Part 31
So she determined to relate the affair to her master, who when he heard of it did nothing but laugh, for he had partly suspected it, having noticed the looks, conversation and little love-tricks that passed between the two. Nevertheless, he ordered the wench to lead the priest on, without, however, granting him her favours; and she did it so well that the priest fell into the trap. The knight used often to say him;
“By God, sir, you are too friendly with my chamber-wench. I do not know what there is between you two, but if it is anything to my prejudice, by Our Lady, I will punish the two of you.”
“In truth, monseigneur,” replied the Dominie. “I do not pretend to expect anything from her. I talk to her to pass the time, as everyone else in the house does, but never in my life would I seek her love, or anything of the kind.”
“Very well,” said the lord, “if it were otherwise I should not be best pleased.”
If the Dominie had importuned her before, he now pursued her more than ever, and wherever he met the wench he pressed her so closely that she was obliged, whether she would or not, to listen to his requests, and, being cunning and deceitful, she so played with the priest and encouraged his love, that for her sake he would have fought Ogier the Dane himself.
As soon as she had left him, the whole conversation that had passed between them was related to her master.
To make the farce more amusing, and to deceive his chaplain, he ordered the girl to appoint a night for him to be in the _ruelle_ of the bed where they slept. She was to say to him. “As soon as monseigneur is asleep, I will do what you want; come quietly into the _ruelle_ of the bed.”
“And you must,” he said, “let him do what he likes, and so will I; and I am sure that when he believes I am asleep, that he will soon have his arms round you, and I will have ready, near your ----, a noose in which he will be nicely caught.”
The wench was very joyful and satisfied with this arrangement, and gave the message to the Dominie, who never in his life had been more delighted, and, without thinking of or imagining peril or danger, entered his master’s chamber, where the wench and his master slept. He cast all sense and decency to the winds, and only thought of satisfying his foolish lust,--albeit it was quite natural.
To cut the story short, Master Priest came at the hour appointed, and crept quietly enough, God knows, into the _ruelle_ of the bed, and his mistress whispered to him;
“Don’t say a word: when monsieur is fast asleep I will touch you, and then come to me.”
“Very good,” he replied.
The good knight, who was not asleep, had a great inclination to laugh, but checked himself, in order not to spoil the joke. As he had proposed and arranged, he spread his noose where he wished, that is to say round the spot where the priest wanted to get.
All being ready, the Dominie was called, and as gently as he could, slipped into the bed, and without more ado, mounted on the heap in order to see the further. (*)
(*) A proverbial expression founded perhaps on some old story which may be alluded to also in the 12th and 82nd stories.
As soon as he was lodged there, the good knight drew the cord tightly, and said aloud,
“Ha! scoundrelly priest, is that the sort of man you are?” The priest tried to run away, but he could not go far, for the instrument he had tried to tune to the girl’s fiddle was caught in the noose, at which he was much frightened, and did not know what had happened to him. His master pulled the cord more tightly, which would have given him great pain if his fear and alarm had not conquered all other sentiments.
In a few moments he came to himself, and felt the pain and cried piteously for mercy to his master, who had such a strong desire to laugh that he could scarcely speak. He pulled the priest into the room and said;
“Get out, and never come here again! I pardon you in this occasion, but the second time I shall be inexorable.”
“Oh, monsieur,” he replied, “I will never do it again. It is all her fault,” and with that he ran away and the knight went to bed again, and finished what the other had begun.
But you must know that never again was the priest found trespassing on his master’s preserves. Perhaps, as a recompense for his misfortunes the girl afterwards took pity on him, and to ease her conscience lent him her fiddle, and he tuned it so well that the master suffered both in goods and honour. But now I will say no more, and end my story.
*****
STORY THE SEVENTY-SEVENTH -- THE SLEEVELESS ROBE.
By Alardin.
_Of a gentleman of Flanders, who went to reside in France, but whilst he was there his mother was very ill in Flanders; and how he often went to visit her believing that she would die, and what he said and how he behaved, as you will hear later._
A gentleman of Flanders had a mother who was very old and much weakened by disease, and more sick and infirm than any woman of her age. Hoping that she would get better, and be cured, he often came to see her, although he resided in France, and each time that he came he found her suffering so much that he thought her soul was about to leave her body.
