The Heptameron (Machen)/Novel 44

There came a Grey Friar to my lady of Sedan, who was of the house and lineage of Crouy, asking of her a pig, which every year she gave them for an alms. My lord of Sedan, who

CINQUIÈME JOURNÉE
Nouvelle XLIV^e ​was a wise man and of a pleasant speech, made the good father to eat at their table, and amongst other talk said to him, to put him in the lists: "You do well, father, to ask for alms, while you are yet unknown; for I greatly fear, when once your hypocrisy is discovered, you will eat no longer the bread of the poor children that the sweat of the father's brow hath gained them." The friar was in no wise taken aback by this, but replied: "My lord, our Order is on such a sure foundation, that while the world remains it will endure; for this foundation will never fail while man and woman inhabit the earth." My lord of Sedan was very desirous to know what was this foundation, and earnestly prayed the friar to tell him, who after many excuses at last said: "Since you are pleased to command me to tell you, you shall know that our Order is bottomed upon the foolishness of women, and as long as the world hold a silly woman or a foolish, we shall not die of hunger." My lady of Sedan, being of a choleric complexion, at the hearing of this grew so wrath, that had her husband not been there, she would have done the friar a hurt, and swore a great oath that he should not have the pig she had promised him; but my lord of Sedan, for that the friar had not concealed the truth, swore he should have two pigs, and made take them to his monastery.

"So it was, ladies, that the friar, being sure the benefits of the ladies would never fail him, found means by concealing nothing of the truth, to have the favour and the alms of men; if he had been a flatterer and dissembler he would have been more agreeable to the ladies, but not so profitable to himself and his brethren." The novel was not brought to an end without much laughter from all the company, and most of all from them that knew the lord and lady of Sedan. And Hircan said: "The friars then should by no means endeavour by their preaching to make the women wise, seeing that their foolishness doth so much profit them.", And Parlamente said: "They do not by their preaching endeavour to make women wise, but to make them think themselves wise; for they that are altogether foolish and worldly give them no great alms, but they who for that they often go to the monastery church, and carry with them paternosters marked with deathsheads, and wear their hoods lower than other women, think to be esteemed wise, but are in truth foolish. For they ground their salvation ​on the confidence they have in these sons of iniquity, whom for their outward appearance they think to be well nigh gods." "But how shall we not believe on them," said Ennasuitte, "being that they are ordained of our prelates to preach the Gospel to us, and to reprove us of our vices?" "Because," said Parlamente, "we have discovered their hypocrisy, and know the diversity between the teaching of God and the teaching of the devil." "Jesus!" said Ennasuitte, "do you think that they would dare to preach bad doctrine?" "Think, say you?" said Parlamente, "nay, I am assured that they believe nothing less than the Gospel; I speak of the bad amongst them, for I have known many an honest friar who preached the word in all purity and simplicity, and lived without scandal, ambition, or covetousness, and with a pure and chaste heart, neither feigned nor constrained. But with such good stones as these the streets are not paved—nay, rather for the most part with the contrary thereto; and the good tree beareth good fruit." "I thought of a surety," said Ennasuitte, "that we were bound, under pain of mortal sin, to believe whatsoever they told us sitting in the chair of truth; that is, when they preached only what is in the Scripture, or in the comments of the holy doctors of the Church." "For my part," said Parlamente, "I cannot be ignorant that there have been amongst them men of very bad faith, and notably one Colimant, a brother of the Order, and a doctor in theology, and a preacher of great repute, was fain to persuade some of the brethren that the Gospel is not more worthy of belief than Cæsar his Commentaries, or any other authentic history, and from that hour I have not placed my trust in the words of any of their preachers, if I found it not conformable to the word of God, which is the true touchstone whereby we can know truth from lies." "Be assured," said Oisille, "that they who often humbly read therein will never be deceived by fables devised of men, for he that hath a mind filled with all truth can by no means receive a lie." "Yet," said Simontault, "methinks one of simple mind is more easy to be cozened than another." "Ay," said Longarine, "if you account foolishness simplicity." "I tell you," replied Simontault, "that a good woman, mild and simple, is more easy to be cozened than a crafty and malicious." "I am persuaded," said Nomerfide, "that you know a woman ​too full of this same goodness, wherefore I give you my vote that you may tell of her." "Since you have guessed so well," said Simontault, "I will relate the matter, to you, but so that you promise me not to weep thereat. They that declare, ladies, that your craftiness is greater than men's, would have much ado to bring forward my tale to support their position; since in it I will tell you of the great cunning of a husband, and also of the simpleness and goodness of his wife."

