The Heptameron (Machen)/Novel 14

In the Duchy of Milan, while the grand-master of Chaumont was governor, there lived a gentleman named Bonnivet, who afterwards, for his merits, was made Admiral of France. Being mightily beloved by the aforesaid grand-master and all others for the virtues that were in him, he was often found at those assemblies where ladies were gathered together, and was by them more beloved than ever a Frenchman before, as much for his fair speech, his grace, and his beauty as for the renown in which he was held as one of the most brave and excellent warriors of his time. One day, at a masked ball during the Carnival season, he led out in the dance the prettiest woman in all Milan, and whensoever there fell a pause in the music he failed not to make love to her, which it was confessed he knew as well as any how to do. But she, who had no reply to his liking, brought him to a halt by saying she neither loved nor would love any but her husband, and, to be short, she would have nothing to say to him. For all this the gentleman would not hold himself beaten, and plied her vigorously up to Mothering Sunday. Notwithstanding his resolution, he still found her steadfast in her determination neither to love him nor anyone else, but to this he gave small credit, inasmuch as her husband was ill-favoured and she exceeding beautiful. So he was resolved, as she had used concealment, himself to use cozenage, and from that time he left off entreating her, and betook himself so well to making inquiries as to her manner of ​living that he found she loved an Italian gentleman, who was reported both prudent and honourable.

So my lord Bonnivet little by little became of this Italian's fellowship, and so pleasantly and craftily that the Italian did not perceive his intent, but liked him so well that he only came after his mistress. And Bonnivet, to arrest from him his secret, feigned to tell him his own—namely, that he loved a certain lady, of whom in truth he had no thoughts, praying him not to reveal it, so that they might only have one heart and one mind between them. And the poor gentleman, in return for this great love, made a long declaration of that he bore the lady on whom Bonnivet was fain to be avenged; and once in each day they met at a certain place to tell one another what luck they had had with their ladies, one telling lies and the other the truth. And the gentleman confessed to have loved his mistress for three years, without having had anything of her but fair words and assurance of her love towards him. Whereupon my lord Bonnivet showed him the means that might avail to accomplish his end, which he found so much to the purpose that in a few days she was ready to grant him whatsoever he might desire, and all to seek was the way to bring matters to a conclusion, and this, by the help of Bonnivet, was soon found. So one day before supper the gentleman said to him: "Sir, I am more beholden to you than all other men, for by your good counsel I hope to have that to-night which I have desired for so many years." "I pray you then," said Bonnivet, "tell me the manner of it, that I may see whether there is any cozenage or risk, and serve you as a friend." The gentleman told him that his mistress had found means to leave the chief door of the house open, under pretext of an illness of one of her brothers, which made it needful to send to the town on occasions at all hours, and so he might easily enter the court, but was by no means to mount by the great stair, rather making his way by a small one to the right hand, and thence entering into the first gallery he came to where were the rooms of her father-in-law and her brothers-in-law. He was to make for the third door from the top of the stairs, and if softly pushing it he found it shut, he must get him gone and know for certain that her husband was returned, though she expected him not for two days; but if he found it open he was to gently enter, ​and shutting the door behind him to bolt it hard and fast. And above all he was not to forget to wear felt slippers for fear of making a noise, and to come not earlier than two hours after midnight, since her brother-in-law, being very fond of cards, never went to bed before one. To all this Bonnivet said: "Well done, my friend, may you have .good hap and meet with no mischance, and if my fellowship will avail you anything, I will spare nothing in my power." The gentleman gave him his best thanks, but said that in a matter of this sort one could not be too much alone, and went to take order therein.

On his side my lord Bonnivet did by no means sleep, and perceiving that the hour was come for him to be avenged on this cruel lady, he went early to his lodging, and had his beard cut to the length and breadth of the gentleman's, and in like manner his hair, that when she touched him she might not know the difference. Nor did he forget the felt slippers, and, to be short, had all his dress after the fashion of the Italian's. And since he was among the familiar acquaintances of the stepfather he was not afraid of going early to the house, thinking, if he were perceived, to go straight to the good man's chamber on some affair they had together. So at midnight he entered the lady's house, and found much folk both coming and going, but passed among them unknown and got into the gallery. And on touching the two first doors he found them fast, but the third was open. And when he was in the room he bolted the door behind him, and beheld all the room to be hung with white, and the ceiling and the floor after the same manner, and in it there was a bed with a curtain most admirably worked in white. And on the bed was the lady in her nightcap and shift covered with pearls and precious stones; this he saw through a corner of the curtain without her seeing him, for there was in the room a great candle of refined wax, which made it as light as the day. And for fear of being known of her, he first blew out the candle, then doffed his clothes and got into bed beside her. She, believing him to be the man who had loved her so long, made for him the best cheer that she could, but he, knowing it was for another, would not say so much as a single word, and had no thoughts save of putting his vengeance into execution, that is to say, of taking away her honour and chastity without her will and favour. But she ​held herself so content with this vengeance of his that she thought she had made him a full return for all his services, till at last the clock struck one, and it was time to bid farewell. Whereupon in as low a voice as he was able he asked her whether she was as pleased with him as he with her. She, thinking him to be her lover, said that not only was she pleased but mightily astonished at the greatness of his love, which had prevented him for a whole hour from replying to her. At this he burst into a loud laugh, and said to her: "Will you then indeed refuse me another time, as has been your custom up to now?" She, knowing him by his speech and laughter, was made so desperate with grief and shame that a thousand times she called him villain, traitor, deceiver, and would have sprung from the bed to look for a knife that she might kill him, since it had been her fortune to lose her honour for a man who loved her not, and who, to make perfect his vengeance, might blaze abroad the whole matter. But holding her back with his arms he spoke to her gently, and assured her that he loved her better than the Italian, and that he would so conceal her dishonour that she would take no hurt thereby. All this the poor fool believed, and hearing from him how he had found out his scheme, and the pains he had taken to win her, swore to him that she loved him better than the man who could not keep her secret, and that she was now well persuaded that the common report as touching the French was false, since they were more wise, secret, and persevering than the Italians. Wherefore from henceforth she would forget the opinion her countrymen had of the French, and cleave to him. But she entreated him not to be present for some time at any assembly where she was save it was masked, for she knew well she should be so ashamed that her face would discover her to all men. To this he consented, and asked her, when her sweetheart came at two o'clock, to make good cheer for him also, but after this little by little to separate herself from him. At this she made so great difficulty that, had it not been for the love she bore him, she would never have granted it. And in bidding her farewell, he gave her such good matter of satisfaction that she heartily wished he could stay longer.

