The Heptameron (Machen)/Prologue

On the first day in September, when as the springs of the Pyrenean mountains begin to put on their virtuousness, there came together at those of Cauterets much folk from France, Spain, and other countries; some to drink of the water, some to bathe therein, and others to take the mud-bath. And each and all of these are so marvellous in their operation that men given up by the doctors return from Cauterets whole and sound. Yet my aim is neither to show forth the place nor the virtuousness of these springs aforesaid, but only to relate that which appertaineth to the matter on which I am about to write. Now there tarried in this place for more than three weeks all the sick folk, until they discovered by the good case of their bodies that it was fit for them to return. But at the time appointed for their setting forth, there fell such great rains that it seemed as if God had forgotten the promise that he made to Noah, not again to destroy the world by water, since by it all the cottages of Cauterets were so filled that no one could dwell therein. And those who came from the land of Spain returned thither by the mountains, as best they could, and, trust me, they who had a good knowledge of the tracks were the ones to fare best. But the ladies and gentlemen of France, thinking to get them back to Therbes as easily as they came, found the rivulets so swollen, that they were hardly to be crossed. And having come to the Gave Bearnois, which when they went was not more than two feet deep, they found it so mighty and rushing a stream that they turned aside to seek for bridges, but these being but of wood had been carried away by the strength of the torrent. Some indeed, believing that they could withstand its force by fording it in a body, were so quickly borne away, that the rest, though they would fain cross, had small wish to do so; and so, as their inclination was, they separated and went in divers directions to seek for some new way. Some taking the mountain track, and passing ​through Arragon, came to the county of Roussillon and to Narbonne, and others fared straight to Barcelona, whence sailing they got to Marseilles and Aiguemorte,

But a certain widow, of much experience, named Oisille, determined to lay by all fear of the bad roads, and to journey to Our Lady of Serrance. Not that she was of so superstitious a mind as to think that the glorious Virgin would leave her session by the right hand of her Son, and dwell in that desert land, but only for her great desire of seeing that holy place of which so great a noise had come to her ears, and being assured likewise that if there were any way out of this peril, the monks would be advised thereof. And this she accomplished, yet traversing such a wild country and ways as hard to go up as to come down, that although she was old and slow in movement, she had to go the best part of the journey on foot. But of this the worst was that most of her folk and her horses died on the way, so she came to Serrance, having one man and one woman only, and was there taken in and kindly entreated by the monks.

Now there were among the French travellers two gentlemen who had gone to the springs, rather that they might accompany their ladies than for any failing in their health. And seeing that the company was setting forth, and that the husbands of their ladies were likewise taking them away, they thought fit to follow them from afar, without making anyone privy to their design. But it came to pass that one evening when the married gentlemen were lodged with their wives at the house of one who was more a robber than a churl, that the lovers of these ladies, who were also lodged in a cottage hard by, heard at night a great tumult. Whereupon they and their servants arose, and enquired of their host what this noise might be. And he, much afraid, told them that it was some Roaring Boys, who had come to take their share of the booty that was at the house of the robber, their comrade; at which the young gallants forthwith laid hold of their arms, and with their servants went to the succour of the ladies, death for whom they accounted far sweeter than life without them. And when they came to the place they found the outer gate broken in, and the two husbands with their servants defending themselves full bravely. But since the number of the robbers ​was great, and they were grievously wounded, having by this time lost the greater part of their servants, they were beginning to give way. The two gallants, seeing their ladies wailing and entreating at the windows, were worked by pity and love to such a point of courage that, after the fashion of two bears rushing down from the mountains, they burst upon the robbers and so handled them that many were killed, and those left alive would not stay for any more blows, but escaped to their hiding place as best they could. The two gallants, having put these villains to flight, and killed the host among the rest, heard that the hostess was worse than her mate, whereupon they, with the thrust of a sword, sent her to join him. Next, entering into one of the lower rooms they found therein one of the married gentlemen, who presently gave up the ghost. The other was scot-free of wounds, yet was all his vesture pierced with sword-thrusts, and his own sword broken in two. This poor man, beholding before him his rescue, prayed the young men, after both embracing and thanking them, by no means to leave him, which was to them a request mighty pleasant. And after they had buried the dead man, and comforted, after the best sort they could, his widow, they set forth again, not knowing which road to take but leaving it in God's hands. And if it be your pleasure to know the names of these three gentlemen, the one who was married was called Hircan, and his wife Parlamente, and the widow was Longarine. And the names of the two gallants were Dagoucin and Saffredent. And after that they had been all the day on horseback, toward evensong they made out a spire, whither, after much travail and labour, they arrived. Now this was the spire of the abbey of St. Savyn, and here they were taken in and well entreated by the abbot and his monks. And the abbot, who was of a noble house, gave them good lodging, and as he waited upon them to their rooms, enquired of them their hap. And having heard how bad it was he told them that they were not alone in tasting of misfortune, for he had in one of his rooms two ladies who had escaped equal, if not greater peril, since they had had to do not with men but with beasts, in whom there is no pity. For these poor ladies, when half a league on this side of Peyrechitte, had met a bear coming down from the mountain, from before which they had fled at ​such a rate that at the gate of the abbey their horses dropped dead under them, and two of their maids, who came in a long while after, told them that the bear had killed all their men-servants. Then did the two ladies and the three gentlemen go into the room where these unhappy ones were lodged, and found them weeping, and knew them for Nomerfide and Ennasiutte. So having embraced one another, they told what had befallen them, and in concert with the good abbot, comforted themselves for having again fallen into company. And in the morning they heard mass with much devotion, praising God for the perils which were overpast.

