Part 29

Now you must know that he had formerly married at Ghent a beautiful and virtuous lady, who loved him and held him dear with all her heart, and who daily prayed to God that shortly she might see him again if he were still alive; and that if he were dead, He would of His grace pardon his sins, and include him in the number of those glorious martyrs, who to repel the infidel, and that the holy Catholic faith might be exalted, had given up their mortal lives.

This good lady, who was rich, beautiful, virtuous, and possessed of many noble friends, was continually pressed and assailed by her friends to remarry; they declaring and affirming that her husband was dead, and that if he were alive he would have returned like the others; or if he were a prisoner, she would have received notice to prepare his ransom. But whatever reasons were adduced, this virtuous lady could not be persuaded to marry again, but excused herself as well as she was able.

These excuses served her little or nothing, for her relatives and friends so pressed her that she was obliged to obey. But God knows that it was with no small regret, and after she had been for nine years deprived of the presence of her good and loyal husband, whom she believed to be long since dead, as did most or all who knew him; but God, who guards and preserves his servants and champions, had otherwise ordered it, for he still lived and performed his arduous labours as a slave.

To return to our story. This virtuous lady was married to another knight, and lived with him for half a year, without hearing anything further about her first husband.

By the will of God, however, this good and true knight, Messire Clays, who was still in Turkey, when his wife married again, and there working as a slave, was, by means of some Christian gentlemen and merchants, delivered, and returned in their galley.

As he was on his return, he met and found in passing through various places, many of his acquaintance, who were overjoyed at his delivery, for in truth he was a most valiant man, of great renown and many virtues; and so the most joyful rumour of his much wished-for deliverance spread into France, Artois, and Picardy, where his virtues were not less known than they were in Flanders, of which country he was a native. And from these countries it soon reached Flanders, and came to the ears of his beauteous and virtuous lady and spouse, who was astounded thereat, and her feelings so overcame her as to deprive her of her senses.

“Ah,” she said, as soon as she could speak, “my heart was never willing to do that which my relations and friends forced me to do. Alas! what will my most loving lord and husband say? I have not kept faith with him as I should, but--like a frail, frivolous, and weak-minded woman,--have given to another part and portion of that of which he alone should be lord and master! I cannot, and dare not await his coming. I am not worthy that he should look at me, or that I should be seen in his company,” and with these words her most chaste, virtuous, and loving heart failed her, and she fell fainting.

She was carried and laid upon a bed, and her senses returned to her, but from that time it was not in the power of man or woman to make her eat or sleep, and thus she continued three days, weeping continually, and in the greatest grief of mind that ever woman was. During which time she confessed and did all that a good Christian should, and implored pardon of all, and most especially of her husband.

Soon afterwards she died, which was a great misfortune; and it need not be told what grief fell upon the said lord, her husband, when he heard the news. His sorrow was such that he was in great danger of dying as his most loving wife had done; but God, who had saved him from many other great perils, preserved him also from this.

*****

STORY THE SEVENTIETH -- THE DEVIL’S HORN.

By Monseigneur.

_Of a noble knight of Germany, a great traveller in his time; who after he had made a certain voyage, took a vow to never make the sign of the Cross, owing to the firm faith and belief that he had in the holy sacrament of baptism--in which faith he fought the devil, as you will hear._

A noble knight of Germany, a great traveller, distinguished in arms, courteous, and largely endowed with all good virtues, had just returned from a long journey, and was in his castle, when he was asked by one of his vassals living in the same town, to be godfather to his child, which had been born on the same day that the knight returned.

To which request the knight willingly acceded, and although he had during his life held many children at the font, he had never before listened to the holy words pronounced by the priest at this holy and excellent sacrament as he did this time, and they seemed to him--as indeed they are-full of high and divine mystery.

The baptism being finished, he being liberal and courteous and willing to oblige his vassals, remained to dine in the town, instead of returning to his castle, and with him dined the curé, his fellow sponsor, and other persons of renown.

