The Heptameron (Machen)/Novel 68

At the town of Pau, in Bearn, lived an apothecary named Master Etienne, who had to wife an honest woman and a good housekeeper, and fair enough to have contented him. But as he tasted a diversity of drugs, so also did he of women, to the intent that he might be able to speak with more weight on every kind of complexion, whereat his wife was so anguished that she lost all patience, for he never had to do with her save in Holy Week, as a matter of penance. And one day, when the apothecary was in his shop, and his wife hidden behind, listening to what he said, there came in a woman, gossip to the apothecary, and smitten with the same disease as his wife. And she, sighing, said to him: "Alas, gossip, I am the most wretched of all women, for I love my husband more than myself, and do but think how best I may serve and obey him; yet is all my labour lost, since he loves more than me the nastiest, vilest slut in the town. And I pray you, gossip, if you know any drug that will change his complexion, give it to me, for if I be kindly entreated of him, I do assure you I will return you all the recompense in my power." The apothecary, consoling her, said he knew a powder that, if she gave it to her husband with his broth or roast, like powder of cinnamon, would cause him to make her very good cheer. The poor woman, desiring to behold this miracle, asked what it was, and whether she could obtain it. He declared there was nothing like the powder of cantharides, of which he had good store; so before they parted she would have him make ready some of this same powder, and took of it as much as she needed, and many a time afterwards did she give him thanks, since her husband, being a lusty man, and not taking too much thereof, was none the worse for it. The wife of the apothecary heard all their discourse, and thought within herself that she stood in as sore need of this nostrum as her gossip. And knowing the place wherein her husband had put the remainder of the powder, she was minded to make use of it, when she should see her opportunity, and this fell out in three or four days, when her husband, feeling a coldness in his belly, entreated her to make him a mess of pottage; ​but she answered that a roast with cinnamon powder would be more wholesome for him. He therefore bade her forthwith make one ready, and to take the cinnamon and the sugar from the shop, which she did, in nowise forgetting to put in all the powder he had not given his gossip, having no regard for dose, weight, nor measure. Her husband ate the roast, and found it very good, but soon after he felt the effects, which he was fain to satisfy with his wife, but to no avail, for in such sort did the fire burn him, that he knew not on which side to turn, and said to her that she had poisoned him, asking what she had put in the roast. She confessed the truth to him, telling him she had as great a need to use the powder as had his gossip. The poor apothecary was not able to pelt her with aught save railing words, for indeed he was too sick; but he drove her from before his face, and sent for the Queen of Navarre's apothecary to visit him. And he gave him all the remedies fit to cure him, the which was done in a short time, and he sharply rebuked him that he had been so foolish as to give to another drugs that he would not take himself, telling him that his wife had done well, since she desired by that means to be the more beloved of him. And so the poor man was compelled to bear his sorrows with long suffering, and to confess he was well punished by falling into the pit he had prepared for another.

"Methinks, ladies, this woman's love was great without knowledge." "Call you it love for her husband," said Hircan, "to do him a hurt for the pleasure she hoped to get from him?" "I suppose," said Longarine, "her intent was only to recover his love, that she deemed had strayed away. To accomplish this a woman will do all things." "Yet," said Geburon, "in the matter of eating and drinking, a woman should for no cause give to her husband that of which she is not assured both by her own experience and the writings of the learned; natheless, one must pardon ignorance. This woman was to be excused; for the most blinding of all passions is love, and the most blinded of all mortals is that woman who has not strength to order discreetly so weighty a matter." "Geburon," said Oisille, "you fall from your good custom, to make yourself appear of one mind with your fellows. But are there not women that have borne both love and jealousy with patience?" "Ay," said Hircan, "and pleasantly withal; for the most discreet are they ​that have as much delight to make a mock of their husband's doings as their husbands have to cozen them, and if it please you to give me your vote, to the end that Mistress Oisille may bring this day to an end, I will tell you of a husband and wife that are known to all this company." "Begin, then," said Nomerfide. And Hircan, laughing, began thus: