The Heptameron (Machen)/Novel 59

This lady aforesaid was married to a rich gentleman of an ancient and honourable house, and they were wed alone for the great love there was between them. She, being mighty fair and open in her speech,

SIXIÈME JOURNÉE
Nouvelle LIX^edid not conceal from her husband that she had lovers, of whom she made a mock and a pastime, and he at first was content, but at last he grew a-weary of it, on the one hand misliking that she should so much entertain folk that were none of his friends nor kinsfolk, and on the other vexing for the great charges she put on him for the maintenance of a splendid appearance, and in following of the Court. Wherefore as many weeks as he could he spent at his country house, whither came so much company that his expenses were diminished by but a little; for his wife, wheresoever she might be, always found means to pass the time in dancing, games, and such-like contentments as may be used of young maids without dishonour. And when her husband would laugh and say to her that their disbursements were too heavy, she would reply to him that he might be assured she would never make him coqu (which we call cuckold), but only coquin, that is, a beggar. For she loved rich gear so well that she must go drest as bravely as any lady of the Court, whither her husband took her as seldom as he could, and whither she did all in her power to go, and on this account made herself so pleasant to her husband that he could hardly refuse her anything she asked.

And when all her invention availed nothing to persuade him to make this journey to Court, one day she perceived that he was vastly civil to one of her bedchamber women, the which she hoped to turn to her own advantage. So taking the girl apart, she sifted her, part by promises and part by threatenings, in such wise, that she confessed that from the time she came into the house there was not a day that her master did not importune and solicit her; but she would rather die than do this thing against God and her virtue, let alone the honour that had been done her by being taken into the household, and so if she had consented she would be doubly wicked. The lady, ​hearing of the unfaithfulness of her husband, was smitten with joy and grief; with grief, since her husband, while he made so much pretence of loving her, was seeking to do her shame in her own household; and she also upheld herself for a prettier and more graceful than the woman he preferred before her. But her joy was for that she hoped to take her husband in such a fault that he would no more be enabled to rail at her lovers, and keep her away from Court; and to that intent she prayed the girl to grant little by little her husband's requests, upon certain conditions she told her of. The wench made some difficulty over this, but being assured by her mistress of her honour and her life, she agreed to do her pleasure in the matter.

And the next time the gentleman solicited the girl he found her countenance altogether changed towards him, so he pressed her harder than he was wont. But she, having well learnt her part, made remonstrance to him of her poverty, and said that if she obeyed him she would be dismissed from the service of her mistress, from whom she had good expectancy of getting a husband. To this he soon replied that she need take no care for aught of this, since he would marry her to more advantage than her mistress was able to do, and that he would order the affair so secretly that no one would know of it. Thereupon it was concluded between them; and on considering what place was most fit for their exercitations, she said there was none better nor less obnoxious to suspicion than a small house in the park, wherein was a room and a bed entirely to the purpose. The gentleman, to whom no place would have been amiss, agreed thereto, and he wearied for the day and the hour to draw nigh. The girl observed her promise to his wife, and told her all the whole matter, and how it was to be performed on the morrow after dinner, and that she would make a sign when the time came. Now on the morrow, after that they had dined, the gentleman was more kindly observant of his wife than he had ever been, which was not taken of her in very good part, but yet she dissembled so well that he perceived nothing. After dinner she asked him what should be their pastime, and he replied that he knew of none more pleasant than piquet, so forthwith they set them to the game, but she would not play, feigning to have as much delight in the looking on at it. And as the gentleman sat down he failed not to ​charge the girl to remember her promise; and she, while he was playing, passed out of the hall, and made a sign to her mistress of the journey she was about to perform, which was plainly perceived of her, but not at all of her husband. Natheless, at the end of an hour, one of his servants signed to him from afar, and he said to his wife that he had a trifling rheum in the head, and was constrained to go rest himself and take the air. She, very well knowing the manner of his sickness, asked if she should take his cards; and he answered ay, and that he should soon return. But his wife assured him that she could take his place for two hours, and not weary of the game; so the gentleman went his way to his room, and from thence by an alley into the park. The lady, who was advised of another and a shorter path, waited a little while, and suddenly made pretence of having a colick, giving her cards to another; and so soon as she was out of the hall she doffed her high-heeled boots and ran very speedily to the place where she was not willing that the dance should be without her. And in such good time did she come that she entered by one way as her husband entered by the other, and, hiding herself behind the door, she listened to the fair and honest discourse of him with the servant. But when she saw him approaching very near to the criminal point she took him by the back of his dress, saying: "I am too near for you to have another." It skills not asking whether the gentleman was enraged or no; as much because the delight he hoped to have received was taken from him, as for his wife to know more than he would have had her, whose love he was in great fear of losing for ever. But thinking the crossbite was of the girl's devising, without a word to his wife, he rushed at her so furiously that he would have killed her had not the lady taken her from his hands. And he swore she was the most wicked wench he had ever seen, and that if his wife had waited to the end she would have known it was but a jest, for in place of doing what she thought he would have striped her with rods. But his wife, understanding what coin he was fain to pass upon her, would not take it for good, and made such remonstrance with him that he was mightily afraid she was minded to forsake him. So he promised her whatsoever she might ask of him, and confessed that he had been in the wrong to take offence at her lovers; insomuch as an ​honest woman is none the less honest for that she is loved, so that she neither do nor say anything dishonourable; but a man who, against his wife and his conscience, solicits the love of a wench who cares not for him, is deserving of a shrewd punishment. Wherefore he promised never to put any hindrance in her going to Court, nor to take it in bad part that she had lovers, since he was persuaded she parleyed with them more for jest than for affection's sake. All this was by no means displeasing to the lady, and she thought she had gained a great point; but yet her speech was contrariwise, feigning to mislike the going to Court, since she no longer had his love, without which all companies were a weariness to her. And she professed that a wife, loving her husband, and in like manner being beloved of him, carried a safe-conduct to speak with all men and to be reproached of none. The poor gentleman so laboured to assure her of his love that they went forth from thence good friends, but so as to fall no more into such mishaps he prayed her send the girl, who had been the occasion of so much trouble, away from her service. This she did, but 'twas but to marry her to a good honest man, and at her husband's charges. And so that his wife might altogether forget his folly, he erelong brought her to Court in such magnificent array that she had good reason for contentment.

