The Heptameron (Machen)/Novel 58

At the Court of King Francis the First there was a lady of a mighty keen wit, who for her graciousness, honour, and pleasant manner of speaking had won the heart of many lovers; keeping her virtue safe all the while, and so ordering her passages with them that they knew not on what to lay hold, for the most assured would presently despair, and the most desperate pluck up courage. Natheless, though for the most part she made a mock of them, yet she loved exceedingly one she called her cousin, the which name was a pretext for a somewhat close commerce. And since no thing continueth in one stay, often was their love turned to anger, and from anger converted to love, in such sort that the whole Court knew of it. One day this lady, as much to cause it to be known that she had no deep affection for anything as to give pain to him on account of whom she had borne much annoy, showed him a kinder face than she had ever done before. Wherefore the gentleman, who lacked not courage neither in love nor war, began to seek in a very lively fashion that he had ofttimes craved of her, and she, feigning to be overcome by compassion, granted him his request, and told him that to compass the matter she would go to her room, which was in the loft, and there she was persuaded they would find no one, charging him so soon as he saw her go out to follow her, since she would be alone. Believing her words the gentleman was so content with her goodwill towards him that he fell to playing with the other ladies till the time ​came to follow her out. And she, who was in no wise lacking in woman's craftiness, went to Lady Margaret, daughter of the King, and to the Duchess of Montpensier, and said to them: "If it be your pleasure I will show you as brave a jest as you have ever seen." They being not at all melancholical, prayed her tell them what was the manner of it. "You know," said she, "such an one, that he is as honest and daring a gentleman as may be. You know likewise how many bad turns he has done me, and how, when I loved him most, he set passages on foot with other women, at which I took more annoy than I made evident. And now God hath delivered him into my hands, for as I go to my room in the loft, if it please you to keep good watch, you will see him presently follow me, and when he shall have passed through the galleries and is about to mount the stair, I pray you both go to the window and help me to cry thief. You shall behold his rage at it, and I think he will carry it with no bad grace, and if he do not rail at me aloud, he will assuredly do so in his heart." The enterprise was agreed upon, and not without laughter, for there was no gentleman that did wage such war with the ladies as this one, and he was so beloved and esteemed of them all that they would not for anything have made themselves a jest for him; and it seemed good to the two ladies to have a part in the glory which one alone might have gained for herself. Wherefore, as soon as they saw her who was the principal in the undertaking go out, they kept watch on the gentleman's face, who waited no long time, and when he had passed the door, the ladies went into the gallery so as to lose sight of him. And he, suspecting nothing, folded his cloak around his neck to hide his visage, and went down the stair into the courtyard, but finding one there whom he wished not for a witness, he crossed the yard, and returned by another way. All this was seen of the ladies unknown to him, and when he came to the stair whence he might go in safety to the room of his mistress, they forthwith set themselves at the window where they saw her up above, who began to cry thief at the top of her voice, the two ladies below answering so loudly that they were heard all through the castle. I leave you to imagine how wrathfully the gentleman fled to his lodging, not so secretly as not to be known of them that were of the mystery, who often mocked him with it, as did she that ​did him this bad turn, telling him she was well avenged. But he had his replies and excuses so pat, that he half made them believe he suspected somewhat all the while, and had agreed to see the lady only to make a jest of her, since for the love of her he would not have taken the trouble, inasmuch as for a long while she had been out of his thoughts. But the ladies not receiving this for truth, the affair is still matter of disputation, natheless it is probable that he believed his mistress, for so discreet and brave a man was he that in his time he had few to match and none to oversmatch him, as was evident to all by his glorious and knightly death.

"Methinks we must confess, therefore, that the love of honest men is so great that, for putting too much belief in their ladies, they are ofttimes deceived." "In good faith," said Ennasuitte, "I praise the lady for the wrong she did him; for when a man is beloved and leaves his mistress for another, there is no revenge too bitter." "Ay," said Parlamente, "if she is beloved of him, but there are women who love without sufficient assurance of their love being returned, and when they find out that the men are courting elsewhere, they call them fickle. Wherefore such women as are discreet are never deceived by idle talk, since they give no belief to them that speak the truth, for fear they may be perchance liars, insomuch as truth and falsehood use the same language." "If all were of your opinion," said Simontault, "the men might put their prayers into their coffers; but whatsoever you and they like unto you may say, we will never allow that women are as slow to believe as they are pretty. So we shall live as content in this persuasion as you, by your conclusions, would make us to be afraid." "Of a truth," said Longarine, "knowing who it was that handled the gentleman in this fashion, I could believe anything of her, since she who spares not her husband will not spare her lover." "Her husband, say you?" said Simontault; "you know more than I; so I hereby give you my place to tell us the story." "Since you will have it so I will tell it you," said Longarine.