men -are more meet for love, more ardent and devoted thereto, in Winter than -in Summer. - -I knew once in former days a very great Princess, who was possessed -of much wit, and both spake and wrote better than most. One day she -did set herself to compose verses in favour and praise of Winter, and -the meetness of that season for love. By this we may conceive herself -had found it highly favourable and fitting for the same. These stanzas -were very well composed, and I had them long preserved in my study. -Would I had valued them more, and could find them now, to give the same -here, to the end men might read therein and mark the great merits of -Wintertide and the good properties and meetness for love of that season. - -I knew another very high-born lady, and one of the fairest women in -all the world, which being new widowed, and making pretence she cared -not, in view of her new weeds and state of widowhood, to go of evenings -after supper either to visit the Court, or the dance, or the Queen’s -_couchée_, and was fain not to seem worldly-minded, did never leave -her chamber, but suffering all and sundry of her attendants, male and -female, to hie them to the dance, and her son and every soul about -her, or even actually sending them thither, would retire to her secret -chamber. And thither her lover of old, well treated, loved and favoured -of her in her married life, would presently arrive. Or else, having -supped with her, he would stay on and never leave her, sitting out a -certain brother-in-law, who was much by way of guarding the fair lady -from ill. So there would they practise and renew their former loves, -and indulge in new ones preparatory to a second wedlock, the which was -duly accomplished the following Summer. Well! by all I can see after -duly considering the circumstances, I do believe no other season could -have been so favourable for their projects as Winter was, as indeed I -did overhear one of her dainty, intriguing maids also declare. - -So now, to draw to an end, I do maintain and declare: that all seasons -be meet for love, when they be chosen suitably, and so as to accord -with the caprice of the men and women which do adopt the same. For -just as War, that is Mars’ pastime, is made at all seasons and times, -and just as the God doth give his victories as it pleaseth him, and -according as he doth find his fighting men well armed and of good -spirit to offer battle, so doth Venus in like wise, according as she -doth find her bands of lovers, men and maids, well disposed for the -fray. Indeed the seasons have scarce aught to do therewith, and which -of them is taken and which chosen doth make but little difference. Nor -yet do their simples, or fruits, their drugs, or drug-dealers, nor any -artifice or device that women do resort to, much avail them, whether to -augment their heat, or to refresh and cool the same. - -For indeed, as to this last, I do know a great lady, whose mother, -from her childhood up, seeing her of a complexion so hot and lecherous -that it was like to take her one fine day straight on the road to the -brothel, did make her use sorrel-juice constantly by the space of -thirty years regularly at all her meals, whether with her meat or in -her soups and broths, or to drink great two-handled bowls full thereof -unmixed with other viands; in one word every sauce she did taste was -sorrel-juice, sorrel-juice, everlastingly. Yet were these mysterious -and cooling devices all in vain, for she ended by becoming a right -famous and most arrant harlot,—one that had never need of those pasties -I have spoke of above to give her heat of body, seeing she had enough -and to spare of her own. Yet is this lady as greedy as any to eat of -these same dishes! - -Well! I must needs make an end, albeit I could have said much more -and alleged many more good reasons and instances. But we must not be -for ever gnawing contentedly at the same bone; and I would fain hand -over my pen to another and better writer than myself, to argue out the -merits of the divers seasons. I will only name the wish and longing a -worthy Spanish dame did once express. The same did wish and desire it -to be Winter when her love time should be, and her lover a fire, to -the end that when she should come to warm herself at him and be rid of -the bitter cold she should feel, he might enjoy the delight of warming -her, and she of absorbing his heat as she did get warm. Moreover she -would so have opportunity of displaying and exposing herself to him -often and at her ease, that he might enjoy the sight of her lovely -limbs hid before under her linen and skirts, as to warm herself the -more thoroughly, and keep up her other, internal, fire and heat of -concupiscence. - -Next she did wish for Spring to come, and her lover to be a garden full -of flowers, with the which she might deck her head and her beautiful -throat and bosom, yea! and roll her lovely body among them between the -sheets. - -Likewise she did oftimes wish it to be Summer, and her lover a clear -fountain or glittering stream, for to receive her in his fair, fresh -waters, when she should go to bathe therein and take sport, and so -fully and completely to let him see, touch over and over again, each of -her lovely, wanton limbs. - -Finally she did desire it to be Autumn, for him to return once more -to his proper shape, and she to be a woman and her lover a man, that -both might in that season have wit, sense and reason to contemplate -and remember over all the by-gone happiness, and so live in these -delightsome memories and reveries of the past, and inquire and -discourse betwixt them which season had been most meet and pleasant for -their loves. - -In such wise was this lady used to apportion and adjudge the seasons. -Wherein I do refer me to the decision of better informed writers than -myself to say which of the four was like to be in its qualities most -delightful and agreeable to the twain. - - * * * * * - -Now for good and all I do make an end of this present subject. If -any will know further thereof and learn more of the divers humours -of cuckolds, let him study an old song which was made at Court some -fifteen or sixteen years agone, concerning cuckolds, whereof this is -the burden: - - Un cocu meine l’autre, et tousjours sont en peine; - Un cocu meine l’autre. - - (One cuckoo maketh many, and all are in sorry case; - one cuckoo many maketh.) - -I beg all honourable ladies which shall read any of my tales in this -chapter, if byhap they do pay any heed to the same, to forgive me -and if they be somewhat highly spiced, for that I could scarce have -disguised them in more modest fashion, seeing the sauce such must needs -have. And I will say further I could well have cited others still more -extravagant and diverting, were it not that, finding it impossible to -cover the same with any veil of decent modesty, I was afeared to offend -such honourable ladies as shall be at the pains and do me the honour to -read my books. Now will I add but one thing further, to wit, that these -tales which I have here set down are no petty stories of market-town -and village gossip, but do come from high and worthy sources, and deal -not with common and humble personages. I have cared not to have aught -to do but only with great and high subjects, albeit I have dealt with -such discreetly; and as I name no names, I think I have well avoided -all scandal and cause of offence. - - Femmes, qui transformez vos marys en oyseaux, - Ne vous en lassez point, la forme en est très-belle; - Car, si vous les laissez en leurs premières peaux, - Ilz voudront vous tenir toujours en curatelle, - Et comme hommes voudront user de leur puissance; - Au lieu qu’estant oyseaux, ne vous feront d’offense. - - (Ladies fair, which do transform your husbands into birds, weary not - of the task, the shape they so take is a right convenient one. For if - you do leave them in their first skins, they will for ever keep you - under watch and ward, and manlike will fain to use their power over - you; whereas being birds, they will do you no offence.) - -Another Song: - - Ceux qui voudront blasmer les femmes amiables - Qui font secrètement leurs bons marys cornards, - Les blasment à grand tort, et ne sont que bavards; - Car elles font l’aumosne et sont fort charitables. - En gardant bien la loy à l’aumosne donner, - Ne faut en hypocrit la trompette sonner. - - (They that will be blaming well meaning wives which do in secret - give their husbands horns, these do much wrong by their reproaches, - and are but vain babblers; for indeed such dames are but giving alms - and showing good charity. They do well observe the Christian law of - almsgiving,—never, like the hypocrites, sound the trumpet to proclaim - your good deeds!) - -An old Rhyme on the Game of Love,—found by the Author among some old -papers: - - Le jeu d’amours, où jeunesse s’esbat, - A un tablier se peut accomparer. - Sur un tablier les dames on abat; - Puis il convient le trictrac préparer, - Et en celui ne faut que se parer. - Plusieurs font Jean. N’est-ce pas jeu honneste, - Qui par nature un joueur admoneste - Passer le temps de cœur joyeusement? - Mais en défaut de trouver la raye nette, - Il s’en ensuit un grand jeu de torment. - - (The game of love, whereat youth takes its delight, may be likened - to a chess-board. On a chess-board we lay down the pieces,—_dames_, - ladies; then ’tis the time to marshal our men, and herein we have but - to make the best game we can. Many play the masterful king; and is it - not merely fair play, and an abomination of dame Nature, that a man - should make his game in hearty, joyous wise? But should he fail to - find a sound queen (quean), why! his game is like to end in woeful - pain and sorrow.[110]) - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - SECOND DISCOURSE - - On the question which doth give the more content in - love, whether touching, seeing or speaking. - - - INTRODUCTION - -This is a question as concerning love that might well deserve a more -profound and deeper writer to solve than I, to wit: which doth afford -the more contentment in the fruition of love, whether contact or -attouchment, speech, or sight. Mr. Pasquier,[111] a great authority of -a surety in jurisprudence the which is his especial profession, as well -as in the polite and humane sciences, doth give a disquisition thereon -in his letters, the which he hath left us in writing. Yet hath he been -by far too brief, and seeing how distinguished a man he is, he should -not in this matter have shown himself so niggard of his wise words as -he hath been. For if only he had seen good to enlarge somewhat thereon, -and frankly to declare what he might well have told us, his letter -which he hath indited on this point had been an hundred times more -delightsome and agreeable. - -He doth base his main discourse on sundry ancient rhymes of the Comte -Thibaut de Champagne,[111] the which verses I have never set eyes -on, save only the small fragment that M. Pasquier doth quote in his -letter. This same good and gallant Knight of yore doth, I conceive, -write exceeding well,—not certainly in such good set terms as do our -gallant poets of to-day, but still with excellent good sense and sound -reason. Moreover he had a right beauteous and worthy subject, to wit -the fair Queen Blanche of Castille, mother of Saint-Louis, of whom he -was not little enamoured, but indeed most deeply, and had taken her -for his mistress. But in this what blame or what reproach for the said -Queen? Though she had been the most prudent and virtuous of women, yet -could she in any wise hinder the world from loving her and burning at -the fire of her beauty and high qualities, seeing it is the nature of -all merit and high perfection to provoke love? The whole secret is not -to yield blindly to the will of the lover. - -This is why we must not deem it strange, or blame this fair Queen, -if that she was too fondly loved, and that during her reign and -sovereignty there did prevail in France sore divisions and seditions -and much civil strife. For, as I have heard said by a very great -personage, seditions be oft stirred up as much for intrigues of love -as by embroilments of State; and in the days of our fathers was -current an old saw, which said that: All the world went mad after the -merry-hearted Queen. - -I know not for sure of which Queen this word was said; but it may well -be ’twas pronounced by this same Comte Thibaut, who very like, either -because he was treated ill of her as concerning that he was fain of, or -that his love was scorned altogether, or another preferred before him, -did conceive in his heart such a disgust and discontent as did urge him -to his ruin in the wars and troubles of the time. So doth it often -fall out when a fair and high-born Queen or Princess or great lady doth -set her to govern a State, that every man doth love to serve her, and -to honour and pay respect to her, as well for the good happiness of -being agreeable to her and high in her favour, as to the end he may -boast him of governing and ruling the State along with her, and drawing -profit therefrom. I could allege many examples, but I had liever -refrain.[112*] - -Be this as it may, this Comte Thibaut did find inducement in the fair -subject I have named to write excellent verses, and mayhap to pose the -question which M. Pasquier doth cite for us. To this latter I do refer -the curious reader, and do say naught here of rhymes good or ill; for -’twould be pure waste of words so to do. ’Twill be enough for me at -this present to declare what I think thereanent, whether of mine own -judgment or of that of other more experienced lovers than I. - - - 1. - - OF THE SENSE OF TOUCH IN LOVE - -Now as to touch, it must be allowed that touching is very delightsome, -for that the perfection of love is to enjoy the delight thereof, and -the said enjoyment cannot be had without touching. For even as hunger -and thirst can in no wise be assuaged or appeased except by eating and -drinking, so too doth not love pass by dint either of seeing or hearing -only, but by touching, kissing and the practice of Venus’ rites. To -this did that witty coxcomb Diogenes the Cynic allude facetiously, yet -somewhat nastily, when he said he only wished he could relieve his -hunger by rubbing his belly, even as _frottant la verge_ he did appease -the paroxysm of desire. I would fain have put this in plainer words, -but ’tis a thing must needs be passed over trippingly. He was something -like that lover of Lamia,[113*] who having been too extravagantly -fleeced by her to be able to enjoy her love any more, could not or -would not consent to lose the pleasure of her. Wherefore he did devise -this plan: he would think of her, and so thinking corrupt himself, and -in this fashion enjoy her in imagination. But she hearing of this, did -summon him before the Judge to render her satisfaction and payment for -his enjoyment. Whereupon the Judge did order that he should but _show_ -her the money, whose sound and tinkle would be payment enough, and she -would so enjoy the gold in imagination just as the other in dreams and -fancy had had the gratification of _his_ desire. - -True, many other sorts of love may be alleged against what I say, the -which the old philosophers do feign; but for these I do refer me to -these same philosophers and the like subtle persons who will fain be -discussing such points. In any case forasmuch as the fruit of mere -earthly love is no other thing but enjoyment thereof, it must needs be -deemed to be rightly attained only by dint of touching and kissing. So -likewise have many held this pleasure to be but thin and poor, apart -from seeing and speaking; whereof we have a good example in the _Cent -Nouvelles_ of the Queen of Navarre. An honourable gentleman, having -several separate times enjoyed the favours of a certain honourable -lady, at night time and disguised with a small hand-mask, (for regular -masks as now used were not yet employed), in a dark, ill-lighted -gallery or passage, albeit he was right well assured by the sense of -touch there was nothing here but what was good, tasty and exquisite, -yet was not content, but was fain to know with whom he had to do. -Wherefore one day as he was a-kissing her and did hold her in his -arms, he did make a mark with chalk on the back of her gown, which -was of black velvet; and then in the evening after supper, (for their -assignations were at a certain fixed hour), as the ladies were coming -into the ball-room, he did place himself behind the door. Thus noting -them attentively as they passed in, he saw his own fair one enter with -the chalk mark on her shoulder; and lo! it was such an one as he would -never have dreamed of, for in mien and face and words she might have -been taken for the very Wisdom of Solomon, and by that name the Queen -was wont to describe her. - -Who then was thunderstruck? Who but the gentleman, by reason of his -great good fortune, thus loved of a woman which he had deemed least -like so to yield of all the ladies of the Court? True it is he was fain -to go further, and not stop at this; for he did much desire to discover -all, and know wherefore she was so set on hiding herself from him, -and would lief have herself thus served under cover and by stealth. -But she, crafty and wily as she was, did deny and re-deny everything, -to the renunciation of her share in Paradise and the damnation of her -immortal soul,—as is the way of women, when we will throw in their -faces love secrets they had rather not have known, albeit we be certain -of the fact, and they be otherwise most truthtelling. - -She grew angry at his persistence; and in this way did the gentleman -lose his good fortune. For good it was of a surety, seeing the lady -was a great lady and well worth winning. Moreover as she was for -playing the sugared, chaste, demure prude, herein he might well have -found double pleasure,—part for the sensual enjoyment of so sweet, -good and delicate a morsel, part that of gazing at her oft times in -company, with her demure, coy mien, her cold and modest look and her -conversation all chaste, strict and precise, thinking the while in his -own mind of her wanton ways, her gay abandonment and naughtiness whenas -they two were alone together. - -Thus we see the said gentleman was much at fault to have asked her any -questions. Rather should he have steadily pursued his pleasure and -eaten his meat in quiet, just as tasty without candle at all as if -illuminated by all the lights of a festal chamber. Still he had a right -to know who she was! and in a way his inquisitiveness was praiseworthy, -seeing, as the Tale doth declare, he was afeared he had to do with some -kind of demon. For devils of the sort love to change shape and take the -form of women for to have intercourse with men, and do so deceive them -sore. However, as I have heard sundry skilled in magic arts declare, -such do find it more easy to take on the shape and countenance of a -woman than to imitate her speech. - -And this is why the said gentleman was right in wishing to see and -know with whom he had to do; and by what he said himself, ’twas her -refraining altogether from speech that did cause him more apprehension -than what he saw, and did set him on thinking of the Devil. And herein -he but showed a proper fear of God. - -But surely, after having discovered all the truth, he should have said -never a word. But, nay! another will say to this, friendship and love -be not perfect but when openly declared of heart and mouth; and for -this cause the gentleman would fain have told her his passion. Anyhow -he did gain naught thereby; but rather lost all. Moreover by any who -had known the real honour of this gentleman, he will be excused, for -he was in no wise so cold or so discreet as naturally to play this -game and display such overcaution; and by what I have heard my mother -say, which was in the service of the Queen of Navarre, and did know -sundry secrets concerning the _Nouvelles_, and was one of the devisers -of this work, the hero of the Tale was my own uncle, the late M. de la -Chastaigneraie, a man of a rough, ready and somewhat fickle disposition. - -The Tale is so disguised however as to carefully hide who it was; for -in reality the said mine Uncle was never in the service of the great -Princess, the mistress of the lady in question, though he was in that -of the King, her brother. And so he did continue, for he was much loved -both of the King and the Princess. As for the lady, I will by no means -tell her name; but she was a widow and lady-in-waiting to a very great -Princess, and one that was better at showing the part of a prude than -of a Court lady. - -I have heard tell of another Court lady under our late Sovereigns, and -one I do know by acquaintance, who being enamoured of a very honourable -gentleman of the Court, was fain to imitate the way of love adopted by -the aforenamed lady. But every time she did return from her assignation -and rendez-vous, she would betake her to her chamber and there have -herself examined by one of her maids or chamberwomen on all sides, to -make sure she was not marked; by the which means she did guard herself -from being discovered and recognized. Nor was she ever marked until -the ninth time of meeting, when the mark was at once discovered and -noted by her women. Wherefore, for dread of being brought to shame -and falling into disgrace, she did break it all off, and never after -returned to the tryst. - -It had been better worth her while, it may be suggested, to have let -her lover make these marks at his good pleasure, and then, directly -they were made, have unmade and rubbed out the same. In this way she -would have had double pleasure,—first of the amorous delight enjoyed, -and secondly that of making mock of her man, who was so keen to -discover his philosopher’s stone, to wit to find out and recognize her, -yet could never succeed. - -I have heard tell of another in the days of King Francis in connection -with that handsome Squire, Gruffy by name, which was a squire of the -Stable under the said King, and died at Naples in the suite of M. de -Lantric on his journey thither. The dame in question was a very great -lady of the Court and did fall deep in love with him; for indeed he -was exceedingly handsome, and was commonly known by no other title -than _the handsome Gruffy_. I have seen the man’s portrait, which doth -certainly show him to have been so.[114*] - -She did secretly summon one day her valet of the chamber, in whom she -had trust, but yet a man unknown to most by sight, into her closet. -This man she did charge to go tell Gruffy, the messenger being -handsomely dressed to seem to be one of her gentlemen, that a very -honourable and fair lady did send him greeting, and that she was so -smit with love for him she did greatly desire his acquaintance,—more -than that of any man at court. Yet must it be under this condition -that for nothing in all the wide world must he see her or discover who -she was. But at the hour of retiring, and when every member of the -Court should be abed, he would come for him and meet him at a certain -spot he would indicate, and from whence he would lead him to the -chamber of his lady. However there was yet a further condition, to wit -that he was to muffle his eyes in a fair white kerchief, like a trumpet -led into an enemy’s city at a truce, to the end he might not see nor -recognize the place and chamber wither he was to lead him, and that he -was to hold him by the hands all the time to hinder him from undoing -the said kerchief. For such were the conditions his mistress had -ordered him to offer, to the end she might not be known of him before a -certain fixed and given time which he did name and appoint to him. All -which being so, he was to ponder it over and decide at leisure whether -he would agree to the said conditions, and was to let the messenger -know his answer the next day. For he said he would come for him then -at a certain place he did name; but above all he must be alone. And -he said he would take him on so good an errand he would never regret -having gone on the same. - -Truly an agreeable assignation, but conjoined with strange conditions! -I like no less that of a Spanish lady, which did summon one to a -meeting, but with the charge he should bring with him thither three -S.S.S.,[115*] which were to signify _sabio_, _solo_, _segreto_, -“prudent, alone and secret.” The other did assure her he would come, -but that she should adorn and furnish herself with three F.F.F., that -is she must not be _fea_, _flaca_ nor _fria_, “ill-favoured, slack nor -cold.” - -To return to Gruffy’s story,—the go-between now left him, having -delivered his message. Who so embarrassed and full of thought as he? -Indeed, he had much cause for thought, whether it were not a trick -played him by some enemy at Court, to bring him into trouble,—his death -mayhap or at least the King’s displeasure. He pondered too what lady it -could be, tall, short or of middle stature, well or ill favoured,—which -last did most trouble him, though truly all cats be grey at night time, -they say, and all spots alike in the dark. However, after confiding -the matter to one of his intimate comrades, he did resolve to try -the risk, deeming that to win the love of a great lady, which he did -conclude her to be, he must suffer no fear or apprehension to stay him. -Wherefore the next night, when the King, the Queen and her ladies, -all the gentlemen and ladies of the Court, were retired to bed, he -made no fail to be at the spot the messenger had appointed him. The -latter in likewise soon came for him there with a companion to help -him keep guard, if the other were followed neither by page, lackey nor -gentleman. The instant he saw him, he said this only, “Come, Sir! the -lady waits you.” Then in a moment he bound his eyes, and did conduct -him through dark, narrow places and unknown passages, in such wise that -the other told him frankly he had no notion whither he was taking him. -Thus did he introduce him to the lady’s chamber, which was so dim and -dark he could see or distinguish naught therein, no more than in an -oven. - -Well, there he did find the lady smelling right sweet and richly -perfumed, the which made him hope for some dainty treat. Whereupon -the valet did straightway make him disrobe, and himself aided him; -and next led him by the hand, after taking off the kerchief from his -face, to the lady’s bed, who was awaiting him with right good will. -Then did he lay himself down beside her, and began to caress her, in -the which he found naught but what was good and delicious, as well her -skin as her linen and magnificent bed, which he did explore with his -hands. So with right merry cheer did he spend his night with the fair -lady. I have heard her name, but will not repeat it. In a word he was -well and thoroughly satisfied at all points; and recognized how he was -excellently well lodged for the night. The only thing that troubled -him, he said, was that he could never draw one single word out of her. -She took good heed of this, seeing he was used oft times to speak with -her by day, as with other Court ladies, and so would have known her -voice directly. Yet at the same time, of frolickings and fondlings, -handlings and caresses, and every sort of love shows and wantonness, -she was most lavish; and he did find his entertainment much to his mind. - -Next morning at break of day the messenger did not fail to come and -wake him, make him get up, and dress him, then bind eyes as before, -lead him back to the spot whence he had taken him, and commend him to -God till his next return, which he promised should be soon. Nor did -he omit to ask him if he had lied at all, and if he were not glad to -have trusted him, and whether he thought he had showed himself a good -quartermaster, and had found him good harbourage. - -The handsome Gruffy, after thanking him an hundred times, bade him -farewell, saying he would always be ready to come back again for -such good entertainment, and would be very willing to return when he -pleased. This did he, and the merry doings continued a whole month, -at the end of which time it behoved Gruffy to depart on his Naples -journey. So he took leave of his mistress and bade her adieu with much -regret, yet without drawing one single word from her lips, but only -sighs and the tears which he did note to flow from her eyes. The end -was he did finally leave her without in the least recognizing her or -discovering who she was. - -Since then ’tis said this lady did practice the same way of life with -two or three others in similar fashion, in this manner taking her -enjoyment. And some declared she was fain to adopt this crafty device, -because that she was very niggardly, and in this wise did spare her -substance, and was not liable to make gifts to her lovers. For in -truth is every great lady bound by her honour to give, be it much or -little, whether money or rings or jewels or it may be richly wrought -favours. In this way the gallant dame was able to afford her person -disport, yet spare her purse, merely by never revealing who she was; -and by this means could incur no reproof in relation to either of her -purses, whether the natural or the artificial, as she did never let her -identity be known. A sorry humour truly for a high-born dame to indulge! - -Some will doubtless find her method good, while others will blame her, -and others again deem her a very astute person. Certain folk will -esteem her an excellent manager and a wise, but for myself I do refer -me to others better qualified to form a good judgement thereon than -I. At any rate she can in no wise incur such severe censure as that -notorious Queen which did dwell in the Hôtel de Nesle at Paris.[116] -This wicked woman did keep watch on the passers-by, and such as liked -her for their looks and pleased her best, whatsoever sort of folk they -were, she would have summoned to her side. Then after having gotten of -them what she would, she did have them cast down from the Tower, the -which is yet standing, into the water beneath, and so drowned them.[117] - -I cannot say for sure if this be a true tale. At any rate the common -folk, at least the most of them at Paris, do declare it is. And so -familiar is the tale, that if one but point to the Tower, and ask about -it, they will of their own accord recount the story. - -Well, let us quit these unholy loves, which be nothing better than -sheer monstrosities. The better part of our ladies of to-day do abhor -such, as they are surely right to do, preferring to have free and frank -intercourse with their lovers and not to deal with them as though they -were of stone or marble. Rather, having well and carefully chosen them, -they know well how to be bravely and generously served and loved of -them. Then when they have thoroughly tried their fidelity and loyalty, -they do give themselves up to an ardent love with them, and take their -pleasure with the same not masked, nor silent, nor dumb, nor yet in -the darkness of night and mystery. Nay! but in the free and open light -of day they do suffer them to see, touch, taste and kiss their fair -bodies, entertaining them the while with fine, lecherous discourse, -merry, naughty words and wanton conversation. Yet sometimes will -they have recourse to masks; for there be ladies which are at times -constrained to wear them when a-doing of it, whether it be on account -of sun-burn they do so, for fear of spoiling their complexion, or for -other causes. Or they may use them to the end that, if they do get -too hot in the work, and are suddenly surprised, their red cheeks may -escape note, and the disorder of their countenances. I have known such -cases. But the mask doth hide all, and so they befool the world. - - - 2. - - OF THE POWER OF SPEECH IN LOVE - -I have heard many fair ladies and cavaliers which have practised love -declare how that, but for sight and speech, they had rather be like -brute beasts, that following a mere natural appetite of the senses, -have no thought of love or affection, but only to satisfy their sensual -rage and animal heat. - -Likewise have I heard many lords and gallants which have lain with -high-born ladies say, that they have ever found these an hundred times -more lascivious and outspoken in words than common women and the like. -Herein do they show much art, seeing it is impossible for a man, be -he as vigorous as he may, to be always hard at the collar and in full -work. So when the lover cometh to lie still and relax his efforts, -he doth find it so pleasant and so appetizing whenas his lady doth -entertain him with naughty tales and words of wit and wantonness, that -Venus, no matter how soundly put to sleep for the time being, is of a -sudden waked up again. Nay! more, many ladies, conversing with their -lovers in company, whether in the apartments of Queens and Princesses -or elsewhere, will strangely lure them on, for that they will be saying -such lascivious and enticing words to them that both men and women will -be just as wanton as in a bed together. Yet all the while we that be -onlookers will deem their conversation to be of quite other matters. - -This again is the reason why Mark Antony did so love Cleopatra and -preferred her before his own wife Octavia, who was an hundred times -more beautiful and lovable than the Egyptian Queen. But this Cleopatra -was mistress of such happy phrases and such witty conversation, with -such wanton ways and seductive graces, that Antony did forget all else -for love of her. - -Plutarch doth assure us, speaking of sundry quips and tricks of tongue -she was used to make such pretty play withal, that Mark Antony, when -he would fain imitate her, was in his bearing (albeit he was only too -anxious to play the gallant lover) like naught so much as a common -soldier or rough man-at-arms, as compared with her and her brilliant -ways of talk.[118*] - -Pliny doth relate a story of her which I think excellent, and so I will -repeat the same here in brief. One day, being in one of her wildest -moods, she was attired most enticingly and to great advantage, and -especially did wear on her head a garland of divers blossoms most -suitable to provoke wanton imaginings. Well, as they sat at table, -and Mark Antony was fain to drink, she did amuse him with pleasant -discourse, and meanwhile all the time she spake, she kept plucking out -one by one fair flowers from her garland (but they were really strewed -over every one with poisonous essences), and tossing the same from time -to time into the cup Antony held ready to drink from. Presently when -she had ended her discourse and Mark Antony was on the point of lifting -the goblet to his lips to drink, Cleopatra doth stay him suddenly with -her hand, and having stationed some slave or condemned criminal ready -to hand, she did call this fellow to her and made them give him the -draught Mark Antony was about to swallow. On drinking this he fell down -dead; and she turning to Antony, said, “And if I did not love you as I -do, I should e’en now have been rid of you; yea! and would gladly have -had it so, only that I see plainly I cannot live without you.” These -words and this device were well fitted to confirm Mark Antony in his -passion, and to make him even more submissive before his charmer’s feet. - -In such ways did her cleverness of tongue serve Cleopatra, whom all the -Historians do describe as having been exceedingly ready of speech. Mark -Antony was used never to call her anything but “the Queen,” by way of -greater distinction. So he did write to Octavius Cæsar, previous to the -time when they were declared open enemies: “What hath changed you,” he -writes, “concerning my loving the Queen? She is my wife. Is it but now -I have begun the connection? You fondle Drusilla, Tortalé, Leontiphé -and a dozen others; what reck you on whom you do bestow your favour, -when the caprice seizeth you?” - -In this letter Mark Antony was for extolling his own constancy, and -reproaching the other’s changeableness, for loving so many women at -once, while himself did love only the Queen. And I only wonder Octavius -did not love her too after Antony’s death. It may well be he had his -pleasure when he had her come alone to his chamber, and he there beheld -her beauty and heard her address him; or mayhap he found her not so -fair as he had thought, or scorned her for some other reason, and did -wish to make his triumph of her at Rome and show her in his public -procession. But this indignity she did forestall by her self-inflicted -death. - -There can be no doubt, to return to our first point, that when a woman -is fain after love, or is once well engaged therein, no orator in all -the world can talk better than she. Consider how Sophonisba hath been -described to us by Livy, Appian and other writers, and how eloquent she -did show herself in Massinissa’s case, when she did come to him for -to win over and claim his love, and later again when it behooved to -swallowed the fatal poison. In short, every woman, to be well loved, is -bound to possess good powers of speech; and in very deed there be few -known which cannot speak well and have not words enough to move heaven -and earth, yea! though this were fast frozen in mid winter. - -Above all must they have this gift which devote themselves to love. If -they can say naught, why! they be so savourless, the morsel they give -us hath neither taste nor flavour. Now when M. du Bellay, speaking of -his mistress and declaring her ways, in the words, - - De la vertu je sçavois deviser, - Et je sçavois tellement éguiser, - Que rien qu’honneur ne sortait de ma bouche; - Sage au parler et folastre à la couche. - - (Of virtue I knew how to discourse, and hold such fair language, - naught but honour did issue from my mouth; modest in speech, and - wanton a-bed.) - -doth describe her as “modest in speech, and wanton a-bed,”[119] this -means of course in speaking before company and in general converse. Yet -when that she is alone and in private with her lover, every gallant -dame is ready enough to be free of her speech and to say what she -chooseth, the better to provoke his passion. - -I have heard tales told by sundry that have enjoyed fair and high-born -ladies, or that have been curious to listen to such talking with -others a-bed, how that these were every whit as free and bold in -their discourse as any courtesans they had ever known. And this is a -noteworthy fact that, accustomed as they were so to entertain their -husbands or lovers with lecherous and wanton words, phrases and -discourse, and even freely to name the most secret parts of their -bodies, and this without any disguisement, yet when the same ladies -be set to polite converse, they do never go astray and not one of -all these naughty words doth ever issue from their lips. Well, we -can only say they are right well skilled in self-command and the art -of dissimulation; for no other thing is there which is so frisky and -tricksome as a lady’s tongue or an harlot’s. - -So I once knew a very fair and honourable lady of the great world, -who one day discoursing with an honourable gentleman of the Court -concerning military events in the civil wars of the time, did say -to him: “I have heard say the King hath had every spot in all that -countryside broke down.” Now when she did say “every spot,” what she -meant to say was “every bridge” (pont);[120*] but, being just come from -her husband, or mayhap thinking of her lover, she still had the other -word fresh in her mouth. And this same slip of the tongue did mightily -stir up the gentleman for her. Another lady I knew, talking with a -certain great lady and one better born than herself, and praising and -extolling her beauty, did presently say thus to her, “Nay! Madam, what -I tell you, is not to _futter_ you,” meaning to say, _flatter_ you, -and did afterward correct herself. The fact is her mind was full of -futtering and such like. - -In short, lively speech hath a very great efficacy in the game of love; -and where it is lacking, the pleasure is incomplete. So in very truth -a fair body, if it have not a fair mind to match, is more like a mere -image of itself or idol than a true human body. However fair it may -be, it must needs be seconded by a fair mind likewise, if it is to be -really loved; and if this be not so by nature, it must be so fashioned -by art. - -The courtesans of Rome do make great mock of the gentlewomen of the -same city, which are not trained in witty speech like themselves, and -do say of them that _chiavano come cani, ma che sono quiete della bocca -come sassi_, that is, “they yield them like bitches, but are dumb of -mouth like sticks and stones.”