Chapter 12

With this he laid his hand upon her breast. She tried to make some difficulty, but he begged her to have no fear, since they must indeed see each other more closely. And speaking in this wise, he took her in his arms and threw her upon the bed.

Then his wife, whose only company was the cross and the holy water, and who had not spoken for two days, began to cry out as loudly as her feeble voice enabled her--

“Ah! ah! ah! I am not dead yet!” And threatening them with her hand, she repeated--“Villain! monster! I am not dead yet!”

On hearing her voice, the husband and maid rose up, but she was in such a rage against them that her anger consumed the catarrhal humour that had prevented her from speaking, and she poured upon them all the abuse that she could think of. And from that hour she began to mend, though not without often reproaching her husband for the little love he bore her. (3)

3 This story was imitated by Noël du Fail de La Hérissaye in his _Contes d’Eutrapel_ (ch. v._ De la Goutte_), where the hero of the incident is called Glaume Esnaut de Tremeril. “It is said,” writes Du Fail, “that the wife of that rascal Glaume of Tremeril when at the point of death, on seeing Glaume too familiar with her serving-woman, recovered her senses, saying, ‘Ah! wicked man, I am not yet so low as you thought. By God’s grace, mistress baggage, you shall go forth at once.’” Curiously enough, the 1585 edition of the _Contes d’Eutrapel_ was printed at Rennes for Noël Glame, virtually the same name as Glaume.--M.

“By this you see, ladies, the hypocrisy of men, and how a little consolation will make them forget their sorrow for their wives.”

“How do you know,” said Hircan, “that he had not heard that such was the best remedy his wife could have? Since his kindly treatment availed not to cure her, he wished to try whether the opposite would prove any better, and the trial was a very fortunate one. But I marvel that you who are a woman should have shown how the constitution of your sex is brought to amendment rather by foul means than by fair.”

“Without doubt,” said Longarine, “behaviour of that kind would make me rise not merely from my bed, but from a grave such as that yonder.”

“And what wrong did he do her,” asked Saffre-dent, “by comforting himself when he thought that she was dead? It is known that the marriage-tie lasts only through life, and that when this is ended it is loosed.”

“Ay,” said Oisille, “loosed from oath and bond, but a good heart is never loosed from love. The husband you have told us of was indeed quick to forget his grief, since he could not wait until his wife had breathed her last.”

“What I think strangest of all,” said Nomerfide, “is that, when death and the cross were before his eyes, he should not have lost all desire to offend against God.”

“A brave argument!” said Simontault. “You would therefore not be surprised to see a man act wantonly provided he were a good distance from the church and cemetery?”

“You may laugh at me as much as you please,” said Nomerfide; “nevertheless the contemplation of death must greatly chill a heart, however young it may be.”

“I should indeed be of the same opinion as yourself,” said Dagoucin, “if I had not heard a Princess say the opposite.”

“In other words.” said Parlamente, “she told some story about it. If it be so, I will give you my place that you may relate it to us.”

Then Dagoucin began as follows:--

[The Monk Conversing with the Nun while Shrouding a Dead Body]

_TALE LXXII_.

_Whilst engaged in the last deed of charity, the shrouding of a dead body, a monk did also engage with a nun in the deeds of the flesh, and made her big with child_. (1)

In one of the finest towns of France after Paris there stood an hospital (2) richly endowed--namely, with a Prioress and fifteen or sixteen nuns, while in another building there was a Prior and seven or eight monks. Every day the monks said mass, but the nuns only their paternosters and the Hours of Our Lady, for they were occupied in tending the sick.

1 Gruget first printed this tale, which was not given by Boaistuau.--L.

2 It is impossible to say what town and hospital Margaret here refers to. Lyons is the scene of the latter part of the story; and we are inclined to think that the earlier incidents may have occurred at Dijon, where there was a famous hospital under ecclesiastical management, founded by Eudes III., seventh Duke of Burgundy.--L. and Ed.

One day it chanced that a poor man died, and the nuns, being all assembled with him, after giving him every remedy for his health, sent for one of their monks to confess him. Then, finding that he was growing weaker, they gave him the extreme unction, after which he little by little lost the power of speech.

