The Heptameron (Machen)/Novel 33

When the Count Charles of Angoulême, father to King Francis, and a faithful prince and a God-fearing, was at Cognac, it was told him that in a village hard-by Cherves there lived a maid so austerely that it was matter of admiration, and yet for all that she was big with child. Of this she made no concealment, assuring all people that she had never known a man, and that she knew not how she came to be in such case, save it were the work of the Holy Ghost. And the people readily believed this thing, and among them she was accounted for a second Virgin Mary, since all knew that from her youth up she had been so good and prudent that there never had been displayed in her so much as a sign of worldly lust. Not only did she fast on the days appointed by the Church, but many other days in the week from her own devotion. Whenever there was any service at the church she would never stir from it; wherefore her life was in such repute among the common folk that men came as to a miracle to behold her, and happy was he that could touch her garment. The parson of the parish was her brother, a man in years, and very austere, loved and esteemed by his parishioners as an holy man. And he used such rigorous treatment with his aforesaid sister, that he clapped her up in a house and kept her there, and this was taken of all the people in very bad part, and so great was the noise of it that, as I have told you, it came to the ears of the Count. He, seeing the people to be blinded by some error, and desiring to enlighten them, sent a Master of Requests and an almoner, two exceeding honest men, that they might make discovery of the truth. And they went to the place and informed themselves of the matter with their utmost diligence, addressing themselves to the parson, who, so weary was he of it, prayed them to be with him when he made out the truth, and this he hoped to do on the morrow.

And early in the morning the parson sang mass, his sister being present on her knees, and to say truth mighty big. And at the end of mass, the parson took the Corpus Domini, and ​before all said to his sister: "Wretch that thou art, behold Him who suffered for thee his Death and Passion, before whom I adjure thee, tell me if thou art a maid, the which thou hast oftentimes assured me." She answered boldly that she was. "How then can this thing be, that thou art great with child and still a maid?" She answered him: "I can give no reason, save it be the grace of the Holy Ghost, who doeth in me according to his pleasure; but I cannot deny the grace of God given to me, whereby I am still a maid, and never have I wished to be married." Then her brother said to her: "I give thee the precious Body of Jesus Christ, the which thou wilt take to thy damnation if the truth is other than thou hast said. And of this they who are here present on behalf of my lord and Count are witnesses." The girl, who was nearly thirteen years of age, swore with this oath: "I take the Body of Our Lord here present to my damnation, before you, sirs, and you, my brother, if ever a man has touched me any more than you." So saying she received the Body of Our Lord. The Master of Requests and the almoner, beholding this, went away in confusion, believing that under such an oath there could not be deceit. And they made report of the matter to the Count, being fain that he should believe even as they believed. But he who was a wise man, after having well thought on the matter, made them tell him the very words of the oath. Thereupon he said: "She spoke the truth and so deceived you; for she said that never man had touched her any more than her brother, and I am persuaded that it is her brother that has got the child, and would fain cover his wickedness under this monstrous deceit. But we, believing one Jesus Christ to have come, wait not for another. Wherefore get you gone and clap the parson in gaol, and I am assured he will confess the truth." And the thing was done even as he had commanded, not without remonstrance from many, for that they put that good man to open shame. But so soon as the parson was taken he made confession of his wickedness, and of how he had counselled his sister to talk in the manner she had done, so as to cover the life they had led together, not only because the excuse was an easy one, but that thereby they might have honour of all men. And when his wickedness was laid before him, in that he had taken the very Body of Our Lord for her to swear upon, he replied that he ​had not been so bold, but had taken an unconsecrated and unblessed wafer. The report of this being brought to the Count of Angoulême, he commanded that justice be done upon them after the accustomed manner. So they waited till the girl was brought to bed, and after that she was delivered of a boy the brother and sister were burned alive together, whereat all the people marvelled greatly, who had seen under the cloak of holiness so monstrous a deed, and under so pious and praiseworthy a life a most hateful crime.

"Behold, ladies, the faith of the good Count, that it was not overcome by signs nor wonders, since he knew well that we have but one Saviour, who when he said: Consummatum est, made plain to us that He left no place for a successor who should accomplish our salvation." "I promise you," said Oisille, "this was the extreme of audacious hypocrisy, to cover under the cloak of God and true Christianity so monstrous a sin." "I have heard," said Hircan, "that they who, on pretext of a commission from the King, do cruel deeds and tyrannous, receive a double punishment, for that they have used the kingly justice as a cloak for their own injustice. So the hypocrites, though for a while, beneath the cloak of God and holiness, all goes well with them, yet when the Lord God raises the cloak they are discovered and sent naked away. And in that hour their filthy and abominable nakedness is esteemed more vile, because the covering was so honourable." "There is nothing more pleasant," said Nomerfide, " than to speak out the thoughts of one's heart." "It causes merriment," answered Longarine, "so I suppose you give your opinion from your own habit." "I tell you," said Nomerfide, "that I see fools, unless they die violently, live longer than the wise and prudent, and there can be but one reason, that they do not hide their passion. If they be wrathful they deal out blows, and if they be merry they laugh; but they that deem themselves to be wise so conceal their imperfections that their hearts are all corrupted thereby." "Methinks," said Geburon, "you say well, and that hypocrisy, be it towards God, men, or Nature, is the cause of all evil" "This would be a brave thing," said Parlamente, "if our hearts were so fulfilled of Him who is all virtuousness and all gladness, that we could freely show them to the whole world." "That will be on the day when there is no longer any flesh on ​our bones," said Hircan. "Yet," said Oisille, "the Spirit of God, who is stronger than death, can so mortify our heart within us, without change or decay of the body." "Mistress," said Saffredent, "you speak of a gift of God, scarcely partaken of by men." "'Tis partaken of," said she, "by them that have faith, but since it skills not to speak on this matter to such as are fast bound in carnal bondage, let us know to whom Simontault gives his vote." "I give it," said he, "to Nomerfide, "for as her heart is glad, her words will not be sad." "Truly," said Nomerfide, "since you desire to laugh I will take the occasion. And that you may know how hurtful are fear and ignorance, and that not to understand a word is often a cause of evil, I will tell you of a case that befel two Grey Friars at Nyort, who, through not understanding the words of a butcher, were in fear of death."