[121*] - -And this is why I have known many honourable gentlemen which have -declined the acquaintance of ladies, and very fair ladies I tell you, -because that they were simpletons, without soul, wit or conversation, -and have quitted them for good and all, saying they would as soon have -to do with a beautiful statue of fair white marble, like that Athenian -youth which did love a statue, and went so far as to take his pleasure -thereof. And for the same reason strangers that do travel in foreign -lands do seldom care to love foreign women, nor are at all apt to take -a fancy to them. For they understand not what they say, and their words -in no wise touch their hearts. I speak of course of such as know not -their language. And if they _do_ go with them, ’tis but to satisfy -nature, and quench the mere brute flame of lust, and then _andar in -barca_ (“away to the ship”), as said an Italian who had come ashore -one day at Marseilles on his way to Spain, and enquired a place where -women were to be found. He was directed to a spot where a wedding feast -was being held. So when a lady came up to accost him and engage him -in conversation, he said to her only, _V. S. mi perdona, non voglio -parlare, voglio solamente chiavare, e poi me n’andar in barca_,—“Pardon -me, Madam; I want not to talk, but only to do, and then away again to -the ship.” - -A Frenchman doth find no great pleasure with a German, Swiss, Flemish, -English, Scotch, Slavonian, or other foreign woman, albeit she should -chatter with the best, if he understand her not. But he taketh great -delight with his French mistress, or with an Italian or Spanish woman, -for generally speaking the most part of Frenchmen of our day, at any -rate such as have seen the world a little, can speak or understand -these languages. And God wot, it matters not if he be skilled and -meet for love, for whosoever shall have to do with a Frenchwoman, an -Italian, Spanish or Greek, and she be quick of tongue, he must needs -frankly own he is fairly catched and conquered. - -In former times this our French tongue was not so excellent and rich a -language as nowadays it is; whereas for many a long year the Italian, -Spanish and Greek have been so. And I will freely own I have scarce -ever seen a lady of these nations, if she have but practised a little -the profession of love, but hath a very good gift of speech. I do refer -me to them that have dealt with such women. Certain it is, a fair lady, -if endowed with fair and witty words, doth afford double contentment. - - - 3. - - OF THE POWER OF SIGHT IN LOVE - - _1_ - -To speak next of the power of sight. Without a doubt, seeing the eyes -be the first part to join combat in love, it must be allowed that -these do give a very great contentment, whenas they are the means to -our beholding something fair and rare in beauty. And by my faith! what -thing is there in all the world a man may see fairer than a fair woman, -whether clothed and handsomely tricked out, or naked? If clothed, -then ’tis only the face you see naked; but even so, when a fair body, -of a beauteous shape, with fine carriage and graceful port, stately -look and proud mien, is presented to our view in all its charms, what -fairer and more delightsome display can there be in all the world? -Then again, when you come to enjoy a fair lady, thus fully dressed and -magnificently attired, the desire and enjoyment of her are doubled, -albeit a man doth see only the face, while all the other parts of the -body are hid. For indeed ’tis a hard matter to enjoy a great lady -according to all the conveniences one might desire, unless it were in -a chamber apart at full leisure and in a secret place, to do what one -best liketh. So spied upon is such an one of all observers! - -And this is why a certain great lady I have heard speak of, if ever she -did meet her lover conveniently, and out of sight of other folk and -fear of surprise, would always seize the occasion at once, to content -her wishes as promptly and shortly as ever she could. And indeed she -did say to him one day, “They were fools, those good ladies of former -days, which being fain of over refinement in their love pleasure, would -shut themselves up in their closets or other privy places, and there -would so draw out their sports and pastimes that presently they would -be discovered and their shame made public. Nowadays must we seize -opportunity whenever it cometh, with the briefest delay possible, like -a city no sooner assailed than invested and straightway captured. And -in this wise we do best avoid the chance of scandal.” - -And I ween the lady was quite right; for such men as have practised -love, have ever held this a sound maxim that there is naught to be -compared with a woman in her clothes. Again when you reflect how a man -doth brave, rumple, squeeze and make light of his lady’s finery, and -how he doth work ruin and loss to the grand cloth of gold and web of -silver, to tinsel and silken stuffs, pearls and precious stones, ’tis -plain how his ardour and satisfaction be increased manifold,—far more -than with some simple shepherdess or other woman of like quality, be -she as fair as she may. - -And why of yore was Venus found so fair and so desirable, if not that -with all her beauty she was alway gracefully attired likewise, and -generally scented, that she did ever smell sweet an hundred paces -away? For it hath ever been held of all how that perfumes be a great -incitement to love. - -This is the reason why the Empresses and great dames of Rome did -make much usage of these perfumes, as do likewise our great ladies -of France,—and above all those of Spain and Italy, which from the -oldest times have been more curious and more exquisite in luxury than -Frenchwomen, as well in perfumes as in costumes and magnificent attire, -whereof the fair ones of France have since borrowed the patterns -and copied the dainty workmanship. Moreover the others, Italian and -Spanish, had learned the same from old models and ancient statues of -Roman ladies, the which are to be seen among sundry other antiquities -yet extant in Spain and Italy; the which, if any man will regard them -carefully, will be found very perfect in mode of hair-dressing and -fashion of robes, and very meet to incite love. On the contrary, at -this present day our ladies of France do surpass all others. ’Tis to -the Queen of Navarre[122] they do owe thanks for this great improvement. - -Wherefore is it good and desirable to have to do with suchlike fair -ladies so well appointed, so richly tricked out and in such stately -wise. So have I heard many courtiers, my comrades, declare, as we did -discourse together on these matters, - -_De sorte que j’ai ouï dire à aucuns courtisans, mes compagnons, ainsi -que nous devisions ensemble, qu’ils les aimaient mieux ainsi que -désacoutrées et couchées neus entre deux linceuls, et dans un lit le -plus enrichi de broderie que l’on sut faire._ - -_D’autres disaient qu’il n’y avait que le naturel, sans aucun fard ni -artifice, comme un grand prince que je sais, lequel pourtant faisait -coucher ses courtisanes ou dames dans des draps de taffetas noir bien -tendus, toutes nues, afin que leur blancheur et délicatesse de chair -parut bien mieux parmi ce noir et donnât plus d’ébat.[122]_ - -There can be no real doubt the fairest sight of any in the whole -world would be that of a beautiful woman, all complete and perfect -in her loveliness; but such an one is ill to find. Thus do we find -it recorded of Zeuxis, the famous painter, how that being asked by -sundry honourable ladies and damsels of his acquaintance to make -them a portrait of the fair Helen of Troy and depict her to them as -beautiful as folk say she was, he was loath to refuse their prayer. -But, before painting the portrait, he did gaze at them all and each -steadfastly, and choosing from one or the other whatever he did find in -each severally most beautiful, he did make out the portrait of these -fragments brought together and combined, and by this means did portray -Helen so beautiful no exception could be taken to any feature. This -portrait did stir the admiration of all, but above all of them which -had by their several beauties and separate features helped to create -the same no less than Zeuxis himself had with his brush. Now this -was as good as saying that in one Helen ’twas impossible to find all -perfections of beauty combined, albeit she may have been most exceeding -fair above all women. - -Be this as it may, the Spaniard saith that to make a woman all perfect, -complete and absolute in loveliness, she must needs have thirty -several beauties,[123] the which a Spanish lady did once enumerate to -me at Toledo, a city where be very fair and charming women, and well -instructed to boot. The thirty then are as followeth: - - (Translated, for the reader’s better comprehension:) - Three things white: skin, teeth and hands. - Three black: eyes, brows and lids. - Three red: lips, cheeks and nails. - Three long: body, hair and hands. - Three short: teeth, ears and feet. - Three wide: chest or bosom, forehead and space betwixt the eyes. - Three narrow: mouth (upper and lower), girth or waist, and ankle. - Three big and thick: arm, thigh and calf. - Three long and fine: fingers, hair and lips. - Three small and delicate: breasts, nose and head. - - Making thirty in all. - -’Tis not inconceivable nor impossible but that all these beauties -should be united all together in one and the same fair lady; but in -that case she must needs be framed in the mould of absolute perfection. -For indeed to see them all so combined, without there being a single -one to carp at and find at fault is scarce possible. I do refer me to -such as have seen beautiful women, or will see such anon, and who would -fain be heedful in noting the same and appraising them, what they shall -say of them. But though they be not complete and perfectly beautiful -in all these points, yet will a beautiful woman alway be beautiful, -and if she have but the half, and those the chief ones, of the parts -and features I have named. For truly I have seen many which had more -than the half, and were exceeding fair and very lovable. Just as a wood -seemeth ever beautiful in Spring-tide, even though it be not filled -with all the little pretty shrubs one might wish for. Yet are there -plenty of fine, tall, spreading trees, which by their abundance may -very well hide the lack of other smaller vegetation. - -M. de Ronsard[124*] must pardon me, if he will. Never did his mistress, -whom he hath represented as so very beautiful, really attain such -perfection, nor any other lady he ever saw in his day or did describe. -He calleth her his fair Cassandra, and sure I am she _was_ fair, but -he hath disguised her under a fictitious name. And the same is equally -true of his Marie, who never bore other name but that, as it is of -the first mentioned. Still it is allowed to poets and painters to say -and do what pleaseth them,—for instance you will find in the _Orlando -Furioso_ wondrous fair beauties portrayed by Ariosto, those of Alcina -and of many another fair one. - -All this is well enough; but as I have heard a great personage of my -acquaintance say, never could plain nature make so fair and perfect -a woman as the keen and subtile imagination of some eloquent poet -might featly describe, or the pencil and brush of some inspired -painter represent. No matter! a man’s eyes are ever satisfied to see -a beautiful woman of fair, clear-complexioned and well-featured face. -Yea! and though it be somewhat brown of hue, ’tis all one; the brunette -is as good as the blonde many a time, as the Spanish girl hath it, -_Aunque io sia morisca, no soy de menos preciar_,—“Brown though I be, I -am not to be scorned for that.”[125*] So the fair Marfisa _era brunetta -alquanto_—“was something brown of face.” Still must not the brown -overset the white too much! Again, a beautiful countenance must be -borne by a body fashioned and built to correspond. This doth hold good -of little as well as big, but tall stature will ever take first place. - -Well, as to seeking out suchlike exquisite points of beauty as I have -just spoke of, and as poets have of old depicted, this we may very well -dispense with, and find pleasure enough in our common and everyday -beauties. Not that I would say common in any ill sense, for verily -we have some so rare that, by my faith! they be better far than all -those which your fantastic poets, and whimsical painters, and lyrical -extollers of female charms could ever delineate. - -Alas! the worst of it is this. Whenas we do see suchlike fair beauties -and gracious countenances, we do admire and long for the fair bodies to -match, for the love of the pretty faces. But lo! in some cases, when -these come to be revealed and brought to light, we do lose all appetite -therefor. They be so ugly, spoiled, blotched, disfigured and hideous, -they do give the lie direct to the face. This is one of the ways we men -are oft sore taken in. - -Hereof we have a good example in a certain gentleman of the Island -of Majorca, by name Raymond Lulle,[126] of a very good, wealthy -and ancient family. This nobleman by reason of his high birth, his -valour and merit, was appointed in the prime of his years to the -governorship of the said island. While in this office, as will oft -happen to Governors of provinces and cities, he did grow enamoured of a -beautiful lady of the island, one of the most accomplished, beautiful -and ready-witted women of those parts. Long and eagerly did he court -her; and at length, seeing he was ever demanding the reward of his -exertions, the lady after refusing as long as ever she could, did one -day give him an assignation. This he did not fail to keep, nor did -she; but presently appeared thereat, more beautiful than ever and more -richly apparelled. Then just as he thought the gates of Paradise were -opening for him, lo! she stepped forward and did show him her breast -and bosom all covered over with a dozen plasters, and tearing these off -one after other and angrily tossing them to the ground, did exhibit -a horrid cancer to him. So with tears in her eyes, she did rehearse -all her wretchedness and her affection to him, and asked him,—was -there then such mighty cause why he should be so much enamoured of -her, making him so sad and dismal a discourse, that he did presently -leave her, all overcome with ruth for the grief of this fair lady. Then -later, after making supplication to God for her restoration to health, -he did give up his office, and turned hermit. - -Afterward, on returning from the Holy Wars, to the which he had vowed -himself, he went to study at Paris under Arnaldus de Villanova, a -learned philosopher; then after finishing his course there, he did -withdraw into England, where the King of that day did welcome him with -all the good will in the world for the sake of his deep learning, and -seeing he did transmute sundry ingots and bars of iron, copper and tin, -scorning the common, trivial fashion of transmuting lead and iron into -gold. For he knew how more than one of his contemporaries could do this -much as well as he, whereas he had skill to do both this and the other -as well. But he was fain to perform a feat above the capacity of the -rest of alchemists. - -I have this tale from a gallant gentleman, which told me himself had it -of the jurisconsult Oldrade. This author doth speak of Raymond Lulle -in the Commentary he made on the Code _De Falsa Moneta_ (“On False -Coining”). Likewise he had it, so he said, on the authority of Carolus -Bovillus,[127] a native of Picardy, who hath writ in Latin a life of -this same Raymond Lulle. - -This is how he did rid himself of his craving for the love of this fair -lady. Other men, ’tis very like, had done differently, and would not -have ceased to love, but shutting their eyes would e’en have taken what -they did desire of her. This he might well enough have done, had he -been so minded, seeing the part he did aim at was in no wise touched -by any such disease. - -I knew once a gentleman and a widow lady of the great world, which were -not so scrupulous. For though the lady was afflicted with a great and -foul cancer of the breast, yet he did not hesitate to wed her, nor she -to take him, contrary to her mother’s advice. - -I knew likewise a very honourable gentleman, and a great friend of -mine, who told me that one time being at Rome, he did chance to love a -certain Spanish lady, one of the fairest was ever seen in that city. -Now when he did go with her, she would never suffer him to see her, -nor ever to touch her, but only with her clothes on. For, if ever he -was for touching her, she would cry out in Spanish, _Ah! no me tocays, -hareis me quosquillas_, that is to say, “Nay! do not touch me; you -tickle me.” But one morning, passing by her house and finding the door -open, he goes boldly in. So having entered, without meeting either -domestic, page or any living soul, he did penetrate to her bedchamber, -and there found her so fast asleep he had leisure to behold and examine -her at his ease, for that it was very hot weather. And he declared he -did never see aught so fair as was her body, excepting only that he -did discover how that, while the one thigh was fair, white, smooth and -well-shapen, the other was all dried up, withered and shrunken, so -that it looked no bigger than a young child’s arm. Who so astonished -as my friend? Who yet did not much compassionate her, and never after -returned to visit her, nor had any subsequent dealings with her. - -Many ladies there be which are not indeed thus shrunken by disease, yet -are so thin, scraggy, withered and fleshless they can show naught but -the mere skeleton of a woman. Thus did I know one, a very great lady, -of whom the Bishop of Sisteron,[128] one of the wittiest men at Court, -did by way of jest and gibe declare that it were better to sleep with -a rat-trap of brass-wire than with her. In a like strain did another -gentleman of the Court, when we were rallying him on having dealings -with a certain great lady, reply, “Nay! but you are all wrong, for -indeed I do love good flesh too well, and she hath naught but bones.” -Yet to look at these two ladies, so fair and beauteous of face, you -would have supposed them both most fleshy and right dainty morsels. - -A very high-born Prince of the great world did chance once to be in -love with two very fair ladies at one and the same time, as doth often -happen to the great, which do love change and variety. The one was -exceeding fair, the other a brunette, but both the twain right handsome -and most lovable women. So one day as he came away from visiting the -dark one, her fair rival being jealous did say to him: “Ah, ha! so -you’ve been flying for crow!” Whereto the Prince did make answer, -something angered and ruffled at the word: “And when I am with you, my -lady, what am I flying for then?” The lady straight made answer: “Why! -for a phœnix, to be sure!” But the Prince, who had as ready a tongue as -most, did retort: “Nay! say rather for a bird of Paradise, the which -hath ever more feathers than flesh”; casting up at her by this word how -that she was rather thin and meagre. The fact is she was too young a -thing to be very fat, stoutness commonly coming only upon such women as -are getting on in years, at the time when they do begin to lay on flesh -and get bigger in limbs and all bodily parts. - -A certain gentleman did make a good reply to a great Lord I wot of. -Both had handsome wives. The great Lord in question found the gentleman -much to his taste, and most enticing. So one day he said to him, “Sir! -I must e’en sleep with your wife.” To this the gentleman, without a -thought, for he was very ready of tongue, did answer, “I am willing -enough, but on condition I sleep with yours.” The Lord replied, “Why! -what would you be at? I tell you, mine is so thin, you would not find -her to your taste at all.” To this the gentleman did retort, “Yea! by -my faith! _je la larderai si menu que je la rendrai de bon gout_.” - -Many women there be whose pretty, chubby faces make men fain to enjoy -them yet when they do come to it, they find them so fleshless the -pleasure and temptation be right soon done away. Among other defects, -we do often find the _gridiron_ form, as it called, the bones so -prominent and fleshless they do press and chafe a man as sorely as -though he had a mule’s packsaddle on him. To remedy this, there be some -dames are used to employ little cushions or pads, very soft and very -delicately made, to bear the brunt and avoid chafing. I have heard -speak of many which have used these in such wise that lovers not in -the secret, when they do come to them, find naught but what is good to -touch, and are quite persuaded ’tis their mistress’s natural plumpness. -For above the satin, they will wear thin, loose, white muslin. In this -way the lover would leave the lady well pleased and satisfied, and -himself deem her a right good mistress. - -Other women again there be which have the skin all veined and marked -like marble, or like mosaic work, dappled like a fawn’s coat, itchy and -subject to sores and farcies; in a word so foul and disfigured the -sight thereof is very far from pleasant. - -I have heard speak of a certain great lady, and I have known her myself -and do know her still, who is all shaggy and hairy over the chest, -stomach, shoulders and all down the spine, like a savage. I leave you -to imagine the effect. The proverb hath it, no person thus hairy is -ever rich or wanton; but verily in this case the lady is both the one -and the other, I can assure you, and is well able to win admirers, to -please their eye and gain their love. - -Others’ skin is like goose flesh or like a feathered starling, all -rugged and cross-grained, and black as the devil. Others are blessed -with great dangling bosoms, hanging down worse than a cow’s giving its -calf milk. Very sure am I these be not the fair breasts of Helen, who -one day desiring to present to the Temple of Diana an elegant cup in -fulfilment of a vow, and employing a goldsmith to make it for her, did -cause him to model the same on one of her lovely breasts. He did make -the goblet of white gold and in such wise that folk knew not which to -admire the most, the cup itself or its resemblance to the beautiful -bosom which he had taken for his pattern. It looked so round and sweet -and plump, the copy only made men the more to desire the real thing. -Pliny doth make especial mention thereof,[129*] in the place where he -treateth of the existence of white gold. ’Tis very strange, but of -white gold was this goblet made. - -But who, I should like to know, would care to model golden cups on the -great ugly breasts I speak of and have seen. We should be bound to give -the goldsmith a big supply of gold, and then all our expense would but -end in laughter and mockery, when we should cry, “Look! see our cup -wrought on the model of so and so’s breasts.” Indeed they would not -so much be like drinking cups at all as those great wooden puncheons, -round and big-bellied, we see used for feeding swine withal. - -Others there be the nipples of whose breasts are for all the world like -a rotten pear. Others again whose bodies are all rough and wrinkled, -that you would take them for old leathern game-bags, such as troopers -and innkeepers carry. This cometh to women which have borne children, -but who have not been properly seen to by the midwives. On the contrary -there be others which have the same sweet and smooth and polished, and -their bosom as plump and pretty as if they were still maids. - - * * * * * - -Other women there be have their parts so pale and wan you would say -they had the fever. Such do resemble some drunkards, which though they -do drink more wine than a sucking pig, are yet always as pale as the -dead. Wherefore do men call them traitors to their wine, as in contrast -with such tipplers as are rosy-faced. In like fashion women that are -pale in this region might very well be spoke of as traitors to Venus, -were it not for the proverb which saith, “a pale whore and a red-faced -scamp.” Be this as it may, there is no doubt their being pale and wan -is not agreeable to see; and is very far from resembling that of one of -the fairest ladies of our time, and one that doth hold high rank (and -myself have seen her), who they used to say did commonly sport three -fine colours all together, to wit scarlet, white and black. For her -mouth was brilliant and as red as coral, her hair pretty and curly and -as black as ebony. So should it ever be, for indeed this is one of the -chiefest beauties of a woman. Then the skin was white as alabaster, -and was finely shadowed by this dark hair. A fair sight in truth! - -I have heard Madame de Fontaine-Chalandray, known as _the fair -Torcy_,[130*] relate how that her Mistress, Queen Eleanor, being robed -and dressed, did appear a very beauteous Princess, and indeed there be -many which have seen her looking so at our King’s Court, and of a good -noble figure. But being stripped, she did seem a very giantess in body, -so long was it and big; whereas going lower down, she seemed but a -dwarf, so short and small were her thighs and legs and all those parts. - -Another great lady I have heard speak of was just the opposite. For -whereas in body she looked a dwarf, so short and diminutive was it, for -the rest down below she was a perfect giantess or colossus, so big, -long and high-forked were her thighs and legs, though at the same time -well-proportioned and fleshy. - -There be many husbands and lovers among us Christians which do desire -to be in all respects different from the Turks, which last take no -pleasure in looking at women closely, because they say, as I have -stated above, they have no shape. We Christians on the other hand do -find, ’tis said, great contentment in regarding them carefully and do -delight in such. Nay! not only do men enjoy seeing them, but likewise -in kissing, and many ladies have shown their lovers the way. Thus a -Spanish lady did reply to her lover on his quitting her one day with -the words, _Bezo las manos y los pies, Señora; Senor, en el medio esta -la mejore stacion_. - -Other women have their thighs so ill proportioned, so unattractive -looking and so badly made that they deserve not to be regarded or -desired at all; and the same is true of their legs, which in some be -so stout and heavy you would say the thick part thereof was a rabbit’s -belly when it is with young. In others again they be so thin and tiny -and so like a stork’s shanks, you might well deem them flute pipes -rather than a woman’s thighs and legs. What the rest is like, I will -e’en leave you to imagine! - -If I were to detail all the other beauties and deformities women are -subject to, truly I should never have done. Now all I do say hereanent, -or might say, is never of low-born or common women, but always of -high-born, or at least well-born, ladies, which by their fairness of -face do set the world on fire, but what of their person is hid doth but -ill correspond. - - - _2_ - -It is no long while agone since in a certain district of Guyenne -a married dame, of very good station and descent, had a strange -adventure. As she was overlooking her children’s studies, lo! their -tutor, by some madness or frenzy of the brain, or maybe from a -fierce access of love that did suddenly master him, did take a sword -belonging to her husband and which lay on the bed, and did assail her -so furiously as that he did transpierce her two thighs and her two -labia from the one part to the other. Whereof she did after all but -die, and would have right out but for the help of an excellent surgeon. -She might well say of her poor body how that it had been in two divers -wars and assailed in two different ways. The sight thereof afterward -was, I imagine, scarce agreeable, seeing it was so scarred and its -_wings_ so torn. I say _wings_, for while the Greeks do call these -labia _hymenaea_, the Latins name the same _alae_ (wings), the moderns -_labia_, or lips, and sundry other names. For truly there is no beast -or bird, be it falcon, raw and untrained, like that of our young girls, -or hawk, whether haggard or well practised, as of our married women and -widows, that doth go more nimbly or hath the wing so active. - -Other women, for dread of colds and catarrhs, do smother themselves in -bed with cape and mufflers about the head, till upon my word they do -look more like old witches than young women. Yet once out of bed, they -are as smart as dolls. Others again be all rouged and painted up like -images, fine enough by day; but a-nights the paint is off, and they are -as ugly as sin. - -It were well to examine suchlike dames before loving, marrying and -enjoying the same, as Octavius Caesar was used to do.[131*] For along -with his friends he did have sundry great ladies and Roman matrons -stripped naked, and even virgins of marriageable age, and did examine -them from head to foot, as if they had been slave-women and purchased -serfs. The said examination was carried out by a certain horse-jockey -or dealer by name Toranus, and according as this man did approve and -find them to his liking, and unspoiled, would the Emperor take his -pleasure with them. - -This is precisely what the Turks do in their slave-market at -Constantinople and other great towns, when they buy slaves, whether -male or female. - -Well! I will say no more of all this; indeed methinks I have already -said over much. So this is how we be sore deceived in many sights -we at the first imagine and believe very admirable. But if we be -thus deceived in some good ladies, no less are we edified and well -satisfied in other some, the which are so fair and sweet and clean, -so fresh and plump, so lovable and desirable, in one word so perfect -in all their bodily parts, that after them all sights in this world -are but mean and empty. Whence it cometh there be men, which at such a -sight do so lose their wits they must at once to work. Moreover ’tis -often the case that such fair dames do find pleasure in showing their -persons and do make no difficulty so to do, knowing themselves as -they do without spot or blemish, to the end they may the better rouse -temptation and concupiscence in our manly bosoms. - -One day when we were together at the siege of La Rochelle, the late -unfortunate Duc de Guise,[132] which did me the honour to hold me in -affection, did come and show me some tables he had just filched from -Monsieur the King’s brother,[132] our General in that enterprise, from -out the pocket of his breeches, and said thus: “Monsieur hath done me a -displeasure and mocked me concerning my love for a certain lady. Well I -would fain now take my revenge; look at these tables of his, and read -what I have writ therein.” With this he did hand me the tables, and I -saw writ therein in his hand these four verses following, which he had -just made up,—only that the word was set down outright in the first -line: - - Si vous ne m’avez congeue, - Il n’a pas tenu à moy; - Car vous m’avez bien vue nue, - Et vous ay monstré de quoy. - - (If you have not known me, this is no fault of mine. For indeed you - have seen me naked, and I have shown you all you need.) - -After, he did tell me the lady’s name, an unmarried girl to say truth, -which I did already suspect. I said I was greatly surprised the Prince -had never touched or known her, seeing his opportunities had been very -ample, and he was credited by common report with being her lover. But -he did answer, ’twas not so, and that it was solely by his own fault. -To which I replied, “Then it must needs, my Lord, have been, either -that at the time he was so weary and so sated in other quarters he was -unable to bear the brunt, or else that he was so entranced with the -contemplation of her naked charms that he did give never a thought to -the active part.”—“Well! it may be,” the Prince answered, “he was good -to do it; but anyhow this time he failed to take his opportunity. So I -am having my fun of him, and I am going to put his tables back in his -pocket, which he will presently examine, as is his wont, and must needs -read what I have writ. And so I have my revenge.” This he did, and -never after did they twain meet without having a good laugh over it, -and a merry passage of arms. For at that period was great friendship -and intimacy betwixt these two, though after so strangely altered. - -A lady of the great world, or to speak strictly a young maid, was held -in much love and close intimacy by a certain great Princess.[133*] -The latter was one time in her bed, resting, as was her wont, when a -gentleman did come to see the damsel, one which was deep in love with -her, albeit he had naught at all but his love to aid his suit. Then -the fair lady, being so well loved and on such intimate terms with her -Mistress the Princess, did come to her as she lay, and nimbly, without -any warning whatsoever, did suddenly drag away all the coverings from -off her, in such wise that the gentleman, by no means slow to use his -eyes, did instantly cast them on her, and beheld, as he did tell me the -tale afterward, the fairest sight ever he saw or is like to see,—her -beautiful body, and all her lovely, white, exquisite person, that did -make him think he was gazing on the beauties of Paradise. But this -scarce lasted an instant; for the moment the bed-clothes were thrown -off, the lady did snatch back the same, the girl having meanwhile run -off. Yet as luck would have it, the more the fair lady did struggle to -pull back the coverings, the more she did display her charms. This in -no wise spoiled the sight and the pleasure the gentleman had therein, -who you may be sure did not put himself about to help her,—he had been -a fool so to do. However, presently in one way or another she did -get her coverings over her again as before, chiding her favourite, -but gently withal, and telling her she should pay for her pranks. -The damsel, who had slipped away a little out of her reach, did only -reply, “Madam, you did play me a trick a while agone; forgive me if -that I have paid you back in your own coin.” And so saying, through the -chamber-door and away! But peace was not long a-making. - -Meanwhile the gentleman was so content with what he had seen, and so -full of ecstasy, delight and satisfaction, I have heard him declare an -hundred times over he did wish for naught else his life long but only -to live and dream of this fair sight day by day. And in sooth he was -right for to judge by the fair face that is without a rival and the -beauteous bosom that hath so ravished mankind, there must indeed have -been yet more exquisite dainties. And he did affirm that among these -charms, the said lady did possess the finest figure, and the best -developed, ever he did set eyes on. And it may well be so, for she was -of a very rich and opulent figure, and this must needs be one of the -chief of all a woman’s beauties, and like a frontier fortress, one of -the most necessary and indispensable. - -When the said gentleman had told me all his tale, I could only bid him, -“Live on, my friend, live on; with this divine sight to dream on and -this happy contemplation, you should never die. And heaven grant me -before I die, at least to see so fair a spectacle!” - -The said gentleman did surely owe an eternal debt of gratitude to the -damsel, and did ever after honour and love her with all his heart. And -he did woo her right eagerly as lover, yet married her not at the last; -for another suitor, richer than he, did carry her off, for truly ’tis -the way of all women to run after the solid good things of life. - -Sights like this be fair and right pleasant; yet must we beware they -work not harm, as the view of the beauteous Diana in her nakedness did -to poor Acteon, or yet another I am about to tell of. - -A great King did in his day love fondly a very beautiful, honourable -and great lady, a widow, so that men did esteem him bewitched of her -charms.