On one occasion that he came to see her, she said to him at his departure.
“Adieu, my son; I am sure that you will never see me again for I am about to die.”
“Devil take it, mother, you have said that so often that I am sick of it. For three years past you have been repeating that, but you have done nothing of the kind. Choose a day, I beg, and keep to it.”
The good woman, when she heard her son’s reply, smiled, though she was so sick and old, and said farewell.
One year, then two years, passed, and still she lingered on. She was again visited by her son, and one night when he was in bed in her house, and she was so ill that all believed she was about to go to Mortaigne, (*) those who watched her called her son, and told him to come to his mother quickly, for that certainly she was about to die.
(*) Mild puns on the names of places were very common in the Middle Ages.
“Do you say that she is about to die?” he replied. “By my soul, I will not believe it; she always says that, but she never does it.”
“No, no,” said the nurses; “this time it is certain. Come quickly for it is sure that she is dying.”
“Very well, you go first and I will follow you; and tell my mother that if she must go, not to go by Douai, for the road is so bad that I and my horses were nearly swallowed up yesterday.”
Nevertheless he rose, and put on his dressing-gown, and went off to see his mother give her last grin. When he came he found her very ill, for she had been in a swoon which all thought would carry her off, but, thank God, she was now a little better.
“Did I not tell you so?” said this good son. “Every body in this house declares, and she does herself, that she is dying--but nothing comes of it. For God’s sake choose a day--as I have often told you--and see that you keep to it! I am going to return whence I came, and I recommend you not to call me again. If she does die she must die alone, for I will not keep her company.”
Now I must tell you the end of this history. The lady, ill as she was, recovered from this extreme sickness, and lived and languished as before for the space of three years, during which time her good son visited her once, and that was just as she was about to give up the ghost. But when they came to seek him to come to her deathbed, he was trying on a new habit and would not come. Message after message was sent to him, for his good mother, who was nearing her end, wished to recommend her soul to her son’s care,--but to all the messages he replied;
“I am sure there is no hurry: she will wait till my habit is finished.”
At last so many remonstrances were made to him that he went to his mother, wearing a doublet with no sleeves to it, which, when she saw, she asked him where were the sleeves.
“They are within there,--waiting to be finished as soon as you clear out of the place.”
“Then they will be soon finished,” she replied; “for I go to God, to whom I humbly recommend my soul; and to you also, my son.”
Without another word she rendered her soul to God, with the Cross between her arms; on seeing which her good son began to weep so loudly that no one had ever heard the like; he could not be comforted, and at the end of a fortnight he died of grief.
*****
[Illustration: 78.jpg The Husband turned Confessor.]
STORY THE SEVENTY-EIGHTH -- THE HUSBAND TURNED CONFESSOR. [78]
By Jehan Martin.
_Of a married gentleman who made many long voyages, during which time his good and virtuous wife made the acquaintance of three good fellows, as you will hear; and how she confessed her amours to her husband when he returned from his travels, thinking she was confessing to the curé, and how she excused herself, as will appear._
The province of Brabant is a fair and pleasant land, well provided with pretty girls, who are generally clever and good; but as for the men, it is said of them, with a good deal of truth, that the longer they live the greater fools they become.
There was formerly a gentleman of this land who--being thereunto born and destined--travelled much beyond seas to various places, as Cyprus, Rhodes, and the adjacent parts, and at last came to Jerusalem, where he received the order of knighthood.
During the time that he was away, his good wife was not idle, but took her _quoniam_ with three lovers, who like courtiers, each had audience in turn and for a certain time.
First came a gentle squire, fresh and frisky, and in good health, who spent so much upon her, physically and pecuniarily (for in truth she plucked him well) that at last he was sick of it, and left her altogether.
The one who came after him was a knight, and a man of a great reputation, who was very glad to have acquired the succession, and worked her as well as he could, paying his _quibus_ (*), which no one knew better than this lusty wench how to get out of a man. In short, if the squire, who had previously held the position, had been plucked, the knight was not less so, until at last he turned tail, took leave of her, and left the place open to the next comer.
(*) Property or wealth; the expression is still used in familiar conversation.