The discourse turned on various matters, when the knight began to greatly praise the excellent sacrament of baptism, and said in a loud and clear voice that all might hear;

“If I knew for a truth that at my baptism had been pronounced the great and holy words which I heard to-day at the baptism of my latest god-son, I would not believe that the devil could have any power or authority over me, except to tempt me, and I would refrain from ever making the sign of the Cross, not that--let it be well understood--I do not well know that sign is sufficient to repel the devil, but because I believe that the words pronounced at the baptism of every Christian (if they are such as I have to-day heard) are capable of driving away all the devils of hell, however many they might be.”

“Truly then, monseigneur,” replied the curé, “I assure you _in verbo sacerdotis_ that the same words which were said to-day at the baptism of your god-son were pronounced at your baptism. I know it well, for I myself baptised you, and I remember it as well as though it were yesterday. God be merciful to monseigneur your father--he asked me the day after your baptism, what I thought of his son; such and such were your sponsors, and such and such were present,” and he related all

## particulars about the baptism, and showed that it was certain that in

not a word did it differ from that of his god-son.

“Since it is thus,” then said the noble knight, “I vow to God, my creator, that I have such firm faith in the holy sacrament of baptism that never again, for any danger, encounter, or assault that the devil may make against me, will I make the sign of the Cross, but solely by the memory of the sacrament of baptism I will drive him behind me; such a firm belief have I in this divine mystery, that it does not seem possible to me that the devil can hurt a man so shielded, for that rite needs no other aid if accompanied by true faith.”

The dinner passed, and I know not how many years after, the good knight was in a large town in Germany, about some business which drew him thither, and was lodged in an inn. As he was one night along with his servants, after supper, talking and jesting with them, he wished to retire, but as his servants were enjoying themselves he would not disturb them, so he took a candle and went alone. As he entered the closet he saw before him a most horrible and terrible monster, having large and long horns, eyes brighter than the flames of a furnace, arms thick and long, sharp and cutting claws,--in fact a most extraordinary monster, and a devil, I should imagine.

And for such the good knight took it, and was at first greatly startled at such a meeting. Nevertheless, he boldly determined to defend himself if he were attacked, and he remembered the vow he had made concerning the holy and divine mystery of baptism. And in this faith he walked up to the monster, whom I have called a devil, and asked him who he was and what he wanted?

The devil, without a word, attacked him, and the good knight defended himself, though he had no other weapons than his hands (for he was in his doublet, being about to go to bed) and the protection of his firm faith in the holy mystery of baptism.

The struggle lasted long, and the good knight was so weary that it was strange he could longer endure such an assault. But he was so well-armed by his faith that the blows of his enemy had but little effect. At last, when the combat had lasted a full hour, the good knight took the devil by the horns, and tore one of them out, and beat him therewith soundly.

Then he went away victorious, leaving the devil writhing on the ground, and went back to his servants, who were still enjoying themselves, as they had been doing when he left. They were much frightened to see their master sweating and out of breath, and with his face all scratched, and his doublet, shirt, and hose disarranged and torn.

“Ah, sir,” they cried; “whence come you, and who has thus mauled you?”

“Who?” he replied. “Why it was the devil, with whom I have fought so long that I am out of breath, and in the condition in which you see me; and I swear to you that I truly believe he would have strangled and devoured me, if I had not at that moment remembered my baptism, and the great mystery of that holy sacrament, and the vow that I made I know not how many years ago. And, believe me, I have kept that vow, and though I was in danger, I never made the sign of the Cross, but remembering the aforesaid holy sacrament, boldly defended myself, and have escaped scot free; for which I praise and thank our Lord who with the shield of faith hath preserved me safely. Let all the other devils in hell come; as long as this protection endures, I fear them not. Praise be to our blessed God who is able to endue his knights with such weapons.”

The servants of the good knight, when they heard their master relate this story, were very glad to find he had escaped so well, and much astonished at the horn he showed them, and which he had torn out of the devil’s head. And they could not discover, neither could any person who afterwards saw it, of what it was formed; if it were bone or horn, as other horns are, or, what it was.

Then one of the knight’s servants said that he would go and see if this devil were still where his master had left it, and if he found it he would fight it, and tear out its other horn. His master told him not to go, but he said he would.

“Do not do it,” said his master; “the danger is too great.”

“I care not,” replied the other; “I will go.”

“If you take my advice,” said his master, “you will not go.”