After he was arisen and had put on his clothes he went from the room, leaving the door as he had found it. And since it ​was hard on two o'clock, and he feared to meet the Italian on the way, he hid himself near the top of the stair, and soon after saw him pass by and go into the lady's room. Then he went home to his lodging to rest from his travail, which he did in such sort that nine o'clock in the morning found him still in bed. And while he was rising the Italian failed not to come and tell him his luck, though it was not of the kind he had hoped for. He said that when he entered the lady's room he found her out of bed in her dressing-gown and in a high fever, her pulse beating quick and fast, her face afire, and the sweat beginning to run adown it. In such case was she that she was fain for him straightway to begone, since she had more occasion to think of God than Cupid, telling him she was sorry he had run this risk, since she could not give him what he wanted in a world from which she thought soon to depart. At all this he was so astounded and grieved that his joyful heat was changed to most mournful ice, and he presently left her. And while he made this relation so bitterly did he weep that it seemed as if his soul would shortly follow his tears. Bonnivet, who was as fain to laugh as the other to weep, consoled him as well as might be, telling him that these long-lasting love affairs had always a difficult beginning, and that Love made this delay to the end that the enjoyment of her should be greater, and with this they parted. As for the lady she kept her bed some days, and when health was restored to her, gave her first lover his dismissal, founding it on her remorse and fear of death. But she kept in her favour Bonnivet, whose love lasted, as it was wont, as long as the flowers of the field.

"It seems to me, ladies, that the craft of the gentleman was well matched with the hypocrisy of the lady who, after having counterfeited the honest woman, showed herself what she was." "You may say what you will," said Ennasuitte, "but the gentleman did her an evil turn. If a lady loves one man, should another have her by craft?" "Trust me," answered Geburon, "such commodities, when for sale, are bought in by the best and last bidders. Do not think that lovers take so much trouble for love of their mistresses, for it is only for love of themselves and their own pleasure." "By my faith," said Longarine, " I believe you, for to speak the plain truth, all the lovers I have ever had made me, my life, my good, my honour, ​the first heads of their discourse, but 'finally,' and 'to conclude,' were themselves, their pleasure, their renown. Wherefore the best plan is to put a close to the first part of the sermon, for when one comes to the second there is not so much honour to be gained, since it goes without saying that vice is to be met with a refusal." "One must needs then," said Ennasuitte, "refuse a man the moment he opens his mouth without knowing what he would say." To this replied Parlamente: "This was not her intent, for we are well assured that at the beginning a woman ought not to make any sign that she understands whither the man is going, nor should she seem to be able to believe him when he tells her, but when it comes to oaths and the like, I think that it is best for us to leave them on this brave road, without descending to the valley below." "But ought we," said Nomerfide, "to believe this of them, that their love is lust? Is it not a sin to judge one's neighbour?" You may believe what you please," replied Oisille, "but there is such strong matter of suspicion that it is so, that when you perceive the least spark of this fire you should run from it, since it has burnt up many a heart that thought not of danger near." "Truly," said Hircan, "these your laws are too hard, and scarcely to be borne. And if women, to whom gentleness is so befitting, were to follow your advice, we too should make a change, and for soft entreaty you would have craft and main force." "Let each one follow his complexion," said Simontault, "that seems to me the best; let him love or not love, as he will, but let there be no deceit." "Would to God," answered Saffredent, "that this law of yours would be as much to the advantage of honour as pleasure." But Dagoucin could not refrain from saying: "They who would rather die than make manifest their hearts could by no means observe your obedience." "Die!" said Hircan, "is there any such thing as an honest gentleman who, for a matter of so small account, would think of death? But let us no more talk of impossible things, and rather hear to whom Simontault will give his vote." "I give it," said he, "to Longarine, for I have been looking at her a long while, and she is still talking to herself, so I think that she has some good relation, and it is not her manner to conceal the truth, be it against man or woman." "Since you deem me so truthful," said Longarine, "I will tell you a story ​from which, though it be not so much to the praise of women as I could desire, you shall see that in them there are as bold hearts as keen wits, and as crafty devisings as in men. And if my tale be long, I entreat you bear patiently with me."