[134*] For little did he reck of other women, or even of his -wife, except only now and again, for this fair lady did always have -the pick of the flowers of his garden. This did sorely grieve the -Queen, for she knew herself as fair and lovable, as well deserving of -loyal service and as worthy to enjoy such dainty morsels as the other. -All this did both anger and surprise her much; wherefore having made -her moan to a great lady which was her chief favourite, she did plot -with her and contrive if there were no way whereby she might e’en -spy through some peep-hole the game her husband and the lady should -play together. And accordingly she did contrive to make sundry holes -in the ceiling of the said lady’s chamber, for to see it all and the -life they twain should lead with one another. So they did set them to -view the sight; yet beheld naught but what was fair to see, for they -did behold only a most beauteous, white and delicately made woman, -tender and sweet, half muffled in her shift, entertaining of her lover -with pretty, dainty caresses and most tricksome pranks, and her lover -performing the like to her. Then presently the twain would lie and -frolic together on the thick, soft carpet which was by the bed-side, so -to escape the heat and the better to enjoy the cool. For it was then -at the hottest of the year; and myself have also known another very -great Prince which was used to take his amusement with his wife in this -fashion, to avoid the heat brought on by the great warmth of the summer -season, as himself did declare. - -The unhappy Queen then, having seen and observed it all, did of very -despite set to and weep, sob, sigh and make sore moan, thinking, and -saying too, how that her husband did never the like with her, nor ever -went through suchlike amorous follies as she had seen him perform with -his mistress. - -The other lady, which was with her, did what she could for to comfort -her, and chided her for making so sad a moan, saying what was true -enough, that as she had been so curious as to spy out such doings, she -could scarce have expected else. To this the Queen did make no other -answer but only this, “Alas! yes, I was wilful, and fain to see a thing -I should never have beheld, for verily the sight thereof did hurt me -very sore!” Natheless did she find some comfort anon and resolution of -mind, and did leave off sorrowing. - -I have heard yet another story of an honourable lady who when a girl -was whipped by her mother twice every day, not that she had done aught -wrong, but because, as she supposed, her mother did find a pleasure in -seeing her so wriggle. - -I have heard even a worse thing of a great Lord and Prince, more than -eighty years agone, how that before going to cohabit with his wife, he -was used to have himself whipped, not being able to be moved nor to do -anything without this ridiculous remedy. I should greatly like some -competent physician to tell me the reason hereof. - -That great and distinguished author, Pico della Mirandola,[135] doth -declare himself to have seen a gallant of his day, who the more he was -thrashed with heavy blows of a stirrup-leather, the more was he thereby -fierce after women. Never was he so valiant with them as after he had -been so leathered, though when it was once well done, he was as fierce -as any man. Truly here be some strange and terrible caprices! At any -rate to see others whipped is a more agreeable sort of humour than this -last! - - - _3_ - -When I was at Milan, I was one day told a diverting tale,—how the -late Marquis de Pescaire,[136] dead no long while agone, erst Viceroy -of Sicily, did fall deeply in love with a very fair lady. And so one -morning, believing her husband was gone abroad, he set forth to visit -her, finding her still a-bed; but in conversation with her, he did win -naught else but only to see her, gaze at her under the clothes at his -leisure, and touch her with his hand. While this was a-doing, lo! the -husband did appear, a man which was not of the high consideration of -the Marquis in any respect, and did surprise them in such sort that -the Marquis had no time to get back his glove, the which was lost some -way or another among the sheets, as doth frequently happen. Presently, -after exchanging a few words with him, he did leave the chamber, -conducted to the door by the husband. The latter on returning did, -as chance would have it, discover the Marquis’s glove lost among the -sheets, the lady not having noticed the same. This he did take and lock -up, and after, putting on a cold demeanour toward his wife, did long -remain without sleeping with her or touching her at all. Wherefore one -day she being alone in her chamber, did set hand to pen and write this -quatrain following: - - Vigna era, vigna son. - Era podata, or piu non son; - E non so per qual cagion - Non mi poda il mio patron. - -So leaving these verses writ out on the table, anon the husband came -and saw the lines; and so taketh pen and doth thus reply: - - Vigna eri, vigna sei, - Eri podata, e piu non sei. - Per la granfa del leon, - Non ti poda il tuo patron. - -These he did leave likewise on the table. The whole was carried to the -Marquis, who made answer: - - A la vigna chez voi dite - Io fui, e qui restai; - Alzai il pampano; guardai la vite; - Ma, se Dio m’ajuti, non toccai. - -This in turn was shown to the husband, who satisfied with so honourable -a reply and fair apology, did take his vine to him again, and did -cultivate the same as industriously as heretofore; and never were -husband and wife happier together. - -I will now translate the verses from the Italian, that all may follow -the sense: - -“I was a vine, and am so still. I was well cultivated; but am so no -more. And I know not for what cause my master doth not now cultivate me -as before.” - - - ANSWER: - -“A vine thou wert, and art so still; thou wert well cultivated, and art -so no more. Because of the lion’s claw, for this cause thy master doth -not now cultivate thee as before.” - - - ANSWER OF THE MARQUIS: - -“The vine you both do speak of I visited ’tis true, and tarried a -space. I lifted the cluster, and looked at the grape; but, so God help -me, touched not at all.” - -By the “lion’s claw” the husband meaneth to signify the glove he had -found lost between the sheets. - -A good husband this, which did not take umbrage overmuch, and putting -away his suspicions, did thus forgive his wife. And there is no doubt -there be ladies which do take such a delight in themselves they do love -to see themselves naked and gaze at their own beauty, in such wise that -they are filled with ravishment beholding themselves so lovely, like -Narcissus. What then, I ask, is it like we men should do, whenas we do -see and gaze at the same? - -Mariamné, the wife of Herod,[137] a fair and honourable lady, when that -one day her husband was fain to sleep with her at full midday, and see -openly all her charms, did refuse flatly, so Josephus doth record. Nor -did he insist on his rights as a husband, as did a great Lord I knew -once with his wife, one of the fairest of the fair, whom he did enjoy -thus in open day, and did strip her stark naked, she protesting stoutly -the while. After, he did send her women to her to dress her again, who -did find her all in tears and filled with shame. Other dames on the -contrary there be which do make no set scruples of the sort at making -display of their beauty and showing themselves thus, the better to -stir their lovers’ passion and caprice, and draw them the more fondly -to them. Yet will they in no wise suffer them to enjoy their most -precious favour. Some indeed, ill liking to halt on so pleasant a -road, soon go further; but others there be,—I have heard tell of not a -few such,—which have long time entertained their lovers with such fair -sights, and no more. - -Happy they which have patience so to bide their time, without yielding -overmuch to temptation. Yet must the man be fair bewitched of virtue -who seeing a beautiful woman, doth give his eyes no gratification. -So was Alexander the Great used to say at whiles to his friends how -that the Persian maids did much hurt the eyes of such as did gaze at -them. And for this cause, when he held prisoners the daughters of King -Darius, he would never greet them but with downcast eyes, and likewise -as seldom as ever he could, for fear he should have been overcome by -the excellence of their beauty. - -Not in those times only, but likewise in our own days, among all the -women of the East, the Persian fair ones do bear the bell and prize of -beauty, and fine proportion of bodily parts, and natural charm, as well -as of becoming grace and fitness in dress and foot-gear—and above all -others, they of the ancient and royal city of Shiraz.[138] These last -be so commended for their beauty, fair skin, civility of manners and -sweet grace, that the Moors do say in an old and well-known proverb, -how that their Prophet Mahomet would never go to Shiraz, for fear, -had he once set eyes on its lovely women, his soul after death would -never have entered Paradise. Travellers which have been to that city -and writ thereof, do say the same. And herein observe the hypocrisy of -that same dissolute and rascal Prophet and his pretended continence; -as if it were not to be found writ down, as Belon doth tell us, in an -Arab work entitled “Of the Good Customs of Mahomet,” extolling the -Prophet’s corporeal vigour, how that he was used to boast of working -and satisfying all his eleven wives which he had in a single hour, one -after the other. To the deuce with the rascally fellow! Let us speak no -more of him. When all is said and done, I had as lief never have named -him at all! - -I have heard this question raised concerning the behaviour of Alexander -which I have described above and that of Scipio Africanus,—to wit which -of the twain did merit the greater praise of continency? - -Alexander, distrusting the strength of his chasteness, did refuse even -to look at the fair Persian maids. Scipio, after the taking of New -Carthage, did look at the beautiful Spanish girl his soldiers brought -him and offered him as his share of the booty, which maid was so -excellent in beauty and of so fair a time of life and flower of age, -that wheresoever she did pass, she would brighten and charm the eyes -of all that did behold her, and eke of Scipio himself. But he, after -greeting her right courteously, did make inquiry of what city of Spain -she was and of her family. - -Then was he informed, among other things, how that she was betrothed -to a young man, Alucius by name, Prince of the Celtiberians, to whom -he did give her up and to her father and mother, without ever laying a -hand on her. By which conduct he did lay the said lady, her relations -and her betrothed, under such obligation that they did ever after -show themselves most well affectioned to the city of Rome and the -Commonwealth. - -Yet who knoweth but in her secret soul this fair damsel had not rather -have been assailed first of all by Scipio,—who, remember, was young, -handsome, brave, valiant and victorious? It may well be that if some -bosom friend, male or female of the girl’s had asked her on her faith -and conscience whether she had not wished it so, I leave it to the -reader to suppose what she would have answered, and if at the least she -would not have made some little sign or gesture signifying what her -real wish had been. For think how the climate of her country and that -westering sun of Spain might well have made her hot and keen for love, -as it hath many another fair lady of that land, as fair and gracious as -she, in our own day, as myself have seen many an one. It can scarce be -doubted then, if this fair and honourable maid had but been asked and -courted of the young and handsome Scipio, but she would have taken him -at the word, yea! even on the altar of her heathen gods! - -Herein hath Scipio doubtless been commended highly of some for his -noble gift of continence. Yet hath he been no less blamed of others; -for wherein may a brave and valorous gallant better show forth the -generosity of his heart towards a fair and honourable lady than by -manifesting to her in deeds that he doth prize her beauty and highly -admire it. Better this than treating her with that cold respect, that -modesty and discretion, the which I have heard many good gentlemen and -honest ladies call rather by the name of silliness and want of spirit -than of virtue? Nay, verily! ’tis not such qualities at all a beautiful -and worthy dame doth love in her heart of hearts, but rather good love -and service that is prudent, discreet and secret. In one word, as an -honourable lady did one day exclaim a-reading of this tale, Scipio was -a fool, valiant and noble captain as he was, to go out of his way so to -bind folk to him under obligation and to the Roman side by any such -silly ways, when he might have done it just as well by other means more -convenient. Beside, ’twas booty of War, whereof a man may take his joy -and triumph as legitimately as of any other thing whatsoever in the -world, or more so. - -The great First Founder of Rome did not so, on occasion of the rape of -the fair Sabine women, toward her which fell to his share. Rather he -did to her according to his good pleasure, and paid her no cold respect -whatever. This she did relish well enough and felt no grievance, -neither she nor her companions, which did very soon make accord with -their new husbands and ravishers. The women for their part did make no -complaint like their fathers and mothers, which did rouse a fierce war -of reprisals. - -True it is, folk be of different sorts, and there be women _and_ -women. Some are loth to yield to any stranger in this sort, herein -more resembling the wife of King Ortiagon,[139*] one of the Galatian -monarchs of Asia Minor. She was of a perfect beauty, and being taken -captive on the Kings’ defeat by a Roman Centurion and solicited in her -honour, she did stand firm in refusal, having a horror of yielding -herself to him, a man of so low and base a station compared with -herself. Wherefore he did have her by force and violence, whom the -fortune and chance of War had given him by right of conquest to make -his slave of. But ’twas no long while before he did repent him, and -meet with vengeance for this offence; for the Queen, having promised -him a great ransom for her liberty, and both being come to the -appointed place for him to receive the money, she did have him slain, -as he was a-counting of the gold, and did carry away it and his head to -her husband. To this last she did confess freely how that the Roman -had indeed violated her chastity, but that she had taken her vengeance -of him therefor in this fashion,—the which her husband did approve and -did highly honour her for her behaviour. And from that day forth, said -the history, she did faithfully keep her honour unsullied to the last -day of her life with all scrupulousness and seriousness. Anyway she did -enjoy this good treat, albeit it did come from a low-born fellow.[140*] - -Lucretia did otherwise, for she tasted not the pleasure at all, albeit -solicited by a gallant King. Herein was she doubly a fool, first not -to gratify him on the spot and readily enough, and secondly to kill -herself. - -To return once more to Scipio, ’twould seem he knew not yet the ways -of War concerning booty and pillage. For by what I learn of a great -Captain of our troops, there is no such dainty morsel for loot as a -woman taken in War. The same good soldier did make much mock of sundry -others his comrades, which were used to insist above all things, at -assaults and surprises of towns, on the saving of the women’s honour, -as well as on divers other occasions and rencontres. This is sheer -folly, seeing women do always love men of arms more than any others, -and the very roughness of these doth give them the better appetite. -So who can find aught to blame? The pleasure is theirs; their honour -and their husbands’ is in no way fouled; and where is the mighty harm -and ruin? And yet another point,—they do oft by this means save their -husbands’ goods and lives,—as did Eunoé, wife of Bogud or Bocchus, King -of Mauretania, to whom Cæsar did give great possessions and to her -husband likewise, not so much, we may well believe, for having followed -his side, as Juba, King of Bithynia did that of Pompey, as because she -was a beautiful woman, and Cæsar did have the enjoyment of her pleasant -favours.[141*] - -Many other excellent conveniences are there and advantages of these -loves I must needs pass over. Yet, this same great Captain would -exclaim, in spite of them all would other commanders, his comrades and -fellows, obeying silly, old-fashioned laws of War, be fain to preserve -the honour of women. But surely ’twere more meet first to find out in -secrecy and confidence their real wishes, and then decide what to do. -Or mayhap they be of the complexion of our friend Scipio, who was worse -than the gardener’s dog, which, as I have before said, will neither -himself eat the cabbages in the garden, nor yet let other folk taste of -them. This is the way he did treat the unhappy Massinissa, who had so -oft times risked his life for him and for the Roman People, and so sore -laboured, sweated and endeavoured, for to gain him glory and victory. -Yet after all he did refuse him the fair Queen Sophonisba and did rob -him of her, seeing he had chose her for his chiefest and most precious -spoil. He did take her from him to send her to Rome, there to live -out the rest of her days as a wretched slave,—if Massinissa had not -found a remedy to save her from this fate. The Conqueror’s glory had -been fairer and nobler, if she had appeared at Rome as a glorious and -stately Queen, and wife of Massinissa, so that folk would have said, -as they saw her go by: “Look! one of the fair vestiges of Scipio’s -conquests.” Surely true glory doth lie much rather in the display of -great and noble things than of mean and degraded. - -In fine, Scipio, in all this discussion, was shown to have committed -grievous faults, whether because he was an enemy of the whole female -sex, or as having been altogether impotent to satisfy its wishes. And -yet ’tis said that in his later years he did engage in a love intrigue -with one of his wife’s maids,—the which the latter did very patiently -endure, for reasons that might easily be alleged to account for the -said complaisancy. - - - _4_ - -However, to return from the digression I have just been indulging in -and come back into the direct course of my argument, I do declare as my -last word in this discourse, that nothing in all the wide world is so -fair to see and look upon as a beautiful woman splendidly attired or -else daintily disrobed and laid upon a fair bed, provided always she be -sound and sweet, without blemish, blot or defect, as I have afore said. - -King Francis I. was used to say, no gentleman, howsoever magnificent, -could in any better wise receive a great Lord, howsoever mighty and -high-born, at his mansion or castle, than by offering to his view on -his first arrival a beautiful woman, a fine horse and a handsome hound. -For by casting his gaze now on the one, now on the other and presently -on the third, he would never be a-weary in that house, having there the -three things most pleasant to look upon and admire, and so exercising -his eyes right agreeably. - -Queen Isabelle of Castile was wont to say, there were four things did -give her very great pleasure to behold: _Hombre d’armas en campo, -obisbo puesto en pontifical, linda dama en la cama, y ladron en la -horca_,—“A man of arms in the field, a Bishop in his pontificals, a -fair lady in her bed, and a thief on the gallows.” - -I have heard the late Cardinal de Lorraine,[142*] a short while since -deceased, relate how on the occasion of his going to Rome to the Court -of Pope Paul IV., to break off the truce made with the Emperor, he did -pass through Venice, where he was very honourably received, we cannot -doubt, seeing he was so high in the favour of so high and puissant a -King. The most noble and magnificent Senate of that city did set forth -in a body to meet him. Presently, passing up the Grand Canal, where -every window of all the houses was crowded with all the fairest ladies -of the place, who had assembled thither to see the state entry, there -was a certain great man of the highest rank which did discourse to him -on the business of the State, and spake at length of great matters. But -after a while, seeing the Cardinal was for ever casting his eyes and -fixing them on all these beautiful dames, he said to him in his native -Venetian dialect: “My Lord Cardinal, I think you heed me not, and you -are right enough. For surely ’tis much more pleasure and diversion to -watch these fair ladies at the windows and take delight of their beauty -than to listen to the talk of a peevish old man like me, even though he -should be talking of some great achievement and success to redound to -your advantage.” On this the Cardinal, who had no lack of ready wit and -memory, did repeat to him word for word all he had said, leaving the -good old man excellently well pleased with him, and full of wonder and -esteem, seeing that for all his feasting of his eyes on the fair ladies -of Venice, he had neither forgot nor neglected aught of all he had said -to him. - -Any man which hath seen the Court of our French Kings, Francis I., -Henri II., and other Sovereigns his sons, will freely allow, whosoever -he be and though he have seen all the world, he hath never beheld -aught so fair and admirable as the ladies which did frequent their -Court and that of the Queens and Princesses, their wives, mothers and -sisters. Yet a still fairer sight would he have seen, say some, if only -the grandsire of Master Gonnin had yet been alive, who by dint of his -contrivances, illusions, witchcrafts and enchantments could have shown -the same all undressed and stript naked, as they say he did once in -a private company at the behest of King Francis. For indeed he was a -man very expert and subtile in his art of sorcery; whose grandson, the -which we have ourselves seen, knew naught at all in this sort to be -compared with him. - -This sight I ween would be as agreeable and diverting as was of yore -that of the Egyptian women at Alexandria, on occasion of the reception -and welcoming of their great god Apis, to greet whom they were used to -go forth in great state, and lifting their gowns, bodices and shifts, -and tucking up the same as high as ever they could, did show the god -themselves right out. If any will see the tale, let him read Alexander -ab Alexandro, in the 6th book of his _Dies Joviales_.[143*] I think -such a sight must indeed have been a right agreeable one, for in those -days the ladies of Alexandria were exceeding fair, as they are still to -this day. - -Doubtless the old and ugly women did in like wise; but there! what -matter? The eye should never strain but after what is fair and comely, -and avoid the foul and unlovely all it may. - -In Switzerland, men and women do meet promiscuously in the baths, hot -and cold, without doing any dishonest deed, but are satisfied with -putting a linen cloth in front of them. If this be pretty loose, well! -we may see something, mayhap agreeable or mayhap not, according as our -companion is fair or foul. - -Before ending this part of my discourse, I will add yet one word more. -Just think again to what sore temptations were exposed the young -lords, knights and nobles, plebeians and other men of Rome, and what -delectation of the eye they did enjoy in ancient times on the day when -was kept the feast of Flora at Rome. This Flora, ’tis said, was the -most engaging and successful courtesan that did ever practise harlotry -at Rome,[144*] or in any other city. And what did yet more recommend -her herein was the fact she was of a good house and noble lineage; for -dames of such high sort do naturally please the more, and to go with -such doth afford greater gratification. - -Thus the lady Flora had this excellence and advantage over Laïs, seeing -the latter would give herself to any like a common strumpet, but Flora -to great folk only. And indeed she had this writing put up at the -entering in of her door, “Kings, Princes, Dictators, Consuls, Censors, -Pontifices, Quæstors, Ambassadors, and other the like great Lords, -enter; but no other.” - -Laïs did ever ask payment beforehand, but Flora never, saying she did -act so with great folk to the end they might likewise act by her as -great and illustrious men should, and also that a woman of much beauty -and high lineage will ever be esteemed as she doth value herself. So -would she take naught but what was freely given her, declaring every -gentle dame should do pleasure to her lover for love’s sake, and not -for avarice, for that all things have their price save and except true -love alone. - -In a word, she did in her day so excellently and sweetly practise love, -and did win her such gallant lovers, that whenever she did quit her -lodging now and again to walk abroad in the city, there was talk of -her enough to last a month, as well for her beauty, her fair and rich -attire, her gallant bearing and engaging mien, as for the ample suite -of courtiers and lovers and great lords which went with her, and did -follow and attend her like veritable slaves,—an honour she did take -with no ill grace. And ambassadors from foreign lands, when they did -return to their own country, would ever find more delight in tales -of the beauty and wondrous excellence of the divine Flora than in -describing the greatness of the Roman State. And above all would they -extol her generosity, a thing contrary to the common bias of suchlike -dames; but then she was out of the common altogether, seeing she was of -noble origin. - -Eventually she did die so rich and opulent that the worth of her money, -furniture and jewels were enough to rebuild the walls of Rome, and -furthermore to free the State of debt. She did make the Roman People -her heir in chief; and in memory thereof was erected at Rome a very -sumptuous Temple, which was called from her name the Florianum. - -The first Festival ever the Emperor Galba did celebrate was that of the -fond Flora, at the which ’twas allowed all Roman men and women to do -every sort of debauchery, dissoluteness, abomination and extravagance -they chose and could imagine. Indeed _she_ was deemed the most -religious and most gallant dame, which on that day did best play the -dissolute, debauched and abandoned wanton. - -Think of it! Never a _fiscaigne_ (’tis a lascivious dance the loose -women and Moorish slave-girls dance on Sundays at Malta publicly -in the open square), nor saraband did come near these Floralia for -naughtiness; and never a movement or wanton posture or provocative -gesture or lascivious twist and twirl did these Roman dames omit. Nay! -the more dissolute and extravagant the figures she did devise, the -more gallant and gay was deemed the performer; for the Romans did hold -this creed that the more wanton and lecherous the gesture and carriage -wherewith a woman did approach the Temple of this goddess, the more -like was she to win the same charms and opulence Flora herself had -enjoyed. - -Verily a fine creed, and a fine mode of solemnizing a festival! but -remember they were but Pagans. Well! little doubt there was never a -sort of naughtiness they did fail to bethink them of, and that for long -beforehand these worthy dames would be a-studying of their lessons, -just as our own countrywomen will set to work to learn a ballet, and -would devote all their heart and soul to these things. Then the young -men, and the old ones too, would be no less eager to look on and behold -their quaint grimacings and wanton tricks. If such a show could be held -in our days, folks would be right glad to profit by the same in every -sense; and to be present at such a sight, the public would verily crowd -itself to death! - -Further details let each imagine for himself; I leave the task to our -merry gallants. Let any that is fain, read Suetonius, as also Pausanias -in Greek and Manilius in Latin, in the books they have writ[145*] -concerning illustrious, amorous and famous ladies, and he will learn -the whole in full. - -This one more story, and then an end. We read how the Lacedæmonians set -forth once to lay siege to Messené; but the Messenians were beforehand -with them. For they did sally out upon the enemy, some of them, -whilst the rest did make all haste and away to Lacedæmon, thinking to -surprise their town and pillage it, while the Spartans were occupied -before Messené. They were however valorously repelled and driven off -by the women which had been left behind. Hearing of their design, the -Lacedæmonians did turn about and make their way back toward their own -city. But from a long way off they did make out their women all armed, -who had already driven off the enemy whose attack on the city they had -dreaded. Then did the said women straightway inform them of all, and -relate their victory,—the news whereof did so delight them they did set -to on the spot to kiss, fondle and caress the victors. In such wise -that, forgetting all shame and without even waiting to take off their -harness, neither men nor women, they did gallantly do the thing with -them on the very spot where they had met them first. Then were things -to be seen not usual in War, and a right pleasant rattle and tinkle of -arms and armour and the like to make itself heard. In memory whereof -they did have built a temple and statue to the goddess Venus, under the -title of the _Armed Venus_, unlike all other images of the goddess, -which do always represent her naked. A merry tale of a merry encounter, -and a happy idea to depict Venus armed, and call her by that title! - -’Tis no uncommon sight among men of arms, especially at the taking of -towns by assault, to see soldiers fully armed enjoying women, having -neither the time nor patience to disarm before satisfying their lust -and appetite, so fierce and eager are they. But to see soldier and -woman both armed in cohabitation together is a thing seldom seen. - -Well, well! enough! we must needs make an end,—albeit I could have -filled out this discourse to more ample length by not a few other -examples, had I not feared to seem over wanton, and incur an ill repute -of naughtiness. - -However, after so much praise of fair ladies, I do feel me bound to -repeat the words of a Spaniard, who one day wishing ill to a woman, did -describe her in very proper terms to me thus: - -_Señor, vieja es como la lampada azeytunada d’iglesia, y de hechura del -armario, larga y desvayada, el color y gesto como mascara mal pintada, -el talle como una campana o mola de el andar y vision d’una antigua -fantasma de la noche, que tanto tuviese encontrar-la de noche, como ver -una mandragora. Iesus! Iesus! Dios me libre de su mal encuentro! No se -contenta de tener en su casa por huesped al provisor del obisbo, ni se -contenta con la demasiada conversacion del vicario ni del guardian, -ni de la amistad antigua del dean, sino que agora de nuevo ha tomado -al que pide para las animas del purgatorio, para acabar su negra -vida_;—“Sir! look at her! She is like an old, greasy Church lamp. Form -and shape are those of a great aumry, all mis-shapen and ill made; -complexion and features like a badly drawn mask; figure as shapely as a -monastery bell or a great millstone. Her face is like an old idol; her -look and gait like an antic ghost that walks by night. I should be as -sore afraid to meet her in the dark as to face a horrid mandrake. The -good Jesus keep me from such an encounter! The Bishop’s Ordinary is -her constant guest, but she is not satisfied; the garrulous Vicar and -the good old Dean are her oldest friends, but she is not content. She -must needs entangle now the Pardoner for poor souls in Purgatory, to -complete the infamy of her black and odious life.” - -Observe how the Spaniard, which hath so well described the thirty -beauties of a fair lady (have I not quoted them above, in this same -Discourse?), can, when he so wills, abuse the sex with the like gusto. - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - THIRD DISCOURSE - - Concerning the beauty of a fine leg, and the virtue - the same doth possess. - - - 1. - -Among many and sundry beauties the which I have at divers times known -us courtiers to praise, and which are right well adapted to attract -love, one of the highest esteemed is a fine leg on a fine woman. Many -fair ladies have I known take great pride therein, and use great pains -to have and to keep the same beautiful. Amongst others I have heard -tell of a noble Princess[146*] of the great world, and one that I did -myself know, which did cherish one of her ladies above all the rest, -and did favour her beyond all, for this only because she could draw on -her mistress’ hose so close and tight, and arrange them so cleverly -to fit the leg, and fasten the garter so prettily,—better than any -other. For this only reason she gat great preferment at her hands, and -even did win considerable wealth. Now in view of all this care she -took to keep her leg in such good trim, we may be very sure ’twas not -to hide the same under her petticoats or under skirts or frock, but -to make display thereof at whiles with fine drawers of cloth of gold -and silver, or other the like rich stuff, very prettily and daintily -made, which she did commonly wear. For verily a woman taketh not such -pleasure in her body without being fain to give others a share also in -the sight, yea! and the enjoyment thereof. - -Moreover this lady could not make excuse, saying ’twas all done to -pleasure her husband, as the most part of women, and even of old women, -will ever declare, whenas they do make themselves so seductive and gay, -though they be quite elderly; for she was a widow. True it is in her -husband’s lifetime she had done the same, and would not leave off the -habit afterward, merely because she had lost him. - -I have known many fair and honourable ladies, both wives and maids, -which are no less painstaking thus to keep their fine legs in well -cared for, seemly and attractive guise. And very right they be so to -do; for truly there is more wanton seduction doth lie therein than you -would readily suppose. - -I have heard speak of a very great lady, of the days of King Francis, -and a right fair dame, who having broken a leg and had the same set, -did after find ’twas ill done, and the limb was left all twisted. So -stout of heart was she, that she did make the bone-setter break it -afresh, for to restore it to its right shape as before, and make it as -fine and straight as ever. Hereat a certain lady did express no little -surprise; but another fair lady, and a well experienced one, did answer -thus and said, “Ah! I see plainly you know not what amorous virtue a -fine leg hath in it.” - -I knew in former days a very fair and honourable damsel of the great -world, who being much in love with a great Lord, for to attract him to -her and by way of trying some good device to win him to her,—a design -wherein she could never succeed, one day being in a wooded avenue and -seeing him approach, did make a pretense as though her garter were -coming down. So withdrawing a little on one side, she did lift up her -leg, and began to pull up her stocking and re-adjust her garter. The -great lord did note it all well, and found her leg an exceeding fine -one. Indeed he did lose his head so completely that this sight of her -did work more effect on him than ever her face had done, for he did -think to himself how that two such fine columns must needs support a -very fine building. And later he did admit as much to his mistress, who -afterward did with him as she would. A noteworthy device truly, and a -pretty bit of love practice! - -I have heard speak likewise of a fair and honourable lady, and one -especially witty and of a gay good humour, who one day, when her -chamber valet was a-drawing on of her hose, did ask him if this did not -put him in heat, temptation and concupiscence;[147] nay! she put it yet -more plainly, and said the plain word right out. The valet, thinking to -please and for the respect he bare his mistress, did answer her, No!—At -this she did of a sudden lift her hand and gave him a sound cuff on the -head, crying out, “Begone with you! you shall never serve me more. You -are a simpleton, and I do give you notice from this day.” - -There be many young ladies’ valets nowadays which be not so -self-restrained at the rising of their mistresses from bed and in the -dressing of them and putting on of their foot-gear. Moreover many a -gentleman would have found it hard to act thus, seeing so fair a treat -spread out before his eyes. - -’Tis not only in our own day men have esteemed the beauty of fine legs -and pretty feet (for ’tis one and the same thing); but in the time of -the old Romans likewise we do read how Lucius Vitellius, father of the -Emperor Vitellius, being very sore smit with love for Messalina and -desiring to be in favour with her husband by her means, did one day -beseech her to do him the honour of granting him a boon.[148*] The -Empress asked him, “What boon?”