The Heptameron (Machen)/Novel 40

The father of Rolandine, who was entitled the Count of Jossebelin, had several sisters, of whom some were married to exceeding rich men, and the rest were nuns, save one who lived in his house unmarried, though beyond compare she was prettier than all the others. And so well was she beloved of her brother that he preferred before her nor wife nor children. And she was asked in marriage by many of good estate; but her brother, for fear of the separation, and loving too well his money, would not listen to them. So she passed some time without being wed, living virtuously in her brother's house. Now there lived there also a young and comely gentleman, who having been brought up by the Count from his childhood, so grew in comely stature and virtuousness of living, that he bore a peaceful rule over his master, in such sort that when he had any charges for his sister, it was ever the young gentleman that gave them. And with such familiarity did the Count use him that evening and morning would he send him to his sister, so that by this frequent converse together a great love was engendered between them. But since he feared for his life if he should haply offend his master, and she had no less fear for her honour, they had in this love of theirs none other contentment save words only. And the lord of Jossebelin would often say to his sister that he wished the gentleman was richer, and of as good a house as she, for he knew no man he would have liked better for his brother-in-law. So many times did he say this, that the lovers, having taken counsel together, judged that if they were to wed he would readily pardon them. And Love, that easily believes what it wishes, made them to suppose that nothing but good could come of it; and so on this hope their ​marriage was solemnised and consummated, and none knew thereof but a priest and certain women.

And after that they had lived for some years in the delight that a married pair can have together, as one of the bravest in all Christendom, and bound by the greatest and most perfect love, Fortune, that hated to see two persons so much at their ease, stirred up an enemy against them, who spying out the lady, perceived her great happiness in her husband, but yet knew not that they were married. And this man came to the lord of Jossebelin, saying that the gentleman in whom he had so great trust went too much into his sister's room, and at hours in the night when it was not meet for men to enter therein. And this the Count at the first would not believe, for the trust he had in his sister and the gentleman; but the enemy, as one who loved the honour of his house, so many times repeated it, that at last a watch was put, and so shrewd a one that the poor folk, suspecting nothing, were surprised. For one evening the lord of Jossebelin was advertised that the gentleman was in his sister's room, and presently going thither he found them, blinded by their love, in bed together. Wrath took away speech, and drawing his sword he ran at the gentleman. But he, being agile in body, fled from him in his shirt, and not able to escape by the door let himself down by a window into the garden. The poor lady threw herself on her knees before her brother, and said to him: "O sir, save my husband's life, for indeed I have wed him, and if there be any fault punish me alone, for he married me at my desire." Her brother, beside himself with wrath, only replied to her: "If he be a hundred times your husband, yet will I punish him as a wicked servant who hath deceived me." So saying he set himself at the window and cried with a loud voice to kill him, and so it was done straightway by his command and before the eyes of him and his sister. But she, beholding this piteous sight, and knowing that prayers were of no avail, spoke to her brother as a mad woman, saying: "Brother, I have nor father nor mother, and am come to an age at which I can marry according to my pleasure, and so chose one whom oftentimes you have said you were fain had been my husband. And for that I did by your counsel a thing I could by the law have done without your consent, you have made kill the man for whom you had a ​great liking. And since no prayers of mine could prevent his death, I entreat you by all your love towards me to make me in this hour a fellow with him in death, as I have been in all his other chances. And so you will both satisfy your cruel and unjust anger, and give rest to the body and soul of her who nor can nor will live without him." Her brother, though he was in such a rage as almost took away his reason, yet had such pity on his sister that, without granting or refusing her prayer, he left her. And after that he had well considered the deed he had done, and understood that the gentleman had married his sister, he would have been heartily glad not to have committed such a crime. But for the fear he had lest his sister should demand vengeance and justice on him, he made build for her a castle in the midst of a forest, whither he placed her, and forbade any to speak with her.

And after some time, to satisfy his conscience, he essayed to win her back to him, and made some talk about marriage; but she sent word to him that he had given her so ill a breakfast that she wished not to sup off the same meat, and that she had a good hope to live in such wise that he would have no second husband of hers to put to death, and that she hardly thought he would forgive another, since he had used so evilly the man for whom he had such a liking. And though she was weak, and had not the power to avenge herself on him, yet she trusted in Him who is the true judge and suffers no evil deed to go unpunished. And with His love alone she intended to pass the remainder of her days in her retreat. This she did, and stirred not from the place till her death, living in such patience and austerity that men came from all parts to her sepulchre as to that of a saint. And from the time she died her brother's house came to such a ruinous condition that of six sons he had not one that was left alive, for they all perished miserably; and at last the heritage passed, as you have heard in another tale, to his daughter Rolandine, who was kept in the prison that was made for her aunt.