As a tit-bit to finish with, the damsel made the acquaintance of a rich priest, and although he was cunning enough, and not over liberal with money, he was despoiled of rich gowns, vessels, and other valuables.
Now it happened, thank God, that the husband of the wench let her know that he was coming home; and how he had been made a knight at Jerusalem. His good wife had the house cleaned and prepared as well as possible. Everything was ready for his return, except the lady, and she was somewhat disturbed on account of the vast quantity of booty--tapestry, furniture, vessels, and other valuables--which she had gained upon her back.
When her husband arrived, God knows what a joyful reception he had, especially from the one who cared least about him, that is to say his worthy wife.
I pass over all the welcomings, but her husband, although he was a fool, could not help quickly noticing the heap of furniture, which was not there at his departure. He went to the coffers, the buffets, and a number of other places, and everywhere he found his store increased, and the sight of all this booty filled his mind with evil thoughts, and in a hot temper he called for his wife, and demanded to know whence had come all these goods I have already-named.
“By St. John,” said the lady, “that is a nice question. You have good reason to go on like this and get so warm. To look at you one would think you were cross.”
“I am not in the best of tempers,” he replied; “for I did not leave you so much money that you could have saved enough to buy all these utensils, hangings, and the other things that I find here. I suspect, with good reason, that our household has been increased by some friend of yours during my absence.”
“By God!” replied the lady, “you are wrong to suspect me of such misconduct. I would have you to know that I am not a woman of that kind, but a better wife in every respect than you deserve; and it is not right that after all the trouble I have taken to save and economise to embellish and adorn your house and mine, that I should be reproved and scolded. That is not at all the sort of reward that a good husband should give to a chaste wife such as you have, you wicked wretch. It is a great pity I have not been unfaithful to you, and I would be if I did not value my honour and my soul.”
This quarrel, though it lasted a long while, ceased for a time, for the husband thought of a plan how to find out the truth about his wife. He arranged with the curé, who was a great friend of his, that he should hear her confession, and this he did with the help of the curé, who managed the whole affair, for one morning in Easter week, the curé made the husband put on the priest’s robe, and then sent word to the lady to come and confess.
It need not be asked if the husband was glad when he found himself thus disguised. He went to the chapel, and entered the confessional without saying a word; his wife approached and knelt at his feet, really believing she was confessing to the curé, and said _Benedicite_. To this her husband replied _Dominus_, as the curé had taught him, and whatever else was necessary, as well as he could manage it.
After the good woman had made a general confession, she descended to
## particulars, and told how, during the time that her husband had been
away, a squire had been his deputy, and from him she had acquired much property, in gold, in silver, and in furniture.
God knows that the husband, when he heard this confession did not feel very comfortable; he would willingly have killed her on the spot if he had dared, nevertheless he was patient in order that he might hear the rest.
When she had said all there was to say about the squire, she accused herself of misconduct with the knight, who, like his predecessor, had paid her well. The good husband, nearly bursting with grief, had a good mind to discover himself and give her absolution without more ado, but he did nothing of the kind, and waited to hear what more she would say.
After the knight came the turn of the priest, and at this the good husband lost patience and would hear no more; he threw aside hood and gown, and, showing himself said;
“False and perfidious woman! now I see and know your treason! And would not a squire and a knight suffice you, but you must give yourself up to a priest? This vexes me more than all the other sins you have committed.”
For a moment this brave dame was taken aback, but soon recovered her confidence, and with a face as calm as though she had been the most just and virtuous woman in the world, saying her prayers to God, she replied as calmly as though the Holy Spirit had inspired her,
“Poor fool! why do you thus worry yourself, you know not wherefore? Listen to me, if you please; and be assured that I knew perfectly well that I was confessing to you. I served you as you deserved, and without one word of falsehood confessed to you the real circumstances. These are the facts: you are the squire who slept with me, for when I married you, you were a squire, and did with me as you wished; you are the knight of whom I spoke, for on your return you made me a lady; and you are the priest also, for no one who is not a priest can hear a confession.”
“By my oath, my dear,” he replied, “you have convinced me, and proved to me that you are a virtuous woman and that I was wrong to accuse you. I repent, and ask your pardon, and promise never to suspect you again.”