In the town of Paris there lived two citizens of ordinary condition, one of whom was in the employ of the state, and the other a silk mercer. And these two were ancient friends and affectionate, so that they would often go to one another's houses, whereby the son of the former, named Jaques, a young man of a good address, was enabled frequently to go to the mercer's, and the cause of his going was the great love he bore to Frances, the mercer's daughter. And so well did he do his suit to her that he found her to be no less loving than beloved; but in the midst of these passages the army was sent into Provence against Charles of Austria, and Jaques being called out was compelled to go with it. And at the very beginning of the campaign his father departed this life, the tidings whereof gave him double sorrow, both for the loss of his father and for the difficulty he should have to see his well-beloved on his coming home. Natheless, as time went on the one sorrow was forgotten and the other increased, since death is but a natural thing, for the most part falling to the father before the children, and so the sadness for it little by little glides away. But love, in place of bringing us death, brings us life by the procreation of offspring which in a manner make us to live for ever, and this it is that causeth our desires to grow and increase. So that Jaques, when he was come back to Paris, thought of nothing else but in what manner he might frequently go to the mercer's, and there, under pretext of mere friendship, traffic in his dearest commodity. And on the other hand, ​while he was away, Frances had been eagerly sought in other quarters, as much for her comeliness as her ready wit; but though she was a long while since marriageable, yet her father would not do his part in the matter, either for his covetousness or for his great desire of putting her in a good estate in life, a£ his only daughter. And this was by no means of advantage to her honour, for now-a-days men do take occasion of scandal a long while before it is given, notably in anything that concerns the virtue of a comely wench or a woman. And her father was nor blind nor deaf to the gossip that was commonly noised abroad, not wishing to be like them that, in place of reproving the faults of their wives and daughters, do rather seem to incite them thereto; for he kept Frances so straitly that even they who would see her as to marriage had but few opportunities, and always her mother was present with them. It skills not asking whether this was hard to be borne by Jaques or no, and he fell into a hesitancy between jealousy and love, not being able to believe that they would keep her so straitly without some grave cause. But at last he was determined to know the reason of it, be the hazard as it might; but in the first place, that he might discover whether her affection was unchanged towards him, he took such order that one morning he heard mass kneeling beside her, and perceived by the manner of her countenance that she was not less glad to see him than he to see her. So, knowing her mother to be less severe than her father, he plucked up courage to accost them as they went from their lodging to the church, familiarly and as a friend might. And in appearance it was altogether a chance meeting, but in truth done by him of express design and so as to reach his ends. To be short, as the year of mourning for his father drew to an end, he resolved, when he put off his blacks, to go more like himself and be an honour to his forefathers. This he told his mother, who found his intent a good one, and much wished to see him well married, since she had only one child beside him, a daughter already honourably bestowed in wedlock. And so, like the good dame she was, she stirred up still more a love of virtue in him, by an infinity of examples drawn from the young men of his own age who were advancing themselves in life, or at least showed themselves worthy of the houses whence they came. Nothing remained but to consult ​where they should get their gear. But his mother said: "I am of opinion, Jaques, that we should go to old Pierre's (now he was the father of Frances), for since he is of our acquaintance he will not cozen us." His mother tickled him in the place he itched, natheless he withstood her, saying: "We will go where we can get the best gear at the lowest cost. But since we know old Pierre, I am content that we go there first." So one morning mother and son went to see Pierre, who gave them a hearty welcome, as you know a merchant will do when profit seems at hand. Then they made him bring forth great piles of silk of all sorts, and chose therefrom what they wanted. But as to the price they could not agree, for Jaques of design beat the merchant down, because he did not see his sweetheart's mother; and so at last they went elsewhere to see if the merchandise was better and of a lower price. Yet could Jaques find no silk so brave as that where Frances lived, and thither, having returned some time after, they found the dame, who likewise