—“’Tis this, Madam,” he replied, “that -you be pleased one day to suffer me to take off your shoes.” Messalina, -who was ever full of courtesy for her subjects, could not refuse him -this favour. Then he, after removing her shoes, did keep one of them, -and bore the same always about with him betwixt his shirt and his skin, -kissing it as oft as ever he had opportunity, in this wise worshipping -his lady’s pretty feet in the guise of her slippers, forasmuch as -he could not have at his disposal the foot itself nor the fine leg -appertaining thereto. - -Then you have that English Lord in the _Cent Nouvelles_ of the Queen of -Navarre, which did in like wise wear his mistress’ glove by his side, -and that so richly adorned. Again I have known many gentlemen which, -before donning of their silk stockings, would beg their fair ladies and -mistresses to try on the same and wear them the first a week or ten -days, more or less; after which themselves would wear them in great -respect and high content of mind and body. - -I knew once a Lord of the great world, who being at sea with a very -great lady and one of the fairest of womankind, had the happiness, -seeing he was travelling with her through his country and as her women -were all ill of seasickness and so in very ill case to serve her, to -be obliged to put her to bed with his own hands every night and get her -up in the morning. But in so doing and in putting on of her foot-gear -and taking off the same, he did grow so much enamoured as to be well -nigh desperate, albeit she was his near kinswoman. For verily the -temptation herein was too exceeding great, and there doth not exist the -man so mortified in spirit but he is something moved by the same. - -We do read of the wife of Nero, Poppæa Sabina, which was the favourite -of all his wives and mistresses, how that, beside being the most lavish -of women in all sorts of superfluities, ornaments, embellishments, -gawds and costly weeds, she did wear shoes and slippers all of pure -gold. This luxury was not like to make her hide her foot and leg from -Nero, her cuckold mate; nor yet did he enjoy the sole delight and -pleasure of the sight, for there was many another lover had the same -privilege. Well might she display this extravagance for herself, seeing -she was used to have her horses’ hoofs, which did draw her chariot, -shod with shoes of silver. - -Saint Jerome doth reprove in very severe terms a lady of his time which -was over careful of the beauty of her leg, using these exact words: -“With her little brown boot, well fitting and well polished, she doth -decoy young men, and the tinkle of her shoe-buckles is a snare unto -them.” No doubt this was some dainty fashion of foot-gear in vogue in -those days, that was over luxurious and ill becoming to modest women. -The wearing of foot-gear of the sort is to this present day in use -among Turkish ladies, and those the best-born and most virtuous. - -I have seen the question raised and discussed which is the more -seductive and alluring, the naked leg, or the leg covered and -stockinged? Many hold there is naught like the natural article, when -’tis well made and perfectly turned, according to the points of beauty -enumerated by the Spaniard I did quote from a little above, and is -white, fair and smooth, and appropriately displayed in a fine bed. For -if it be otherwise and a lady were fain to show her leg all bare in -walking and so on, and with shoes on her feet, albeit she should be the -most magnificently dressed out possible, yet would she never be deemed -becomingly apparelled. Nor would she really and truly look so fair as -one that should be properly equipped with pretty hose of coloured silk -or else of white thread, such as be made at Florence for summer wear, -and which I have often seen our ladies wearing in former times, before -the great vogue we do now see of silk stockings. But the hose must ever -be drawn close and stretched as tight as a drum and so fastened with -clasps or otherwise, according to the preference and good pleasure of -the wearer. Further must the foot be fitted with a pretty white shoe, -or a slipper of black velvet or velvet of some other colour, or else a -neat little high-heeled shoe, cut to perfection, such as I have seen -a certain very noble lady of the great world wear, of such sort that -naught could well be better or more dainty. - -Wherein again the beauty of the foot must be considered. If this be -too large, ’tis not pretty; but an if it be too tiny, it doth give -a naughty hint and ill notion of its wearer. Rather it should be of -a middling size, as I have seen sundry which have been exceeding -appetizing, above all when their owners did thrust the same half in, -half out, and just show them beneath their petticoat, and make them -shift and quiver in little tricksome, wanton movements, being shod -with a pretty little high-heeled shoe, thinly soled, or else a white -slipper, pointed, not square-toed in front; but the white is the most -daintiest. But these little high-heeled shoes and pumps be for big, -tall women, not for the short and dwarfish ones, which do have their -great horse-shoes with soles two feet thick. One had as lief as these -see a giant’s club on the swing, or a fool’s bawble. - -Another thing a woman should beware of is the disguising her sex and -dressing herself as a boy, whether for a masquerade or for any other -occasion. For so attired, though she have the finest leg in the world, -yet doth she look ill-shapen in that part, seeing all things have their -proper setting and suitable array. Thus in falsifying of their sex, -they do altogether disfigure their beauty and natural grace. - -This is why ’tis not becoming for a woman to dress as a boy for to -display her charms to the more advantage,—unless indeed it be merely to -don a dainty, gallant cap with the Guelf or Ghibelline feather stuck -therein, or perched above the brow, in such wise to be distinctively -neither male nor female, after the fashion our ladies have of late -adopted. Yet even this doth not suit all women equally well; the face -must be saucy and of just the right expression to carry it off, as -we have seen in the case of our Queen Marguerite of Navarre. Her it -did suit so well that, seeing her face only when she was so bedecked, -no man could tell which sex she came the nearer to, whether she more -looked the handsome boy or the beautiful woman she really was. - -This doth remind me of another lady of the great world, and one I knew, -which wishing to imitate the same mode when about twenty-five years -of age, and altogether over tall and big statured, a great masculine -looking woman and but lately come to Court, and thinking to play the -gallant dame, did one day appear so attired in the ball-room. Nor did -she fail to be much stared at and rallied not a little on her costume. -Even the King himself did pronounce his judgement thereon, for indeed -he was one of the wittiest men in his realm, and declared she did -resemble a mountebank’s wench, or still better one of those painted -figures of women that are imported from Flanders and set up in front -of the chimney-pieces in inns and taverns with German flutes at their -lips. In fact he went so far as to have her told that if she did appear -any more in that dress and get-up, he would order her to bring her -flute with her for to play a merry greeting to the noble company withal -and divert them with her music. Such cruel sport did he make of her, as -well because the said head-gear did so ill suit her as for a grudge he -had against her husband. - -So we see such masquerading doth not suit all ladies alike. For when -this same Queen of Navarre, the fairest woman in all the world, was -pleased to adopt a further disguise beyond the cap, she did never -appear so fair as she really was, nor ever would have. And indeed what -shape could she have taken more beauteous than her own, seeing there -is none better she could have borrowed from any in all the world? And -if she had chose to show her leg, the which I have heard sundry of her -women describe as the finest and best ever known, otherwise than in its -proper form, and appearing well and fitly stockinged and shod below her -fine clothes, never would it have been deemed so handsome as it was. -Thus with a due regard to surroundings doth it behove fair ladies to -show and make display of their beauties. - - - 2. - -I have read in a Spanish book entitled _El Viage del Principe_, or “The -Prince’s Voyage,” to wit that which the King of Spain[149] did make in -his Province of the Low Countries, in the time of the Emperor Charles -his father, how among other fine receptions he did meet with among his -rich and wealthy cities of those parts, was one of the Queen of Hungary -in the fair city of Bains, which did give rise to a proverb, _Mas brava -que las fiestas de Bains_,—“Finer than the festivities of Bains.” - -Among other magnificent shows was this. During the siege of a sham -castle that was erected, and besieged in form as a place of war, (a -description of the same is given elsewhere in my Works), she did one -day give an entertainment, notable among all others, to the Emperor -her good brother, the Queen Eleanor her sister, the King her nephew, -and all the Lords, nights and ladies of the Court. Toward the end of -the show did appear a lady, accompanied by six Oreads, or mountain -nymphs, clad in the antique mode, in the costume of nymphs of the -Virgin Huntress, all attired in cloth of silver and green and crescents -on their brow all beset with diamonds in such wise that they seemed to -imitate the brilliancy of the moon, and carrying each her bow and arrow -in hand, and rich quivers at their side, their shoes in like wise of -cloth of silver, well fitting and well put on so as that they could not -be better. And so caparisoned they did enter the great hall, leading -their dogs after them, and did present to the Emperor and laid on the -table before him all sorts of game in pasties, the which they had taken -in their hunting. - -Thereafter did come Pales, the goddess of shepherds, with six nymphs of -the meadows, clad all in white of cloth of silver, with furniture of -the same on their heads all beset with pearls, wearing likewise hosen -of the same material with white slippers; and these did bring all sorts -of milk confections, and laid the same before the Emperor. - -Then for the third band, came the goddess Pomona, with her Naïads, -or water nymphs, which did bring the last offering of fruits. And -this goddess was the daughter of Donna Beatrix Pacecho, Comtesse -d’Autremont, lady-in-waiting of Queen Eleanor, a child at that time of -some nine years old.[150*] She it is that is now wife of the Admiral de -Chastillon, he having wedded her as his second wife. This pretty maid -and goddess did bring in, she and her companions, all sorts of fruits -such as could be found at that season, for it was Summer time, the -richest and rarest procurable, and did present the same to the Emperor -with a set speech so eloquent, so fine and pronounced with so sweet a -grace that she did win the great love and admiration of the Emperor and -all the company there assembled, her youth being taken in account, that -from that day forward ’twas foretold of all that she would be what she -is to-day, a fair, wise, honourable, virtuous, clever and witty lady. - -She was similarly attired as a nymph like the rest of her companions, -all being clad in cloth of silver and white, with hosen and shoes of -the same, and their heads decked with much wealth of jewels. But these -were all emeralds this time, to represent in part the colour of the -fruit they did offer. And besides the gift of fruit, she did make one -to the Emperor and the King of Spain of a Tree of Victory all enamelled -in green, the boughs laden with great pearls and precious stones, right -rich to behold and of inestimable worth; also to the Queen Eleanor a -fan, with a mirror in the mid thereof, the whole garnished with jewels -of great price. - -Verily this Princess and Queen of Hungary did show right well that she -was an honourable lady in all points, and that her address and tact was -as admirable as was her skill in the art of war. And indeed, by all I -have heard said, the Emperor her brother did feel no little content and -comfort to have so honourable a sister and so worthy of him. - -Now have I laid myself open to blame and might fairly enough be -asked why I have made this digression in the course of my Discourse. -’Tis to point out how that all these maids that did represent these -characters had been chose out and selected as being the fairest among -all the suite of the Queens of France and of Hungary and of Madame de -Lorraine,—being Frenchwomen, Italians, Flemish, German and Lorrainers. -In all the number was no defect of beauty; and God knoweth if the -Queen of Hungary had been painstaking and exact to choose such as were -fairest and most graceful. - -Madame de Fontaine-Chalandry, who is yet alive, could give us good -assurance of this, who was at the time maid of honour of the Queen -Eleanor, and one of the fairest. She was known also by the name of “the -fair Torcy,” and hath told me the tale of all these doings. And I have -it for sure both of her and from other quarters too how that all the -lords, gentlemen and knights of that Court did take their diversion in -looking at and examining fine legs, limbs and pretty little feet of -these ladies. For attired thus as nymphs, they were dressed in short -gowns, and could make a very engaging display, more enticing even than -their pretty faces, which admirers could see every day, whereas ’twas -not so with their other beauties. And so sundry courtiers did grow more -enamoured by the sight and display of these same fine legs, than ever -of their pretty faces, seeing that atop of such fine columns there be -commonly found fine cornices with their friezes, fine architraves, and -rich capitals, smoothly polished and curiously carved. - -So must I be allowed yet another digression, and to say my say -as I please, now we be upon the subject of shows and suchlike -representations. Almost at the same moment as these noble festivities -were a-doing in the Low Countries, and above all at Bains, on occasion -of the reception of the King of Spain, was made the state entry of King -Henri, on his way back from visiting his province of Piedmont and his -garrisons there, into Lyons, which was of a surety one of the finest -and most triumphant ever known, as I have heard honourable ladies and -gentlemen of the Court declare, which were there at the time. - -Well! if this show and representation of Diana and her hunt was found -admirable at these Royal festivities of the Queen of Hungary, another -was contrived at Lyons which was different again and still more -lifelike.[151*] For as the King was marching along, and just about to -reach a grand obelisk of Classic fashion, on the right hand of his way -he did actually find a meadow by the side of the high road surrounded -by a wall something more than six feet high, and the said meadow -within filled up with earth to the same height. This had been regularly -filled up with trees of moderate growth, planted in between with thick -undergrowth and many shrubs and smaller brushwood, as well as with a -good supply of fruit trees. In this miniature forest did disport them -many little stags all alive, and fawns and roebuck, though of course -tame ones. Presently his Majesty did hear sundry hunting-horns and -trumpets sound softly; and thereupon instantly did behold through -the aforesaid wood Diana a-hunting with her companions and forest -maids, holding in her hand a richly dight Turkish bow, and her quiver -hanging at her side, attired in the costume of a nymph, after the -fashion the remains of Antiquity do yet show us. Her body was clad in -a short doublet with six great round scallops of black cloth of gold, -strewn with silver stars, the sleeves and body of crimson satin with -borderings of gold, tucked up to mid thigh, displaying her fine limb -and pretty leg, and her sandals of the antique shape, set with pearls -embedded in embroideries. Her hair was interlaced with heavy strings of -rich pearls, with wealth of precious stones and jewels of price; while -above the brow a little silver crescent was set, blazing with tiny -little diamonds. For gold would not have been so well, nor so true a -representation of the natural crescent, which is clear and silvery. - -Her companions were accoutred in divers sorts of costumes of lustring -striped with gold, both wide and narrow stripes, always in the antique -mode, as well as sundry other colours of an antique sort, varied -and intermingled as well for curiousness of effect as for gaiety of -appearance. Hosen and shoes were of satin; their heads decked out in -like wise in the character of nymphs, with many pearls and precious -stones. - -Some were leading in leash sleuth-hounds, small greyhounds, spaniels -and other dogs by cords of silk white and black, the King’s colours -which he bare for the love of a lady named Diana whom he loved; others -did go along with and encourage the running dogs, that were in full -cry. Others again did carry little darts of hard wood,[152*] the point -gilded, and having pretty little hanging tassels of black and white -silk, and hunting-horns and trumpets mounted in gold and silver hanging -in bandoleers with cords of thread of silver and black silk. - -And so soon as ever they did perceive the King, a lion did sally forth -of the wood, which was tamed and trained long before for this, and did -throw himself at the feet of the said goddess, giving her welcome. So -she, seeing him so mansuete and gentle, did take him by a great rope of -silver cord and black silk, and on the instant did present the same to -the King. Thus coming forward with the lion to the edge of the wall of -the meadow bordering the road, and within a pace or so of his Majesty, -she did make offer to him of the beast in a rhymed stanza, of the sort -composed in those days, yet not so ill wrought either or ill sounding. -And according to this rhyme, the which she did pronounce with a very -good grace and sweetness, under the guise of the lion so gentle and -well behaved she did offer him his town of Lyons, now all gentle, well -behaved and brought under to his laws and orders. - -All this being said and done with a very sweet grace, Diana and all her -companions did make him an humble reverence; whereupon having looked at -them all with a favourable eye and greeted them graciously, signifying -he had found their hunting shows right agreeable and thanking them -heartily, he did so part from them and went on his way to his entry -into the city.[153*] Now observe that this same Diana and all her -nymphs were the most highly thought on and fairest wives, widows and -maids of Lyons, where is no lack of such, which did play their mystery -so well and in such engaging sort that the most part of the Princes, -Lords, gentlemen and courtiers were exceedingly delighted thereat. I -leave you to judge whether they had not good cause so to be. - -Madame de Valentinois, known as Diane de Poitiers, the King’s mistress, -in whose name this hunting was made, was not less well content, and did -like well all her life long the good town of Lyons. And indeed she was -their neighbour, by reason of the Duchy of Valentinois which is quite -close to that place. - -Well! as we are on the subject of the pleasure to be derived from -the sight of a fine leg, we may be assured, as I have heard say, -that not the King only, but all these Court gallants, did find a -marvellous great pleasure in contemplating and gazing at those of -these fair nymphs, so gaily attired and high kilted as that they did -give as much,—or more,—temptation to ascend to a yet higher level, as -admiration and reason to approve so pretty and pleasantly contrived a -divertisement. - -However, to quit our digression and return to the point at which we -left our main subject, I mention how we have seen played at our Court -and represented by our Queens right graceful ballets, and especially -by the Queen Mother; yet as a rule, for us courtiers we would be ever -casting our eyes on the feet and legs of the ladies which did take -part in them, and did find by far our greatest pleasure in seeing them -display their legs so agreeably, and so move and twinkle their feet -so nimbly as that naught could be better.[154*] For their petticoats -and frocks were much shorter than usual, though not so much so as in -the nymphs’ costume, nor so high as they should have been and as was -desired of many. Yet did our eyes fasten somewhat on those parts, and -especially when they were dancing the quick step, which making the -skirts to flutter up, would generally show something or other pleasant -to look at,—a sight that I have seen several find altogether too much -for them, so that they did lose all self-control over themselves. - -The fair ladies of Sienna, at the first beginning of the revolt of -their city and republic, did form three companies of the most beautiful -and greatest ladies were in that town. Each company did mount to a -thousand, so as the whole was three thousand strong. One company was -clad in violet lustring, one in white, and one in red, all being -attired as nymphs with very short skirts, in such wise that they did -make full display of fine limbs and legs. In this wise they did pass -in review before all their fellow townsmen as well as before his Grace -the Cardinal of Ferrara and M. de Termes, Lieutenants General of our -French King Henri, all firmly resolved and determined to die for the -Republic and for France, and all ready to give a hand to the work of -fortifying the said city. Indeed all and each did carry a fascine -ready on shoulder; and did rouse by their gallantry the admiration of -all. This tale I do set down in another place, where I am speaking of -high-spirited women; for truly ’tis one of the finest exploits was ever -done by gallant dames. - -For the present I will content me with saying how I have heard it told -by many gentlemen and soldiers, both French and foreign, and especially -by sundry of that town, that never aught finer was seen, seeing they -were all great ladies and of the chiefest families of that place, and -each fairer than another, for ’tis well known that beauty is far from -lacking in that city, but is very general therein. But if it were a -fine sight to behold their handsome faces, ’twas no less so to see and -gaze upon their handsome limbs and fine legs, with their pretty hosen -and shoes well fitting and well put on, as the dames of those parts -know right well how to do. Then they did all wear their gowns very -short, in the guise of nymphs, that they might march the easier,—the -which was enough to tempt and warm up the most chilliest and mortified -of mankind. And what did most pleasure the onlookers was this, that -whereas they might any day see their faces, they could not so behold -these fine and handsome legs of theirs. He was no fool which did devise -this same mode and costume of nymphs, for it doth readily afford many -fine sights and agreeable spectacles. The skirts be cut very short, and -are divided up the side to boot, as we do yet see it represented in the -fine Roman antiques, which doth still more flatter the wantonness of -the eye. - -But in our own day, with the fair ladies of Chios,[155*] matrons and -maids, what and how is it they be so attractive? Why! truly ’tis their -beauty and their charms of face and figure,—but also their superb -fashions of dress, and above all their very short gowns, which do make -full display of their dainty, well shod feet. - -This doth remind me how one time at Court a lady of very tall and -imposing figure, looking at a magnificent and noble hunting piece in -tapestry, wherein Diana and all her band of virgin huntresses were very -naturally represented, and all by the fashion of their dress did show -their pretty feet and fine legs, did chance to have with her one of -her companions, which was of very low and small stature, and who was -likewise diverting herself along with the other in examining the said -tapestry. To her she did say thus: “Ha! ha! little one, if all we women -did dress after that fashion, you would be in a bad way and would lose -all advantage, for your great high-heeled shoes would betray you; and -you would never have such grace in your walk, nor such charm in showing -of your leg, as we that are tall and stately. You would have to keep -close and scarce show at all. Give thanks then to the days we live -in and the long gowns we wear, which be so favourable to you, and do -hide your legs so conveniently. For indeed with your great high-heeled -shoes a foot tall, these be more like a cudgel than a woman’s leg. If -a man had never a weapon to fight withal, he would but have to cut off -a leg and grasp it by the end where your foot is shod and encased in -your high shoes, and he would have a beautiful club for the fiercest -encounter.” - -This lady was very right in what she said, for truly the prettiest leg -in the world, if it be so imprisoned in these great, heavy, high-heeled -shoes, doth lose its beauty altogether, seeing this great club foot -doth cause too great a deformity for anything; for if a pretty foot -well shod and dainty goeth not with the leg, all is of no avail. Now -these dames which do adopt these great, heavy, lumbering high-heeled -shoes think no doubt to embellish and better their figures and thereby -appear more beautiful and be the more loved; but on the other hand -they do worsen their fine leg and foot, which be surely in their -natural beauty worth as much as a fine tall figure that is but a sham. - -Similarly in time of yore, a pretty foot did carry with it so much of -wanton fascination, that many prudish minded and chaste Roman ladies, -or at the least such as did feign to be so,—and even in our own day -some do the like in Italy in imitation of antique morals,—do as much -scruple about showing this part in public as their faces, hiding it -under their flowing gowns all ever they can, so that none may see it; -and in walking do go so prudishly, discreetly and carefully as that it -never passeth out from under their robe. - -This is well enough for such as are trained in prudish bearing and -respectability, and are for never offering temptation; we must say this -much for them. Yet I ween, and if they had their free choice, they -would make display enough both of foot and leg, and of other things to -boot. Beside, they do consent to show the same to their husbands, for -all their hypocrisy and petty scruples about being dames of position -and respectability. However I but relate the fact as it is. - -I do know of a certain gentleman, a very gallant and honourable man, -which only by having seen at Rheims at the Consecration of the late -King, the lovely leg, in a white silk stocking, of a great and very -fair lady, a widow and of tall stature, from underneath those scaffolds -they erect for ladies to see the ceremony from, did fall so deep in -love with her as that he grew well nigh desperate with passion. Thus -what her handsome face had failed to effect, this her fine development -of leg did bring about; though truly the said lady did deserve by the -beauty of all her person to drive an honourable gentleman to his death. -And I have known other men too of the like humour. - -At any rate for final word will I say this, and I have known the same -to be held as an incontrovertible maxim by many gallant courtiers, my -comrades, that the display of a fine leg and pretty foot is a thing -most dangerously apt to fascinate wanton eyes to love; and I wonder -much that some of our many good writers, whether poets or others, have -never writ the praises thereof, as they have of other parts of fair -ladies’ bodies. For myself, I would have writ more on this subject, but -that I was afeared, if I did overmuch belaud these parts of the person, -I should be reproached as scarce enough heeding the rest. Beside I have -perforce to treat of other matters, and may not tarry too long over one. - -Wherefore I do now make an end with this little word of advice: “For -God’s sake, Ladies, be not so careful to make you seem of taller -stature and other than you are; but rather look to the beauty of your -legs, the which be so fair and fine, at any rate with some of you. But -ye do mar the charm of them with those monstrous high-heeled boots and -huge horse-shoes ye do wear. Doubtless ye do need such; but by having -the same of such exaggerated size, ye do disgust folk far more than ye -imagine.” - - * * * * * - -I have said my say. Whosoever will, may bepraise the other beauties of -woman, as sundry of our poets have done; but I maintain, a fine leg, a -limb well shapen and a pretty foot, do exercise no small fascination -and power in the realm of Love. - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - FOURTH DISCOURSE - - Concerning old dames as fond to practise love as - ever the young ones be. - - - 1. - -I have spoke afore of old dames which be fain to play the wanton; yet -do I further append this discourse here. So by way of commencement, I -will say how one day myself being at the Court of Spain and conversing -with a very honourable and fair lady, but withal something advanced in -age, I did hear her pronounce these words: _Que ningunas damas lindas, -o alo menos pocas, se hazen viejas de la cinta hasta abaxo_, “that -never a fair lady, or at the least very few such, are old from the -waist downwards.” On my asking her in what sense she did mean this, -whether ’twas the beauty of person from waist down that did never -diminish in any wise by reason of age, or the desire and appetite of -concupiscence that did not at all fail or grow chilled in these parts, -she did make answer she intended both the one and the other. “For -indeed,” she went on, “as to the prickings of the flesh, no cure is -there for these you must know, but death only; albeit old age would -seem to be an obstacle thereto. Yet doth every beautiful woman ever -fondly love her own self, and in so loving, ’tis not for her own, but -some other’s sake; and is in no wise like Narcissus, the which, so -foolish was the youth, himself lover and beloved, did think scorn of -all other affections.” - -A beautiful woman hath naught of this humour about her. So have I heard -it related of a very fair lady, which after first loving herself and -taking much joy of her own beauty alone and by herself, and in her bed -stripping of herself quite naked, and so looking at her own person, -and admiring and contemplating the same, did curse her hard fate to be -vowed to one sole husband that was not worthy to enjoy so fair a body, -holding him to be in no wise her equal in merit. At the last was she -so fired by such contemplations and sights and longings as that she -did bid a long farewell to her virtue and her marriage vow, and did -practise new love with a new lover. - -This is how a woman’s beauty doth kindle and inflame her, constraining -her to have resort to such, whether husbands or lovers, as may satisfy -her desire; while ’tis always the nature of one love to lead to -another. Wherefore being thus fair and sought after of some admirer, -and if she disdain not to answer to his passion, she is at once in the -snare. So Laïs, the famous courtesan, was used to declare, that so -soon as ever a woman doth open her mouth to make a gentle reply to her -friend, lo! her heart is flown, and the door opened straightway. - -Moreover no fair and honourable woman doth ever refuse any good -praise that men render her; and once she is gratified and doth suffer -such commendation of her beauty, grace and gentle ways, the which we -courtiers be ever wont to make by way of first assault of love, though -it may be some while a-doing, yet in the long run we do always win the -place. - -Further, it is a true thing that no beautiful woman, having once made -essay of the game of love, doth ever unlearn the same, and for ever -after is the sport right pleasant and delightsome to her. Just as when -a man hath grown accustomed to good living, ’tis exceeding disagreeable -to discontinue the same; and as this is better for the health, the more -a man is got on in years, (as the doctors declare), so the more a woman -advanceth in age, all the more is she greedy after the good cheer she -is accustomed to. This daintiness is nowise forgot or remitted because -of the weight of years, but more like by some long sickness, (so the -faculty tell us), or other accident; and albeit disinclination may be -experienced for some while, yet will the taste for such good things be -renewed anon. - -’Tis said, again, how that all activities do decrease and diminish -by reason of age, which doth rob folk of the strength to properly -exercise the same,—except only that of Venus, the which is carried out -very luxuriously, without sore trouble or much exertion, in a soft, -comfortable bed, and altogether at ease. I do speak now of the woman, -and not of the man, to the share of which latter falleth all the labour -and task-work in this province. A man then, once deprived of this -pleasure, doth easily and early abstain from further indulgence,—albeit -sometimes it may be in spite of himself; whereas a woman, be she of -what age she will, doth take to her, like a furnace, and burn up, all -stuff that cometh her way. Nay! even though a dame should be so aged -as to look but ill, and find herself in no such good case as in her -younger years, yet she may by dint of money find means to get gallant -cavaliers at the current rate, and good ones too, as I have heard say. -All commodities that cost dear do sore vex the purse,—(this goes -counter to Heliogabalus’ opinion, who the dearer he did buy his viands, -the better he thought them),—except only the commodities of Love, -the which be the more agreeable in proportion as they cost more, by -reason of the great desire felt to get good value of the bargain and -thoroughly enjoy the article purchased. So the poor talent one hath, is -made to do triple service, or even hundredfold service, if that may any -way be. - -This is what a certain Spanish courtesan meant by her word to two brave -gentlemen which did pick a quarrel together over her, and sallying -forth to her house, did take sword in hand and fall to a-fighting. But -she putting head out of window, did cry out to them: _Señores, mis -amores se ganan con oron y plata, non con hierro_,—“Nay! Sirs, my love -is won with gold and silver, not with iron.” - -All love well purchased is well and good. Many a lady and many a -cavalier which have done such traffic could tell us so much. But to -allege here examples of ladies,—and there be many such,—which have -burned as hot in their old age as ever in youth, and have satisfied, -or to put it better, have kept up, their fires with second husbands -and new lovers, would be for me now a waste of labour, seeing I have -elsewhere given many such. Yet will I bring forward one or two here -also, for my subject doth require it and is suitable to such matters. - -I have heard speak of a great lady, one that was as well talked about -as any of her day, which one day seeing a young gentleman with very -white hands, did ask him what he was used to do to have them so. To -this he made answer, by way of jape and jest, that so oft as ever he -could, he would be a-rubbing of them with the spirit of love. “Ah! -well,” she replied, “’tis my bad luck then; for more than sixty years -have I been washing myself therewith, and I’m just as bad as the day I -began. Yet do I bathe so every day.” - -I have heard speak of a lady of pretty advanced age, who wishing to -marry again, did one day ask a physician’s advice, basing her reasons -for so doing on the fact that she was exceeding full of all sorts of -evil humours, which had assailed and ever afflicted her since she -was a widow. Yet had this never so happed in the lifetime of her -husband, seeing that by dint of the constant exercises they did perform -together, the said humours were consumed. The physician, who was a -merry fellow, and willing enough to please her herein, did counsel -her to marry again, and in this fashion to chase away the humours -from her, saying ’twas better far to be happy than sad. The lady did -put this advice in practise, and found it answer very well, indeed, -superannuated as she was. This was, I mean, with a new husband and -lover,—which did love her at least as much for the sake of her good -money as for any pleasure he gat of her. Though of a surety there be -many quite old dames, with whom as much enjoyment is to be had as with -younger women; nay! ’tis sometimes greater and better with such, by -reason of their understanding the art and science of love better, and -so the more stimulating their lovers’ taste therefor. - -The courtesans of Rome and of Italy generally, when they are verging -toward ripe years, do maintain this maxim, that _una galina vecchia fa -miglior brodo che un’ altra_,—“an old hen doth make better broth than -any other.” - -The Latin poet Horace doth make mention of an old woman, which did so -stir and toss about when she came to bed, and move her so violently -and restlessly, that she would set not alone the bed but the whole -house a-trembling. A gallant old dame in sooth! Now the Latins do name -suchlike agitation and wanton movement _subare a sue_. - -We do read of the Emperor Caligula, that of all his women which he had, -he did love best Cæsonia, and this not so much by reason of her beauty, -nor because she was in the flower of age, for indeed she was by then -well on in years, but on account of her exceeding lustfulness and the -wantonness that was in her, as well as the good pains she did take in -the exercise thereof, and the experience her age, and long practise had -taught her, herein leaving all the other women in the lurch, albeit -handsomer and younger than herself. He was used to take her commonly -to the wars with him, clad and armed like a man, and riding in manlike -wise side by side with him, going so far even as often times to show -her to his comrades all naked, and make her exhibit to them her feats -of suppleness. - -Thus are we bound to allow that age had in no wise diminished the -lady’s beauty, seeing how greatly the Emperor was attached to her. -Natheless, with all this fond love he did bear her, very oft whenas he -was a-kissing and touching her fair neck, he could not hinder himself, -so bloody-minded was he, from saying: “Ah! the beautiful neck it is; -yet ’tis in my power at will to have it cut.” Alas and alas! the poor -woman was slain along with her husband with a sword thrust through -the body by a Centurion, and her daughter broken and dashed to death -against a wall,—the which could never have been but for the ill deeds -of her father.[156] - -We read further of Julia, step-mother of the Emperor Caracalla,[157] -how that one day being as it were by inadvertence half naked, she did -expose one-half of her body to his eyes; whereupon he said these words, -“Ha, ha! but I could relish it well enough, an if it were allowed me!” -She answered straightway, “So please you, know you not you are Emperor, -and therefore make laws instead of obeying them?” On hearing these -words and seeing her readiness, he did marry her and couple with her. - -A reply of pretty much the same import was given to one of our last -three French Kings, whose name I will not mention. Being enamoured and -fallen deep in love with a very fair and honourable lady, after having -made the earlier advances and preliminaries of his suit to her, did -one day cause his pleasure to be conveyed to her more at length by an -honourable and very judicious and adroit gentleman I know by name and -repute. So he, conveying to her the Sovereign’s little missive, did -use all his eloquence to persuade her to consent. But she, no fool at -this game, did defend herself the best she could by many excellent -reasons the which she well knew how to allege, without forgetting the -chiefest, her honour,—that mighty, or rather mighty small, treasure. At -the last, the gentleman after much disputing and many protestations, -did ask her finally what she did desire he should tell the King. Then -she, after some moments of reflection, did suddenly, as if brought to -bay, pronounce these words following: “What are you to tell him?” she -cried, “why! what else but this? tell him I know well enough that no -refusal was ever advantageous to any, man or woman, which doth make -such to his King and Sovereign; and that very oft a Prince, exerting -the power he hath, will rather give the orders and taking a thing than -go on begging and praying for it.” Not ill content with this reply, -the gentleman doth straightway bear it to the King; who taking time by -the fore-lock, doth hie him to the lady in her chamber, and without -any over great effort or resistance doth have his will. The reply was -at once witty, and showed her good will to pleasure her King. Albeit -men say ’tis never well to have sport or dealings with the King, yet -must we except this particular game, wherefrom never was ill advantage -gotten, if only the woman do behave her prudently and faithfully. - -To return to the afore named Julia, step-mother of the Emperor, she -must need have been a very harlot to love and take for husband one -which had on her own bosom slain some while before their own proper -son;[158] verily she was a base harlot and of base heart. Still ’twas a -grand thing to be Empress, and for such an honour all else is forgot. -This Julia was greatly loved of her husband, albeit she was well -advanced in years. Yet had she lost naught of her beauty; but was very -fair and very ready-witted, as those her words do witness, which did -make yet greater the bed of her greatness. - - - 2. - -Filippo Maria, Third Duke of Milan,[159] did wed as second wife -Beatrix, widow of the late deceased Facino Cane,[159] being then an old -woman. But she did bring him for marriage portion four hundred thousand -crowns, without reckoning other furnishings, rings and jewelry, which -did amount to a great sum, and quite wiped out all thought of her age. -Yet spite of all, she did fall under her husband’s suspicions of having -gone to play the wanton elsewhere, and for this suspicion was done to -death of him. You see how little did old age destroy her taste for the -games of love. We must e’en suppose the great practice she had had -thereof had but given her the desire for more and more. - -Constance, Queen of Sicily,[159] who from her youth up and near all her -days, had been vestal and never budged forth of a cloister-cell, but -lived there in life-long chastity, getting her freedom to come out in -the world at last at the age of fifty, though in no wise fair and quite -decrepit, yet was fain to taste the joys of the flesh and marry. She -did grow pregnant of a child at the age of fifty-two, and did desire to -be brought to bed publicly in the open meadows about Palermo, having -had a tent or pavilion set up there on purpose, to the end folk might -have never a doubt but the fruit of her body was verily to hand. And -this was one of the greatest miracles ever seen since the days of Saint -Elizabeth. Natheless the _History of Naples_[159] doth affirm ’twas -reputed a supposititious child. At any rate he did grow up a great man -for all that; but indeed these, and the greater part of valiant men, -are just the folk that be often bastards, as a high-born friend of mine -did one day remark to me. - -I knew once an Abbess of Tarascon, sister of Madame d’Usez, of the -noble house of Tallard,[160] which did leave off her religious habit -and quit her convent at over fifty years of age, and did wed the great -Chanay we have seen play so gamesome a part at Court. - - * * * * * - -Many other women of religion have done the like, whether in wedlock -or otherwise, for to taste the joys of the flesh, and this at a very -ripe age. If such as these do so, what are we to expect our everyday -dames to do, which have been broken in thereto from their tenderest -years? Is age like to hinder them from now and again tasting and eating -tit-bits, the customary enjoyment whereof they have so long been used -to? Else what would become of so many good strengthening soups and -cunningly compounded broths, so much ambergris and other warming and -comfortable drugs for to warm and comfort their stomach now grown old -and chilly? For ’tis not open to doubt but that such like decoctions, -while they do recreate and keep sound their weakly stomachs, do -likewise perform another function on the sly, in giving them more heat -of body, and rousing some degree of passionate warmth. This is sure -and certain,—without appealing to the opinion of physicians, to whom -however I do refer me as to the matter. - -And another and yet greater advantage for them is this. Being now aged -and coming nigh on to their fifty years, they need feel no more fear of -getting with child, and so have full, plenary and most ample freedom -to enjoy and make up all arrears of those pleasures which mayhap some -of them have not dared take hitherto for dread of the consequences. So -it is that there be many which do give more rein to their amours when -got to the wrong side of fifty than when still on the right. Not a few -ladies both of the highest and less exalted rank have I heard tell of -as being of this complexion, so much so that I have known or heard of -several that have many a time and oft longed for their fifty years to -have come and gone, to hinder them of conceiving and suffer them to -do it the more freely without risk or scandal of any sort. Nay! why -_should_ they refrain them on the approach of old age? Indeed you might -well say that after death itself there be women which yet feel some -movement and pricking of the flesh. This bringeth me to another tale I -must needs tell. - -I had in former days a younger brother called Captain Bourdeille,[161*] -one of the bravest and most valiant captains of his time. I am bound -to say thus much of him, albeit he was my brother, without going too -far in my panegyric of him. The same is proved by the fights he fought -both in battle and in the lists; for indeed he was of all gentlemen -of France the one that had most skill of arms, so that in Piedmont he -was known as one of the Rodomonts of those parts. He was slain at the -assault of Hedin, the last time that place was retaken. - -He was intended by his father and mother for a life of letters; and -with this view was sent at the age of eighteen into Italy to study. -He did take up his abode at Ferrara, for the reason that Madame Renée -de France, Duchess of Ferrara, was much attached to my mother, and -did keep him in that city to pursue his studies, for there was an -University there. However, seeing he was fitted neither by birth nor -disposition for this sort of life, he did study scarce at all, but did -rather amuse himself with the delights of love and courtship. In fact -he did fall deep in love with a certain French lady, a widow, which -was in the service of the Duchess, known as Mlle. de La Roche (or de -La Mothe) and did have much pleasure with her, each loving the other -exceeding well, till at the last my brother, being recalled home again -by his father, who saw he was ill fitted for letters, was reluctantly -constrained to return. - -The lady, loving him greatly, and greatly fearing it might turn out -ill with him, for she was much of Luther’s way of thinking, who was -then widely followed, did beg my brother to take her with him to -France and to the Court of Marguerite, Queen of Navarre,[162] in whose -service she had been, and who had given her to Madame Renée, when she -was married and went to live in Italy. My brother, who was young and -quite heedless, was only too glad of such excellent company, and did -willingly escort her to Paris, where the Queen was then residing. -This last was right glad to behold her, for of all women she was the -wittiest and most ready of tongue, and was a handsome widow to boot and -perfect in all accomplishments. - -My brother, after having tarried some days with my grandmother and -my mother, who was then performing her Court service, did presently -go home to see his father. After some while, sickening utterly of -letters, and seeing himself in no wise fitted for their pursuit, he -doth quit that career altogether and away to the wars in Piedmont and -Parma, where he did win much honour. So he did serve in these wars by -the space of five or six months without returning home. At the end -of this time he went to see his mother, who was at the time at Court -with the Queen of Navarre; the Queen was then holding Court at Pau, -and my brother did make his reverence to her as she was returning from -Vespers. Being one of the best natured Princesses was ever in this -world, she did receive him right graciously, and taking him by the -hand, did walk with him up and down the Church for an hour or twain, -asking him news of the wars in Piedmont and Italy and of many other -matters. To all this my brother did make answer so well that she was -very well satisfied (for indeed he was as ready of tongue as any of -his time) as well with his wit as with his person,—for he was a most -handsome man, and of the age then of twenty-four. At the last, after -long discourse with him, for ’twas ever the nature and complexion -of the said noble Princess in no wise to scorn good talk and the -conversation of good and honourable folk, gliding from subject to -subject and still walking up and down the while, she did quietly bring -my brother right over the tomb of Mlle. de La Roche, which had died -three months before, and there staid him. Presently taking his hand, -she said thus; “Cousin mine” (she called him so, seeing that a daughter -of Albret had married into our house of Bourdeille; but for all that -I do keep no greater state than another, nor suffer my ambition to -run away with me), “cannot you feel something move down below under -your feet?”—“Why! no, Madame,” he did reply.—“Nay! take heed and mark -carefully, cousin,” she did resume.—But my brother only made answer, -“Madame, I _have_ taken heed, but I can feel nothing moving. The stone -I tread on is firm enough.”—“Well, well! I must tell you then,” the -Queen went on, without keeping him longer in suspense, “that you are -standing above the tomb and the body of poor Mlle. de La Roche, whom -erst you did love so fondly; she is interred beneath this spot. Now -seeing that our souls do possess feeling after our death, how can we -doubt that this excellent creature, dead but lately, was moved so soon -as ever you came over her? And if you did not mark it by reason of the -grossness of the tomb, no doubt for this cause was she the more stirred -and moved in herself. Now forasmuch as ’tis a right pious office to -have memory of the dead, and specially of them we have loved, I do -beseech you give her a _Pater noster_ and an _Ave Maria_ and a _de -Profundis_ to boot, and sprinkle her resting place with holy water; so -shall you win the name of a very faithful lover and a good Christian. -And to this end will I now leave you,” and so quits him and hies her -away. My brother, (who is since dead), failed not to perform what she -had said, and then went to see her again; whereupon she did somewhat -take him to task and rally him, for she was familiar with folk,—in a -good sense that is,—and had graceful skill in gentle mockery. - -Such then was the view this Princess did hold, but more by way of witty -conceit and gentle sentiment than from actual belief, as I think. - -These gentle words of the Princess do further remind me of an epitaph -over a courtesan that is buried at the Church of our Lady of the People -(del Popolo) at Rome, which doth read thus: _Quaesco, viator, ne me -diutius calcatam amplius calces_, “To him that passeth by: ‘I have been -kicked and spurned enough in my lifetime; spurn me no more.’” The Latin -expression hath more grace than the English equivalent. I do put the -thing down here more by way of a jest than anything else. - -Well, to draw to an end, no need to be astonished that the Spanish -lady named above did hold the maxim she did enunciate good of all such -fair ladies as have been greatly loved of others, and have loved, and -do love, themselves, and do take delight in being praised, albeit they -may have but little left of their by-gone beauty. But yet ’tis ever -the chiefest pleasure you can give them, and the one they do love the -most, whenas you tell them they are still the same, and are in no wise -changed or aged, and above all those of them which grow not old from -the waist downwards. - -I have heard speak of a very fair and honourable lady which one day did -say thus to her lover: “I know not whether for the future old age will -bring me increasing inconvenience and incapacity,”—she was fifty-five -years old; “but, God be thanked, I did never do myself pleasure so well -as I do now, nor ever took greater joy therein. Whether this do last -out and continue till my extremest old age or no, I have no fault to -find, nor complaint to make of my days gone by.” - -Now as concerning love and concupiscence, I have both here and -elsewhere adduced examples enough, without dwelling longer on this -subject. Let us now consider a while the maxim as concerning this -special beauty of fair ladies, how that it doth not diminish by reason -of old age. - -For sure, the aforesaid Spanish lady did allege many good reasons and -seemly comparisons, likening these fair ladies to fine old buildings of -yore whose ruins do yet remain superb and imposing. So amid the noble -antiquities of Rome do we see the ruins of palaces, superb relics of -Collosseum and Thermæ, which to this day do plainly show what they once -were, and do inspire all beholders with wonder and awe, their mere -ruins being wondrous and surprising. Nay, more! on these same ruins -men do still build right noble edifices, proving that the foundations -be better and finer than fresh new ones. So very often in their -constructions, the which our good architects and masons do undertake, -if that they find some old ruins and ancient foundations, straightway -do they build on these, and that in preference to laying new ones. - -Likewise have I seen good galleys and ships built and reconstructed -on old hulls and old keels, the which had long lain in harbour doing -nothing; and these were every whit as good and sound as others which -the ship-carpenters did frame and build all new, and of new timber -fresh from the forest. - -Furthermore, our Spanish lady was used to say,—do we not many a time -see the summits of high towers carried away, overthrown and disfigured -by winds, storms and lightning, while the base doth remain safe and -sound? For ’tis ever against such lofty points that storms do spend -their fury. The sea winds moreover do corrode and eat away the upper -stones of a building and do wear them hollow more than those at the -bottom, seeing these be not so much exposed as the ones higher up. - -In like wise many fair ladies do lose the brilliancy and beauty of -their pretty faces by various accidents whether of cold or heat, of -sun and moon, and the like, as well as, more’s the pity, by reason of -various cosmetics, the which they do apply to them, thinking so to -heighten their charms, but really and truly spoiling all their beauty -thereby. Whereas in other parts, they do apply no other preparation but -only nature’s method, feeling therefore neither cold, nor rain, nor -wind, neither sun nor moon, none of which do affect them at all. - -If heat do inconvenience them, they know many means to gain relief -and coolness; as likewise they can guard against cold in plenty of -ways. So many inconveniences and injuries must needs be warded off -from a woman’s beauty of face, but few or none from that which lieth -elsewhere. Wherefore we should never conclude, because a woman’s -countenance is spoiled, that she is all foredone all over, and that -naught doth remain of fine and good, and that ’tis useless to build on -that foundation. - -I have heard a tale told of a certain great lady, which had been -exceeding fair and much devoted to love. One of her old lovers having -lost sight of her for the space of four years, through some journey he -did undertake, on returning from the same did find her sadly changed -from the fair countenance he had known erstwhile, the which did so -disappoint him and chill his ardour as that he did no more care to -board her nor to renew with her again the pleasure of former days. -She did recognize him readily enough, did endeavour all she could to -get him to come and see her. Accordingly to this end she did one day -counterfeit sickness, and when he had come to visit her by daylight did -thus say to him: “I know well enough, Sir! you do scorn me for my poor -face so changed by age; but come, look you, and see if there be aught -changed there. If my face has deceived you, at any rate there is no -deception about that.” So the gentleman examining her and finding her -as fair and sound as ever, did straight recover appetite and did enjoy -the flesh he had thought to be spoiled. “Now this is the way, Sir,” -said the lady, “you men are deceived! Another time, give no credence -to the lies our false faces tell; for indeed the rest of our bodies -doth by no means always match them. This is the lesson I would have you -learn.” - -Another lady of the like sort, being thus sorely changed of her fair -face, was in such great anger and despite against the same, that she -would never more look at it in her mirror, saying ’twas unworthy of so -much honour. So she had her head always dressed by her maids; and to -make up, would ever look at the other parts of herself only and gaze at -these, taking as much pride and delight therein as she had aforetime -done in her beautiful face. - -I have heard speak of another lady, who whenever she did lie by -daylight with her lover, was used to cover her face with a fair white -kerchief of fine Holland web, for fear lest, if he should look in her -face, the upper works might chill and stay his affection, and move him -to mere disgust; for indeed below was naught to chide at, but all was -as fine as ever. This doth remind me of yet another very honourable -lady I have heard tell of, who did make a diverting and witty reply. -Her husband one day asking her why her hair in one place was not grown -white and hoary like that of her head, “Ah, yes,” she did exclaim, “the -wretch it is! It hath done all the folly, yet doth it feel naught, nor -experience any ill consequences. Many and many a time hath it made my -head to suffer; whereas it doth ever remain unchanged, in the same good -estate and vigour, and keepeth the same complexion, and above all the -same natural heat, and the same appetite and sound health. But how far -otherwise it is with my other parts, which do endure aches and pains -for it, and my hair which hath long ago grown white and hoary.” - -And she had good reason so to speak; for truly this doth engender in -women many ills, and gout and other sicknesses. Moreover for being over -hot at it, so the doctors say, do they grow prematurely hoary-headed. -Thus we see fair ladies do never grow old in some parts, either in one -fashion or the other. - -I have heard many men relate,—men which have followed women freely, -even going with courtesans,—how that they have scarce ever seen pretty -women get old in certain parts, did always keep all their former -beauty, and good will and hearty disposition to boot as good as -aforetime. Nay, more! I have heard not a few husbands declare they did -find their _old women_ (so they called them) as fair and fine as ever, -and as full of desire and wantonness, beauty and good will, discovering -no change at all but of face, and were as fain to love them as ever -they were in their young days. - -In fine, how many men there be which do love old women for many reasons -better than young! Just as there be many which do love old horses -best, whether for a good day’s work, or for the riding-school and -display,—such animals as have been so well drilled in their youth as -that you will have never a fault to find with them when grown old. -Right well trained have they been, and have never after forgot their -pretty cunning. - -I have myself seen in our Royal stables a horse they called -_Quadragant_, first broke in the time of King Henri. He was over two -and twenty years old; but aged as he was, he yet went very well, and -had forgot naught of his exercises. He could still give his King, and -all which did see him go through his paces, great and real pleasure. -I have seen the like done by a tall charger called _Gonzago_, from the -stud-farm of Mantua, and which was of the same age as _Quadragant_. - -I have likewise seen that magnificent and well-known black, which had -been set to stallion’s work. Signor Antonio, who had charge of the -Royal stud, did show him me at Meung,[163] one day I did pass that way, -making him do the two strides and a leap, and the round step,—both -which he did execute as well as the day M. de Carnavallet had first -trained him,—for he was his horse. The late M. de Longueville was fain -to hire him of his master for three thousand livres; however King -Charles would not have it, but took him for himself, recompensing the -owner in another way. A whole host of others I could easily name; but -I should never have done, and so do refer me to those worthy squires -which have seen so many of the sort. - -Our late King Henri, at the camp of Amiens, had chose for his mount on -the day of battle an horse called _le Bay de la Paix_, a very fine and -strong charger, and aged. But he died of fever in the camp of Amiens; -so the most expert farriers did declare, but ’twas deemed a strange -thing to have happed. - -The late Duc de Guise did send to his stud-farm of Esclairon[163] for -the bay _Sanson_, which was there serving the mares as stallion, to be -his mount at the battle of Dreux, where he did carry him excellently. - -In his first wars the late Prince[164*] did take from the stud at Mun -two and twenty horses, which were there as stallions, to serve him in -his campaigns; and did divide the same among the different lords which -were with him, after reserving his own share. Whereof the gallant -Avaret did have a charger which the great Constable had given to King -Henri, and which was called _le Compère_ (Old Gossip). Aged as he was, -never was seen a better mount; his master did prove him in some good -tough rencontres, and he did carry him right well. Captain Bourdet gat -the Arab, on whose back our late King Henri was wounded and slain, a -horse the late M. de Savoie had given him, called _le Malheureux_ (the -Unlucky). This was his name when he was presented to the King, and -verily ’twas one of very ill omen to him. Never in his youth was he -near so good as he was in his old age; though ’tis true his master, -which was one of the most gallant gentlemen of France, did show him -ever to the best advantage. In a word, of all these stallions, was not -one that age did hinder from serving his master well, and his Prince -and country. Indeed there be some old horses that will never give up; -hence ’tis well said, no good horse doth ever become a mere hack. - - - 3. - -Of such sort be many fair dames, which in their old age be every whit -as good as other women in their youth, and do give as great pleasure, -from their having been in their time thoroughly well taught and -trained. And be sure such lessons are not easily forgot. Then again the -best of it is these be always most liberal and generous in giving, so -as to keep in hand their cavalier and riders, which do get more money -and demand an higher salary to bestride an old mount than a young one. -’Tis just the opposite with squires and real horsemen, which do never -care so much to mount broke horses as young ones that be yet to break. -However this is but reasonable after all. - -There is a question I have seen debated on the subject of women of -years, to wit: which doth bring the greater glory, to love a woman -of years and have the enjoyment of her, or to so do with a young -one. Not a few have I heard pronounce for the older woman. For they -would maintain that the foolishness and heat which be in youth are of -themselves debauched enough already and right easy to undo; whereas the -prudence and coldness that would seem natural to age cannot but with -difficulty be led astray. And so they which do succeed in corrupting -such win the higher repute. - -In like wise was the famous courtesan Laïs used to boast and glorify -herself greatly of the fact that the philosophers did come so oft to -visit her and learn in her school, more than of all the young and giddy -folks which did frequent her society. So also Flora was ever proud to -see great and dignified Roman senators arrive at her door, rather than -young and foolish gallants. Thus methinks ’tis great glory to vanquish -and overcome the wise prudence which should be in persons of ripe age, -so far as pleasure and satisfaction go. - -I do refer me to such men as have made experiment hereof, of the which -sundry have told me how that a trained mount is ever more agreeable -than a wild colt and one that doth not so much as know the trot. -Furthermore, what pleasure and what greatest delight may not a man -enjoy in mind, whenas he doth behold enter a ball-room, or one of the -Queen’s apartments, or a Church, or other place crowded with company, -a lady of ripe years and dignity, _de alta guisa_ (of lofty carriage) -as they say in Italian, and above all a lady of honour to the Queen or -some Princess, or the governess of some King’s daughter, young queen -or great princess, or mayhap mother of the maids of honour, one that -is chose out and set in this high and sober office by reason of her -modest and seemly carriage? You shall see her assuming all the part of -the prudish, chaste and virtuous dame, while everybody doth of course -suppose her so, by reason of her years; then what joy, when a man doth -think in his heart, or e’en say it out to some trusty comrade and -confidant of his, “Look at her yonder, with her solemn ways, her staid -and cold and scornful mien! To see her, would you not deem butter would -not melt in her mouth? Yet, alack-a-day! never a weathercock in all the -wide world doth so shift and whirl so swift and nimbly as doth she.” - -For myself, I do verily believe the man which hath known this joy and -can so say, is right well content at heart. Ha! ha! but I have known a -many such dames in this world, which did counterfeit to be most modest, -prudish and censorious duennas, yet were exceeding dissolute and -lecherous when they did come to it. Yea! and they would be put on their -backs far more than most young damsels, which, by reason of their too -much inexperience, be afraid of the gentle strife! So do they say there -is naught so good as old vixens for hunting abroad and getting food for -their cubs to eat. - -We read how of old days several Roman Emperors did take their pleasure -in the debauching and having their will of suchlike high-born ladies of -honour and repute, as well for the pleasure and contentment to be had -therein,—and in good sooth there is more with such than with women of -inferior sort,—as for sake of the glory and honour they did arrogate -to themselves for having so debauched and bested them. So in like -wise have I known in my own time not a few great Lords, Princes and -Noblemen, which have found great boast and great content at heart, by -reason of having done the same. - -Julius Cæsar and Octavius,[165*] his successor, were exceeding ardent -after such sort of conquests, as I have alleged before; and after -them Caligula, who summoning to his feasts the most illustrious Roman -ladies together with their husbands, would gaze steadfastly at the -same and examine them minutely, nay! would actually put out his hand -and lift their faces up, if by chance any of them did hang their heads -as conscious of being dames of honour and repute,—though truly other -some were fain but to counterfeit this modesty, and play the shamefaced -prude. But verily there cannot have been a many genuine prudes in -the days of these dissolute Emperors; yet must they needs make the -pretense, albeit nothing more. Else had the game not been worth the -playing; and I have myself in our day seen many a fair lady do the like. - -Afterward such of them as did hit the worthy Emperor’s taste, these he -would take aside openly and from their very husbands’ side, and leading -them from the hall would escort them to a privy chamber, where he would -take his pleasure of them to his full content. This done he would -lead them back to sit down once more in their place; and then before -all the company would proceed to commend their beauties and special -hidden charms that were in them, specifying these same separately -and severally. And any which had any blemishes, faults or defects of -beauty, these he would by no means let off in silence, but was used -always to describe and declare the same openly, without disguising or -concealing aught. - -Nero was even yet worse than this, being so curious as that he did -examine his own mother’s dead body, gazing steadfastly upon the same -and handling all her limbs and parts, commending some and abusing -others. - -I have heard the same thing told of sundry great Lords of Christian -days, which have had this same strange curiosity toward their dead -mothers. - -Nor was this all with the said Caligula; for he was used to retail -all their movements, their naughty ways and tricks, and the modes and -fashions they did follow in their doing of it, and in special of any -which had been modest and prudish, or which had made pretense to be so -at table. For verily if a-bed they were fain to do the like, there is -small doubt but the cruel tyrant did menace them with death, unless -they would do all his pleasure for his full content, and so constrained -them by the terror of execution. Then after would he speak despitefully -of them to his heart’s content, to the sore shame and general mockery -of the poor dames, who thinking to be accounted chaste and modest as -ever women can be, and to play the hypocrite and counterfeit _donne da -ben_ (virtuous ladies), were utterly and entirely revealed in their -true colours and made known as mere harlots and wanton wenches. And -truly this was no bad business so to discover them in a character they -did never wish to be known. And better still, ’twas always, as I have -said, great ladies that were so entreated, such as wives of consuls, -dictators, prætors, quæstors, senators, censors, knights, and others -of the highest estate and dignity, as we might say in our own days and -Christian lands, mighty Queens, (which yet are not to be compared -with Consuls’ wives, seeing these were paramount over all men), -Princesses of greater and less puissance, Duchesses, Marchionesses, and -Countesses, great and small, Baronesses, Knights’ dames, and the like -ladies of rank and rich estate. And truly there is no doubt at all but -that many Christian Emperors and Kings, if they had the power to do the -like of the Emperor Caligula toward ladies of such quality, would avail -themselves thereof. But then they be Christians, which have the fear -of God before their eyes, his holy ordinances, their own conscience -and honour, and the ill-repute of their fellows, to say naught of the -ladies’ husbands, to whose generous spirit suchlike tyranny would be -unendurable. Wherein of a surety our Christian Kings be deserving of -high esteem and commendation, thus to win the love of fair ladies -rather by dint of gentleness and loving arts than by brute force and -harsh rigour,—and the conquest so gained is by far a nobler one. - -I have heard speak of two great Princes[166] which have taken exceeding -pleasure in thus discovering their ladies’ beauties, charms and -especial graces, as well as their deformities, blemishes and defects, -together with their little ways, privy movements and wanton wiles,—not -however in public, as did Caligula, but in privity, with their close -and particular friends. Truly a sad fashion to entreat the pretty -persons of these poor ladies. Thinking to do well and sport agreeably -for to pleasure their husbands, they be but scorned therefor and made a -laughing-stock. - -Well, to return to our former comparison,—just as we do see beautiful -buildings based on better foundations and of better stone and material -some than others, and for this cause endure longer in their glory and -beauty, even so there be some dames of bodies so well complexioned and -fairly fashioned, and endowed with so fine a beauty, as that time doth -in no wise so prevail over them as with others, nor seem to undermine -their comeliness at all. - -We read in history how that Artaxerxes,[167] among all the wives he -had, did love the most Astacia, which was a woman of very ripe age, yet -still most beautiful, and had been the mistress of his late brother -Darius. His son did fall so deep in love with her, so exceeding fair -was she in spite of years, that he did demand to share her with his -father, in the same way as his share of the Kingdom. But the father, -angered by this and jealous at the notion of another sharing with him -this dainty morsel, did make her Priestess of the Sun, forasmuch as in -Persia women which hold this estate must vow themselves to absolute -chastity. - -We read again in the History of Naples how Ladislas, a Hungarian and -King of Naples, did besiege in Taranto the Duchess Marie, widow of -Rammondelo de Balzo, and after sundry assaults and feats of arms, did -take her by arrangement with her children, and wed her, albeit she was -of ripe years, yet exceeding fair to look upon, and carried her with -him to Naples. She was thereafter known as Queen Marie and fondly loved -and cherished of the King. - -Myself once saw the fair Duchesse de Valentinois (Diane de Poitiers) -at the age of seventy, as fair of face, as fresh-looking and lovable -as at thirty; and verily she was well loved and courted by one of the -greatest and most gallant Kings in all the world. I may tell her age -frankly, without wrong to the beauty of this fair lady, seeing whenever -a lady is loved of a great King, ’tis sure sign perfection doth -abundantly reside in her, and make her dear to him. And surely that -beauty which is given of heaven should never be spared in favour of -heaven’s demigods. - -I saw this lady, six months before she died, still so very fair I can -imagine no heart so flinty as not to have been stirred thereby, and -though a while before she had broke a leg on the stony pavement of -Orleans, riding and sitting her horse as lightly and cleverly as she -had ever done. But the horse slipped and fell under her; and for this -broken limb, and all the pains and sufferings she did endure, one would -have thought her fair face must have been changed. But nothing of the -sort, for her beauty, grace, majesty and gallant mien were just what -they had ever been. And above all, she did possess an extraordinary -whiteness of skin, without any recourse had to paint; only ’tis said -that every morning she did employ certain washes compounded of spring -water and sundry drugs, the which I cannot name like good doctors or -cunning apothecaries can. I do believe that if this fair lady had -lived yet another hundred years, she would never have aged, whether -in face, so excellently framed was it, or in body, the parts covered -and concealed that is, of such excellent temper and good condition was -this. The pity is earth should ever cover these beauteous forms! - -Likewise myself have seen the Marquise de Rothelin,[168] mother of the -Dowager Princess de Condé and the late deceased M. de Longueville, in -no wise diminished of her beauty by time or age, but keeping the fresh -flower of her youth as aforetime, except only that her face did grow -something redder toward the end. Yet did her beautiful eyes, that were -unmatched in all the world, and which her daughter hath inherited, -never alter, but were to the last as meet to wound hearts as ever. - -Another I have seen in like case was Madame de la Bourdaisière,[169] -afterward by a second marriage wife to the Maréchal d’Aumont. This lady -in her later days was so fair to look on you would have said she was -in her early youth still, and her five daughters, all beautiful women, -did in no wise eclipse her. And readily enough, if the choice had been -to make, would a man have left the daughters to take the mother in -preference; yet had she borne a number of children. And truly of all -women she did most take heed of her good looks, for she was a mortal -enemy of the night damp and moonlight, and did avoid these all ever she -could. The ordinary use of paint for the face, practised by so many -ladies, was quite unknown to her. - -I have also seen, and this is a more striking instance still, Madame -de Mareuil, mother of the Marquise de Mézières and grandmother of the -Princess-Dauphin, at the age of an hundred, at which she died, looking -as fresh and upright, as alert, healthy and comely as at fifty. She had -been a very handsome woman in her younger days. - -Her daughter, the Marquise de Mézières named above, was of like sort -and died in the like good case, but she was twenty years younger when -this took place, and her figure had shrunk somewhat. She was aunt of -Mme. de Bourdeille, my elder brother’s wife, and did bring him the like -excellent qualities. For albeit she have passed her fifty-third year -and hath had fourteen children, one may truthfully say this,—and others -which see her are of better judgment than I, and do assure me of the -fact,—that the four daughters she hath by her side do look like her -own sisters. So do we often see winter fruits, and relics of the past -season, match those of Summer itself, and keep their sweetness, and be -as fine and savour as these, and even more. - -The Amirale de Brion too, and her daughter, Mme. de Barbézieux,[170] -did continue very handsome women to quite old age. - -I have been told of late how that the fair Paule de Toulouse,[170] so -renowned of old days, is yet as beautiful as ever, though she is now -eighty-four, and no change is to be seen, whether in her fine, tall -figure or her beautiful face. - -Another I have seen is the Présidente de Conte, of Bordeaux, of equal -age and equal beauty, in all ways most lovable and desirable; and -indeed she was a woman of many perfections. Many other such could I -name, but I should never have done. - -A young Spanish knight speaking of love to a lady of advanced age, but -still handsome, she did make him this answer: _A mis completas desta -manera me habla V. M.?_ “How can you speak so to my complines?”