"I pray God, ladies, that this ensample be so profitable to you that none amongst you shall have any desire to be married for her own pleasure without the consent of them to whom obedience is due; for matrimony is so long-lasting an estate that one ought not lightly to enter upon it, nor without the ​advice of our best friends and kinsfolk. And do as well as you may, there will be no less pain in it than pleasure." "In good faith," said Oisille, "were there no God nor law to teach maids to be prudent, this example would suffice to make them take more heed to their kin and not marry at their own pleasure." "Yet," said Nomerfide, "she who has one good day in the year is not unhappy all her life. She had the pleasure of seeing and speaking for a long while with him whom she loved better than herself, nay more, she enjoyed him as her husband without scruple or stain on her conscience. So great do I esteem this contentment that I believe it surpassed all the sorrow that she bore." "You will have it, then," said Saffredent, "that women have more pleasure to lie with a man than pain to see him killed before their eyes?" "Not so," answered Nomerfide, "for then I should speak against the experience I have had of women; but I mean that an unwonted pleasure, such as to marry the man we love best of all, should be greater than the pain of losing him by death, for death is a thing common enough." "Ay," said Geburon, "natural death; but this was over cruel. And it seems to me a strange matter, for he was neither her father nor her husband, but only her brother, and she was of an age lawfully to marry whom she would. How then durst he do this cruel deed?" "I find it no strange matter," said Hircan, "for his sister, whom he loved and who was beyond his power, he did not kill, but only the gentleman whom he had brought up as his son and loved as his brother, and after having given him honour and wealth in his service, he took his sister in marriage, the which by no means did appertain to him." "Likewise," said Nomerfide, "'twas no common nor wonted pleasure for a lady of a noble house to marry one of her gentleman servants for love. If the death was strange, so also was the delight, since it had against it the opinion of all wise men, and for it the contentment of a heart full of love, and a restful soul, since God was by no means offended at it. And as to the death which you call cruel, methinks, since we must all die, the shortest death is the sweetest, for we know that it is a way we all must go. And I deem happy them that stay no long while before the gates thereof, and who from that we call happiness in this world, fly without delay to the true happiness that endureth for ever." "What call you the gates of death?" said ​Simontault. "They that are troubled in spirit," answered Nomerfide; "they that are for a long while sick, and from the extremity of suffering in mind and body, find death come too slowly; these, I say, tarry at the gates of death and shall tell you the resting-places, where is less rest than lamentation. This lady must have lost her hushand by death, but, through the wrath of her brother, she was saved from seeing him a long time sick or weary of life. And she, converting the joy she had with him to the service of our Lord, could well count herself happy." "Is this nothing," said Longarine, "that she was shamefully imprisoned?" "I suppose," said Nomerfide, "that one who loves with a perfect love and in obedience to God's commandment knows not shame nor dishonour, save when it lessens or diminishes the perfection of her love. For the glory of true love knows no shame; and as to the imprisoning of her body, I believe that since her heart was at large, joined to God and her husband, she made no account of it, but thought her loneliness great freedom. For inasmuch as she saw not what she loved she could have nought better than to think upon these without ceasing, and stone walls are not too narrow, when thought can pass through them at its pleasure." "The words of Nomerfide are true altogether," said Simontault, "but he who did this thing in his madness would well be called unhappy, insomuch as he offended God, love, and honour." "In good faith," said Geburon, "I marvel that the love of woman is so various a thing, and plainly see that the more virtuousness the more love, but those who have less love, wishing to appear virtuous, simulate it." "It is true," said Parlamente, "that a heart, honouring God and man, loves more than one that is vicious, and fears not to be seen to the very bottom." "I have ever heard," said Simontault, "that men are not to be reproved for seeking the love of women, since God hath put into their hearts the love and boldness to ask; and in the hearts of women He hath put the fear and the chastity to refuse. So if a man use the powers given him and be. punished, a wrong hath been done him," "But this was a hard matter," said Longarine, "that he had a long time praised him to his sister. Methinks his brainsick cruelty is like unto a man that kept a fountain, and praised the beauty of the water to one who while he looked on it fainted with thirst. But when the thirsty ​soul would fain have tasted the water, the keeper killed him." "Truly," said Parlamente, "by, the sweetness of his words he kindled a flame that he should by no means have put out with the sword." "I marvel," said Simontault, "that it was taken ill for a simple gentleman, using no force or pretence, to take to wife a woman of a noble house, since the philosophers consider the least of men to be more worth than the mightiest and most virtuous woman in the world." "To the intent that the Commonwealth should be ordered peacefully," said Dagoucin; "for this reason, they take account alone of the rank of the families, the age of the parties, and the ordinances of the laws, without weighing the love or the virtue of men, and all this lest things be turned upside down. Whence it comes that in marriages made between equals, according to the judgment of kinsfolk and all men, man and wife are often so diverse in heart, complexion, and disposition, that in place of entering upon an estate leading to salvation, they journey to the by-ways that are about Hell." "Also," said Geburon, "it has come to pass that they who married for love, without regard to rank or lineage, having like hearts, complexions, and dispositions, have nevertheless repented them of their folly. For a great love that knows no reason turns often to brainsick jealousy." "It seems to me," said Parlamente, "that neither the one way nor the other is praiseworthy; but that folk should submit themselves to the will of God without regard to rank, or riches, or pleasure; but loving with a virtuous love, and with the goodwill of their kinsfolk, they should desire to live in the estate of marriage as God and nature have ordained. And though in this life there be no estate but has its tribulation, yet have I seen these last spend their days without regret; and we married folk here present are not so unhappy that some of us are not in this number." Forthwith Hircan, Geburon, Simontault, and Saffredent swore that they had married after this sort, and had never repented thereof; and whatsoever of truth there was in it, their wives were so content thereat, that thinking they could hear nothing more to their taste, they went to the church to give, thanks to God on that account, and found there the monks ready to sing evensong. Service ended, they went to supper, not without much talk of their marriages, the which lasted all the evening, as they told the changes and chances that befel ​them while they courted their wives. But though these stories were no less pleasant than those in the meadow, they cannot be set down at length, insomuch as one would break into the speech of another. So great delight did they take therein that bedtime came before they were ware of it. Mistress Oisille made the company separate, and so joyously did they go to bed, that I believe the married folk slept no longer than the rest, telling again of their loves that were overpast, and giving evident proof to one another of their present affection. And in such pleasant sort was passed the night, even until the morning.