But as he was a long time in passing away, and it seemed that he could still hear, the nuns continued speaking to him with the most comforting words they knew, until at last they grew weary, and, finding that night was come and that it was late, retired one after another to rest. Thus, to shroud the body, there remained only one of the youngest of the nuns, with a monk whom she feared more than the Prior or any other, by reason of the severity that he displayed in both speech and life.

When they had duly uttered their Hours in the poor man’s ear, they perceived that he was dead, and thereupon laid him out. Whilst engaged on this last deed of charity, the monk began to speak of the wretchedness of life, and the blessedness of death; and in such discourse they continued until after midnight.

The poor girl listened attentively to the monk’s pious utterances, looking at him the while with tears in her eyes; and so pleasing were these to him that, whilst speaking of the life to come, he began to embrace her as though he longed to bear her away in his arms to Paradise.

The poor girl, listening to his discourse and deeming him the most pious of the community, ventured not to say him nay.

Perceiving this, the wicked monk, whilst still speaking of God, accomplished with her the work which the devil suddenly put into their hearts--for before there had been no question of such a thing. He assured her, however, that secret sin was not imputed to men by God, and that two persons who had no ties, could do no wrong in this manner, when no scandal came of it; and, to avoid all scandal, he told her to be careful to confess to none but himself.

So they parted each from the other, she going first. And as she passed through a chapel dedicated to Our Lady, she was minded to make her prayer as was her wont. But when she began with the words, “Mary, Virgin,” she remembered that she had lost the title of virginity not through force or love, but through foolish fear; and she began to weep so bitterly that it seemed as if her heart must break.

The monk, hearing the sighing from a distance, suspected her repentance, which might make him lose his delight, and to prevent this, he came and, finding her prostrate before the image, began to rebuke her harshly, telling her that if she had any scruples of conscience she should confess herself to him, and that she need not so act again unless she desired; for she might behave in either way without sin. The foolish nun, thinking to make atonement to God, confessed herself to the monk; but in respect of penance he swore to her that she did no sin in loving him, and that holy water would suffice to wash away such a peccadillo.

Believing in him more than in God, she again some time afterwards yielded to him, and so became big with child. At this she was in deep grief, and entreated the Prioress to have the monk turned away from his monastery, saying that she knew him to be so crafty that he would not fail to seduce her. The Abbess and the Prior, who understood each other, laughed at her, saying that she was big enough to defend herself against a man, and that the monk she spoke of was too virtuous to do such a deed.

At last, urged by the prickings of her conscience, she craved license to go to Rome, for she thought that, by confessing her sin at the Pope’s feet, she might recover her virginity. This the Prior and Prioress very readily granted her, for they were more willing that she should become a pilgrim contrary to the rules of her order, than be shut up in the convent with her present scruples. They feared also that in her despair she might denounce the life that was led among them, and so gave her money for her journey.

But God brought it to pass that when she came to Lyons, my lady the Duchess of Alençon, afterwards Queen of Navarre, being one evening after vespers in the roodloft of the church of St. John, whither she came secretly to perform a novena with three or four of her women, (3) heard someone mounting the stairway whilst she was kneeling before the crucifix. By the light of the lamp she saw it was a nun, and in order that she might hear her devotions, the Duchess thereupon withdrew to the corner of the altar. The nun, who believed herself to be alone, knelt down and, beating her breast, began weeping so sorrowfully that it was piteous to hear her; and all the while she cried naught but this--“Alas! my God, take pity on this poor sinner.”

3 See _ante_, Tale LXV., note i.

The Duchess, wishing to learn what it meant, went up to her and said, “Dear heart, what ails you, and whence do you come, and what brings you to this place?”

The poor nun, who did not know her, replied, “Ah, sweet, my woe is such that I have no help but in God; and I pray that He may bring me to speak with the Duchess of Alençon. To her alone will I tell the matter, for I am sure that, if it be possible, she will set it right.”

“Dear heart,” then said the Duchess, “you may speak to me as you would to her, for I am one of her nearest friends.”

“Forgive me,” said the nun; “she alone must know my secret.”

Then the Duchess told her that she might speak freely, since she had indeed found her whom she sought. Forthwith the poor woman threw herself at her feet, and, after she had wept, related what you have heard concerning her hapless fortune. The Duchess consoled her so well, that whilst she took not from her everlasting repentance for her sin, she put from her mind the journeying to Rome, and then sent her back to her priory with letters to the Bishop of the place to have that shameful monk turned away.