"And this it was, ladies, that made me say I marvelled not at what she had done to one of her lovers, since I knew of this affair with her husband." "You have shown us," said Hircan, "a crafty wife and a foolish husband; for since he had gone thus far, wherefore did he halt on so fair a road?" "What should he have done, then?" said Longarine. "That he had undertaken," answered Hircan; "for his wife was as angry with him for his evil intent as if he had put it into execution, and perchance she would have had more liking for him as a brisker gallant." "But where," said Ennasuitte, "shall you find a man who can overcome two women at once? For the wife would have defended her rights and the girl her maidenhead." "Be it so," said Hircan, "but a strong man and a daring need have no fear to assail two weak women, and would certainly gain his end." "I know," said Ennasuitte, "that if he had drawn his sword he could have killed the pair of them, but otherwise I see no way out. Wherefore prithee tell us what ​you would have done?" "I would have thrown my arms round my wife," said Hircan, "and borne her out, and then I would have had my pleasure of the girl by love or by force." "Hircan," said Parlamente, "it sufiices that you know how to do evil." "Sure am I, Parlamente," said Hircan, "that I do not scandalise the innocent before whom I speak, and I would by no means sustain an evil deed. As for the undertaking, I wonder at it and consider it a worthless one; and for the undertaker I have no praise, since it was more for fear than love of his wife that he did not bring it to a close. I praise indeed a man that loves his wife according to the commandment of God, but when he loves her not I think no better of him for fearing her." "In truth," said Parlamente, "were you not through love a good husband, I should not make much account of what you might do through fear." "You need have no care, Parlamente," said Hircan, "for the love I have for you doth cause me to be more obedient than the fear of death and hell." "You may speak according to your liking," said Parlamente, "but I have reason for contentment in what I have seen and known of you; and as for that I know not, I wish neither to know nor to make inquiry concerning it." "I hold it great foolishness," said Nomerfide, "for wives to be curiously inquisitive as to their husbands, and in like manner husbands as to their wives. For sufficient for the day is the evil thereof, without need to take thought for the morrow." "Yet," said Oisille, "it is sometimes needful to inquire on matters that touch the honour of a house, but this only that order may be taken therewith, and not for the ill-judging of persons, since there is none without fault." "Many an one," said Geburon, "hath fallen into mischance, for want of a curious inquiry into his wife's fault." "I pray you," said Longarine, "if you know of all example thereof, hide it not from us." "One is well known to me," answered Geburon, "and since it is your pleasure I will tell it."