—meaning -to signify by complines her age and the decline of her best days, and -the approach of night. The knight did reply: _Sus completas valen mas, -y son mas graciosas que las horas de prima de qualquier otra dama_, -“Your complines are better worth, and more fair and delectable than the -hours of prime of any other lady.” A very pretty conceit surely! - -Another speaking in like wise of love to a lady of ripe years, and -she making objection to him of her withered beauty,—which yet was not -over and above so,—did thus answer her: _A las visperas se conoce la -fiesta_,—“at vespers is the feast at its best.” - - - 4. - -We have yet among us to this day Madame de Nemours, of yore in the -April of her beauty the wonder of the world, which doth still defy -all devastating time. I may truly say of her, as may all that have -seen her with me, that she was erst the fairest dame, in her blooming -days, in all Christendom. I did see her one day dance, as I have told -elsewhere, with the Queen of Scots, they twain all alone together and -without any other ladies to bear them company, by way of a caprice, so -that all such, men and women, as did behold them knew not to which to -adjudge the palm of beauty. Verily, as one said at the time, you would -have thought them those two suns which we read in Pliny to have once -appeared together in the sky, to dazzle the world. Madame de Nemours, -at that time Madame de Guise, did show the more luxurious figure; and -if it be allowed me so to say without offence to the Queen of Scots, -she had the more imposing and apparent dignity of port, albeit she was -not a Queen like the other. But then she was grand-daughter of that -great King,[171] the father of his people, whom she did resemble in -many of her features, as I have seen him portrayed in the gallery of -the Queen of Navarre, showing in every look the great monarch he was. - -I think I was the first which did call her by this name of -Grand-daughter of the great King, Father of his People. This was at -Lyons, time when the King did return out of Poland; and often would -I call her so, and she did me the honour to deem it well, and like it -at my hands. She was in very deed a true grand-daughter of that great -King, and especially in goodness of heart and beauty. For she was ever -very good-hearted, and few or none are to be found that she ever did -ill or displeasure to, while many did win great advantage in the time -of her favour, that is to say in the time of her late husband, Monsieur -de Guise, which did enjoy high consideration in France. Thus were there -two very noble perfections united in this lady, goodness and beauty, -and both of these hath she right well maintained to this present day, -and by their means hath married two most honourable husbands, and two -that few or none at all could have been found to match. And indeed, and -if another could be found of like sort and worthy of her, and if she -did wish for a third, she might well enjoy one more, so fair is she yet. - -And ’tis a fact that in Italy folk do hold the ladies of Ferrara for -good and tasty morsels,—whence hath come the saying, _potta ferraresa_, -just as they say, _cazzo mantuano_ (a Mantua verge). As to this, when -once a great Lord of that country was making court to a great and -beauteous Princess of France, and they were all commending him at -Court for his excellent merits, valiance and the high qualities which -did make him deserving of her favours, there was one, the late M. -d’Au,[172] Captain of the Scottish Guards, which did come nearer the -point than any with these words, “Nay! you do forget the chief of all, -his _cazzo mantuano_ to wit.” - -I did once hear a like speech, how when the Duke of Mantua, which -was nicknamed the _Gobin_ (Hunchback), because he was excessively -hunchbacked, was desirous of wedding the sister of the Emperor -Maximilian, the lady was told that he was so sadly deformed. But she -only made answer, as ’tis said: _Non importa purche la campana habbia -qualche diffetto, ma ch’ el sonaglio sia buono_ (“No matter if the bell -have some flaw, provided the clapper be good”),—meaning thereby this -same _cazzo mantuano_. Some indeed aver she did never say the thing at -all, seeing she was too modest and well brought up; but at any rate -others did say it for her. - -But to return to this same Princess of Ferrara,[173*] I did see her -at the marriage of the late M. de Joyeuse appear clad in a mantle of -the Italian fashion, the sleeves drawn back half way up the arms in -the Siennese mode. But there was no lady there which could outshine -her, and no man but said: “This fair Princess cannot make herself -any fairer, so fair is she already. And ’tis easy to judge by her -beauteous face that she hath other hidden beauties of great charm and -parts which are not seen. Just as by looking at the noble façade of a -fine building, ’tis easy to judge that within there be fair chambers, -antechambers and closets, fair alcoves and privy places.” In many -another spot likewise hath she displayed her beauty, and no long -while since, in this autumn of her days, and especially in Spain at -the marriage of Monsieur and Madame de Savoie, in such wise that the -admiration of her and her charms did remain graven in that land for all -time. And if my pen had wings of power and range enough to raise her -to the skies, right gladly would I devote it to the task; but ’tis too -weak for such emprise. Yet will I speak of her again later. No doubt is -there but this Princess was a very beautiful woman in her Springtide, -her Summer and Autumn, yea! and is still in her Winter, albeit she hath -had many griefs and many children. - -The worst of it is that the Italians, scorning a woman which hath had -a number of children, do call such an one _scrofa_, that is to say a -“sow.” But surely they which do bear handsome, gallant and noble sons, -as did this Princess, are praiseworthy, and do in no wise merit this -ugly name, but rather that of heaven’s favourites. - -I will only add this remark: What a strange and wondrous inconsistency -is here, that the thing of all others most fickle and inconsistent doth -offer such resistance to time, to wit a pretty woman! ’Tis not I which -do say this; sorry should I be to do so. For truly I do esteem highly -the constancy of many of the sex, nor are all inconstant. ’Tis from -another I borrow the remark. - -I would gladly adduce the names of ladies of other lands, as well as of -our own, that have still been fair in their Autumn and Winter; but for -this while I will mention two only in this class. - -One is the good Queen Elizabeth of England, the which is reigning at -this day, and who they tell me is as fair as ever. If this be true, I -do hold her for a very fair and beauteous Princess; for myself have -seen her in her Summertide and in her Autumn season. As for her Winter, -she doth now approach near the same, if she be not there already; for -’tis long ago I did see her, and the first time ever I saw her, I know -what age they did give her then.[174*] I do believe what hath kept her -so long in her prime of beauty is that she hath never been wed, nor -borne the burden of marriage, the which is a very grievous one, above -all when a woman hath many children. The said Queen is deserving of all -praise on all accounts, were it not for the death of that gallant, -beautiful and peerless Princess, the Queen of Scots, the which hath -sore stained her good repute. - - - 5. - -The second foreign Princess I shall name is the Marquise de Gouast, -Donna Maria of Aragon, which lady myself have seen still very beautiful -in her final season. And I will show this in an account, the which I -will abridge all ever I can. - -After the death of King Henri[175] of France, one month later died also -Pope Paul IV.,[175] Caraffa, and it became needful for the election of -a new Pope that all the Cardinals should meet together. Amongst others -there came from France the Cardinal de Guise, and did fare to Rome -by sea with the King’s galleys, whereof the General was François de -Lorraine, Grand Prior of France, brother of the said Cardinal, who did -convoy him, as a good brother should, with a fleet of sixteen galleys. -And they did make such good speed and with so fine a wind astern, as -that they did arrive in two days and two nights at Civita Vecchia, and -from there presently to Rome. But being come thither, the Grand Prior -seeing they were not yet ready to proceed to the new election (and as -a fact it was yet three months more a-doing), and that accordingly his -brother could not at present return, and his galleys were but lying -idle in port meantime, he did determine to go on to Naples to see that -town and spend his leisure there. - -So on his arrival, the Viceroy, at that time the Duke of Alcala, did -receive him as if he had been a King. But before his actual arrival -he did salute the town with a very fine salvo of artillery which did -last a great while; and the same honour was repaid him by the town and -its forts, so as you would have said the very heavens were strangely -thundering during the said cannonade. And keeping his galleys in line -of battle and review order, and at some distance to seaward, he did -despatch in a skiff M. de l’Estrange,[176*] a gentleman of Languedoc, -a very discreet and honourable man, and one which could speak very -gracefully, to the Viceroy, to the end he might not startle him, and to -ask his leave (seeing that albeit we were at peace and on the best of -terms we did come with all the terrors of war) to enter the harbour, -for to see the town and visit the sepulchres of his ancestors which -were there interred, and cast holy water upon them and make a prayer. - -This the Viceroy did accord very readily. Then did the Grand Prior -advance and renew the salvo with as fine and furious a cannonade as -before, both with the main-deck guns and his sixteen galleys and other -pieces of ordnance and with arquebus fire, in such wise that all his -fleet was a mass of flame. So did he make entry most proudly to the -mole, with standards and pennants flying, and dressed with flags of -crimson silk, and his own of damask, and with all the galley-slaves -clad in crimson velvet, and the soldiers of his body-guard the same, -and wearing short cloaks covered with silver broidery. The commander -of these was Captain Geoffroy, a Provençal and a brave and gallant -soldier. Altogether our French galleys were found of all right fine, -swift and well careened and above all the “Ship Royal,” to the which -never a fault could be found; for indeed this Prince was in all ways -exceeding magnificent and right liberal. - -So being come to the mole in this gallant array, he did there land and -all we his suite with him, at a spot where the Viceroy had commanded -to have ready horses and coaches for to receive us and carry us to the -town. And truly we did there find an hundred steeds,—coursers, jennets, -Spaniards, barbs and other horses, each finer than the other, with -saddle-cloths of velvet all wrought with broidery, some silver and -some gold. He that would ride a-horse did so, and he that preferred to -go in a coach, found one ready, for there were a score there of the -finest and richest, excellently horsed and drawn by the finest cattle -ever seen. There too stood many great Princes and Lords, as well of the -Kingdom of Naples as of Spain, which did welcome the Grand Prior most -honourably on behalf of the Viceroy. On landing he did mount a Spanish -horse, the finest I have seen for many a long day, which the Viceroy -did after present to him; and did manage him right well, and make him -perform some brilliant curvets, as was much spoke of at the time. -The Prince, who was a very good horseman, as good indeed as he was a -seaman, did make a very fine show thus mounted; and he did display his -horse’s paces to the best advantage, and in most graceful style, seeing -he was one of the handsomest Princes of his day, and one of the most -pleasant and accomplished, and of a fine, tall and active figure,—which -is a rare thing with suchlike great personages. Thus was he conducted -by all these Lords and many another noble gentleman to the Viceroy’s -Palace, where this last did await him and paid him all possible honour, -and lodged him in his own house, and did feast him most sumptuously, -both him and all his band. This he was well able to do, seeing he did -profit him by twenty thousand crowns through this journey. We were, I -daresay, a couple of hundred gentlemen that were with him, Captain of -galleys and others, and were lodged with most of the great Lords of the -city, and that most sumptuously. - -First thing in the morning, on coming out from our chambers, we did -find attendants so well appointed as that they would present themselves -instantly to ask what we were fain to do, and whither we would go to -take our pleasure. And if we did call for horses or coaches, in a -moment, our wish was no sooner expressed than satisfied. So they would -away at once to seek whatever mount we did crave, and all these so -fine, rich and magnificent as might have contented a King; and then -off on our way to take our day’s pleasure, in such wise as each did -prefer. In very fact were we well nigh spoiled by excess of enjoyment -and all delights in that fair city; nor can we say there was any lack -of such, for indeed I have never seen a town better supplied therewith -in every sort. One alone was wanting, to wit the familiar converse, -frank and free, with ladies of honour and repute,—for of others there -was enough and to spare. But the defect was well and wisely remedied -for the time being by the complaisance of this same Marquise de Gouast, -in whose honour is the present discourse writ. For she, being a right -courteous lady and full of all honourable feeling, and well fitting -the nobility of her house, having heard the high repute of the Grand -Prior for all the perfections that were in him, and having seen him -pass through the city on horseback and recognized his worth, as is meet -between folk of high station toward one another, with the magnanimity -she did ever show in all things, did send one day a very honourable -and well mannered gentleman of her attendance to greet the Prince from -her, charging him to say, that if her sex and the custom of the country -had suffered her to visit him, she would right gladly have come very -readily to offer him her best services, as all the great Lords of the -Kingdom had done. But she did beg him to take the will for the deed, -offering him the use of her houses, castles and her best service in all -things. - -The Grand Prior, who was courtesy itself, did thank her most heartily, -as was but meet; and did send word how that he would come to kiss -her hands straightway after dinner. And this he did not fail to do, -accompanied by all of us gentlemen which were with him in his suite. We -did find the Marquise in her guest hall along with her two daughters, -Donna Antonina and Donna Hieronima,—or was it Donna Joanna?[177*] for -indeed I cannot say for sure, it having now slipped my memory,—as well -as many other fair dames and damsels, so richly apparelled and of such -a charming grace as that I have never, outside our own Court of France -and that of Spain, seen elsewhere a more beauteous band of fair ladies. - -Then did the Marquise salute the Grand Prior in the French fashion -and did welcome him with every mark of honour; and he did return the -same, even yet more humbly,—_con mas gran sosiego_ (with the very -greatest respect), as they say in Spanish. Their discourse was for the -present of mere commonplaces; while the rest of us, such as could speak -Italian or Spanish, did accost the other ladies, whom we did find most -honourable and gallant, and of very pleasing conversation. - -On our departure, the Marquise, having learned from the Grand Prior -that he did purpose to make a stay of a fortnight in the place, said -thus to him: “Sir, if at any time you know not what to do and are in -lack of pastime, your coming hither will ever do me much honour, and -you shall be most welcome, as it were at the house of your own lady -mother; and I beg you to use the same precisely as though it were your -own, neither more nor less. I have the good fortune to be loved and -visited by honourable and fair dames of this Kingdom and city as much -as any lady therein; and seeing your youth and merit do set you to love -the conversation of honourable ladies, I will beseech them to resort -hither yet more frequently than they do use, to bear you company and -all the fair and noble gentlefolk which be with you. Here stand my -two daughters, the which I will direct, albeit they are not so well -accomplished as they should be, to bear you company after the French -fashion, to wit to laugh, dance, play and talk freely, modestly and -honourably, even as you do at the Court of France. And I would gladly -enough offer myself for one; only ’twould be very irksome to a young -Prince, handsome and gallant like yourself, to have to entertain an -old woman, worn out, tiresome and unlovable such as I. For verily and -indeed youth and age do scarce accord well together.” - -These words the Grand Prior did straightway take objection to, assuring -her that old age had gat no hold at all upon her, and that he would -never hear of any such thing, but that her Autumn did overpass all the -Springtides and Summers that were in that hall. And truly she did still -seem a very handsome and very lovable woman, yea! even more than her -two daughters, pretty and young as these were. Yet was she then very -nigh sixty good years old. This little speech of the Prince did much -pleasure the Marquise, as we could easily see by her laughing face and -all her words and ways. - -We did leave her house exceeding delighted with the lady,—and above all -the Grand Prior himself, who had instantly fallen in love with her, -as he did inform us. Little doubt then but this fair and honourable -lady, and her fair band of attendant dames, did draw the Grand Prior to -resort every day to her house; for indeed if we went not there after -dinner, we did so in the evening. The Prince did take for mistress her -eldest daughter, albeit he did better love the mother; but ’twas done -_per adumbrar la cosa_,—“to veil the matter.” - -Tiltings at the ring were held in plenty, whereat the Grand Prior did -bear away the prize, as well as many ballets and dances. In a word, the -gay society he did enjoy was the cause of this, that whereas he had -purposed to tarry but a fortnight, we were there for a good six weeks. -Nor were we in any wise irked thereby, for we had likewise gotten us -mistresses no less than our General. Nay! we had certainly remained -longer still, had not a courier come from the King, bringing him news -of the breaking out of the war in Spain. For this cause he had to weigh -anchor and carry his galleys from the Eastern shore to the Western, -though in fact they did not cross over till eight months later. - -So had we to take leave of all these delightsome pleasures, and quit -the good and gracious town of Naples; and truly ’twas not without great -sadness and many regrets to our General and all of us, but we were -right sorry to leave a place where we had been so happy. - -At the end of some six years, or mayhap longer, when we were on our -way to the succour of Malta, I was again at Naples and did make enquiry -if the aforesaid fair lady were yet alive. I was told yes! and that -she was in that town. Instantly I made a point of going to see her; -and was immediately recognized by an old seneschal of her house, which -did away to tell his mistress that I was fain to kiss her hands. She, -remembering my name of Bourdeille, did summon me up to her chamber to -see her. I found her keeping her bed, by reason of a slight rash she -had on one of her cheeks. She did make me, I swear, a right excellent -welcome. I did find her very little changed, and still so handsome a -woman she might well have made any man commit a mortal sin, whether in -will or deed. - -She did ask me eagerly for news of my late General the Grand Prior, -and lovingly, and how he had died; and saying she had been told how -that he had been poisoned, did curse an hundred times over the wretch -that had done the deed. I told her ’twas not so, and bade her disabuse -her fancy of any such idea, informing her how he had died really of a -treacherous and secret pleurisy he had caught at the battle of Dreux, -where he had fought like a Cæsar all day long. But at evening, after -the last charge, being greatly heated by fight and a-sweat, and then -withdrawing on a night of the most bitter hard frost, he was chilled to -the bone. He did conceal his sickness, and died of it a month or six -weeks afterward. - -She did manifest, both by words and manner, her deep regret for him. -And note now, two or three years before this, he had despatched two -galleys on a freebooting expedition under the charge of Captain -Beaulieu, one of the Lieutenants of his galleys. He had adopted the -flag of the Queen of Scots, one which had never been seen or known -in the Eastern seas, and which did cause folk much amaze; for ’twas -out of the question to take that of France, because of the alliance -with the Turks. Now the Grand Prior had given orders to the said -Captain Beaulieu to land at Naples and pay a visit on his behalf to -the Marquise de Gouast and her daughters, to which three ladies he did -send by his hand an host of presents, all the little novelties then -in vogue at the Court and Palace, in Paris and in France generally. -Indeed this same noble Grand Prior was ever the soul of generosity -and magnificence. This task Captain Beaulieu did not fail to perform, -and did present all his master’s gifts; himself was most excellently -received, and rewarded by a fine present for his mission. - -The Marquise did feel such obligation for these gifts and for that he -had continued to remember her, that she did tell me again and again how -gratified she had been and how she had loved him yet more than afore -for his goodness. Again for love of him, she did a graceful courtesy -to a gentleman of Gascony, which was at that time an officer in the -galleys of the Grand Prior. This gentleman was left behind, when we set -sail, sick unto death. But so kind was fortune to him, that addressing -himself to the said lady in his adversity, he was so well succoured of -her that his life was saved. She did take him in her household, and did -serve him so well, as that a Captaincy falling vacant in one of her -Castles, she did bestow the same on him, and procured him to marry a -rich wife to boot. - -None of the rest of us were aware what had become of the poor -gentleman, and we deemed him dead. But lo! at the time of this latter -voyage to Malta, there was amongst us a gentleman, younger brother -of him I spake of, which did one day in heedless talk tell me of the -main occasion for his going abroad. This he said was to seek news of -a brother of his that had formerly been in the service of the Grand -Prior, and had tarried behind sick at Naples more than six years before -and had never been heard of since. Then did I bethink me, and presently -did make enquiry for news of him of the folk belonging to the Marquise. -These told me of his good fortune, and I did at once inform the younger -brother. The latter did thank me very heartily, and accompanied me to -pay his respects to the said lady, who did take him into great favour -also, and went to visit him at his lodging. - -Truly a pretty gratitude and remembrance of a friendship of old -days,—which remembrance she did still cherish, as I have said. For she -did make me even better cheer than before, and did entertain me with -tales of the old happy time and many other subjects,—all which did make -me to find her company very pleasant and agreeable. For she was of a -good intelligence and bright wit, and an excellent talker. - -She did beseech me an hundred times over to take no other lodging or -meal but with her; but to this I would never consent, it not being my -nature ever to be importunate or self-seeking. But I did use to go and -visit her every day for the seven or eight days we did tarry there, and -I was always most welcome, and her chamber ever open to me without any -difficulty. - -When at last I bade her adieu, she did give me letters of -recommendation to her son, the Marquis de Pescaïre, General at that -time in the Spanish army.[178*] Besides which, she did make me promise -that on my return I would come to see her, and take up my lodging in -no other house but hers. - -However so great was my ill luck that the galleys which did carry us -did land us only at Terracina, from whence we hied to Rome, and I was -unable to retrace my steps. Moreover I was fain at that time to join -the wars in Hungary; but being at Venice, we did learn the death of -the great Sultan Soliman.[179*] ’Twas there I did curse my luck an -hundred times over, for that I had not anyhow returned to Naples, where -I should have passed my time to advantage. Indeed it may well be, that -by favour of my lady the Marquise I should there have found some good -fortune, whether by marriage or otherwise. For she did certainly do me -the honour to like me well. - -I suppose my evil destiny willed it not so, but was determined to take -me back again to France to be for ever unfortunate there. In this hath -dame Fortune never showed me a favourable countenance, except only so -far as appearances go and a fair repute as a good and gallant man of -worth and honour. Yet goods and rank have I never gotten like sundry -of my comrades,—and even some of our lower estate, men I have known -which would have deemed themselves happy if I had but spoke to them in -a courtyard, or King’s or Queen’s apartment, or in hall, though only -aside and over the shoulder. Yet to-day I do see these same fellows -advanced and grown exceeding big with the rapidity of pumpkins,—though -indeed I do make but light of them and hold them no greater than myself -and would not defer to any of them by so much as the length of my nail. - -Well, well! I may herein apply to myself the word which our Redeemer -Jesus Christ did pronounce out of his own mouth, “a prophet hath no -honour in his own country.” Mayhap had I served foreign Princes as well -as I have done mine own, and sought adventure among them as I have -among those of our land, I should now be more laden with wealth and -dignities than I actually am with years and vexations. Patience! if -’tis my Fate hath spun it so, I do curse the jade; if ’tis my Princes -be to blame, I do give them to all the devils, an if they be not there -already! - -This doth end my account of this most honourable lady. She is dead, -with an excellent repute as having been a right fair noble dame and -having left behind her a good and generous line, as the Marquis eldest -son, Don Juan, Don Carlos, Don Cæsar d’Avalos, all which myself have -seen and have spoke of them elsewhere. The daughters no less have -followed in their brothers’ steps. And herewith I do terminate the main -thread of my principal Discourse. - - - - - NOTES AND APPENDICES - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - BIBLIOGRAPHY - -(This list is simply a selection from the many editions of the works -of Brantôme in French and German. There are also texts in Spanish and -Italian. A complete bibliography would fill many pages and would not be -essential to the present text.) - - - EDITIONS - -— Leyde, 1666, chez Sambix le jeune, 2 vol. in-12. Le titre portait. - “_Vies des dames galantes._” - -— Leyde, 1666, chez Jean de la Tourterelle, 2 vol. in-12. Le titre - portait. “_Mémoires de messire Pierre de Bourdeille, seigneur de - Brantôme, contenans les vies des dames galantes de son temps._” - -— Leyde, 1722, chez Jean de la Tourterelle, 2 vol. in-12. Titre rouge et - noir. Mème titre que dans l’édition précédente et mêmes fautes. - -— Londres, 1739, Wood et S. Palmer, 2 vol. in-12, titre rouge et noir. - “_Mémoires de messire Pierre de Bourdeille, seigneur de Brantôme, - contenant les vies des dames galantes de son temps._” Édition copiée - sur les précédentes. - -— La Haye, 1740, 15 vol. in-12. Cette édition est de Le Duchat, Lancelot - et Prosper Marchand, et les remarques critiques ont servi aux éditions - postérieures. - -— Londres, 1779, aux dépens du libraire, 15 vol. in-8^o. “_Œuvres du - seigneur de Brantôme, nouvelle édition considérablement augmentée, - accompagnée de remarques historiques et critiques et distribuée, dans - un meilleur ordre._” Les _Dames galantes_ occupent les tomes III et IV. - -— Paris, 1822, Foucault, 8 vol. in-8^o. “_Œuvres complétes du seigneur - de Brantôme, accompagnées de remarques historiques et critiques. - Nouvelle édition collationnée sur les manuscrits de la Bibliothèque du - Roi._” (Monmerqué). Les _Dames galantes_ occupent le VII^e vol. - -— Paris, 1834, Ledoux, 2 vol. in-8^o. “_Les Dames galantes, par le - seigneur de Brantôme, nouvelle édition avec une préface de M. Ph. - Chasles._” Édition qui a beaucop et mal profité de l’édition - précédente. - -— Paris, 1841–1869, Garnier frères, 1 vol. in-18. Édition populaire - plusieurs fois réimprimée et faite d’après l’édition de 1740. - -— Paris, 1857, A. Delahays, 1 vol. in-12. “_Œuvres de Brantôme, nouvelle - édition revue d’après les meilleurs textes, avec une préface historique - et critique par H. Vigneau. Vies des Dames galantes._” Édition faite - d’après les éditions antéricures. Les notes sont bonnes. - - Il a été fait une nouvelle édition de ce travail en 1857, chez - Delahays, en in-18. - -— Paris, 1876, Renouard, libraire de la Société de l’histoire de France. - “_Œuvres complètes de Pierre de Bourdeille, seigneur de Brantôme, - publiées d’après les manuscrits, avec variantes et fragments inédits, - pour la Société de l’histoire de France, par Ludovic Lalanne. Tome - neuvième. Des Dames_” (suite). Un gros vol. in-8 de 743 pages, titre - non compris. - - Cette édition est la première qui indique les sources auxquelles - Brantôme a puisé ses historiettes. M. Lalanne n’a laissé aucun passage - sans une explication toujours courte et toujours substantielle. - -— L’Œuvre du Seigneur de Brantôme. “_Vie des Dames galantes._” - Introduction and notes by B. de Villeneuve. Paris, 1913. - -— _Les Dames galantes._ Publiées d’apres les manuscrits de la - Bibliothèque Nationale, par Henri Bouchot. 2 vols. E. Flammarion. - Paris. (A very fine edition.) - -— Brantôme: _Das Leben der Galanten Damen._ (Dionysos-Bücherei). - Introduction by George Harsdörfer. 2 vols. Berlin. (The best German - edition.) - -— Brantôme: _Lives of Fair and Gallant Ladies._ Translated from the - original by A. R. Allinson. 2 vols. Paris. Carrington. 1902. - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - _APPENDIX—A_ - - BRANTÔME: By ARTHUR TILLEY - - -Like Montaigne, Brantôme pretended to be careless of literary fame, -but in reality took every pains to secure it; like Montaigne he -loved digressions, _gaillardes escapades_, from his main theme; like -Montaigne he has drawn for us, though in his case unconsciously, a -portrait of himself; like Montaigne he was curious of information, -fond of travel and books. But these points of similarity are after all -superficial; the difference is fundamental. While Montaigne tested the -world and society by the light of his shrewd common sense, Brantôme -accepted them without question or reflexion. Montaigne was essentially -a thinker, Brantôme was merely a reporter; Montaigne was a moralist, -for Brantôme the word morality had no meaning. Montaigne criticised -his age, Brantôme reflected it. That indeed is Brantôme’s chief value, -that he reflects his age like a mirror, but it must be added that he -reflects chiefly its more trivial, not to say its more scandalous side. -He is the Suetonius of the French Renaissance. - -Pierre de Bourdeille, “reverend father in God, abbé de Brantôme,” -belonged to a noble and ancient family of Perigord. The precise date -of his birth is uncertain, but it must be placed somewhere between -1539 and 1542. He spent his childhood with his grandmother, Louise de -Vivonne, wife of the seneschal of Poitou, at the court of Margaret -of Navarre, and after studying first at Paris and then at Poitiers, -travelled for more than a year in Italy, returning to France at the -beginning of 1560, when he made his first appearance at the court. -Though he already held other benefices besides the abbey from which -he took his title, he was not in orders. The next fourteen years were -spent by him either in fighting on the Catholic side in the religious -wars, or in attendance at the court, or in travel. In 1574 his military -career came to an end, for his duties as gentleman of the chamber, to -which post he had been appointed in 1568, kept him at court, frivolous, -idle, and discontented. At last the refusal of Henry III. to bestow on -him the promised post of governor of Perigord filled him with such fury -that he determined to enter the service of Spain. But a fall from his -horse, which kept him in bed for four years (1583–1587), saved him from -being a renegade to his country and turned him into a man of letters. - -For it was during this forced inactivity, apparently in 1584, that he -began his literary labours, which he continued for the next thirty -years, most of which he spent on his estate. He died in 1614, leaving -a will of portentous length, in which, among other things, he charged -his heirs to have his works printed _en belle et grand lettre et grand -volume_. The charge was neglected, and it was not till 1665–1666 that -an incomplete and defective edition was published at Leyden, in the -Elzevir form. Previous to this, however, several copies had been made -of his manuscripts, and Le Laboureur in his edition of Castelnau’s -Memoirs, published in 1659, had printed long extracts. - -Brantôme was a disappointed man when he wrote his memoirs. He had -been an assiduous courtier for a quarter of a century and had gained -nothing by it, while he had seen men whose merits he believed to be -inferior to his rise to wealth and honour. But though he had the love -of frivolity and the moral indifference of a true courtier, he had not -his pliability. “He was violent,” says Le Laboureur, “difficult to live -with and of a too unforgiving spirit.” Perhaps the best thing that can -be said in his favour is that among his most intimate friends were two -of the most virtuous characters of their time, Téligny, the son-in-law -of Coligny, and Téligny’s brother-in-law, François de la Noue. Among -his other friends were Louis de Bérenger, seigneur du Guast, who was -assassinated by order of Marguerite de Valois, and above all Filippo -Strozzi, the son of Piero Strozzi, who was his friend for over twenty -years, and who exercised over him considerable influence. - -The names by which Brantôme’s writings are generally known are not -those which he himself gave them. Thus the titles _Dames illustres_ -and _Dames galantes_ are an invention of the Leyden publisher for the -_Premier et Second livre des Dames_. The other main division of his -writings, _Hommes_, consisted in Brantôme’s manuscript of two volumes, -the first containing the _Grands capitaines_, French and Spanish, -and the second _Les couronnels, Discours sur les duels, Rodomontades -espagnoles_, and a separate account of La Noue. His original manuscript -was completed while Margaret was still the wife of Henry IV., that is -to say before November, 1599, but some time after her divorce he made -a carefully revised copy. It is upon this copy that the text of M. -Lalanne’s edition is based for the first five volumes. - -Regarded strictly as biographies Brantôme’s lives have slender merit, -for the majority give one little or no idea of the character of the -persons treated. He is at least successful with those who had in -them elements of real greatness, such as Coligny and Condé. Even the -long life of François de Guise, though it contains some interesting -and valuable information, throws little light on Guise himself. But -he gives us good superficial portraits of Charles IX., Catharine de -Medici, and the Constable de Montmorency, while several of the minor -lives, such as Brissac and his brother Cosse, Matignon, and Mary -of Hungary, are not only amusing but hit off the characters with -considerable success. One of the most entertaining is the unfinished -account of his father. On the other hand the account of Margaret of -Valois, though it contains some interesting details, is too ecstatic -in its open-mouthed admiration to have any value as a biography. The -conclusion of the account of Monluc may be quoted not only for its -reference to Monluc’s conversational powers, but as throwing light on -Brantôme’s own character. - -Much of the interest of Brantôme’s book is to be found in his numerous -digressions, for which he is constantly apologizing. Thus in the middle -of the account of Montmorency we have a laudatory sketch of Michel -de l’Hospital, in that of Tavannes a digression on the order of St. -Michael, in that of Bellegarde an account of his own treatment by Henry -III. The digressions are frequently made occasions for amusing stories, -which, like Montaigne’s, are distinguished from such as Bouchet and -Beroalde de Verville collected, in that they generally illustrate some -trait of human character. - -Like Montaigne again, Brantôme copies freely and without acknowledgment -from books. Whole pages are taken from _Le loyal serviteur_, stories -are borrowed from Rabelais, Des Periers, and the _Heptameron_, as -well as from most of the writers dealt with in the last chapter. But -Brantôme, unlike Montaigne, tries to conceal his thefts by judicious -alterations, or by pretending that he heard the story himself, or even -that he was a witness of the event related. _J’ai ouy conter_ and _J’ai -vu_ are frequently in his mouth. He was doubtless chiefly influenced in -these endeavours to conceal his borrowings by the same form of vanity -as Montaigne, the desire to be regarded, not as a man of letters, but -as a gentleman who amused himself by putting down his reminiscences -on paper. It is for this reason that he tries to give a negligent -and conversational air to his style. The result is that he is often -ungrammatical and sometimes obscure. Yet his style, at any rate in the -eyes of a foreigner, has considerable merit, and chiefly from its power -of vivid presentment. For Brantôme, like other Gascons, like Montaigne -and Monluc and Henry IV., saw things vividly and can make his readers -see them. He has a store of expressive words and phrases such as _un -peu hommasse_ (of Mary of Hungary). A noticeable feature of his style -is his love of Italian and Spanish words, reflecting in this, as in -other features, the prevailing fashion of the Court. - -Brantôme’s keen enjoyment of the world pageantry was seldom disturbed -by inconvenient reflexion. His only quarrel with society was that -the ruling powers were blind to his own merits. He thought the duel, -even in the treacherous and bloodthirsty fashion in which it was then -carried on, an excellent institution, and at the end of his account of -Coligny he inserts an elaborate disquisition on the material benefits -which the religious wars had conferred on France. All classes had -profited, nobles, clergy, magistrates, merchants, artisans. - -And all this is said in sober earnest, without a suspicion of irony. -One might at any rate give Brantôme credit for originality had he not -told us at the outset that this was the substance of a conversation -which he overheard at Court between two great persons, one a soldier -and the other a statesman, and both excellent Catholics. Brantôme was -the echo as well as the mirror of the Court. - -Brantôme’s glowing panegyric on Margaret of Valois induced that -virtuous princess to write her memoirs, partly in order to supplement -his account of her, partly to correct a few errors into which he had -fallen. It is to Brantôme accordingly that her memoirs are addressed. -They were written about the year 1597 in the château of Usson in -Auvergne, where she had resided, nominally as a prisoner, since 1587. - - [From _The Literature of the French Renaissance_, Vol. II. 1904.] - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - _APPENDIX—B_ - - BRANTÔME: By GEORGE SAINTSBURY - - -The complement and counterpart of this moralising[180] on human -business and pleasure is necessarily to be found in chronicles of -that business and that pleasure as actually pursued. In these the -sixteenth century is extraordinarily rich. Correspondence had hardly -yet attained the importance in French literature which it afterwards -acquired, but professed history and, still more, personal memoirs were -largely written. The name of Brantôme has been chosen as the central -and representative name of this section of writers, because he is on -the whole the most original and certainly the most famous of them. -His work, moreover, has more than one point of resemblance to that of -the great contemporary author (Montaigne) with whom he is linked at -the head of this chapter. Brantôme neither wrote actual history nor -directly personal memoirs, but desultory biographical essays, forming a -curious and perhaps designed pendant to the desultory moral essays of -his neighbour Montaigne. Around him rank many writers, some historians -pure and simple, some memoir-writers pure and simple, of whom not a few -approach him in literary genius, and surpass him in correctness and -finish of style, while almost all exceed him in whatever advantage may -be derived from uniformity of plan, and from regard to the decencies of -literature. - -Pierre de Bourdeille (s) (who derived the name by which he is, and -indeed was during his lifetime, generally known from an abbacy given -to him by Henri II. when he was still a boy) was born about 1540, in -the province of Perigord, but the exact date and place of his birth -have not been ascertained. He was the third son of François, Comte de -Bourdeilles, and his mother, Anne de Vivonne de la Chataigneraie, was -the sister of the famous duelist whose encounter with Jarnac his nephew -has described in a well-known passage. In the court of Marguerite -d’Angoulême, the literary nursery of so great a part of the talent -of France at this time, he passed his early youth, went to school at -Paris and at Poitiers, and was made Abbé de Brantôme at the age of -sixteen. He was thus sufficiently provided for, and he never took any -orders, but was a courtier and a soldier throughout the whole of his -active life. Indeed almost the first use he made of his benefice was -to equip himself and a respectable suite for a journey into Italy, -where he served under the Maréchal de Brissac. He accompanied Mary -Stuart to Scotland, served in the Spanish army in Africa, volunteered -for the relief of Malta from the Turks, and again for the expedition -destined to assist Hungary against Soliman, and in other ways led the -life of a knight-errant. The religious wars in his own country gave him -plenty of employment; but in the reigns of Charles IX. and Henri III. -he was more particularly attached to the suite of the queen dowager -and her daughter Marguerite. He was, however, somewhat disappointed in -his hopes of recompense; and after hesitating for a time between the -Royalists, the Leaguers, and the Spaniards, he left the court, retired -into private life, and began to write memoirs, partly in consequence of -a severe accident. He seems to have begun to write about 1594, and he -lived for twenty years longer, dying on the 15th of July, 1614. - -The form of Brantôme’s works is, as has been said, peculiar. They are -usually divided into two parts, dealing respectively with men and -women. The first part in its turn consists of many subdivisions, the -chief of which is made up of the _Vies des Grand Capitaines Étrangers -et Français_, while others consist of separate disquisitions or essays, -_Des Rodomontades Espagnoles_, “On some Duels and Challenges in -France” and elsewhere, “On certain Retreats, and how they are sometimes -better than Battles,” etc. Of the part which is devoted to women the -chief portion is the celebrated _Dames Galantes_, which is preceded -by a series of _Vies des Dames Illustres_, matching the _Grands -Capitaines_. _The Dames Galantes_ is subdivided into eight discourses, -with titles which smack of Montaigne. These discourses are, however, in -reality little but a congerie of anecdotes, often scandalous enough. -Besides these, his principal works, Brantôme left divers _Opuscula_, -some of which are definitely literary, dealing chiefly with Lucan. -None of his works were published in his lifetime, nor did any appear -in print until 1659. Meanwhile manuscript copies had, as usual, been -multiplied, with the result, also usual, that the text was much -falsified and mutilated. - -The great merit of Brantôme lies in the extraordinary vividness of his -powers of literary presentment. His style is careless, though it is -probable that the carelessness is not unstudied. But his irregular, -brightly coloured, and easily flowing manner represents, as hardly any -age has ever been represented, the characteristics of the great society -of his time. It is needless to say that the morals of that time were -utterly corrupt, but Brantôme accepts them with a placid complacency -which is almost innocent. No writer, perhaps, has ever put things -more disgraceful on paper; but no writer has ever written of such -things in such a perfectly natural manner. Brantôme was in his way a -hero-worshipper, though his heroes and heroines were sometimes oddly -coupled. Bayard and Marguerite de Valois represent his ideals, and a -good knight or a beautiful lady _de par le monde_ can do no wrong. This -unquestioning acceptance of, and belief in, the moral standards of his -own society give a genuineness and a freshness to his work which are -very rare in literature. Few writers, again, have had the knack of -hitting off character, superficially it is true, yet with sufficient -distinction, which Brantôme has. There is something individual about -all the innumerable characters who move across his stage, and something -thoroughly human about all, even the anonymous men and women, who -appear for a moment as the actors in some too frequently discreditable -scene. With all this there is a considerable vein of moralising in -Brantôme which serves to throw up the relief of his actual narratives. -He has sometimes been compared to Pepys, but, except in point of -garrulity and of readiness to set down on paper anything that came into -their heads, there is little likeness between the two. Brantôme was -emphatically an _écrivain_ (unscholarly and Italianised as his phrase -sometimes appears, if judged by the standards of a severer age), and -some of the best passages from his works are among the most striking -examples of French prose. - - [From _A Short History of French Literature_. 