The Heptameron (Machen)/Novel 43

In a mighty fine castle there dwelt a great princess, and one possessed of much authority, and she had a lady in her household named Jambicque, the same being very haughty. And this lady had used her mistress in such sort, that she did nothing without taking her counsel on the matter, since she held her for the most prudent and virtuous lady that she knew. And so wrath was this Jambicque against light love, that when she saw any gentleman amorous of one of her fellows, she would reprove them sharply, and give such an account of them to her mistress, that they often were publicly rebuked, wherefore in that household she had a larger share of fear than love. For herself, she spoke to no man, save haughtily and in a loud voice, and in such wise that she was reputed as a mortal enemy to all love, though her secret inclinations were altogether very amorous. For there was a gentleman in the household of her mistress for whom she had so great a desire that she could scarce bear it, but yet her love for her honour and repute made her quite to conceal her liking for him. And when she had endured this passion for a good year, not willing to ease herself, as other lovers do, with looks and words, it kindled such a flame in the heart of her, that she was fain to seek for the last cure for love-sickness, thinking she would do better to satisfy her lust and have God only for a witness, than tell it to any one who might reveal it to all.

And having resolved upon this it fell out that she was in a room that looked upon a terrace, and saw walking thereon him she loved so well, and after gazing on him so long that the day drew to an end and it became dusk, she called to her a little page, and showing him the gentleman, said: "Mark well that man yonder with the doublet of crimson satin and the cloak of lynx-fur. Go tell him that one of his acquaintance would speak with him in the garden gallery." And so soon as the page was gone, she went through the closet of her mistress and came to the gallery, having put on her low hood and her half-mask, and when the gentleman had come, she straightway ​shut the two doors by which they might be taken unawares. And without taking off her mask she threw her arms round him, and spoke as low as she could, saying: "For a long time, sweetheart, my love towards you hath made me desire to find time and place for seeing you, but fear for my honour has been so great that it has constrained me, against my will, to conceal for awhile my passion. But at last the strength of love has overcome fear, and by the knowledge I have of your honour, if you will promise me to love me and to speak of me to no one, nor to inquire who I am, I give you good assurance that I will be your true and faithful mistress, and will never love any other but you. But I had rather die than you should know who I am." The gentleman promised all she asked him, and this easily made her be as civil, that is, not to refuse anything he was fain to take. The hour was between five and six in the winter, so he had no sight at all of her, but touching her dress he found it was of velvet, that in those days was not worn every day, save by ladies of noble and illustrious houses. And as for her underclothing, as far as he could judge by feeling it, all was in good case, neat, and well cared for. So he took pains to give her the best entertainment he was able, and she on her side did no less. And one thing the gentleman perceived very plainly, that she was a married woman.