And while they were all at mass there came into the church a man clad only in his shirt, flying as if some one pursued him, and crying for help. Straightway did Hircan and the other gentlemen go forth to discover what the affair was; and there they beheld two men with drawn swords, who followed after him; and these seeing so great a number, would fain have fled; but Hircan and his company pursued them and put them to the sword. And when the aforesaid Hircan returned he found that the man clad in the shirt was Geburon, one of his comrades, who said that while he was in bed in a cottage near Peyrechitte there came upon him three men, and though he was in his shirt and armed only with a sword, he so shrewdly wounded one that he died upon the spot. And whilst the two others set themselves to succour their fellow, he, perceiving that he was naked and the robbers armed, thought he could scarcely win save by flight, being little impeded by his dress. And for the good event of this he gave thanks to God, and to those who had for him done vengeance.

After they had heard mass and dined, they went to see if it were possible to cross the Gave, and seeing that it was not they were in great affray, although the abbot many times entreated them to abide there until the waters were abated, and to this for the day they agreed. And in the evening, as they were going to bed, there came an old monk who, for many a year, had failed not to be present during September at Our Lady of Serrance. And on their asking him the news of his journey, he said that by reason of the floods he had come by the mountain tracks, and that they were the worst roads he had ever been on. But one most pitiful case he had to tell, ​and this was that he had found a young gentleman named Simontault, who, weary of the long time the floods took to abate, had determined to force the passage, trusting in the goodness of his horse, and having first placed all his serving-men around him, thereby to break the force of the water. But when they were in mid-stream, those who were badly mounted were borne headlong, men and horses, down stream and were never rescued. The gentleman finding himself alone, turned his horse to the bank whence he came, yet not so sharply as to avail anything. But God willed that he was so near to the shore as to be able, drawing himself on his hands and knees, and drinking a great deal of water, to reach the rough flintstones on the bank, so weak and feeble that he could not stand. But it chanced well for him that a shepherd, bringing his sheep home at evening, found him lying there among the stones, soaking wet, and sad at heart as well for himself as for his folk whom he had seen perishing before his eyes. The shepherd, who perceived his case more by his look than by his words, took him by the hand and led him to his cottage, where he dried him with a fire of broken sticks as well as might be. And, that night, God led thither this good monk, who showed him the way to Our Lady of Serrance, and told him he would be lodged there in better fashion than in any other place, and that he would find there an aged widow called Oisille, who was indeed his equal in misfortunes. And when all the company heard of the good lady Oisille, and the gentle knight Simontault, that they were safe, a great joy fell on them, and they praised the Creator that, deeming the serving-men and maids sufficient sacrifice, he had kept alive their master and mistress; and above all did Parlamente give thanks unto God from the bottom of her heart, since for a long while had Simontault been accepted by her as a devoted lover. And having made careful enquiry of the road to Serrance, although the good old man showed them how difficult it was, yet none the less did they determine to journey there; and on that very day did they set forth without lack of anything, for the abbot had given them of the best horses that were in Lavedan, and goodly cloaks of Beam, and abundant provaunt, and an escort to guide them safely across the mountains. And so, faring more on foot than horseback, with great sweat and travail they ​came to Our Lady of Serrance, where the abbot, though he was an inhospitable man, durst not refuse them lodging, for the fear he had of the Lord of Bearn, by whom he knew them to be well beloved; but he, being a well-taught hypocrite, put on for them his most obliging face, and led them to see the good lady Oisille and the gentle knight Simontault.