But he would disobey his master and go. He took in one hand a torch, and in the other a great axe, and went to the place where his master had met and fought the devil. What happened no one knows, but his master, who, fearing for his servant, followed him as quickly as he could, found neither man nor devil, nor ever heard what became of the man.

Thus, in the manner that you have heard, did this good knight fight against the devil, and overcome him by the virtue of the holy sacrament of baptism.

*****

[Illustration: 71.jpg The considerate Cuckold]

STORY THE SEVENTY-FIRST -- THE CONSIDERATE CUCKOLD

By Monseigneur Le Duc.

_Of a knight of Picardy, who lodged at an inn in the town of St. Omer, and fell in love with the hostess, with whom he was amusing himself--you know how--when her husband discovered them; and how he behaved--as you will shortly hear._

At Saint Omer, not long ago, there happened an amusing incident, which is as true as the Gospel, and is known to many notable people worthy of faith and belief. In short, the story is as follows.

A noble knight of Picardy, who was lively and lusty, and a man of great authority and high position, came to an inn where the quartermaster of Duke Philip of Burgundy had appointed him to lodge. (*)

(*) The _fourrier_--which, for want of a better word, I have translated as “quartermaster,”--was an officer of the household of a prince or great lord. One of his duties was to provide lodgings for all the retinue whenever his master was travelling.

As soon as he had jumped off his horse, and put foot to the ground, his hostess--as is the custom in that part of the country--came forward smiling most affably, and received him most honourably, and, as he was the most kind and courteous of men, he embraced her and kissed her gently, for she was pretty and nice, healthy-looking and nattily dressed--in fact very tempting to kiss and cuddle--and at first sight each took a strong liking to the other.

The knight wondered by what means he could manage to enjoy the person of his hostess, and confided in one of his servants, who in a very short time so managed the affair that the two were brought together.

When the noble knight saw his hostess ready to listen to whatever he had to say, you may fancy that he was joyful beyond measure; and in his great haste and ardent desire to discuss the question he wanted to argue with her, forgot to shut the door of the room, which his servant, when he departed after bringing the woman in, had left half open.

The knight, without troubling about preludes, began an oration in dumb-show; and the hostess, who was not sorry to hear him, replied to his arguments in such a manner that they soon agreed well together, and never was music sweeter, or instruments in better tune, than it was for those two, by God’s mercy.

But it happened, by I know not what chance, that the host of the inn, the husband of the woman, was seeking his wife to tell her something, and passing by chance by the chamber where his wife and the knight were playing the cymbals, heard the sound. He turned towards the spot where this pleasant pastime was going on, and pushing open the door, saw the knight and his wife harnessed together, at which he was by far the most astonished of the three, and drew back quickly, fearing to prevent and disturb the said work which they were performing. But all that he did by way of menace or remonstrance was to call out from behind the door; “Morbleu! you are not only wicked but thoughtless. Have you not the sense, when you want to do anything of that sort, to shut the door behind you? Just fancy what it would have been if anyone else had found you! By God, you would have been ruined and dishonoured, and your misdeeds discovered and known to all the town! In the devil’s name, be more careful another time!” and without another word, he closed the door and went away; and the honest couple re-tuned their bagpipes, and finished the tune they had begun.

And when this was finished, each went his or her own way as unconcernedly as though nothing had happened; and the circumstance would I believe have never been known--or at least not so publicly as to come to your ears, and the ears of so many other people,--had it not been that the husband vexed himself so little about the matter that he thought less of being cuckolded than he did of finding the door unbolted.

*****

STORY THE SEVENTY-SECOND -- NECESSITY IS THE MOTHER OF INVENTION.

By Monseigneur De Commensuram.

_Of a gentleman of Picardy who was enamoured of the wife of a knight his neighbour; and how he obtained the lady’s favours and was nearly caught with her, and with great difficulty made his escape, as you will hear later._

Apropos of the previous story, there lived formerly in Picardy--and I believe he is living there now--a gentlemen who was so enamoured of the wife of a knight, his neighbour, that he deemed no day or hour happy if he were not with her, or at least had news of her;--and he was quite as dear to her--which is no small matter.