“I have this story from the Duchess herself, and from it you may see, ladies, that Nomerfide’s prescription is not good for all, since these persons fell into lewdness even while touching and laying out the dead.”

“‘Twas a device,” said Hircan, “that methinks no man ever used before, to talk of death and engage in the deeds of life.”

“‘Tis no deed of life,” said Oisille, “to sin, for it is well known that sin begets death.”

“You may be sure,” said Saffredent, “that these poor folk gave no thought to any such theology; but just as the daughters of Lot made their father drunk so that the human race might be preserved, so these persons wished to repair what death had spoiled, and to replace the dead body by a new one. I therefore can see no harm in the matter except the tears of the poor nun, who was always weeping and always returning to the cause of her tears.”

“I have known many of the same kind,” said Hircan, “who wept for their sins and laughed at their pleasures both together.”

“I think I know whom you mean,” said Parlamente, “and their laughter has lasted so great a while that ‘twere time the tears should begin.”

“Hush!” said Hircan. “The tragedy that has begun with laughter is not ended yet.”

“To change the subject,” said Parlamente, “it seems to me that Dagoucin departed from our purpose. We were to tell only merry tales, and his was very piteous.”

“You said,” replied Dagoucin, “that you would only tell of follies, and I think that herein I have not been lacking. But, that we may hear a more pleasant story, I give my vote to Nomerfide, in the hope that she will make amends for my error.”

“I have indeed,” she answered, “a story ready which is worthy to follow yours; for it speaks of monks and death. So I pray you give good heed.”

_Here end the Tales and Novels of the late Queen of Navarre, that is, all that can be recovered of them_.

APPENDIX.

THE SUPPOSED NARRATORS OF THE _HEPTAMERON_ TALES.

In his introductory essay to this translation of the _Heptameron_, Mr. George Saintsbury has called attention to the researches of various commentators who have laboured to identify the supposed narrators of Queen Margaret’s tales. As it may be fairly assumed that the setting of the work is pure invention on the Queen’s part, the researches in question can scarcely serve any useful purpose. Still they appear to have had considerable attraction for several erudite editors, whose opinions, occasionally alluded to in our notes, we will here briefly summarise for the information of those whom the matter may interest:--

OISILLE, a widow lady of long experience, is supposed by Messrs. de Lincy, Lacroix, Génin, Frank, de Montaiglon and Miss Mary Robinson to be Louise of Savoy. In some MSS. the name is written Osyle, the anagram of _Loyse_, in which fashion Louise was spelt in old French. It may be pointed out, _en passant_, that Brantôme’s grandmother, the Sénéchale of Poitou, whose connection with the _Heptameron_ is recorded, was also named Louise (see ante, vol. i. p. lxxxii.).

PARLAMENTE, wife of Hircan, is supposed by the same commentators to be Queen Margaret herself; this is assumed mainly because the views which Parlamente expresses on religion, philosophy, men and women, are generally in accord with those which the Queen is known to have professed.

HIRCAN, in M. de Lincy’s opinion, might be the Duke of Alençon, Margaret’s first husband. Messrs. Frank and Mont-aiglon, following M. Lacroix, prefer to identify him as Henry d’Albret, King of Navarre. They conjecture the name of Hircan to be derived from Ilanricus, a not uncommon fashion of spelling Henricus. It might, however, simply come from _hircus_, a he-goat, for Hircan is a man of gross, sensual tastes.

LONGARINE, a young widow, is supposed by M. de Lincy to be Blanche de Chastillon, _née_ de Tournon (concerning whom see _ante_, vol. i. p. 84, n. 7, and p. 120 _et seq_.; vol. iv. p. 144, n. 2; and vol. v. p. 25, n. 2). M. Frank, however, thinks she is Aimée Motier de la Fayette, lady of _Longray_, widow of Francis de Silly, Bailiff of Caen, and _gouvernante_ to Queen Margaret’s daughter, Jane of Navarre. Miss Robinson shares this opinion, but M. de Montaiglon thinks that _Longarine_ would rather be Aimée Motier de la Fayette’s daughter Frances, married to Frederic d’Almenesches, of one of the branches of the house of Foix.