Now such delight was on the company, in such wondrous wise gathered together, that to them all the night seemed short, praising God in the church for the mercy he had showed toward them. And after that in the morning they had taken some short rest, they all went to hear mass and to receive the Holy Sacrament of concord, in which all Christians are united into one body, imploring Him who had gathered them together to perfect their journey to his glory. After dinner they sent to know if the floods were not yet abated, and finding that they were rather increased, they determined to make them a bridge, fixing it on two rocks which are very near to one another, and where there are still planks for those on foot, who, coming from Oleron, may wish to cross the Gave. In much delight was the abbot that they performed this at their own charges, to the end that the number of pilgrims and gifts should be increased for him, and so he furnished them with labourers, yet not one farthing did he give of his own, for he was too miserly. And since the labourers said that the bridge could not be finished before ten or twelve days, both the men and women of the company began to be very weary; but Parlamente, the wife of Hircan, who was never listless or melancholy, having asked of her husband leave to speak, spoke thus to the aged lady Oisille: "Good mistress, I am amazed that you, who have had so great experience, and who stand towards us women as a mother, do not think of some pastime wherewith to subdue this weariness of ours at the long delay; for if we do not get some pleasant and seemly pursuit we shall be in danger of growing sick." To this added the young widow Longarine: "And what is worse we shall grow peevish, and hardly to be cured thereof; for if you will consider there is no man nor maid amongst us but has occasion enough for sorrow." Ennasiutte, laughing, replied to her: "Not every one of us has lost a husband as you have, and as for serving-men one need not despair on their account, for others are to be had; natheless I ​am well persuaded that we should have some pleasant pursuit to pass the time, or else we shall be dead by the morrow." All the gentlemen were of their mind, and would have the lady Oisille declare to them what they should do, and she thus replied: "My children, it is a hard thing this that you ask of me, to show you some pastime that will free you from your weariness. For this I have sought through my whole life, and only one pastime have I found—namely, the reading of the Holy Scriptures, where is found the true and perfect joy of the spirit, whence there cometh health and rest to the body. And if you ask how I, at my years, can be so cheerful and healthy, I tell you that when I rise in the morning I straightway take the Holy Scriptures and read therein, considering and meditating on the goodness of God in sending, for our sake, his Son upon the earth to make manifest those good tidings in which he doth promise forgiveness of all sins, and satisfaction for all trespasses through the gift of His love, passion, and merits. This it is that makes me to be glad, so that I take my psalter, and in most lowly fashion do sing from my heart and indite with my mouth those psalms and canticles with which the Holy Spirit hath inspired David and the other writers. And this delight that I have in them is so great that all mishaps the day can bring show to me but as blessings, seeing that I have in my heart by faith Him who hath borne my sorrows. In like manner before I sup I go apart to give my soul his pasture in the Scriptures, and then in the evening I recall to my mind all that I have done during the day that is past, asking of God pardon for my sins, and thanking Him for the grace which He hath bestowed upon me; so in His love, and fear, and peace, I take my rest well assured against all perils. Behold, then, my children, the pastime to which I am attached, and have been a long while, after having searched all others, and not finding contentment therein for my spirit. Methinks, therefore, that if in the mornings you would give an hour to reading, and this done, pray devoutly at mass, you would find in this desert place a greater beauty than there is in cities, for he who knoweth God beholds all things beautiful in Him, and without Him nothing is fair; wherefore I entreat you that you receive my counsel, if you would live joyously." Next did Hircan take up the discourse, and said: "Good mistress, those who have read ​the Holy Scriptures, as I believe we all have, will agree that what you say is altogether true. Natheless, you must consider that these bodies of ours are not so mortified as not to need also some exercise, for if we were at our houses we should have hunting and falconry, to make us forget our idle thoughts; while the ladies have their housewifery, their tambour-work, and sometimes dancing, wherein they can take seemly exercise. And all this makes me say (speaking on behalf of the men) that you, who are most in years, shall read to us in the morning time somewhat of the life of our Lord Jesus Christ, and of the mighty and admirable works that He hath done for us; but as to the hours between dinner and evensong we have yet to find some pastime that may be wholesome for the soul and pleasant to the body; and so with all this shall the day be passed joyously."