6th Ed. Oxford, 1901.] - - - - - [Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start] - - - - - NOTES TO VOLUME I - - HISTORICAL NOTE - - -[1] P. VII: - - ◆The Duc d’Alençon was later called the Duc d’Anjou. He died at - Château-Thierry, on Sunday, June 10, 1584, from dysentery, which - had almost reduced him to a shadow. Nevers, in his _Mémoires_ (Vol. - I, p. 91), maintains that he was poisoned by a maid of one of his - mistresses. According to L’Estoile’s account, the Duke was given - a magnificent funeral in Paris. He was by no means handsome; his - pimpled and deformed nose earned for him an epigram during his - expedition in Flanders: - - Flamands, ne soyez estonnez - Si à François voyez deux nez: - Car par droit, raison et usage, - Faut deux nez à double visage. - -[2] P. VIII: - - ◆Pierre de Bourdeille, Seigneur de l’Abbaye de Brantôme. Was born - in Périgord, 1527; died 1614. Of an old and distinguished family. - Served his apprenticeship to war under the famous Captain François - de Guise. Later Gentleman of the Chamber to two French Kings in - succession, Charles IX. and Henri III., being high in favour - with the latter; Chamberlain to the Duc d’Alençon. As soldier or - traveller visited most parts of Europe; intimate with many of the - most famous men of his day, including the poet Ronsard. Some time - after the death of Charles IX. he retired (disappointed apparently - by a diminution of Court favour, and suffering from the results of - a serious accident due to a fall from his horse) to his estates - in Guyenne, where he employed his leisure in the composition of a - number of voluminous works based on reminiscences of the active - period of his life. - - These are: - _Vies des Hommes illustres et grands Capitaines français_, - _Vies des Grands Capitaines étrangers_, - _Vies des Dames illustres_, - _Vies des Dames galantes_, - _Anecdotes touchant des Duels_, - _Rodomontades et Jurements espagnols_, - and sundry fragments. - -[3] P. XXVI: - - Souvent femme varie, - Bien fol qui s’y fie! - - (Woman is changing ever; fool the man who trusts her!) - -[4] P. 3: - - ◆The word which Molière popularized does not date from that time; - it was used much earlier, and in the thirteenth century we see a - man pay a fine of twenty ounces of gold for calling an unfortunate - husband _coucou_ (cuckold). (_Usatica regni Majorici_, _Anno_ - 1248.) About the middle of the fifteenth century, in a letter - of remission to a guilty fellow, we find this curious remark: - “_Cogul_, which is the same (in the vernacular) as _coulz_ or - _couppault_, is one of the vilest insults to be thrust at a married - man.” At times the word _coux_ was used: - - Suis-je mis en la confrairie - Saint Arnoul le seignenur des Coux. - - But it was just about the fifteenth century that the confusion - appeared between this word and the bird of April (cuckoo); the word - _coucou_ (cuckoo), which had been explained by a fable, merely - imitated the cry, whereas the word _cocu_ (cuckold) had been - derived from the early Low Latin _cugus_. “Couquou, thus named - after its manner of singing and because it is famed for laying its - eggs in the nests of other birds; so, inconsistently, he is called - a _cocu_ (cuckold) in whose nest another man comes.” (Bouchet, - _Serées_.) There is also a play by Passerat on the metamorphosis of - a cuckoo which is worth mentioning. (Bib. Nat., manuscrit français, - 22565, f^o 24 v^o.) - -[5] P. 4: - - ◆In the present work the Author constantly uses the words _belle et - honneste_ (fair and honourable) to describe such and such a lady, - of whom at the same time he speaks as being an unmitigated whore. - But when he adds, as he does sometimes, _vertueuse_ (virtuous) to - _belle et honneste_, he implies by this that the lady was chaste - and modest, and raised no talk about herself. - -[6] P. 7: - - ◆The prothonotary Baraud was one of those churchmen of whom Brantôme - says elsewhere: “It was customary at the time that prothonotaries, - even those of good families, should scarcely be learned, but give - themselves up to pleasure,” etc. - -[7] P. 10: - - ◆Cosimo de Medici, who had his wife Eleonora de Toledo poisoned. The - daughter of whom Brantôme speaks was Isabella, whom he married to - Paolo Orsini, the Duke of Bracciano. But Cosimo had too marked an - affection for this daughter; although she was married, he insisted - that she live in Florence and remain with him. Vasari, who painted - for the Medici one of the arches of the Palazzo Vecchio, one day - surprised the father and the daughter, and recounts the strange - adventure which he witnessed. After the death of Cosimo, Paolo - Orsini called Isabella to his apartment, and there, according to - Litta, “with a rope around her neck coldly strangled her on the - night of July 16, 1576, in the act of consummating the marriage.” - (Medici, t, IV, tavola xiv.) That unhappy woman was one of the most - marvellous of her time: beautiful, cultured, musical, she had all - the brilliant advantages of the mind and of the body. Meanwhile, - she had had as a lover Troilo Orsini, who was attached to her - husband as a bodyguard, and who was assassinated in France, where - he had retired. - - ◆Louis de Clermont de Bussy d’Amboise was born towards the middle - of the XVIth Century, and took an active part in the Massacre of - Saint Bartholomew. On that occasion, profiting by the confusion, - he murdered his kinsman Antoine de Clermont, with whom he was at - law for the possession of the Marquisat de Renel. Having obtained - from his patron the Duc d’Anjou the governorship of the Castle of - Angers, he made himself the terror of the countryside. Letters of - his addressed to the wife of the Comte de Montsoreau, whom he was - endeavouring to seduce, having fallen into Charles IX.’s hands, - were by him shown to the husband. The latter forced his wife - to write a reply to her lover appointing a rendez-vous. On his - appearing there, Montsoreau and a band of armed men fell upon and - despatched him (1579). The comment of the historian de Thou is in - these words: “The entire Province was overjoyed at Bussy’s death, - while the Duke of Anjou himself was not sorry to be rid of him.” - [Transl.] - -[8] P. 11: - - ◆René de Villequier, Baron de Clairvaux, murdered his first wife, - Françoise de la Marck, in cold blood, in 1577 at the Castle of - Poitiers, where the Court was residing. He killed at the same time - a young girl who was holding a mirror before her mistress at the - moment. According to some authorities he acted on the suggestion of - the king, Henri III. At any rate he got off with absolute impunity, - and within a very short time after was decorated by his Sovereign - with the Order of the St. Esprit. [Transl.] - -[9] P. 12: - - ◆Sampietro, the famous soldier of fortune, and commander of the - Italian troops under the French Kings Francis I. and Henri II., - was born near Ajaccio in Corsica in 1501. He was of humble birth, - but his many brilliant feats of war made him celebrated throughout - Europe. He actually strangled his wife,—Vanina, a lady of good - family, but not in consequence of such misconduct on her part - as Brantôme represents. The real circumstances were as follows. - Sampietro having attempted to raise his Corsican compatriots in - revolt against the Genoese, he was imprisoned and all but put to - death by the latter. This roused in him so implacable a hatred - of the Genoese State, that on learning that his wife during his - absence at Constantinople had condescended to implore his pardon - from the Genoese, he deliberately put her to death in the way - described. He was himself eventually murdered, being treacherously - stabbed in the back by his Lieutenant and friend Vitelli at the - instigation of his Genoese enemies. [Transl.] - - ◆This is another allusion to Paolo Orsini, Duke of Bracciano, who - could not overtake Troilo Orsini, and killed Isabella that he might - marry Vittoria Accoramboni, whose husband he had assassinated. - (Litta, Orsini, t, VII, tav. XXIX.) - -[10] P. 15: - - ◆The Avalos family originally came from Spain, and gave Italy the - Marquis de Pescaire, one of the greatest captains of the sixteenth - century. It is of him that Brantôme speaks as the _viceroy_. Maria - d’Avalos was married to Carlos Gesualdo, prince of Venousse, and - was the niece of this Marquis de Pescaire and of Del Guasto, whom - Brantôme describes as “dameret” (foppish) to such a degree that he - perfumed the saddles of his horses. He was the one who lost the - battle of Cérisoles in 1544. - -[11] P. 16: - - ◆Iliad, Bk. III,— - - ◆Paul de Caussade de Saint-Mégrin, favorite of the king, was killed - on leaving the Louvre by a band of assassins led by Mayenne. He was - the lover of Catherine de Clèves, Duchess de Guise. Henri IV., then - king of Navarre, who had good reasons not to like favorites, says - apropos of this: “I am thankful to the Duc de Guise for refusing - to tolerate that a bed favorite like Saint-Mégrin should make him - a cuckold. This treatment ought to be meted out to all the little - court gallants who try to approach the princesses with the aim of - making love to them.” - - ◆Françoise de Saillon, married to Jacques de Rohan. She was saved by - a miracle, says Jean Bourdigné’s chronicle, in 1526. - -[12] P. 17: - - ◆Brantôme refers to Françoise de Foix, Chateaubriant’s lady, - regarding whom an old pamphlet of 1606 says as follows: “She could - do what she desired, and she desired many things that she ought not - to at all. During her lifetime, her husband was ever afflicted and - tormented.” (Factum pour M. le connestable contre Madame de Guise, - 1606.) That is also the opinion of Gaillard in his _Histoire de - Françoise I^{er}_, t. VII, p. 179, in the 1769 edition, who sees in - this passage an allusion to Mme. de Chateaubriant. - - ◆Jean de Bourdigné, author of _Histoire agrégative des Annales et - Chroniques d’Anjou et du Maine_ (Angers, 1529, fol.), was born at - Angers. He was a priest and Canon of the Cathedral of his native - town. The book is very rare; as a history it is almost worthless, - being full of the wildest fables. - - ◆Francis I. king of France, 1515–1547. - -[13] P. 21: - - ◆Philip II. had his wife Isabelle de Valois poisoned; he suspected - her of adultery with Don Carlos, his son of a former marriage. - -[14] P. 22: - - ◆Louis X., surnamed le Hutin, had caused his wife Marguerite de - Bourgogne to be strangled at the Château-Gaillard. She had been - imprisoned there in 1314. As to Gaston II., of Foix, outraged by - the life of debauch Jeanne d’Artois (his mother) led, he obtained - from Philippe de Valois an order of internment in 1331. - - ◆Anne Boleyn, who was the cause of the Anglican schism. The king - had had her beheaded because of her infidelity and married Jane - Seymour. As to the charge of which Brantôme speaks, Henry VIII. was - so keen on that matter that he had caused Catherine Howard to be - beheaded because he had not been quite convinced of her virginity. - -[15] P. 23: - - ◆Baldwyn II., cousin and successor of the first Baldwyn, king of - Jerusalem, brother of Godfrey de Bouillon, reigned from 1119 to - 1131. Brantôme is mistaken here. Baldwyn II. had married Morphie, - daughter of Prince de Mélitine; but he had not been formerly - married. Does he wish to speak of Baudoin I^{er}, who repudiated - the daughter of the Prince d’Arménie and then Adéle de Monferrat? - (Cf. Guillaume de Tyr, liv. II, c. xv.) - - ◆Read _Melitene_; this is how the Ancients named this town, the - modern name of which is _Meletin_, in Latin _Malatia_; in Armenia, - on the Euphrates. - - ◆_History of the Holy Land_; by William of Tyre. - - ◆Louis VII. succeeded his father, Louis le Gros, on the throne of - France 1137, and died 1180. His wife, whom he divorced soon after - his return from the Holy Land, whither she had accompanied him, - was Eleanore of Guienne. This divorce was very painful to Louis - VII., surnamed le Jeune, because he had to give up the duchy of - Aquitaine and cast off the beautiful equestrian seal which he had - had engraved for himself in his rank as duke. - -[16] P. 24: - - ◆Suetonius, _Cæsar_, Chap. VI. Brantôme is thinking of Clodius; but - Cicero never made the speech in question. - - ◆Brantôme (Lalanne edition, t. VIII, p. 198) repeats this anecdote - without giving further details. - -[17] P. 25: - - ◆Fulvia. (Sallust, Chap. XXIII.) - - ◆Octavius (Augustus), first Roman Emperor, was the son of C. - Octavius, by Atia, a daughter of Julia, the sister of Julius Cæsar. - He was therefore the grand-nephew of the latter, the founder of the - Empire and virtual, though not nominal, first Emperor. He married - Livia after his divorce of Scribonia. - -[18] P. 26: - - ◆Caligula, the third Roman Emperor, A. D. 37–41. His name was Caius - Cæsar, Caligula being properly only a friendly nickname, “Little - Boots,” bestowed on him as a boy by the soldiers in his father, - Germanicus’ camp in Germany, where he was brought up. He was - inordinately cruel and licentious and madly extravagant. Eventually - murdered. - - ◆Brantôme does not appear to know very well the persons he is - speaking of here: Hostilla is Orestilla; Tullia is Lollia; - Herculalina is Urgulanilla. - -[19] P. 27: - - ◆Claudius, the fourth Roman Emperor, A. D. 41–54. The notorious - Messalina was his third wife. For a lurid picture of her - immoralities see Juvenal’s famous Sixth Satire. - -[20] P. 28: - - ◆Giovanni Boccaccio, the author of the Decameron, was born at - Paris in 1313, being the (illegitimate) son of a wealthy merchant - of Florence. He died 1375 at Certaldo, a village near Florence, the - original seat of the family. - - ◆Does the following _chanson_ refer to the same woman? - - On void Simonne - Proumener aux bordeaux - Matin, soir, nonne, - Avec ses macquereaux. - - (Bib. Nat., ms. français 22565, f^o 41 v^o.) - -[21] P. 29: - - ◆This is indeed one of the most curious passages of the book, - and I am glad to remove one of Lalanne’s doubts. Brantôme is - really talking of a statue, an antique piece which was found July - 21, 1594, in a field near the Saint-Martin priory. It had been - admirably conserved. Unfortunately, Louis XIV. having claimed it - later, it was placed on a barge which sank in the Garonne, and was - never recovered. (O’Reilly, History of Bordeaux, 1863, Vol. II.) - The statue is described as having had one breast uncovered and - curled hair, a description that agrees only partly with Visconti’s - type (_Iconographie romaine_, t. II., planche 28), in which - Messalina is not décolleté and carries her son. Was the Bordeaux - statue indeed a Messalina? - -[22] P. 31: - - ◆Brantôme is mistaken; Nero caused Octavia to be killed. (See - Suetonius, _Nero_, Chap. XXXV.) - - ◆Nero, fifth Roman Emperor, A. D. 54–63. - - ◆Domitian succeeded his father Titus on the Imperial throne; reigned - from A. D. 81 to 96. - - ◆Pertinax, a man of peasant birth, but who had carved out for - himself a distinguished career as soldier and administrator, was - elected Emperor by the Prætorian Guards on the murder of Commodus, - A. D. 193. Himself murdered after a two months’ reign. - -[23] P. 32: - - ◆Septimius Severus, Emperor from A. D. 193 to 211. He was a great - general and conducted successful campaigns in Britain, where he - died,—at York. - -[24] P. 33: - - ◆Philippe Auguste, King of France 1180–1223. Philip Augustus - repudiated Ingeburga after twenty-eight days of marriage, and - married Agnes de Méranie. The censure of the church induced the - king to discard the second marriage and return to Ingeburga (1201). - The latter was reputed to have a secret vice which greatly angered - the king. - -[25] P. 34: - - ◆Marguerite, daughter of the Archduke Maximilian, whom Charles VIII. - rejected in order to marry Anne of Brittany (1491). Louis XII. - turned away Jeanne in order to marry the widow of Charles VIII. - - ◆Charles VIII., 1483–1498, of the House of Valois. - - ◆Louis XII., successor of the last named, reigned 1498–1515, the - immediate predecessor of Francis I. - -[26] P. 35: - - ◆Alfonso V., king of Aragon, who left maxims which were collected by - Antonio Beccadelli, surnamed Panormita. - - ◆Twenty-second tale. M. de Bernage was equerry of King Charles VIII. - and the lord of Civray, near Chenonceaux. - -[27] P. 36: - - ◆It is not Semiramis, but Thomyris, who, according to Justin (Bk. - I.) and Herodotus (Bk. II.), thrust the head of Cyrus into a vat of - blood. Xenophon says, on the contrary, that Cyrus died a natural - death. - -[28] P. 40: - - ◆Albert de Gondy, Duke de Retz, was reputed as a practitioner of - Aretino’s principles. His wife, Claudine Catherine de Clermont, - deserved, perhaps wrongfully, to occupy a place in the pamphlet - entitled: “Bibliothèque de Mme. de Montpensier.” - -[29] P. 41: - - ◆Elephantis is referred to by Martial and Suetonius as the writer of - amatory works—“molles Elephantidos libelli,” but nothing is known - of her otherwise. She was probably a Greek, not a Roman. - - ◆Heliogabalus, or Elagabalus, Emperor from A. D. 218 to 222. Born at - Emesa, and originally high-priest of Elagabalus the Syrian Sun-god. - After a very short reign marked by every sort of extravagant folly, - he was succeeded by Alexander Severus. - - ◆The Cardinal de Lorraine, Cardinal du Perron, and others, had been - already represented in the same way along with Catherine de Medici, - Mary Stuart and the Duchesse de Guise, in two paintings mentioned - in the _Légende du Cardinal de Lorraine_, fol. 24, and in the - _Réveille-Matin des Français_, pp. 11 and 123. - -[30] P. 42: - - ◆I agree with Lalanne that this prince was no other than the Duke - d’Alençon. As to the fable of the coupling of the lions, it came - from an error of Aristotle, which was repeated by most naturalists - until the eighteenth century. - -[31] P. 45: - - ◆Ronsard the poet was born 1524, being the son of Louis de Ronsard, - sieur de la Poissonnière, an officer in the household of King - Francis I., and died 1586. He enjoyed an immense reputation in - his lifetime, and was the favourite poet of Mary Queen of Scots. - Her lover, the unfortunate Chastelard, read his _Hymne de la - mort_ on the scaffold, and refused any other book or confessor to - prepare him for death. Originator and leading member of the famous - _Pleïade_ of Poets. - -[32] P. 46: - - ◆He was a Florentine, Luigi di Ghiaceti, who had grown rich by - negotiating the taxes with the king. He married the beautiful - Mlle. d’Atri, and to please her he had bought for 400,000 francs - the estate of Chateauvilain. Mme. de Chateauvilain was a model - of virtue, if Brantôme is to be believed; but we wonder, fully - agreeing with the author of the notes to the _Journal de Henri - III._, where this lady could have acquired her virtue—was it at the - court or at her husband’s estate? Besides this gallery of pictures - which is mentioned here, Louis Adjecet (the French form for Luigi - Ghiaceti) had mistresses with whom he indulged in the low appetites - of rich upstarts. He was killed in 1593 by an officer; and his wife - withdrew to Langres, where she lived with her children. - -[33] P. 47: - - ◆Ariosto, _Orlando furioso_, canto XLII., stanza 98. - - Ecco un donzello a chi l’ufficio tocca - Por su la mensa un bel nappo d’or fino.... - - ◆Very likely Bernardin Turissan. Brantôme is perhaps referring to - the _Ragionamento della Nanna_, printed in Paris in 1534, without - the name of the publisher. The _peggio_ must have been one of those - infamous Italian books which the noblemen of the court wrangled - over. The _Nanna_ was well known at the French court (see _Le - Divorce satyrique_, t. I. of the _Journal de Henri III._, 1720 - edition, p. 190). - - ◆Bernardino Turisan, who used as his sign the well-known mark of the - Manutii, his kinsmen. - - ◆Pietro Aretino was born at Arezzo in Tuscany in 1492. The natural - son of a plain gentleman he became the companion and protégé of - Princes, and their unscrupulous and adroit flatterer. Friend of - Michael Angelo and Titian. His works are full of learning and - wit,—and obscenity. - -[34] P. 48: - - ◆This book, entitled _La Somme des péchés et les remèdes d’iceux_ - (Compendium of all Sins, and the Remedies of the same), printed at - Lyons, by Charles Pesnot c. 1584, 4to, and several times since, was - compiled by Jean Benedict, a Cordelier monk of Brittany. He has - filled it with filth and foulness as full as did the Jesuit Sanchez - his treatise _De Matrimonio_ (on Marriage). It is a singular fact - that a work so indecent should have been none the less dedicated to - the Holy Virgin. As we see from the text, Brantôme and his fellows - quite well understood how to turn such works to their advantage and - find fresh stories of lubricity in their pages. - -[35] P. 49: - - ◆This Bonvisi, a Lyons banker, had had as receiver Field Marshal - de Retz, the son of a Gondi, who had become a bankrupt in Lyons. - (Notes of the Confession de Sancy, 1720 edition, t. II., p. 244.) - -[36] P. 51: - - ◆L. Aurelius Commodus (not Sejanus), Emperor A. D. 180–192, was the - son of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius and Faustina. Annius Verus was - his brother, and received the appellation of _Cæsar_ along with his - elder brother in 166. - -[37] P. 58: - - ◆_Antonomasia_, properly. - -[38] P. 60: - - ◆The Sanzays were a family of Poitou who had settled in Brittany. - René de Sanzay, head of the family at the time in question, had - four sons: René, Christophe, Claude, and Charles. René continued - the line. Claude was his lieutenant in 1569, as colonel of his - forces. Charles married and died only in 1646 (?). Christophe, the - second son, was a prothonotary. It seems that Brantôme had Claude - in mind. Moreover, the constable of Montmorency having died in - 1568 and Claude having been a lieutenant of his brother in 1569, - we may conjecture that the adventure of which Brantôme speaks had - happened to him previously, for the constable is concerned with his - ransom. (Bib. Nat., Cabinet des titres, art. Sanzay.) - -[39] P. 61: - - ◆Cicero, _De officis_, Bk. IV., Chap. ix. - - ◆The second son of Charles V.; he was assassinated at the Gate of - Barbette, at the end of Rue Vieille-du-Temple, in 1407, by the - orders of Jean Sans peur. He had had for a long time adulterous - relations with his sister-in-law Isabeau de Bavière. The woman - in question here was Marie d’Enghien, wife of Aubert de Cany and - mother of the Bâtard d’Orléans. This anecdote has inspired several - story-tellers, such as Bandello, Strappardo, Malespini, etc. See - also the first of the _Cents Nouvelles nouvelles_. - - ◆“Candaules was the last Heracleid king of Lydia. According to the - account of Herodotus, he was extremely proud of his wife’s beauty, - and insisted on exhibiting her unveiled charms, but without her - knowledge, to Gyges, his favourite officer. Gyges was seen by the - queen, as he was stealing from her chamber, and the next day she - summoned him before her, intent on vengeance, and bade him choose - whether he would undergo the punishment of death himself, or would - consent to murder Candaules and receive the kingdom together with - her hand. He chose the latter alternative, and became the founder - of the dynasty of the Mermnadæ, about B. C. 715.” - -[40] P. 62: - - ◆Jean Dunois, comte d’Orléans et de Longueville, Grand Chamberlain - of France, was his natural son by Mariette d’Enghien, wife - of Aubert de Cany-Dunois, and is famous in history under the - name of the Bastard of Orleans. Born at Paris 1402; died 1468. - Distinguished himself at the sieges of Montargis and Orleans (where - he was seconded by Jeanne d’Arc) and in many other encounters. The - gallant champion of Charles VII. and the great enemy of the English. - -[41] P. 65: - - ◆Henri III., 1574–1589, last king of the House of Valois; succeeded - Charles IX. - - ◆Emmanuel Philibert, Duke of Savoy, surnamed _Tête de fer_. He had - married Marguerite, sister of Henri II. It was during this journey - that the Duchess Marguerite tried to obtain from her nephew Henri - III. the retrocession of several fortresses which France still - held. (Litta, t. VI., tav. xiv.) - -[42] P. 66: - - ◆Sainte-Soline abandoned Strozzi at the battle of the Iles Ter - Tercères. - -[43] P. 67: - - ◆Capaneus was one of the mythical seven heroes who marched from - Argos against Thebes (Aeschylus, _Septem contra Thebas_). “During - the siege, he was presumptuous enough to say, that even the fire - of Zeus should not prevent his scaling the walls of the city; but - when she saw his body was burning, his wife Euadné leaped into the - flames and destroyed herself.” - - ◆Alcestis was a daughter of Pelias, and the wife of Admetus, King of - Pheræ in Thessaly. According to the legend, Apollo having induced - the Fates to promise Admetus deliverance from death, if at the - hour of his decease his father, mother or wife would die for him, - Alcestis sacrificed herself for her husband’s sake. But Heracles - brought her back again from the underworld, and “all ended well.” - The story is the subject of Euripides’ beautiful play of _Alcestis_. - -[44] P. 68: - - ◆Tancred, one of the chief heroes of the First Crusade, was the son - of Odo the Good, of Sicily. Date of his birth is uncertain; he died - 1112. Type of the gallant soldier and adventurer and the “very - perfect, gentle knight.” - - ◆Philippe I.—1060–1108. - - ◆See Guillaume de Tyr, liv. XI., who tells this anecdote about - Tancrède. Bertrade d’Anjou, the wife of Foulques, had been carried - off by Philip I., to whom she bore, among other children, Cécile, - who married Tancrède. - - ◆Compare this Albanian savagery with the story of Councillor Jean - Lavoix, who lived with the wife of an attorney named Boulanger. The - wife having decided to discontinue that liaison, the Councillor - grew so furious that he caused her to be slashed and disfigured, - although he could not get her nose cut off. He was pardoned after - having paid his judges. The following song was written about him: - - Chasteauvillain, Poisle et Levois, - Seront jugez tous d’une voix - Par un arrest aussi leger - Que fust celluy de Saint-Leger. - Car le malheur est tel en France - Que tout se juge par la finance. - - (Bib. Nat., ms. français, 22563, f^o 101.) - -[45] P. 70: - - ◆See the _Annales d’Aquitaine_, f^o 140 v^o.—Jeanne de Montal, - married to Charles d’Aubusson, lord of La Borne. This Charles had - had a liaison with the prioress of Blessac, who bore him four - children. He was tried for theft and robbery in the convents of his - vicinity, and hanged, February 23, 1533. (Anselme, t. V., p. 835.) - A genealogy by Pierre Robert states precisely what Brantôme records - here. - - ◆See Brantôme in the Lalanne edition, t. VIII., p. 148. There - must be some mistake here. Jacques d’Aragon, the titular king of - Majorca, died in an expedition in 1375, according to the _Art de - verifier les dates_. - - ◆Charles VII. (surnamed the Victorious), crowned at Poitiers 1422, - consecrated at Rheims 1429; died 1461, the King for whom Jeanne - d’Arc fought against the Burgundians and English, and who really - owed his crown to her. - - ◆Francis I., 1515–1547. - - ◆Jeanne I., Queen of Naples, 1353–1381, daughter of Charles Duke of - Calabria and grand-daughter of the wise King Robert of Naples. - -[46] P. 72: - - ◆The proverb says, the ferret. It should be the ermine, which animal - is said to allow itself to be caught rather than soil itself. - - ◆The opinion that the female ferret would die if it did not find - a male to satisfy her during the mating season was still held by - naturalists at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Lalanne - is mistaken about the ermine, which, on the contrary, dies of the - slightest contamination: - - Et moi, je suis si délicate - Qu’une tache me fait mourir. - - (Florian, _Fables_, liv. III., fab. xiii.) - -[47] P. 78: - - ◆Nouvelle III. - - ◆Unhappy husbands were classified as follows: - - Celluy qui, marié, par sa femme est coqu - Et (qui) pas ne le sçait, d’une corne est cornu. - Deux en a cestui-là qui peut dissimuler; - Qui le voit et le souffre, celluy trois en porte; - Et quatre cestui-là qui meine pour culler - Chez lui des poursuivans. Cil qui en toute sorte - Dit qu’il n’est de ceux-là, et en sa femme croid, - Cinq cornes pour certain sur le front on lui void. - - (Bib. Nat., ms. français 22565, f^o 41.) - -[48] P. 79: - - ◆It was the marriage of Marguerite of France, the Duchess de Savoie, - to Emmanuel Philibert, the Duke de Savoie, which caused the army to - grumble. - - ◆Boccaccio, Seventh tale of the second day. - - ◆Brantôme alludes here most likely to Marguerite of France, sister - of Henri II., who was 45 when she married the Duke of Savoy. - -[49] P. 80: - - ◆Mlle. de Limeuil was the mistress of the Prince de Condé. During - the journey of the court at Lyons, in July, 1564, she was confined - in the cabinet of the queen mother, who was so furious that she - had her locked up in a Franciscan monastery at Auxonne. But the - _Confession de Sancy_ and several authors of that time differ from - Brantôme in saying that the child was a son and not a daughter, - and died immediately after birth. The Huguenots wrote verses about - the adventure; but the young lady nevertheless married an Italian, - Scipion Sardini, for whom she soon forgot the Prince de Condé. - Mlle. de Limeuil called herself Isabelle de La Tour de Turenne, and - was Dame de Limeuil. - -[50] P. 81: - - ◆Cosimo I., Duke of Tuscany. Besides, Pope Alexander VI. was also in - a somewhat similar situation. - -[51] P. 82: - - ◆Ferdinand II., King of Naples, 1495–96. Died prematurely at the age - of 26. Ferdinand II. married the sister of his father, the daughter - of the king of Naples and not of Castile. - -[52] P. 86: - - ◆An ancient city of Italy. At the fort of Monte Cimino, in the - Campagna 40 miles NNW. of Rome. - - ◆_La Nanna_ by Aretino, in the chapter on married women, tells - of similar practices of deception regarding the virtue of newly - married women. - -[53] P. 89: - - ◆Henry IV. of Castile, 1454–1474, a feeble and dissipated Prince, - was a brother of Isabelle of Castile. The young man chosen was not - a nobleman, but simply an Antinous of negligible origin whom the - king created Duke d’Albuquerque. A child, Jeanne, was born of this - complacent match, but she did not reign. Castile preferred Henri - III.’s sister, Isabelle. - - ◆Fulgosius (Battista Fregose), born at Genoa 1440, of a family - famous in Genoese history, and for a time Doge of his native - City. His chief Work, _Factorum et Dictorum Memorabilium libri - IX_. (Memorable Deeds and Words, 9 bks.), has been more than once - reprinted. This particular statement is to be found in ch. 3. of - Bk. IX. - -[54] P. 91: - - ◆We have here, perhaps, a discreet allusion to Henri IV.’s passion - for Mlle. de Tignonville, who had been unmanageable until she - married. (See the _Confession de Sancy_, and t. II., p. 128, of the - _Journal de Henri III._) - -[55] P. 94: - - ◆François de Lorraine, Duc de Guise, who was killed by Poltrot. - -[56] P. 96: - - ◆The famous Diane de Poitiers, eldest daughter of Jean de Poitiers, - Seigneur de St. Vallier, belonging to one of the most ancient - families in Dauphiné, was born 1499. At the age of 13 she was - married to Louis de Brèze, Comte de Maulevrier, Grand Seneschal - of Normandy. She became a widow in 1531. The story of François I. - having pardoned her father at the price of her honour, as told by - Brantôme and others, is apparently apocryphal. It was not till - after the death of her husband, to whom she was faithful and whose - name she honoured, that she became the mistress of François I. She - was as renowned for her wit and charms of mind as for her beauty. - Died 1566. - - ◆M. de Saint-Vallier, father of Diane de Poitiers. It is not known - whether he uttered the word, but his pardon came in time. The - headsman had already begged his pardon, according to custom, for - killing him, and was about to cut his head off when a clerk, - Mathieu Delot, rose and read the royal letter which commuted the - capital sentence to imprisonment. The letter is dated February 17, - 1523. (Ms. Saint-Germain, 1556, f^o 74.) - -[57] P. 97: - - ◆Duke d’Etampes, chevalier of the order and governor of Brittany, - an obliging and kind husband.