welcomed them very heartily. And after the things having been said and done which are accustomed to be done in such shops, Jaques said to the wife, who drove a harder bargain than her husband: "Verily, mistress, you are very severe with us, but since we have lost the father we are known of none." So saying, he made pretence to weep and wipe his eyes at the remembrance of his father, but it was for the better accomplishing of his designs. His good mother, taking his speech in good faith, said likewise: "Since his death we are no more visited than if we had never been known. In such account are poor widows held!" Then they made new engagements of friendship, and promised to visit one another more often than ever; and while they were amid these passages there came in other merchants, whom the master himself took to the back of his shop. And the young man, perceiving his time was come, said to his mother: "I have often seen the good lady here go on feast days to visit the holy places hard-by our quarter; if sometimes she would deign in passing to take a cup of wine with us she would do us pleasure and honour." The merchant's wife, who in this saw no harm, answered that for the last fortnight or more it had been her intent to go to their quarter; and if it were fine on the next Sunday she would go thither, and not fail to revisit them on her way. This business brought ​to an end, so also was that of the silk, since for a little money it would not profit to let so brave an opportunity go by. So the agreement made, and the merchandise carried away, Jaques knowing that he could not all alone bring to an end this undertaking, was constrained to declare it to a faithful friend named Olivier, and they took such counsel together that it only remained to put the design into execution. And when the Sunday was come the mercer's wife and his daughter failed not, as they returned from service, to enter the widow's house, where they found her talking with a neighbour in a gallery overlooking the garden, and her daughter walking beneath with Jaques and Olivier. And as soon as Jaques saw his sweetheart he so ordered himself that he met her and her mother without any change in the manner of his countenance; and since the old are wont to seek out the old, the three dames sat together on a bench with their backs to the garden, into which by steps at a time the two lovers entered, walking to the place where were the two others. And after some pleasant things had passed between them they fell again to walking, and so well did the young man declare his pitiful case to Frances that she durst not grant and could not refuse what her lover asked of her, in such sort that he knew she likewise was sore touched at heart. But I would have you understand that while they talked they continually passed and repassed in front of the arbour where the good dames were seated, speaking the while on ordinary matters so as to take away all suspicion, and now and again running in sport hither and thither about the garden. And when in the space of half an hour the dames were well accustomed to all this, Jaques made the appointed sign to Olivier, who so disposed his person in front of the girl he had with him that she did not perceive the two lovers going into a cherry-close shut in by a hedge of rose trees and tall gooseberry bushes; thither they made pretence of going to gather almonds from a tree in the corner of the close, but their intent was to gather plums. So Jaques, instead of giving his sweetheart a green gown gave her a red one, so that the colour came to her face at being thus taken unawares a little before she had expected. And since these plums of theirs were ripe, so quick were they to gather them that Olivier himself would scarce have believed the thing done, had he not seen the girl hanging ​down her head and showing a shame-faced countenance. And this made him to know the truth, since before she had carried her head aloft, as one who fears not lest the vein in the eye (which should be red in maids) had taken a blue colour. But when Jaques perceived this he brought her back by remonstrances proper to the occasion to her accustomed address. Natheless, as they took two or three turns round the garden, the girl ceased not to sigh and weep, and to say ofttimes: "Alas! and was it for this that you loved me? O my God, what shall I do? For the rest of my days I am as one that is lost! In what esteem henceforth will you have me? I am assured that you will no more make any account of me, at least if you are amongst them that love only for their pleasure. Alas! would that I had been dead before I fell into this sin!" Now all this was not without much weeping, but such good matter of consolation did Jaques give her, with so many oaths and promises, that when they had accomplished three more turns of the garden, Jaques again gave the signal to his comrade, and they again entered the close by another path. Whereupon, do what she would, she found her second red gown still more to her pleasure than the first; and from this time so well did she like them that they took counsel together as to how they should see one another more often and more at their ease, until her father was minded to give his consent. And in the gaining of this a young woman, neighbour to old Pierre and very far akin to Jaques, and a great friend of Frances, was of notable aid to them. And so they continued without open shame (or so it was told me) till the consummation of the marriage, when for a mercer's daughter she was found to be very rich. True it is that Jaques waited for the better part of his worldly gear till the decease of the father, for so grasping was he that it seemed to him that the one hand would rob him of what he held in the other,

