The Heptameron (Machen)/Novel 61

Hard-by the town of Autun there dwelt a lady, tall, fair, and of as goodly a feature as I have ever seen. And she was wed to an honest gentleman somewhat younger than herself, who loved and entreated her so well that she had good reason to be satisfied with him. Some space of time after they were married he brought her with him to Autun where he had some business, and while he pleaded in the court his wife went to ​church to pray to God for him. And she resorted so much to this holy place that a rich canon grew amorous on her, and paid his suit to such purpose that the poor wretch submitted to him, of which her husband had no suspicion, taking more thought for his substance than for his wife. But when she must needs depart thence and return to her home, seven long leagues from Autun, she grieved sore, though the canon promised he would often come and see her. This he did, feigning to go on a journey, and the road always led past the gentleman's house, and he, not being altogether foolish, perceived his intent, and took such order that when the canon came there he found the wife no more, for the husband made her to bestow herself so secretly that there could be no parley between them. She, not ignorant of her husband's jealousy, gave no sign that it was displeasing to her, natheless she resolved to effect something, for to lose the sight of her divinity seemed to her as hell. So one day, on the which her husband was away from the house, she so dealt with the servants that she was left alone; and forthwith taking what was needful, and with no fellow save her brainsick rapture, she fared forth on foot to Autun. There she arrived not too late to be recognised of her canon, who kept her privily in his house for better than a year, for all the excommunications and citations procured by her husband; and he, having no other remedy, made complaint to the bishop, who had as good an archdeacon as there ever was in France. And such diligent search did he make for her through all the canon's houses that he found her that was lost and clapped her into prison, condemning the canon to a sharp penance. The husband, being advised that by means of the good archdeacon and several other honest folk she was recovered, was content to take her back on her oath that from henceforth she would live virtuously, which the good man easily believed, for he loved her greatly. And being received again into his house, she was entreated as honourably as afore, save that her husband gave her two ancient bedchamber women, one of whom was always with her. But however kindly he might use her, the wicked love she had for the canon made her deem all rest as torment; and though she was a mighty pretty woman, and he a strong burly man, of a sanguine complexion, yet they had no children, for her heart was ever seven long leagues from her body. ​Yet this she dissembled so well that her husband conceived that all that was past was forgotten of her as it was forgiven of him. But when she saw that her husband loved her as greatly as ever, and had no suspicions, she craftily feigned to fall sick, and so persisted in her cozenage that he was exceeding afraid, sparing nothing to succour her. Natheless she played her part so well, that he and all his house thought that she was sick unto death, and growing by slow degrees weaker and weaker; and she, seeing him to be as sorry as he should have been glad, prayed him to give her authority to make her will, and this he willingly did, weeping the while. And having power to devise, though she had no children, she gave to her husband all that she was able, asking his pardon for her offences against him; then the parson being come she confessed and received the holy Sacrament of the altar, with such devotion that all wept to see so glorious an end. And when it was evening she prayed her husband to send for extreme unction, since she grew so feeble that she scarce hoped to take it alive; so he sent with all haste for the parson, and she, by her great humility in the reception of it, made all present to praise her. So, having discharged these holy mysteries, she said to her husband, that God having given her grace to receive all the rites of Holy Church, she was so quieted in her mind that she would fain rest awhile, and prayed her husband to do the like, and indeed with all his weeping and watchings he stood in sore need thereof. And when her husband and all his people with him were gone out, the two old women who had guarded her so long in health, not fearing now to lose her, save by death, went to sleep at their ease. And so soon as she heard them snoring, she arose in her shift and went out of the room, listening whether any one in the house was stirring; and having her loins girded and her staff in her hand, she sallied forth by a little garden gate that was not shut, and while it was night, in her shift alone and with bare feet, she made her pilgrimage to the saint at Autun, who could raise her from death to life. But since it was a long journey she could not accomplish the whole space of it before the day began to dawn. Then looking all along the road she saw two horsemen riding furiously, and, thinking it was her husband who sought her out, she hid her body in a marshy place, with her head amidst the rushes, and as ​her husband chased by he said to his servant, in a manner of despair: "Alas! the wicked woman! Who would have thought that, under the holy sacraments of the church, she would have concealed so foul and abominable a deceit!" The servant replied: "Since Judas, who received the same bread as she, feared not to bewray his master, do not esteem it a strange thing for a woman to do the like." Then her husband passed on; and his wife tarried amidst the rushes, more glad to have deceived him than when she esteemed herself as a slave in her good bed at home. The poor husband made search through all the town of Autun, but he perceived that of a certainty she was not entered therein, wherefore he went back making great complaint of her and his loss, and threatening her with nothing less than death if he found her. But of this she had no fear in her mind, no more than she had of the cold in her body, though the place and the season should have sufficed to make her repent of this her damnable pilgrimage. And if we knew not how the fire of hell burns up them that are filled with it, we should justly find it a marvellous thing that this wretched woman, coming out of a warm bed, was able to stay a whole day in the bitter cold. Yet she lost not heart for