The Heptameron (Machen)/Novel 51

The Duke of Urbino, named the Prefect, the same that took to wife the sister of the first Duke of Mantua, had a son of the age of eighteen or twenty years, who was in love with the daughter of a good and honourable house, and having the Abbot of Farse for her brother. And since, as the custom of the country is, he was not free to speak with her as he would, he used the help of a gentleman of his following, who was amorous of a young gentlewoman in the service of his mother, mighty pretty and virtuous, and by her the son of the Duke made known to his sweetheart the great affection he had for her. And this the girl thought no shame, taking pleasure in doing him a kindness, and esteeming his intent so good and honourable that she could do no harm by declaring it to his sweetheart. But the Duke, who cared more for the advantage of his house than for honest love, was greatly afraid lest these passages should bring his son into marriage with his mistress, and so kept a shrewd watch. And it was told him that this poor gentlewoman was mixed up in the complot and had given certain letters from his son to her he loved, whereat he was so wrathful, that he determined to take effectual order in the matter. Yet he could not disguise his anger so that the girl should not be advertised of it, and she knowing the craftiness of the Duke that it was great, and his conscience but small, fell into marvellous alarm, and came to the Duchess praying leave to get her gone to some place removed from his sight till his fury was overpast. Her mistress told her that she must first know her husband's will before she gave her leave: all the same she soon understood the Duke's mind towards her, and knowing his complexion, she not only gave her leave, but counselled her to enter a monastery till this storm was blown over. This she did as privily as she was able, but yet the Duke was advised of it, and putting on a feigned gladness, asked his wife where was the gentlewoman, and she, thinking he knew the truth well, confessed it to him, at which he made a pretence of grief, saying she had no need of so doing, and that for his part he wished her no ill, and since the rumour of ​such things was hurtful, she would do well to come back. His wife replied that if the poor girl were so unhappy as to want his favours, it were better that for some time she should not appear in his presence, but he would give ear to none of her reasons, and bade make her return. The Duchess failed not to declare to her the will of the Duke, but she could in no wise assure herself thereof, entreating her mistress not to make her thus tempt fortune, and saying she was persuaded that the Duke was not so ready to grant forgiveness as he feigned to be. Natheless the Duchess declared that she should take no hurt, and pledged her honour for her life. And the girl, knowing that her mistress loved her, and would not wantonly deceive her, put trust in her promise, thinking that the Duke would by no means break such a pledge wherein was engaged the honour of his wife, and so returned to the Duchess. But so soon as the Duke was ware of it, he forthwith came into his wife's room, and when he saw the girl said to his wife: "And so such an one is returned?" Then went he back to his gentlemen bidding them take her and clap her up in prison. At this the poor Duchess, who on her word had drawn her from the liberties of the monastery, became desperate, throwing herself on her knees before her husband, and entreating him for the love of her and her house not to do such a deed, since in obedience to him she had enticed her from the place where she was in safety. Yet no prayers that she could make availed at all to soften his hard heart, nor to overcome his fixed resolve to take vengeance on her, so, not replying to his wife, he went quickly from her, and without form of justice, forgetting alike his God and the honour of his house, he cruelly made hang the poor gentlewoman. I will not endeavour to tell you of the sorrow of the Duchess, for it was that which should befall an honourable lady and a kind-hearted, who against the pledge given of her, saw one die whom she was fain to have saved. Still less can be told the bitter grief of the poor gentleman her lover, who failed not to endeavour to the utmost to save his sweetheart's life, offering to die in her stead. But no manner of pity or compassion could touch this Duke, who knew none other happiness than to be avenged on his enemy. So was this innocent gentlewoman put to death by the cruel Duke against all law and honour, and to the great sorrow of them that knew her.

​"Consider, ladies, what cometh of malice when it is joined to power." "I have heard," said Longarine, "that the Italians are subject to three vices in particular, but I never thought their cruel vengeance would have gone thus far, as for so small an occasion to send a woman to a shameful death." Saffredent, laughing, said to her: "Longarine, you have truly told us one of the three vices, but I would know as to the two others." "If you knew not," answered she, "I would tell you, but sure am I that you know them all." "Do you then esteem me," said Saffredent, "so exceeding vicious?" "Not so," answered Longarine, "but that you know so well the foulness of vice, that better than any other you can avoid it." "Marvel not," said Simontault, "at this piece of cruelty, for they that have been in Italy tell of such deeds that this is a mere peccadillo by comparison." "Truly," said Geburon, "when Rivolte was taken by the French, an Italian captain, accounted a brave soldier, seeing dead one who was only his enemy in that he was of an opposite faction, tore out his heart, and hastily roasting it, ate it. And he replied to certain that asked how it tasted, that he had never eaten so dainty a dish or one so savoury, and not content with this he killed the wife of the dead man, and snatching from her womb the fruit thereof, dashed it against a wall. Then he filled the two bodies of husband and wife with oats, and made his horses eat from them. Think you this man would not surely have put a girl to death, whom he suspected to have done him a wrong?" "It must be confessed," said Ennasuitte, "that the Duke had a greater fear lest his son should make a poor marriage, than desire to give him a wife according to his taste." "I suppose one cannot doubt," said Simontault, "that the habit of the Italians is to love more than nature things merely created for the service of the same." "Nay, and worse than this," said Hircan, "for they make a god of things that are against nature." "These be the sins I would tell you of," said Longarine, "for 'tis well known that to love money, beyond our honest necessities, is to commit idolatry." Parlamente said that St. Paul had not forgotten the vices proper to the Italians and to all them who thought to pass and overcome other men in honour, prudence, and earthly reason, on which so strongly do they bottom themselves that they give not to God the glory that belongs to Him. Where​fore the Almighty, who is a jealous God, maketh them that esteem themselves to be of keener wit than other men more witless than the beasts of the field, causing them to manifest by their unnatural deeds that there is no health in them. Longarine broke in amidst her words, saying that this was the third sin that was in her mind. "By my faith," said Nomerfide, "this talk is mighty pleasant to me. For since those spirits esteemed the noblest and highest are so punished that they become more foolish than the beasts, needs must be that the small and humble and they of no reputation, like myself, are filled with the wisdom of angels." "I do assure you," said Oisille, "that I am not far from your opinion, for none is more ignorant than he who thinks he knows." "I have never seen," said Geburon, "the mocker who was not mocked, the cozener that was not cozened, nor the vain-boaster that was not humbled." "You call to remembrance," said Simontault, "a piece of cozenage that, if it were seemly, I would willingly have told you." "Since then we are here to tell the truth," said Oisille, "be it as it may, I give you my vote." "That being so," said he, "I will tell you the story."