SIMONTAULT (occasionally _Symontaut_), a young knight, is thought by M. de Lincy to be Henry d’Albret, Margaret’s second husband, who was of an extremely amorous disposition, and much younger than herself. Messrs. Frank and de Montaiglon, however, fancy _Simontault_ to have been Francis, Baron de Bourdeilles, father of Brantôme. It is admitted, however, that if this be the case, it is curious that Brantôme should not have alluded to it in any of his writings, whereas he does speak both of his mother and of his grandmother in connection with the _Heptameron_.

ENNASUITE (occasionally _Ennasuitte_ or _Ennasuicte_, and in some MSS. _Emarsuite_), is supposed by Messrs. de Lincy, Frank, and de Montaiglon to be Anne de Vivonne, wife of Francis de Bourdeilles and mother of Brantôme (see ante, vol. iv. p. 144, n. 2). It is pointed out that the name may be transformed into the three words _Anne et suite_.

DAGOUCIN, a young gentleman, is thought by M. Frank to be Nicholas Dangu (see ante, vol. i. p. 20, n. 4, and p. 40, n. 3), who became Chancellor to the King of Navarre. M. Lacroix, however, fancies this personage to be a Count d’Agoust.

GEBURON, apparently an elderly man, would in M. Frank’s opinion be the Seigneur de Burye, a captain of the Italian wars to whom Brantôme (his cousin-german) alludes in his writings. The name of de Burye is also found in a list of the personages present at Queen Margaret’s funeral. M. de Montaiglon shares M. Frank’s views.

NOMERFIDE, so M. de Lincy suggests, may have been the famous Frances de Foix, Countess of Chateaubriand; but M. Frank opines that she is a Demoiselle de Fimarcon or Fiédmarcon (Lat. _Feudimarco_), who in 1525 married John de Montpczat, called “Captain Carbon,” one of the exquisites of the famous Field of the cloth of gold. Miss Robinson, however, fancies that Nomerfide is Isabel d’Albret, sister of Margaret’s second husband, and wife of René de Rohan.

SAFFREDENT, so M. de Lincy thinks, may be Admiral de Bonnivet; M. Frank suggests John de Montpezat; and Miss Robinson René de Rohan, who, after his father Peter de Rohan-Gié (husband of Rolandine, see _ante_, vol. iii., Tale XXI, notes 2 and 15), had been killed at Pavia, was for some years entrusted to Queen Margaret’s care. As Miss Robinson points out, _Saffredent_ literally means greedy tooth or sweet tooth.

Those who may be desirous of studying and comparing these various attempts at identification, will find all the evidence and arguments of any value set forth in the writings of M. Frank, M. de Montaiglon and Miss Robinson, which are specified in the Bibliography annexed to this appendix.--Ed.

BIBLIOGRAPHY.

Fourteen MS. copies of the _Heptameron_ are known to exist. Twelve of these are at the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, one is at the town library of Orleans, and one in the Vatican library. We also have some record of four other copies which were in private libraries at the end of the last century.

The twelve MSS. at the Bibliothèque Nationale are the following:--

I. (No. 1511 in the catalogue). A folio volume bound in red morocco, bearing the Béthune arms. This MS. is on ruled paper, and only one leaf, the last, is missing.

II. (No. 1512). A small folio, calf gilt, 350 leaves, from Colbert’s library. The handwriting is that of the middle of the sixteeenth century, and is the same throughout; the last page bearing the signature “Doulcet.” This supplied the text followed in the present translation.

III. (No. 1513). A small folio, half-bound in red morocco, stamped with King Louis Philippe’s monogram. It contains only twenty-eight of the tales.

IV. (No. 1514). A large quarto, calf, from the De Mesmes library. Contains only thirty-four of the tales.

V. (No. 1515). A small folio from Colbert’s library, bound in calf, in Groslier’s style. The text is complete, but there are numerous interlinear and marginal corrections and additions, in the same handwriting as MS. VII.

VI. (Nos. 1516 to 1519). Four quarto vols., red morocco, Béthune arms. The first prologue is deficient, as is also the last leaf of tale lxxi.

VII. (No. 1520). A folio vol., calf and red morocco, stamped with fleurs-de-lys and the monogram of Louis XVIII. This MS. on stout ruled paper, in a beautiful italic handwriting of the end of the sixteenth century, is complete. Unfortunately Queen Margaret’s phraseology has been considerably modified, though, on the other hand, the copyist has inserted a large number of different readings, as marginal notes, which render his work of great value. It is frequently quoted in the present translation.