the journey, but so soon as it was night fared forth again upon her way; and when they were about to shut the gates of Autun this pilgrim arrived there, and went straight to the shrine of her saint, who scarcely was able to believe that it was she, so astonished was he at the sight of her. But when he had made careful examination of her he found that she had flesh and bones, which a spirit hath not, and so assuring himself that she was no phantom, from henceforth they were in such good accord that they lived together fourteen or fifteen years. And though for some time she abode with him privily, at last she lost all fear, and worse than this, gloried to have such a sweetheart, so that she set herself in church higher than most of the honest women in the town, the wives of officers and other folk. And by the canon she had children, notably a daughter who was married to a rich merchant, and after so magnificent a sort that all the women in the town murmured at it, but had not authority to take any order in the matter. Now it came to pass that at this time Queen Claude, wife of Francis the First, passed through Autun, having in her following the Regent, mother to ​the King, and also her daughter the Duchess of Alençon. And the Queen had a servant, named Perrette, who came to the aforesaid Duchess, and said to her: "Mistress, hear me, I entreat you, for so you will do better than to go to the service at the church." The Duchess willingly gave ear to her, knowing she would not say aught that was not good, so Perrette forthwith told her how she had taken to her a little girl to help in the washing of the Queen's linen; and on asking her the news of the town, she spoke as touching the grief of the honest women to see the canon's strumpet thus going before them, and made some relation of the woman's life. And the Duchess went presently to the Queen and the Regent, and recounted to them this history, and they, without any form of law, cited this poor wretch before them, who by no means hid herself away. For her former shame was changed into boasting that she kept the house of so rich a man, and no whit afraid or shamefaced, she came into the presence of the aforesaid ladies, who marvelled at this impudency, so that at first they knew not what to say. But afterwards the Regent remonstrated with her in such sort as should have made a woman of any understanding weep. But she did none of this, and with unspeakable audacity answered them: "I pray you, ladies, touch not mine honour, for, praised be God, I have lived with the canon so honestly and virtuously that no living soul can cast anything in my teeth. And let no one think that I do anything against the will of God, since for these three years past he hath not known me, and we dwell together as chastely and lovingly as two little angels, and never a thought nor a word betwixt us to the contrary. And whosoever shall sunder us will commit a great sin, insomuch as the good man, who is hard on his eightieth year, cannot live without me, who am but forty-five." You can conceive what fashion of discourse the ladies used with her, and the remonstrances which they made; but for all that her heart was not softened by their words, nor by her own years, nor for the company she was in. And to humiliate her the more they sent for the good archdeacon of Autun, who condemned her to a year's imprisonment on bread and water. Then the ladies sent for her husband, who, by reason of their exhortations, was content to take her back, after that she had performed her penances. But being a prisoner, and advised that the canon ​was resolved to be altogther quit of her, she thanked the ladies for that they had thrown the devil from her back, and repented her so heartily, that her husband, in place of waiting for a year, came and asked her of the archdeacon in a fortnight, and they lived in perfect peace and contentment ever after.

"Behold, ladies, how the chains of St. Peter are by evil ministers converted to the chains of the devil, and so hardly are they to be broken that the sacraments, which make Satan to flee away, are the means whereby he dwells the longer in their bodies. For the best is that which, when it suffers corruption, becomes the worst." "Truly," said Oisille, "the woman was a wretch, but she was sufficiently punished by coming before such judges as the ladies you have named, since the very look of the Regent was so virtuous, that an honest woman deemed herself unworthy to stand before her eyes, and was afraid. She on whom her regard was kind took great praise to herself, knowing that this lady looked on wanton women with but small favour." "This would be goodly work," said Hircan, "that one should have more fear for the eyes of a woman than for the Holy Sacrament, that if it be not received in faith and charity, is for everlasting damnation." "I promise you," answered Parlamente, "that they who have not God in their hearts are more afraid of the powers temporal than spiritual. And I suppose that this poor soul cleansed her ways more for her imprisonment and the loss of the canon than for any remonstrances that were made to her." "Yet you have forgotten," said Simontault, "the efficient cause that made her return to her husband. And this was that the canon was eighty and her husband younger than she, so this good dame came off best in all her battles; but if the canon had been a young man, she would not have forsaken him. Nor would the reproaches of the ladies have been of more avail than the sacraments she had received." "Yet," said Nomerfide, "she did well, methinks, not to confess her sin too easily, for such offences should be told with all humility to God, and stiffly denied before men; since, though the accusation be a true one, by force of lying and swearing, some doubt may be engendered in the minds of the judges." "Natheless," said Longarine, "a sin cannot be done so secretly that it shall not be revealed, if God do not hide it in them that for love of Him truly repent thereof." "And ​what say you," said Hircan, "to them that no sooner sin than they make proclamation of it?" "I find this a strange thing," said Longarine, "and a sign that the sin is not displeasing to the sinner. And as I have told you, unless it be for the grace of God, it cannot be denied before men; and some there are who, taking pleasure in such discourse, blaze, abroad their vice; and others who, by contradicting themselves, accuse themselves." "If you know any example of this," said Saffredent, "I give you my place for the telling of it." "Listen, then," said Longarine.