“I willingly pardon you,” said his wife, “since you confess your fault.”
Thus, as you have heard, was the good knight deceived by the ready wit of his wife.
*****
STORY THE SEVENTY-NINTH -- THE LOST ASS FOUND. [79]
By Michault De Changy.
_Of a good man of Bourbonnais who went to seek the advice of a wise man of that place about an ass that he had lost, and how he believed that he miraculously recovered the said ass, as you will hear hereafter._
In the fair land of Bourbonnais, where many good professions are carried on, there lived, not long ago, a doctor of God knows what sort, for never Hippocrates or Galen practised the science as he did. For instead of syrups, decoctions, electuaries, and the hundred thousand other things that physicians order to preserve the health of man, or restore it if it is lost, this good doctor of whom I am speaking had only one method of procedure, and that was to order clysters. Whatever matter was brought to him, (*) he always exhibited clysters, and generally so well did this remedy turn out that everyone was satisfied with him, and he cured them all, so that his fame spread abroad and increased in such a manner that he was called “Master” Jehan (**) by all, both in the houses of princes and lords, and in the great abbeys, and in the towns, and never was Aristotle or Galen so honoured, especially by the common people, as was our said Master. And his fame so increased that his advice was asked on every subject, and he was so incessantly in demand that he did not know what to do. If a woman had a bad, or whimsical, or capricious husband, she went to this good master for a remedy. In short, if any could give good advice it was thought that our physician was at the top of the tree in that respect, and people came to him from all parts to enquire about lost property.
(*) It was usual to bring the urine of an invalid to the physician.
(**) “Master” was then a title of honour.
It happened one day that a poor foolish countryman had lost his ass, and after seeking for it a long time, he determined to go to the wise man, who when he arrived was so surrounded by people that the countryman could not make himself heard. At last he broke through the crowd, and, in the presence of many persons, related his case, that is to say that he had lost his ass, and asked the doctor to get it back for him.
The master, who was listening to others more than to him, just heard the sound of the words, and thinking he had some infirmity, turned towards him, and in order to get rid of him, said to his servants,
“Give him a clyster!”
The poor man who had lost his ass, did not know what the master had said, but he was seized by the physician’s servants, who led him away and gave him a clyster--at which he was much astonished, for he did not know what it was.
When he had this clyster in his belly, he went away, without saying anything more about his ass, which he fully believed he should recover.
He had not gone far when his belly was so tossed about that he was forced to turn aside into a deserted hut, because of the clyster which demanded to be let out. And when he began, he made such a terrible noise, that his ass, which chanced to be straying near, began to bray, and the good man rose up and cried, _Te Deum laudamus_, and went to his ass, which he believed he had found by means of the clyster which he had had from the Master, who after that had incomparably more renown than ever; for he was looked-upon as the sure finder of all lost goods, and the perfect master of all science, and all this fame sprang from a single clyster.
Thus have you heard how the ass was found by means of a clyster; it is a manifest fact, and one that often happens.
*****
[Illustration: 80.jpg Good Measure!]
STORY THE EIGHTIETH -- GOOD MEASURE! [80]
By Michault De Changy.
_Of a young German girl, aged fifteen or sixteen or thereabouts who was married to a gentle gallant, and who complained that her husband had too small an organ for her liking, because she had seen a young ass of only six months old which had a bigger instrument than her husband, who was 24 or 26 years old._
I have heard it related as true by two noble lords worthy of faith and belief, that in the borders of Germany there lived a young girl, who at the age of about 15 or 16 years was married to a worthy gentleman, who did his best to satisfy the demands which, without saying a word, all girls of that age and condition earnestly ask for. But though the poor man did his duty well, and indeed more often than he should, the performance was never agreeable to his wife, who was always sulky, and often wept as sadly as though all her friends were dead. Her good husband, seeing her thus lament, could not imagine what she could want, and asked her tenderly;
“What is the matter, my dear? Are you not as well clothed, lodged, and served, as people in our position of life can reasonably expect to be?”
“It is not that which vexes me,” she replied.
“Then what can it be?” he asked. “Tell me, and if I can remedy it, I will, at whatever cost to my purse or person.”