The lady Oisille said she had had such toil to put out of mind all worldly vanities that she feared any choice of hers would be a bad one; but it was necessary to put the matter to the vote, and would have Hircan give his opinion first. "As for me," said Hircan, "if I conceived that the pastime I would fain chose were as agreeable to a certain one of this company as it is to me, my vote would soon be given, but as it is I am dumb, and wait to hear what others say." His wife Parlamente thereupon fell to blushing, thinking that his words were for her, and betwixt a frown and a smile spoke to him thus: "Peradventure, Hircan, that one whom you deem hard to be contented could find contentments enough if it was her humour; but let us leave those games at which only two can disport themselves, and think of some which all can play." Then said Hircan to all the ladies: "Since this wife of mine has understood so fairly what lay beneath my words, and since this privy play is not to her liking, I am assured that she, better than any other, can tell us of some pastime for all; and I do herewith profess myself of her mind, whatever it may be, and will in this matter be led entirely by her." And to this the whole company agreed. Whereupon Parlamente, seeing that the lot was fallen upon her, spoke as follows: "If I felt within me such parts as had the ancients, by whom were all arts invented, I would invent some game to discharge the duty that you have laid upon me; but knowing my wit and my ​power, how little it is, and scarce able so much as to call to mind how others have performed well this very thing, I shall esteem myself lucky if I can but follow in their steps. Among the rest I think, that there is not one of you who has not read those Hundred Novels of Boccaccio, lately done from the Italian into French. These did King Francis, first of his name, his Highness the Dauphin, the Princess his wife, and my lady Margaret of Navarre, esteem at such a price that if old Boccaccio could have heard them from the place where he is, he would have been, through the praises of such mighty folk, well-nigh brought to life again. And I hear that these two illustrious ladies have determined to make likewise a Decameron, but yet in one thing they will have it different from Boccaccio's—namely, every history therein contained shall be the truth. And their intent was that they, and his Highness with them, should each make ten stories, and afterwards should bring together ten persons whom they rated as most capable of telling them; but they would have no schoolmen or practised men of books, for his Highness must have nature and not art, and was in fear lest the truth of the histories might fare badly through odd-becoining tricks of rhetoric. But divers high affairs of state, as the peace between the King and the King of England, the bringing to bed of the Princess, and other matters of great consideration, have given all this scheme to forgetfulness at court; but by reason of the long delay we shall be able to accomplish it by the ten days in which the bridge is to be brought to a completion. And if it please you, every day from noon to four o'clock we will go to that pleasant meadow that is stretched along the Gave, where so thickly do the trees grow that the sun cannot pierce them through with his heat. There, seated at our ease, let each of us tell some story that he has either seen with his eyes or heard from the lips of a faithful witness. At the end of ten days we shall have summed up the hundred, and if God grants that our relations be pleasing to those lords and ladies aforesaid, we will lay them at their feet on our return from this journey in place of images or paternosters, to which I am assured they will be greatly preferred. Yet if any of you shall bring out a more pleasant pastime than this, to him I will give my vote." But all the company replied with one voice that than this there ​could be nothing better, and that they were weary for the morning to come, whereon to make a beginning of it.

So was this day joyously passed, one telling to another such notable things as he had seen in his life. But as soon as the morning was come, they went to the room of Oisille, whom they found at her prayers. And when for a full hour they had attended to her reading, and after this had devoutly heard mass, they went to dinner, it being now ten o'clock. And at noon they failed not, according to what had been determined, to go to the meadow, which was of such a sort that it would need Boccaccio himself to tell the pleasantness of it; but be you contented and know surely that never was there meadow to vie with it. And when all this company was seated in order on the grass, that was so fine and soft that no need was there of rugs or carpeting, Simontault began to say, "Who shall be the one to rule over us?" To whom Hircan: "Since you were the first to speak, it is fitting that you bear rule, for in the game we are all equal." "God knows," said Simontault, "that I would desire no bliss in the world so much as to bear rule over this company." This speech of his Parlamente understood so well that she was fain to cough that Hircan might not perceive the colour that came on to her cheeks; but she presently told Simontault to begin; and this he did.