She would have returned forthwith to the place from whence she came, but he said to her: "I greatly esteem the kindness you have done to me who deserve it not, but still more shall I esteem that I am about to ask of you. So satisfied am I with the favours I have had that I pray you conceive that I hope for a continuance thereof; but in what manner shall I obtain this, since I know not who you are?" "Trouble not yourself," said the lady, "but be assured every evening I will send word to you, but take heed that you be on the terrace where you were before. And if it is told you to be mindful of your promise, understand by that that I am waiting in the gallery, but if the talk is of going to meat, either begone or come into our mistress's room. And above all I desire you never to seek to know me, save you wish our friendship to be broken in twain." So with this the lady and gentleman parted, each on his several way. And for a long time their love passages endured, and he knew not who she was, whereat he fell ​into great pensiveness, musing within himself on the matter, for he surely thought there was no woman in the round world who would not fein be seen as well as loved. And he feared she was an evil spirit, having heard of some senseless preacher that no one can look the devil in the face and love him; and by reason of this fear he resolved to ascertain who it was that entreated him so kindly, and one time she sent for him he took in his hand a piece of chalk, with which, while he threw his arms round her, he made a mark on her back by the shoulder without her perceiving him. No sooner was she departed than the gentleman ran round to the chamber of his mistress and set himself at the door, to look at the shoulders of the ladies who came in. Among the rest he saw Jambicque enter the room, gazing so proudly about her, that he was afraid to look at her like the rest, being quite persuaded that she was not his mistress. But as she turned he saw on her shoulder the mark of his white chalk, whereat he was so astonished that he could scarce trust his eyes. Yet having well regarded her figure, he found it none other than the one he had touched, and in like manner with the face of her, and so of a surety he knew that she it was. And at this he took no small contentment to think that a woman who was reputed never to have had a lover, but rather had refused many an honest gentleman, should have chosen him. But love, that never continueth in one stay, would not let him live thus restfully any longer, and put in him such vain-boasting and idle hope, that he was resolved to make his love known to her, thinking that when she was discovered, her love for him should be all the more increased. And so one day, when the princess was walking in the garden, and Jambicque in an alley by herself, he seeing her alone went up to talk with her, feigning to do so for the first time. "Mistress," said he, "'tis a long while since I have carried my affection for you in my heart, fearing to make it manifest lest it should do you a displeasure; and am come thereby to such a pass that I can keep my pain a secret no longer and still live; for I truly believe man never loved you as do I." Jambicque would not suffer him finish his discourse, but broke in mighty wrathfully: "Have your seeing or hearing ever told you that I had sweetheart or lover! Marry! I think not, and I marvel you dare talk in this fashion to an honest ​woman like me, since this house has held you long enough for you to know that I love my husband and none other, wherefore have done or beware for yourself." The gentleman at this piece of deceit could not refrain from laughing, and said to her: "You are not always so cruel as now, and what profits it to use this concealment? Is not perfect love better than imperfect?" Jambicque replied: "I have no love for you, perfect nor imperfect, save as one of my mistress's servants; but if you cease not this manner of talk, I shall surely have such a hatred for you as will be to your mischief." But the gentleman persisted in his discourse, and said: "And where is the good cheer you make me when I cannot see you? Wherefore do you deprive me of it now when the noonday shows me your beauty and your perfect grace?" Jambicque, with a great sign of the cross, replied to him: "Either you have lost your reason, or you are the greatest of all liars, for never in my life to my knowledge have I made you better or worse cheer than I do now, so prithee tell me what is your intent." Then the poor gentleman, thinking to have the vantage over her, told the place where they had met, and the mark of chalk whereby he knew her; and at this so hot was her anger that she told him he was an evil man, and had contrived this abominable lie against her, for which she would labour to bring him to repentance. He, knowing how well she stood with her mistress, would have appeased her, but to no purpose, for furiously leaving him she went up to the princess, who left all others to talk to Jambicque, since she loved her as herself. And finding her to be so wrathful, she asked the cause of it, which Jambicque, by no means willing to conceal, told, and all the talk of the gentleman, and so little to his advantage that the princess bade him that very evening begone to his house, without speaking to any one, and to stay there till that she sent for him. And this he did in great haste, for fear lest some worse thing should befall him. And so long as Jambicque dwelt with the princess, the gentleman did not return to court, and never heard any more tidings of his mistress, who had so well kept her promise that in the hour in which he sought to find her he should lose her.

"Whereby, ladies, you see how a woman that preferred the glory of the world to her conscience, lost the one and the ​other, for this day is known of all men that she would fain conceal from her lover, and flying the mockery of one, she is mocked of all. Nor can she be excused for that her love proceeded from the simplicity of her heart, the which would be deserving of pity, but she is condemned because she concealed her wickedness under the cloak of honour and glory, and would have God and man esteem her as other than she was. But He that giveth not his glory to another, uncloaked her and gave double shame." "Verily," said Oisille, "her wickedness is beyond excuse. For who shall speak for her, when God, honour, and even love are against her?" "Why," said Hircan, "pleasure and wantonness, the attorneys-general to the ladies." "If we had no other attorneys beside those of yours," said Parlamente, "our cause would be poorly defended, but women who are overcome of pleasure ought no more to be called women but rather men, whose honour takes no hurt by rage and concupiscence. For a man that avenges him on his enemy and puts him to the sword, because he hath given him the lie, is accounted the braver gallant for it; and in like manner when he loves a dozen women over and above his wife. But our honour stands on another bottom, namely, on gentleness, long-suffering, and chastity." "You are speaking only of good women," said Hircan. "Ay," replied Parlamente, "since of the rest I take no note." "If there were no foolish women," said Nomerfide, "they that are fain to be believed of all men would very often be found liars." "I give you my vote, Nomerfide," said Geburon, "and, prithee, forget you are a woman, that we may learn what it is that men accounted truthful tell of the folly of your sex." "Since virtue will have it so, and you give me your vote, I will tell you what I know. I have heard none here, be it man or woman, that has spared to speak evil of the friars, and for the compassion I have for them, I am resolved to speak well of them."