But the misfortune was that they could find no means of meeting secretly to open their hearts to each other, and in no case would they do so in the presence of a third person, however good a friend he or she might be. At last, after many sad nights and days, Love, who aids and succours his loyal servants when he pleases, procured for them the much-desired day, when the poor husband,--the most jealous man living--was obliged to leave his house on account of some pressing business by which he would gain a large sum if he were present, and would lose his money if he were absent. By gaining which sum he reaped an even better reward--that of being called a cuckold as well as a jealous man--for he had no sooner left his house than the gentleman, who was watching for no other quarry, popped into the house, and without staying long, at once performed that for which he came, and received from his lady all that a lover can and dare demand; as pleasantly and as leisurely as they could both wish.

And they did not suppose that the husband would surprise them, but looked forward to a time of unalloyed pleasure, hoping that the night would complete that which the most joyful day--by far too short--had begun, and really believing that the poor devil of a husband could not return before dinner-time the following day at the earliest.

But it happened otherwise, for the devil brought him home. I know not, and care not to know how it was that he could get through his business so quickly, suffice it to say that he came back that night, at which the company--that is to say the two lovers--was much alarmed, and so taken by surprise, (for they did not expect this inopportune return) that the poor gentleman could think of nothing else to do than to hide in the privy which was close to the chamber, hoping to escape by some means that his mistress would find before the knight came into the chamber.

It chanced that our knight, who that day had ridden sixteen or eighteen long leagues, was so tired and stiff that he would sup in his chamber, where he had his boots taken off, and would not go to the dining-hall.

You may guess that the poor gentleman paid dear for the pleasure he had had that day, for he was half dead with hunger, cold, and fear; and, to aggravate his misfortune, he was taken with such a horrible cough that it was wonderful that it was not heard in the chamber, where were assembled, the knight, the lady, and the other knights of the household.

The lady, whose eyes and ears were open for any sign of her lover, heard him by chance, and her heart sank within her, for she feared that her husband would hear also. Soon after supper she found an opportunity to go to the privy, and told her lover to take care, for God’s sake, and not cough like that.

“Alas, my dear,” he said, “I cannot help it. God knows how I am punished. And for God’s sake think of some way of getting me out of this.”

“I will,” she said, and with that she went away, and the good squire began his song over again, so loud indeed that he was much afraid he would be heard in the chamber; and might have been had not the lady talked very loudly in order to drown the noise.

When the squire had this fresh attack of coughing, he knew of nothing better to do to prevent being heard than to stuff his head down the hole of the privy, where he was well “incensed”, God knows, by the stuff therein, but he preferred that to being heard. In short, he was there a long time, with his head down the hole, spitting, sniffing, and coughing so much that it seemed as though he would never do anything else.

After this fit finished, the cough left him, and then he tried to draw out his head, but it was not in his power, so far had he pushed his shoulders through, and you may fancy that he was not very comfortable. In short he could not find means to get out, try as he would. He scraped his neck, and nearly pulled his ears off, and in the end, by God’s will, he pulled so hard that he tore away the seat of the privy, which hung round his neck. It was beyond his power to get out of it, but troublesome as it was, he preferred that to his previous position:

His mistress came and found him in that state, and was much astonished. She could not help him, and all the consolation she could give him was to tell him that she could find no means of getting him out of the house.

[Illustration: 72.jpg Necessity is the Mother of Invention.]

“Is that so?” he said. “Morbleu! I am well armed to fight any one, but I must have a sword in my hand.”

He was soon provided with a good one, and the lady, seeing his extraordinary appearance, although her heart was lull of doubt and uncertainty, could not refrain from laughing, and the squire also.

“Now I commend myself to God,” he said. “I am going to try if I can get out of the house; but first black my face well.”

She did so, and recommended him to God, and the poor fellow, with the seat of the privy round his neck, a drawn sword in his hand, and his face blacker than charcoal, sallied out into the room, and by luck the first person he met was the husband, who was in such mortal fear at the sight of him--believing it was the Devil himself--that he tumbled full length on the floor and nearly broke his neck, and was for a long time in a swoon.

His wife, seeing him in this condition, came forward, and pretending to show much more fear than she really felt, supported him in her arms, and asked him what was the matter. As soon as he came to himself, he said in broken accents, and with a piteous air; “Did you see that devil I met.”