—François de Vivonne, lord of La - Chasteigneraie, was among the least meek-minded of the court. - Princess de La Roche-sur-Yon having stupidly asked him one day for - a domestic favor, he called her “a little muddy princess,” which - afforded King Francis I. no little laughter. He was killed by - Jarnac in a famous duel. - -[58] P. 98: - - ◆An allusion to the demon who threw to the ground the archangel - Saint Michael, and who was represented on the collar of the order. - It is rather difficult to know of which lady Brantôme is speaking - here: the collar of Saint Michael had been given to so many people - that it was called “the collar for all animals.” (Castelnau, - _Mémoires_, I., p. 363.) - -[59] P. 99: - - ◆Where did Brantôme get this story? Gui de Châtillon had expended - on banquets the greater part of his fortune and sold his county to - Louis d’Orléans; the latter was merely seventeen at the time. It is - difficult to admit that he could have carried on a liaison with a - woman so ripe in years. After the death of Gui, Marguerite married - an officer of the Duke d’Orléans. - -[60] P. 101: - - ◆Apparently Queen Marguerite de Valois. Marguerite de Valois, - sister of François I., was born at Angouleme in 1492. Married in - 1509 to Charles 4th Duc d’Alençon, who died (1525) soon after - the disastrous battle of Pavia, at which François I. was taken - prisoner. In 1527 she married Henri d’Albret, king of Navarre. - She was a Princess of many talents and accomplishments, and the - delight of her brother François I., who called her his _Mignonne_, - and his _Marguerite des Marguerites_; Du Bellay and Clément Marot - were both members of her literary coterie. Authoress of the famous - _Heptameron_, or _Nouvelles de la Reine de Navarre_, composed in - imitation of Boccaccio’s _Decameron_. Died 1549. - - ◆This is also an allusion to Queen Marguerite. Martigues, one of her - lovers, had received from her a scarf and a little dog which he - wore at the tournaments. - -[61] P. 103: - - ◆Henri III., who had a short-lived affair with Catherine Charlotte - de La Tremoille, the wife of Prince de Condé. But the victory - was too easy; the princess was quite corrupt. Later on, the king - prostituted her with one of his pages, with whom she conspired to - poison her husband. The plot failed. When brought before the Court, - she was pardoned; but a servant named Brilland was torn apart by - four horses. It was also Henri III. who had debauched Marie de - Clèves, the first wife of the same Prince de Condé. - - ◆May very well refer to Henri de Lorraine, Duc de Guise, - assassinated at Blois. - - ◆Most probably refers to Marguerite de Valois, the king of Navarre, - the Duc d’Anjou and the St. Bartholomew. - -[62] P. 105: - - ◆Louis de Béranger du Guasi, one of Henri III.’s favorites, - assassinated in 1575 by M. de Viteaux. His epitaph is in the - _Manuscrit français_ 22565, f^o 901^o (Bibliothèque Nationale). - Brantôme, who boasts of being a swordsman, forgets that D’Aubigné - was also one. - - ◆A small town of Brittany (Dep. Ille-et-Vilaine), 14 miles from St. - Mâlo. Has a cathedral of 12th and 13th centuries; the bishopric was - suppressed in 1790. - -[63] P. 107: - - ◆To take a journey to Saint-Mathurin was a proverbial expression - which meant that a person was mad. Henri Estienne says that this - is a purely imaginary saint; be that as it may, he was credited - with curing madmen, and the satirical songs of the time are full of - allusions to that healing power. (See _Journal de Henri III_, 1720 - edition, t. II., pp. 307 and 308.) - -[64] P. 108: - - ◆Lalanne proves by a passage from Spartianus that this anecdote is - apocryphal, or that at least Brantôme has embellished it for his - own needs. (_Dames_, tom. IX., p. 116.) - - ◆Hadrian (P. Aelius Hadrianus), 14th in the series of Roman - Emperors, A. D. 117–138, succeeded his guardian and kinsman Trajan. - His wife, Sabina, here mentioned, was a grand-daughter of Trajan’s - sister Marciana. - -[65] P. 109: - - ◆Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (“The Philosopher”) succeeded Antonius - Pius as Emperor in A. D. 168. Died 180. His wife Faustina (as - profligate a woman as Messalina herself) was daughter of Pius. - Author of the famous _Meditations_. His son Commodus, who succeeded - him as Emperor, was a complete contrast in character to his father, - being vicious, weak, cruel and dissolute. - - ◆Another embellished passage. Faustine had died before Antoninus - Commodus was emperor. Moreover, she was only washed (_sublevare_, - says the text) with the blood of the gladiator. (J. Capitolin, - _Marc-Antoine le Philosophe_, Chap. xix.) - -[66] P. 113: - - ◆A discreet and veiled allusion to the amours of Marguerite de - Valois and of the Duchess de Nevers with La Môle and Coconas. - Implicated in the affair of Field Marshals de Cossé and de - Montmorency, La Môle, a Provençal nobleman, and Coconas, a - Piedmontese, were beheaded on the square of Grève towards the end - of April, 1574, and not killed in battle as Brantôme tries to - insinuate. The two princesses, mad with despair, transported the - bodies in their carriages to the place of burial, at Montmartre, - and kept the heads, which they had had embalmed. (_Mémoires de - Nevers_, I., p. 75, and _Le Divorce satirique_.) - -[67] P. 114: - - ◆It is Philippe Strozzi, Field Marshal of France, who was born at - Venice. Made lieutenant of the naval army in 1579 in order to - further the pretensions of Antonio of Portugal, he was defeated, - July 28, 1583, and put to death in cold blood by Santa Cruz, his - rival. (_Vie et mort ... de Philippe Strozzi._ Paris, Guil. Lenoir, - 1608.) - -[68] P. 119: - - ◆Thomas de Foix, lord of L’Escu or Lescun, was the brother of Mme. - de Chateaubriant, mistress of François I^{er}. He was captured at - Pavia and carried, mortally wounded, to the home of the lady of - whom Brantôme speaks. It was he who, by the surrender of Cremona in - 1522, caused France to lose Italy. (Guicciardini, t. III., p. 473, - Fribourg edition, 1775.) - -[69] P. 120: - - ◆Paolo Jovio, _Dialogo delle imprese militari ed amorose_, 1559, p. - 13. - - ◆Blaise de Montluc, author of the _Commentaires_, a diabolical - Gascon, made Field Marshal of France in 1574. The siege of La - Rochelle, which is here mentioned, took place in 1573. For details - on this personage, see the De Ruble edition of the _Commentaires_, - 1854–74, 5 vols. - - ◆Paulus Jovius (Paolo Giovio), Historian, was a native of Como; born - 1483, died 1552. - -[70] P. 122: - - ◆In his _Contre-Repentie_ (fol. 444, A. of his _Works_, 1576). - Joachim du Bellay, the poet, was born about 1524 at Lire in Anjou, - of a noble and distinguished family of that Province. After an - unfortunate youth, his talents ensured him a welcome at the Court - of François I. and his sister Marguerite de Valois, where he spent - some years. Died young, after a life of ill health, in 1560. - - ◆Francis Rabelais was born about 1483 at Chinon in Touraine, where - his father was an apothecary. After a stormy youth and some years - spent as a Monk in more than one Monastery of more than one Order, - and later wandering the country as a vagabond secular priest, he - was admitted Doctor in the Faculty of Medicine at Montpellier. - Countless stories of his pranks and adventures are told, many no - doubt mythical. He visited Rome as well as most parts of France in - the course of his life. He died Curé of Meudon, about 1553. - -[71] P. 123: - - ◆Chastity-belts of this sort were already in use at Venice at the - time. - - ◆There is in the Hennin collection of prints at the Bibliothèque - Nationale (t. III., f^o 64) a satirical print representing what - Brantôme relates here. A lady returns to her husband the key; but - behind the bed, the lover, hidden by a duenna, receives from the - latter a key similar to the husband’s. This instrument of jealousy - was the _cingulum pudicitiæ_ of the Romans, the “Florentine lock” - of the sixteenth century. Henri Aldegraver also engraved on the - sheath of a dagger a lady who is adorned with a lock of this kind. - (Bartsch, _Peintre-Graveur_, VIII., p. 437.) These refinements - in jealousy as well as the refinements in debauchery (of which - Brantôme will speak later) were of Italian origin. (See on this - subject _La Description de l’Ile des Hermaphrodites_, Cologne, - 1724, p. 43.) - -[72] P. 124: - - ◆Lampride, _Alexandre Sévère_, Chap. XXII. - -[73] P. 125: - - ◆Nicolas d’Estouteville, lord of Villeconnin, and not Villecouvin, - nobleman of the Chambre, died in Constantinople in February, 1567. - He had gone to Turkey to forget a disappointment in love or in - politics. Here is his epitaph: - - Le preux Villeconin en la fleur de ses ans, - Hélas! a délaissé nos esbatz si plaisans, - Laissant au temple sainct de la digne Memoire - Son labeur, son renom, son honneur et sa gloire. - -[74] P. 127: - - ◆Dr. Subtil, surname of J. Scott or Duns. - -[75] P. 128: - - ◆Saint Sophronie. - - ◆See De Thou liv. XLIX. There were, at the court of France, other - women who had escaped from Cyprus and who scarcely resembled this - heroine. Témoin de la Dayelle, of whom Brantôme speaks in the - _Dames illustres_, in the chapter on the Medicis. (_Journal de - Henri III._, 1720 edition, t. II., p. 142.) - -[76] P. 132: - - ◆Guillot le Songeur is, according to Lalanne, Don Guilan el Cuidador - of the _Amadis de Gaule_. - - ◆“Guillot le Songeur,” a name applied to any Pensive man,—from the - knight Julian le Pensif, one of the characters of the _Amadis of - Gaul_. - -[77] P. 136: - - ◆Danae, daughter of Acrisius, King of Argos, who confined her in - brazen tower, where Jupiter obtained access in the form of a golden - shower. - -[78] P. 137: - - ◆An allusion to Duke Henri de Guise. His wife Catherine de Clèves - had, in addition to her “bed lovers,” many other intrigues. (See - the _Confession de Sancy_, Chap. VIII., notes.) - -[79] P. 138: - - ◆Trajan (M. Ulpius Trajanus), Emperor A. D. 98–117. His wife - Plotina, here mentioned, was a woman of extraordinary merits and - virtues, according to the statements of all writers, with one - exception, who speak of her. She persuaded her husband to adopt - Hadrian who became his successor; but Dion Cassius is the only - author who says a word as to her intercourse with the latter having - been of a criminal character, and such a thing is utterly opposed - to all we know of her character. - -[80] P. 141: - - ◆This refers very likely to Brantôme’s voyage to Scotland. He had - accompanied Queen Mary Stuart in August, 1561, at the time of - her departure from France. Riccio, who was the favorite of “low - rank,” had arrived one year later; but Brantôme, who is relating - something which happened a long time before, is not precise: he is - unquestionably responding to a request of Queen Catherine. - -[81] P. 144: - - ◆In this passage, where Brantôme cleverly avows his wiles as a - courtier, he refers to the Queen of Spain, Elizabeth, the wife of - Philip II. The sister of the princess was Marguerite, Queen of - Navarre. The two young infantas, whose portraits are examined in - detail, were: the first, Isabella Claire Eugenie (later married to - Albert of Austria), who became a nun towards the end of her life; - the other, Catherine, married Charles Emmanuel de Savoie in 1585. - It is difficult to-day to see the resemblance of the two princesses - to their father, in spite of the great number of portraits of all - these personages; in fact, we can say that they were scarcely more - beautiful than their mother. (Cf. the beautiful portrait in crayon - of Queen Elizabeth at the Bibliothèque Nationale, Estampes Na 21, - f^o 69.) - - ◆The two Joyeuses: M. du Bouchage, and a gay companion. - -[82] P. 145: - - ◆Marguerite de Lorraine, married to Anne (Duke) de Joyeuse, the - favorite of Henri III. The sister-in-law of whom Brantôme speaks - could be neither Mme. du Bouchage nor Mme. de Mercoeur, who were - spared by the crudest pamphleteers; he undoubtedly refers to - Henriette, Duchess de Montpensier. - -[83] P. 146: - - ◆François de Vendôme, vidam of Chartres? (See _Fæneste_, 1729 - edition, p. 345.) - -[84] P. 148: - - ◆Ariosto, _Orlando furioso_, canto V., stanza 57: - - Io non credo, signor, che ti sia nova - La legge nostra.... - -[85] P. 149: - - ◆How can Brantôme, who had friends in the Huguenot camp, - deliberately relate such absurd tales? - -[86] P. 150: - - ◆There is a close likeness between this woman and the Godard de - Blois, a Huguenot, who was hanged for adultery in the year 1563. - -[87] P. 152: - - ◆At that period several persons bore the name of Beaulieu. Brantôme - may have in mind Captain Beaulieu, who held Vincennes for the Ligue - in 1594. (Chron. Novenn. III., liv. VII.) The chief prior was - Charles de Lorraine, son of the Duke de Guise. - -[88] P. 154: - - ◆The Comtesse de Senizon was accused of having contrived his escape, - and brought to book for it. - -[89] P. 155: - - ◆According to his habit, Brantôme disfigures what he quotes. Vesta - Oppia alone has the right to the name of “good woman”; Cluvia was - a profession-courtesan. (Cf. Livy, XXVI., Chap. xxxiii.) - -[90] P. 156: - - ◆This more human reason is probably truer than the one generally - given of Jean’s chivalrous conduct regarding his pledge. - - ◆Jean (surnamed le Bon), King of France, 1350–1364. Taken prisoner - by Edward the Black Prince at the battle of Poitiers. - -[91] P. 159: - - ◆Proverb marking the small connection that often exists between - gifts of body and good qualities of mind and character. - -[92] P. 161: - - ◆The quotation as given in the text is mutilated and the words - transposed. It should read: - - “Si tibi simplicitas uxoria, deditus uni - Est animus: ... - ... - Nil unquam invita donabis con juge: vendes - Hac obstante nihil; nihil, haec si nolit, emetur.” - - Juvenal, Sat. VI, 205 sqq. - - That is to say, “If you are attached solely and entirely to your - wife, ... you will not be able to give a thing away, or sell or buy - a thing, without her consent.” - -[93] P. 164: - - ◆They used to say of those Italian infamies: “_In Spagna, gli preti; - in Francia, i grandi; in Italia, tutti quanti._” - - ◆Why not let Boccaccio have the responsibility of this baseness? - (Decameron, Vth day, Xth story.) - -[94] P. 168: - - ◆Christine de Lorraine, daughter of Duke Charles, married to - Ferdinand I. de Medici. This young princess had arrived in Italy - adorned in her rich French gowns, which she soon cast off in favor - of Italian fashions. This concession quickly made her a favorite. - It was at the wedding of Christine that the first Italian operas - were performed. (Litta, _Medici di Firenze_, IV., tav. xv.) - -[95] P. 171: - - ◆Brantôme is very likely thinking of Princess de Condé, whom Pisani - brought before the Parliament, which acquitted her. - -[96] P. 174–175: - - ◆Probably an allusion to Mme. de Simiers and not to Marguerite de - Valois, as Lalanne thinks. More tenacious if not more constant than - the princess, Louise de Vitry, Lady de Simiers, lost successively - Charles d’Humières at Ham, Admiral de Villars at Dourlens, and the - Duke de Guise, whom she deeply loved and who gave her so little in - return; this does not include Count de Randan, who died at Issoire, - and others of less importance. When she reached old age, old - Desportes alone remained for her. He had been her first lover, a - poet, whom she had forgotten among her warriors; but it was much too - late for both of them. - - ◆Brantôme is mistaken; it is Seius and not Séjanus. - -[97] P. 177: - - ◆Théodore de Bèze, the Reformer; born at Vézelais, in the Nivernais, - 1519. Author, scholar, jurist and theologian. Died 1595. - -[98] P. 178: - - ◆All the satirical authors agree in charging Catherine de’Medici - with this radical change of the old French manners. It would be - juster to think also of the civil wars in Italy, which were not - without influence upon the looseness of the armies, and, therefore, - upon the whole of France. - -[99] P. 179: - - ◆It is the 91st epigram of Bk. I. - -[100] P. 180: - - ◆Isabella de Luna, a famous courtesan mentioned by Bandello. - - ◆Cardinal d’Armagnac was Georges, born in 1502, who was successively - ambassador in Italy and archbishop of Toulouse, and finally - archbishop of Evignon. - -[101] P. 181: - - ◆Quotation badly understood. _Crissantis_, in the Latin verse, is a - participle and not a proper noun. (Cf. Juvenal, sat. iv.) - - ◆_Filènes_, from _Philenus_, a courtesan in Lucian. - - ◆The line should read, - - Ipsa Medullinæ frictum crissantis adorat. - -[102] P. 184: - - ◆Brantôme seems to speak of himself; yet he might merely have played - the side rôle of confidant in the comedy. - -[103] P. 187: - - ◆Brantôme refers to the _Dialogue de la beauté des dames_. - Marguerite d’Autriche is not (as he says) the Duchess de Savoie, - who died in 1530, but the natural daughter of the Emperor; she - married Alessandro de’Medici, and later Ottavio Farnese. - -[104] P. 189: - - ◆The famous Church of Brou, at Bourg, was built in 1511–36 by - the beautiful Marguerite of Austria, wife of Philobert II., le - Beau, Duke of Savoy, in fulfilment of a vow made by Marguerite of - Bourbon, her mother-in-law. It contains the magnificent tombs of - Marguerite herself, her husband and mother-in-law. Celebrated in a - well-known poem, “The Church of Brou,” of Matthew Arnold. - -[105] P. 190: - - ◆Jean de Meung, the poet (nicknamed Clopinel on account of his - lameness), was born at the small town of Meung-sur-Loire in the - middle of the XIIIth Century. Died at Paris somewhere about 1320. - His famous _Roman de la Rose_ was a continuation of an earlier work - of the same name by Guillaume de Lorris, completed and published in - its final form by Jean de Meung. - -[106] P. 192: - - ◆Twenty-sixth Tale. It is Lord d’Avesnes, Gabriel d’Albret. - -[107] P. 194: - - ◆Claudia Quinta (Livy XXIX, 14). - -[108] P. 196: - - ◆Plutarch, Œuvres mêlées, LXXVII, t. II., p. 167, in the 1808 - edition. - -[109] P. 200: - - ◆The vogue of drawers dated from about 1577; three years later the - hoop was in great favor and served to do away with the petticoat. - Brantôme probably means that the lady discards the petticoat and - wears the hoop over the drawers. - -[110] P. 212: - - ◆The pun on _raynette_ and _raye nette_ cannot be reproduced in - English. - -[111] P. 213: - - ◆Etienne Pasquier, the great lawyer and opponent of the Jesuits, was - born at Paris, 1529; died 1615. - - ◆Thibaut, sixth of the name, Comte de Champagne et Brie, - subsequently King of Navarre, was born 1201. Surnamed _Faiseur de - Chansons_ from his poetic achievements. Brought up at the Court of - Philippe-Auguste. The whole romance of his love for Queen Blanche - of Castille is apparently apocryphal; it rests almost entirely on - statements of one (English) historian, Matthew Paris. She was 16 - years older than he, and is never once mentioned in his poems. - - ◆E. Pasquier, _Œuvres_, 1723, t. II, p. 38. “Which of the two,” - says Pasquier, “brings more satisfaction to a lover—to feel and - touch his love without speaking to her, or to see and speak to her - without touching her?” In the dialogue between Thibaut de Champagne - and Count de Soissons, Thibaut preferred to speak. - -[112] P. 215: - - ◆Brantôme aims here at Queen Catherine de’Medici and her favorites. - - ◆_Cf._ Plutarch, De Stoicorum repugnantiis, c. xxi. - -[113] P. 216: - - ◆_Id._, Demetrius, cap. xxvii. Brantôme is mistaken; the woman in - question was Thônis. - - ◆Eighteenth Tale. - - ◆The “wheel of the nose” was a sort of “mask beard” that women wore - in cold weather; it was attached to the hood below the eyes. - -[114] P. 220: - - ◆It was François de Compeys, lord of Gruffy, who sold his estate in - 1518 in order to expatriate himself. - -[115] P. 221: - - ◆It is not three but four S’s that the perfect lover must carry with - him, according to Luis Barabona (_Lagrimas de Angelica_, canto - IV.), and these four S’s mean: - - SABIO, SOLO, SOLICITO ET SEGRETO. - - These initial letters were much in vogue in Spain during the sixteenth - century. - -[116] P. 224: - - ◆This story was popular in Paris; it was amplified and embellished - into a drama and ascribed to Marguerite de Bourgogne. Was it not - Isabeau de Bavière? - - ◆Isabeau, or Isabelle, de Bavière, wife of the half imbecile Charles - VI. of France, and daughter of Stephen II., Duke of Bavaria, was - born 1371; died 1435. Among countless other intrigues was one - with the Duc d’Orléans, her husband’s brother. One of her lovers, - Louis de Boisbourdon, was thrown into the Seine in a leather sack - inscribed _Laissez passer la justice du roi_. The famous story of - the Tour de Nesles seems mythical. - -[117] P. 225: - - ◆See under _Buridan_, in Bayle’s _Dict. Critique_. Compare also - Villon, in his Ballade of the _Dames des Temps Jadis_ (Fair Dames - of Yore): - - Semblablement où est la reine, - Qui commanda que Buridan - Fust jeté en un sac en Seine? - - (Likewise where is the Queen, who commanded Buridan to be cast in a - sack into the Seine?) - -[118] P. 227: - - ◆Plutarch, Anthony, Chap. xxxii. - -[119] P. 229: - - ◆Livy, lib. XXX., cap. xv. Appien, _De Rebus punicis_, XXVII. - - ◆Joachim du Bellay, _Œuvres poétiques_, 1597. - - ◆_La Vieille Courtisane_ (“The Old Courtesan”), fol. 449. B. of the - _Œuvres poét._ of Joachim du Bellay, edition of 1597. - -[120] P. 230: - - ◆This pun is difficult to explain. - -[121] P. 231: - - ◆Lucian, _Amours_, XV. - -[122] P. 235: - - ◆Marguerite, wife of Henri IV., whose elegance drew from the old - Queen Catherine this remark: “No matter where you may go, the court - will take the fashion from you, and not you from the court.” - - (Brantôme, _Elogé de la reine Marguerite_.) - - ◆Brantôme alludes to the Duke d’Anjou. - - ◆Jeanne de Navarre, wife of Philippe le Bel, King of France, - daughter and sole heiress of Henri I. of Navarre, was born - 1272, died 1305 at the early age of 33. She was a beautiful and - accomplished Princess, and the tales told by some historians - reflecting on her character are apparently quite without foundation. - - ◆The _Divorce satyrique_ attributes this contrivance to Queen - Marguerite, who adopted it to make her husband, the King of - Navarre, more deeply enamoured and more naughty. - -[123] P. 236: - - ◆These are taken from an old French book entitled: _De la louange - et beauté des Dames_ (“Of the Praise and Beauty of Ladies”). - François Corniger has put the same into 18 Latin lines. Vencentio - Calmeta has rendered them also into Italian verse, commencing with - the words: _Dolce Flaminia_. - - ◆Pliny speaks of this Helen of Zeuxis. - -[124] P. 237: - - ◆Ronsard, _Œuvres_, 1584 edition, p. 112. It is a poem addressed to - the famous painter Clouet, according to Janet, in which the poet - sings the praises of his fair lady. This poem has more than one - point in common with the present chapter of the _Dames_. - -[125] P. 238: - - ◆Marot had arranged this Spanish proverb into a quatrain, and at the - time of the Ligue it was applied to the Infanta of Spain: - - Pourtant, si je suis brunette, - Amy, n’en prenez esmoy, - Car autant aymer souhaitte - Qu’une plus blanche que moy. - -[126] P. 239: - - ◆Raymond Lulle was a native of Majorca, and lived towards the end - of the thirteenth century: he was reputed to be a magician. The - story that Brantôme tells was taken from the _Opuscula_ by Charles - Bovelles, fol. XXXIV. of the in-4^o edition of 1521. The famous - Raimond Lulle (generally known in England as Raimond Lully), - philosopher and schoolman, was celebrated throughout the Middle - Ages for his logic and his commentary on Aristotle, and above all - for his art of Memory, or Ars Lulliana. He was born at Palma, the - capital of Majorca, in 1235. He travelled in various countries, and - died (1315) in Africa after suffering great hardships, having gone - there as a missionary. - -[127] P. 240: - - ◆Or Charles de Bouvelles. His life of Raymond Lulle is a quarto, - printed at Paris, and published by Ascencius. It is dated 3rd of - the Nones of December, 1511. Several other works by the same author - are extant. - - ◆Arnauld de Villeneuve, a famous alchemist of the end of the - thirteenth century; he died in a shipwreck, in 1313. - - ◆Oldrade, a jurist, was born at Lodi in the thirteenth century. His - _Codex de falsa moneta_ is not known. - -[128] P. 242: - - ◆Sisteron, in the Department of the Basses-Alpes, on the Durance. - Seat of a Bishopric from the 4th Century down to 1770. - - ◆Aimeric de Rochechouart (1545–1582) was the bishop of Sisteron; he - succeeded his uncle Albin de Rochechouart. As to the “very great - lady,” that applies to one of a dozen princesses. - -[129] P. 244: - - ◆Pliny, XXXIII., cap. iv. Brantôme is mistaken about the temple. - -[130] P. 246: - - ◆Claude Blosset, lady of Torcy, the daughter of Jean Blosset and - of Anne de Cugnac. She married Louis de Montberon (in 1553), - Baron de Fontaines and Chalandray, first gentleman of the king’s - bed-chamber. The beautiful Torcy, as she was called, had been - presented to Queen Eleonor by Mme. de Canaples, the enemy of Mme. - d’Etampes. - - ◆Hubert Thomas, _Annales de vita Friderici II. Palatini_ (Francfort, - 1624), gives no idea of this exaggeration of Queen Eleonor’s bust, - who was promised to Frederick Palatine. - -[131] P. 248: - - ◆Suetonius, _Octavius Augustus_, cap. lxix. - -[132] P. 249: - - ◆Henri de Lorraine, Duc de Guise, nicknamed _le Balafré_, born 1550. - Murdered by the King’s (Henri III.) orders at Blois in 1588. - - ◆Duc d’Anjou, afterwards Henri III. - -[133] P. 250: - - ◆The personages in question are probably Bussy d’Amboise and - Marguerite de Valois. - -[134] P. 252: - - ◆The king was Henri II., and the grand widow lady the Duchess de - Valentinois. They thought it was due to a charm. - -[135] P. 254: - - ◆Pico della Mirandola, _Opera omnia_, t. II., liv. III., chap. - xxii., in the 1517 edition. - - ◆Pico della Mirandola, one of the greatest of all the brilliant - scholars of the Renaissance, and so famous for the precocity - and versatility of his talents, was born 1463. After completing - his studies at Bologna and elsewhere, he visited Rome, where he - publicly exhibited a hundred propositions _De omni re scribili_, - which he undertook to defend against all comers. The maturity of - his powers he devoted to the study of religion and the Platonic - philosophy. He died 1494, on the day of Charles VIII.’s entry into - Florence. - -[136] P. 255: - - ◆Ferdinando Francesco Avalos, Marquis de Pescaire, of a well-known - Neapolitan family, began his career as a soldier in 1512 at - the battle of Ravenna. Distinguished himself by the capture of - Milan (1521) and numerous other brilliant feats of arms. Took an - important part in the battle of Pavia, where François I. of France - was taken prisoner. Wounded in that battle, and died in the same - year, 1525. His wife was the celebrated Vittoria Colonna. - -[137] P. 257: - - ◆Josephus, _The Antiquities of the Jews_, Bk. XV., Chap. vii. Herod - the Great; died B. C. 4. He put to death his wife Mariamné, as well - as her grandfather and his own sons by her. - -[138] P. 258: - - ◆Shiraz, a town of Persia, capital of the Province of Fars, famous - for its roses, wine and nightingales, sung by the Persian poets - Hafiz and Saadi. - - ◆Plutarch, _Alexander_, Chap. XXXIX. - - ◆It is in his_ Observations de plusieurs singularités_ (Paris, 1554) - that Belon reports this fact. (Liv. III., chap. x., p. 179.) - -[139] P. 261: - - ◆The usual form is Ortiagon. The woman is the beautiful Queen - Chiomara. (Cf. Livy, XXXVIII., cap. xxiv., and Boccaccio, _De - claris mulieribus_, LXXIV.) Chiomara, wife of Ortiagon, King of - Galatia, was taken prisoner by the Romans when Cn. Manlius Vulso - invaded Galatia, B. C. 189. The story is told by Polybius (XXII., - 21). - -[140] P. 262: - - ◆Suetonius, _Cæsar_, LII. - -[141] P. 263: - - ◆Livy, XXX., cap. xv. - - ◆Plutarch, _Cato the Elder_. Brantôme attributes the anecdote to - Scipion. - -[142] P. 265: - - ◆Charles de Lorraine, Cardinal de Guise, known as Cardinal de - Lorraine, died in 1574. He played an important rôle at the Council - of Trente. Brantôme refers to the truce of Vaucelles between Henri - II. and the Emperor, which Cardinal Caraffa had succeeded in - breaking in 1556. This passage had evidently been written before - 1588, the year of the death of another Cardinal de Guise, the - brother of Balafré. - - ◆The beautiful Venitians are described by Vecellio as wearing - exquisite gowns on holidays. (See Vecellio, _Habiti antichi_, - Venice, 1590.) - -[143] P. 266: - - ◆This passage is not in the _Dies geniales_ by Alessandro, but in - Herodotus, II., chap. ix. - -[144] P. 267: - - ◆What Brantôme says of Flora is not true. The woman in question was - not called Flora, but Acca Taruntia. - -[145] P. 269: - - ◆Pausanius, Suetonius, and Manilius have not written special works - on women. Brantôme is no doubt referring to the anecdotes that are - found in their works. - - -[146] P. 273: - - ◆This princess was Catherine de’Medeci. - -[147] P. 275: - - ◆The same story has been told of Mademoiselle, cousin german of - Louis XIV., with this addition that she was in the habit of giving - any of her pages who were tempted by her charms a few louis to - enable them to satisfy their passion elsewhere. - -[148] P. 276: - - ◆Suetonius, _Vitellius_, cap. ii.: “Messalina petit ut sibi pedes - præberet excalceandos.” Brantôme prefers to quote in his own manner. - - ◆LVIIth Tale. - - ◆Undoubtedly the grand prior François de Lorraine, who accompanied - Mary Stuart to Scotland; however, D’Aumale and René d’Elbeuf also - accompanied her. - -[149] P. 281: - - ◆Philip II., of Spain, son of Charles the Fifth, born 1527; died - 1588. The husband of Queen Mary of England. - -[150] P. 282: - - ◆Béatrix Pacheco was lady of honor to Eleonor d’Autriche prior - to 1544 with several other Spanish ladies; she became Countess - d’Entremont through her marriage with Sébastien d’Entremont. Her - daughter, the woman in question here, was Jacqueline, the second - wife of Admiral de Coligny, against whom the enemies of her husband - turned; she was not, however, beyond reproach. - -[151] P. 284: - - ◆The description which follows was textually taken by Brantôme from - account printed at Lyons, in 1549, entitled: “La magnificence de la - superbe et triomphante entrée de la noble et antique cité de Lyon - faicte au très-chrestien Roy de France Henry deuxiesme.” - -[152] P. 286: - - ◆Brazilian wood, known before the discovery of America. _Brésil_ is - a common noun here. - -[153] P. 287: - - ◆The king’s visit to Lyons took place September 18, 1548. - -[154] P. 288: - - ◆La _volte_ was a dance that had come from Italy in which the - gentleman, after having made his partner turn two or three times, - raised her from the floor in order to make her cut a caper in the - air. This is the caper of which Brantôme is speaking. - - ◆Paul de Labarthe, lord of Thermes, Field Marshal of France, died in - 1562. (Montluc, Ruble edition, t. II., p. 55.) - -[155] P. 289: - - ◆Scio (Chios) was the only island in the Orient where the women wore - short dresses. - -[156] P. 298: - - ◆Suetonius, _Caligula_, XXV. “Cæsonia was first the mistress and - afterwards the wife of the Emperor Caligula. She was neither - handsome nor young when Caligula fell in love with her; but she - was a woman of the greatest licentiousness.... At the time he was - married to Lollia Paulina, whom, however, he divorced in order to - marry Cæsonia, who was with child by him, A. D. 38.... Cæsonia - contrived to preserve the attachment of her imperial husband down - to the end of his life; but she is said to have effected this - by love-potions, which she gave him to drink, and to which some - persons attributed the unsettled state of Caligula’s mental powers - during the latter years of his life. Cæsonia and her daughter - (Julia Drusilla) were put to death on the same day that Caligula - was murdered, A. D. 41.” - -[157] P. 299: - - ◆The Emperor Caracalla (M. Aurelius Antoninus) was the son of the - Emperor Septimus Severus and was born at Lyons, at the time - his father was Governor of Gallia Lugdunensis. Caracalla (like - Caligula) is really only a nickname, derived from the long Gaulish - cloak which he adopted and made fashionable. Reigned from Severus’ - death at York in 211 to his own assassination in 217. His brother - Geta was at first associated with him in the Empire. Him he - murdered, and is said to have suffered remorse for the act to the - end of his life,—remorse from which he sought distraction in every - kind of extravagant folly and reckless cruelty. - - ◆Spartianus, _Caracalla_, Chap. x. - -[158] P. 300: - - ◆This son was Geta. - -[159] P. 301: - - ◆Béatrix was the daughter of Count Guillaume de Tenda; to her second - husband, Phillipe Marie Visconti, she brought all the wealth of her - first husband, Facino Cane. In spite of her ripe years, Béatrix was - suspected of adultery with Michel Orombelli, and Phillipe Marie had - them both killed. As a matter of fact this was a convenient way of - appropriating Facino Cane’s wealth. - - ◆Collenuccio, liv. IV., anno 1194. - - ◆Filippo Maria Visconti; born 1391, died 1447. Last Duke of Milan of - the house of Visconti, the sovereignty passing at his death to the - Sforzas. - - ◆Facino (Bonifacio) Cane, the famous _condottiere_ and despot - of Alessandria, was born of a noble family about 1360. The - principality he eventually acquired in N. Italy embraced, besides - Alessandria, Pavia, Vercelli, Tortona, Varese, and all the shores - of the Lago Maggiore. Died 1412. - - ◆Mother of Frederick II. - - ◆Pandolfo Collenuccio, famous as author, historian and juris-consult - towards the end of the XIVth century. Born at Pesaro, where he - spent most of his life, and where he was executed (1500) by order - of Giovanni Sforza, in consequence of his intrigues with Cæsar - Borgia, who was anxious to acquire the sovereignty of that city. - -[160] P. 302: - - ◆Daughter of Bernardin de Clermont, Vicomte de Tallard. - - ◆Brantôme undoubtedly aims here at Marguerite de Clermont. - -[161] P. 303: - - ◆Jean de Bourdeille. - - ◆Renée, daughter of Louis XII., married to the Duke of Ferraro. She - was ungainly but very learned. - -[162] P. 304: - - ◆Marguerite d’Angoulème. - -[163] P. 312: - - ◆Meung-sur-Loire, dep. Loiret, on right bank of the Loire, eleven - miles below Orléans. - - ◆Eclaron, dép. Maute-Marne. - - ◆Leonor, Duke de Longueville. - - ◆François de Lorraine, Duke de Guise. - -[164] P. 313: - - ◆Louis I., Prince de Condé. - - ◆Captain Averet, died at Orléans in 1562. - - ◆_Compère_ was the name King Henri II. gave the Constable de - Montmorency. - -[165] P. 316: - - ◆_Octavius_ is translated _Octavie_ by Brantôme. _Cf._ Suetonius, - _Caligula_, XXXVI., and _Octavius Augustus_, LXIX. - - ◆Suetonius, _Nero_, XXXIV. - -[166] P. 318: - - ◆Brantôme undoubtedly refers to Henri III. and to the Duke - d’Alençon, his brother. - -[167] P. 319: - - ◆Plutarch names this woman _Aspasia_ and makes her a priestess of - Diana. _Cf._ _Artaxerxes-Mnemon_, Chap. XXVI. - - ◆Collenuccio, liv. V., p. 208. - - ◆Artaxerxes I. (Longimanus), King of Persia for forty years, B. C. - 465 to 425; he succeeded his father Xerxes, having put to death his - brother Darius. - -[168] P. 320: - - ◆Wife of François d’Orléans. - - ◆Diane died at the age of 66, April 22, 1566; she was born in 1499. - - ◆Jacqueline de Rohan-Gié, married to François d’Orléans, Marquis de - Rothelin. - -[169] P. 321: - - ◆François Robertet, widow of Jean Babou, whose second husband was - Field Marshal d’Aumont. - - ◆Catherine de Clermont, wife of Guy de Mareuil, grandmother of the - Duke du Montpensier, François, surnamed the _Prince-Dauphin_. - - ◆Gabrielle de Mareuil, married to Nicolas d’Anjou, Marquis de - Mézières. - - ◆Jacqueline or Jacquette de Montberon. - - ◆Françoise Robertet, widow of Jean Babon de la Bourdaisière. - -[170] P. 322: - - ◆Paule Viguier, baronne de Fontenille. - - ◆Françoise de Longwi. - - ◆The praise of this Toulousean beauty is to be found in the very - rare opuscule by G. Minot, _De la beauté_, 1587. - -[171] P. 323: - - ◆Anne d’Este. She was not exempt from the faults of a corrupt court. - - ◆This journey occurred in 1574. - - ◆Louis XII. - -[172] P. 324: - - ◆Jean d’O, seigneur de Maillebois. - - ◆It is not François Gonzagne, but Guillaume Gonzagne, his brother - and successor to the duchy of Mantoue, born in 1538, died in 1587. - -[173] P. 325: - - ◆He returns here to the Duchess de Guise. - -[174] P. 326: - - ◆At the wedding of Charles Emmanuel, married to Catherine, daughter - of Philip II. of Spain. - -[175] P. 327: - - ◆Marie d’Aragon, wedded to Alphonse d’Avalos, Marquis del Guasto or - Vasto. - - ◆Henri II., son of Francis I., and husband of Catherine de Medici. - Born 1518. Came to throne in 1547; accidentally killed in a tourney - by Montgommeri 1559. - - ◆Paul IV. (of the illustrious Neapolitan family of Caraffa) was - raised to the chair of St. Peter in 1558; died 1559. - - ◆This viceroy was Don Perafan, Duke d’Alcala, who entered Naples - June 12, 1559. - -[176] P. 328: - - ◆Claude de Lestrange? - -[177] P. 331: - - ◆Brantôme’s memory fails him. Of the two daughters of the Marquess, - Béatrix, the first married Count de Potenza; the other, Prince de - Sulmone. - -[178] P. 336: - - ◆His son was François Ferdinand, Viceroy of Sicily, died in 1571. - -[179] P. 337: - - ◆Soliman II. - -[180] P. 351: - - ◆Referring to Montaigne’s _Essays_. - - - END OF VOLUME ONE - - - —————————————— End of Book —————————————— - - - - - Transcriber’s Note (continued) - - -The book contains long passages of older French in which the reader -will notice many flaws in grammar, spelling and accents. These may make -some of the French difficult to read but it will be obvious that this -cannot be fixed without sometimes inadvertently changing the intended -meaning. For that reason all passages in French are presented unchanged -in this transcription. - -Similarly with the passages in Italian and Spanish. - -For the rest of the text, the many inconsistencies in English spelling, -capitalisation, and hyphenation have been left unchanged except where -noted below. Other minor typographical errors have been corrected -without note. - - Page xxvi – “ocasionally” changed to “occasionally” (occasionally - borrow) - - Page 5 – “satsified” changed to “satisfied” (would fain be satisfied) - - Page 18 – “emprisonment” changed to “imprisonment” (in perpetual - imprisonment) - - Page 27 – “notorios” changed to “notorious” (most notorious harlot) - - Page 46 – “pourtrayed” changed to “portrayed” (were portrayed a - number of) - - Page 133 – “armourors” changed to “armourers” (armourers that do - make swords) - - Page 145 – “si” changed to “is” (love is mastered by scorn) - - Page 152 – “exceeding” changed to “exceedingly” (an exceedingly - narrow) - - Page 157 – “hade” changed to “had” (that had made) - - Page 162 – “acommodating” changed to “accommodating” (far more - accommodating) - - Page 199 – “consecrate” changed to “consecrated” (the most surely - consecrated and devoted to Venus) - - Page 226 – “alway” changed to “always” (always hard at the collar) - - Page 236 – “thans” changed to “than” (than Zeuxis himself) - - Page 237 – “alway” changed to “always” (yet will a beautiful woman - always be beautiful) - - Page 237 – “an” changed to “and” (and if she have but the half) - - Page 242 – “witties” changed to “wittiest” (one of the wittiet men - at Court) - - Page 248 – “vigins” changed to “virgins” (even virgins of marriageable - age) - - Page 288 – “nypmh” changed to “nymphs” (in the nymphs’ costume) - - —————————— - -The numbered references to endnotes on the pages of the book are -incorrect in most cases. Many other pages of the book should have -had references to endnotes but those references are missing. - -In order to reindex the references in this transcription, a temporary -‘placeholder’ reference was added to those pages where there should -have been at least one numbered reference to endnotes but it was -omitted in the book. - -The transcriber has retained these placeholder references as they are -helpful to the reader. Placeholder references are distinguished by an -asterisk next to the index number (as in [99*], for example). Their -role is exactly the same as that of the references originally present -in the book; namely to direct the reader to the correct page header in -the endnotes. Under that page header will be found all the author’s -notes relevant to the page. - -Where originally there were more than one numbered reference to -endnotes on a page of the book, these now have the same index number -in this transcription. That index number links to the respective page -header in the endnotes. - -Endnotes have been reformatted so that each separate note is -distinguished by a prefixing ◆ character. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIVES OF FAIR AND GALLANT -LADIES. VOL 1 *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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