VIII. (No. 1523). A folio vol., calf, from the De La Marre library. The first two leaves are deficient, and the text ends with the fifth tale of Day IV.

IX. (No. 1522). A small folio, bound in parchment, from the De La Marre library. Only the tales of the first four days are complete, and on folio 259 begins a long poem called Les Prisons, the work probably of William Filandrier, whom Queen Margaret protected. On the first folio of the volume is the inscription, in sixteenth-century handwriting: _Pour ma sour Marie Philander_. The poem _Les Prisons_ is quoted on pp. xxxviii.-ix. vol. i. of the present work. It concludes with an epitaph on Margaret, dated 1549.

X. (No. 1524). A folio vol. from Colbert’s library, bound in red and yellow morocco, on which is painted, on a blue ground, a vine laden with grapes twining round the trunk of a tree. On either side and in gold letters is the device, _Sin e doppo la morte_ (until and after death). Following the title-page, on which the work is called “The Decameron of the most high and most illustrious Princess, Madame Margaret of France,” is a curious preface signed “Adrian de Thou,” and dated “Paris, August 8, 1553.” This Adrian de Thou, Lord of Hierville and canon of Notre Dame de Paris, counsellor and clerk of the Paris Parliament, was the fourth son of Augustine de Thou and uncle to James Augustus de Thou, the historian. He died in October 1570. His MS. of the _Heptameron_, a most beautiful specimen of caligraphy, contains a long table of various readings and obscure passages; this was consulted in preparing the text for the present translation. The titles to the tales have also been borrowed from this MS.; they were composed by De Thou himself, and figure in no other MS. copy.

XI. (No. 1525). A small folio, calf, from Colbert’s library, very incomplete and badly written, but containing the _Miroir de Jésu Crist crucifié_, the last poem Queen Margaret composed (see _ante_, vol. i. p. lxxxvi.).

XII. (No. 2155). A small quarto, red morocco, from the library of Mazarin, whose escutcheon has been cut off. The text, which is complete and correct, excepting that a portion of the prologue has been accidentally transposed, is followed by an epitaph on the Queen. The handwriting throughout is that of the end of the sixteenth century.

The other MSS. of the _Heptameron_ are the following:--

XIII. (Orleans town library, No. 352). A folio vol. of 440 pp. It is doubtful whether this MS. is of the sixteenth or seventeenth century. It bears the title _L’Heptaméron des Nouvelles, &c_. There are numerous deficiencies in the text.

XIV. (Vatican library, No. 929; from the library of Queen Christina of Sweden). A folio vol., calf, 95 leaves, handwriting of the end of the sixteenth century. This only contains fifteen of the stories.

XV. (present possessor unknown). A folio vol., red morocco; text (ending with tale lxix. ) in sixteenth-century handwriting, with illuminated initial letters to each tale. _Catalogue des livres de feue Mme. la Comtesse de Verrue_, Paris, G. Martin, 1737.

XVI. (possessor unknown). MS. supposed to be the original, a large folio, handwriting of the period, antique binding, containing the seventy-two tales. _Catalogue des livres, &c., du cabinet de M. Filheul, &c._, Paris, Chardin, 1779, pp. xxi. and 280.

XVII. (possessor unknown). A folio vol., blue morocco, gilt. No. 1493 in the catalogue of the _Bibliothèque de Simon Bernard, chez Barrois_, Paris, 1734; and No. 213 in a _Catalogue de manuscrits intéressants qui seront vendus... en la maison de M. Gueret, notaire_, Paris, Debure fils jeune, 1776.

XVIII. (possessor unknown). A folio vol., blue morocco, gilt, stamped with the arms of France, from the Randon de Boisset library; the seventy-two tales complete, a very fine copy. _Catalogue des livres de la bibliothèqzie de l’Abbé Rive_, Marseilles, 1793. (This MS. should not be confounded with No. xvii. See L. J. Hubaud’s _Dissertation sur les Contes de la Reine de Navarre_, Marseilles, 1850.)

The following are the editions of Queen Margaret’s tales issued from the press from the sixteenth century to the present time. The list has been prepared with great care, and we believe it to be as complete a one as can be furnished; it includes several editions not mentioned in Brunet’s Manual:--