"Consider, ladies, a love affair well begun, better carried on, and best of all finished; for though 'tis common amongst you men to despise a girl or woman after she has freely given you that you seek most from her; yet this young man, filled with a good and sincere love, and having found in his sweetheart what every husband desires in his wife; and knowing her to be of good family and prudent, save as to the sin which he ​himself had made her to commit, would not be an adulterer or make an evil marriage with some other woman; wherefore I deem him worthy of all praise." "Yet," said Oisille, "they were both to blame, and the third also, who aided, or at the least, consented to the rape." "Do you call that a rape," said Saffredent, "when the two parties were agreed together? Or does any more perfect marriage than this come of such light love? Wherefore we say in the proverb that marriages are made in heaven. But surely not forced marriages, nor bought marriages, nor those that are held as well approved when the father and mother have given their consent." "Say what you will," said Oisille, "it is necessary that we should allow obedience to be due to father and mother, and in default of these, to other kinsfolk. For if every lad and lass might marry at pleasure, what a multitude of cuckolds there would be! Can one suppose that a young man and a girl of twelve or fifteen years know what is meet and right for them? He who shall consider well the estate of matrimony shall find that at the least as many marriages made for love have had an evil issue as those made by compulsion; and this because young folk, who know not what is fitting for them, take the first mate that offers and think no more on't, but little by little they find out their mistakes and thereupon make bad still worse. On the contrary, such couples as have been wed forcibly, were wed by them that had seen more and had a better judgment than the parties themselves; who when they come to perceive the good they knew not of, embrace and cling to it all the more and with much greater affection." "But, mistress," said Hircan, "you do not remember that this girl was of full age, fit to be married, and with a full knowledge of her father's iniquity, who let a rust grow on her maidenhead for fear of rubbing it off his broad pieces. And you must consider that Dame Nature is an arrant slut. She loved, she was beloved, she found matters ready to her hand, and may haply have, remembered the old saying; 'She that refuseth, after museth.' All this, together with the short work her lover made with her, gave her no time to resist. Likewise you have heard that there was seen in her face afterwards a great change. 'Twas perchance for regret at the short time she had given her to consider whether the thing were good or bad; for it needed no ​long whispering in her ear to make her give it a second trial." "For my part," said Longarine, "I should find no excuse at all in the matter, save for the good faith kept by the young man, who ruling himself in all honesty, did not abandon her, but kept her as he had made her. For which, methinks, he is worthy of great praise, seeing that our youth are now become exceeding corrupt. But for all that I do not excuse him of his rape of the girl and subornation of the mother." "Not so, not so," said Dagoucin. "there was neither rape nor subornation; all was done by mere consent. As to the mothers, though they were deceived, they hindered it not, and as to the daughter she found it altogether to her liking, and so made no complaint on the matter." "It all fell out," said Parlamente, "through the great goodness and simpleness of the merchant's wife, who in all faith led her lamb, without thinking of it, to the slaughter-house." "Rather to the marriage feast," said Simontault, "in such sort that this simpleness was no less profitable to the girl than hurtful to one who let herself be easily cozened by her husband." "Since you know such a story," said Nomerfide, "I give you my vote to tell it us." "And this I will by all means do," said he, "but so that you promise me not to weep thereat. They that declare, ladies, that your craftiness is greater than men's, would have much ado to bring forward my tale to support their position; since in it I will tell you of the great cunning of a husband, and also the simpleness and goodness of his wife."