The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. III. (of V.) Read online

  _TALE XXI_.

  _Having remained unmarried until she was thirty years of age, Rolandine, recognising her father's neglect and her mistress's disfavour, fell so deeply in love with a bastard gentleman that she promised him marriage; and this being told to her father he treated her with all the harshness imaginable, in order to make her consent to the dissolving of the marriage; but she continued steadfast in her love until she had received certain tidings of the Bastard's death, when she was wedded to a gentleman who bore the same name and arms as did her own family_.

  There was in France a Queen (1) who brought up in her household severalmaidens belonging to good and noble houses. Among others there was onecalled Rolandine, (2) who was near akin to the Queen; but the latter,being for some reason unfriendly with the maiden's father, showed her nogreat kindness.

  Now, although this maiden was not one of the fairest--nor yet indeed wasshe of the ugliest--she was nevertheless so discreet and virtuous thatmany persons of great consequence sought her in marriage. They had,however, but a cold reply; for the father (3) was so fond of his moneythat he gave no thought to his daughter's welfare, while her mistress,as I have said, bore her but little favour, so that she was sought bynone who desired to be advanced in the Queen's good graces.

  1 This is evidently Anne of Brittany, elder daughter of Duke Francis II. and wife in turn of Charles VIII. and Louis XII. Brantome says: "She was the first to form that great Court of ladies which we have seen since her time until now; she always had a very great suite of ladies and maids, and never refused fresh ones; far from it, indeed, for she would inquire of the noblemen at Court if they had daughters, and would ask that they might be sent to her."--Lalanne's _OEuvres de Brantome_, vol. vii. p. 314--L.

  2 This by the consent of all the commentators is Anne de Rohan, elder daughter of John II. Viscount de Rohan, Count of Porhoet, Leon and La Garnache, by Mary of Brittany, daughter of Duke Francis I. The date of Anne de Rohan's birth is not exactly known, but she is said to have been about thirty years of age at the time of the tale, though the incidents related extend over a somewhat lengthy period. However, we know that Anne was ultimately married to Peter de Rohan in 1517, when, according to her marriage contract, she was over thirty-six years old (_Les Preuves de Histoire ecclesiastique et civile de Bretagne_, 1756, vol. v. col. 940). From this we may assume that she was thirty in or about 1510. The historical incidents alluded to in the tale would, however, appear to have occurred (as will be shown by subsequent notes) between 1507 and 1509, and we are of opinion that the Queen of Navarre has made her heroine rather older than she really was, and that the story indeed begins in or about 1505, when Rolandine can have been little more than five or six and twenty.--Ed.

  3 See notes to Tale XL. (vol. iv).

  Thus, owing to her father's neglect and her mistress's disdain, the poormaiden continued unmarried for a long while; and this at last made hersad at heart, not so much because she longed to be married as becauseshe was ashamed at not being so, wherefore she forsook the vanities andpomps of the Court and gave herself up wholly to the worship of God. Hersole delight consisted in prayer or needlework, and thus in retirementshe passed her youthful years, living in the most virtuous and holymanner imaginable.

  Now, when she was approaching her thirtieth year, there was at Court agentleman who was a Bastard of a high and noble house; (4) he was one ofthe pleasantest comrades and most worshipful men of his day, but he waswholly without fortune, and possessed of such scant comeliness that nolady would have chosen him for her lover.

  4 One cannot absolutely identify this personage; but judging by what is said of him in the story--that he came of a great house, that he was very brave but poor, neither rich enough to marry Rolandine nor handsome enough to be made a lover of, and that a lady, who was a near relative of his, came to the Court after his intrigue had been going on for a couple of years--he would certainly appear to be John, Bastard of Angoulome, a natural son of Count John the Good, and consequently half-brother to Charles of Angoulome ( who married Louise of Savoy) and uncle to Francis I. and Queen Margaret. In Pere Anselme's _Histoire Genealogique de la Maison de France_, vol. i. p. 210 B. there is a record of the letters of legitimisation granted to the Bastard of Angouleme at his father's request in June 1458, and M. Paul Lacroix points out that if Rolandine's secret marriage to him took place in or about 1508, he would then have been about fifty years old, hardly the age for a lover. The Bastard is, however, alluded to in the tale as a man of mature years, and as at the outset of the intrigue (1505) he would have been but forty-seven, we incline with M. de Lincy to the belief that he is the hero of it.--Eu.

  Thus this poor gentleman had continued unmated, and as one unfortunateoften seeks out another, he addressed himself to Rolandine, whosefortune, temper and condition were like his own. And while they wereengaged in mutually lamenting their woes, they became very fond of eachother, and finding that they were companions in misfortune, sought outone another everywhere, so that they might exchange consolation, in thiswise setting on foot a deep and lasting attachment.

  Those who had known Rolandine so very retiring that she would speakto none, were now greatly shocked on seeing her unceasingly with thewell-born Bastard, and told her governess that she ought not to suffertheir long talks together. The governess, therefore, remonstrated withRolandine, and told her that every one was shocked at her conversing sofreely with a man who was neither rich enough to marry her nor handsomeenough to be her lover.

  To this Rolandine, who had always been rebuked rather for austerenessthan for worldliness, replied--

  "Alas, mother, you know that I cannot have a husband of my owncondition, and that I have always shunned such as are handsome andyoung, fearing to fall into the same difficulties as others. And sincethis gentleman is discreet and virtuous, as you yourself know, and tellsme nothing that is not honourable and right, what harm can I have doneto you and to those that have spoken of the matter, by seeking from himsome consolation in my grief?"

  The poor old woman, who loved her mistress more than she loved herself,replied--

  "I can see, my lady, that you speak the truth, and know that you are nottreated by your father and mistress as you deserve to be. Nevertheless,since people are speaking about your honour in this way, you ought toconverse with him no longer, even were he your own brother."

  "Mother," said Rolandine, "if such be your counsel I will observe it;but 'tis a strange thing to be wholly without consolation in the world."

  The Bastard came to talk with her according to his wont, but she toldhim everything that her governess had said to her, and, shedding tears,besought him to have no converse with her for a while, until the rumourshould be past and gone; and to this he consented at her request.

  Being thus cut off from all consolation, they both began, however, tofeel such torment during their separation as neither had ever knownbefore. For her part she did not cease praying to God, journeying andfasting; for love, heretofore unknown to her, caused her such exceedingdisquiet as not to leave her an hour's repose. The well-born Bastard wasno better off; but, as he had already resolved in his heart to loveher and try to wed her, and had thought not only of his love but ofthe honour that it would bring him if he succeeded in his design, hereflected that he must devise a means of making his love known to herand, above all, of winning the governess to his side. This last he didby protesting to her the wretchedness of her poor mistress, who wasbeing robbed of all consolation. At this the old woman, with many tears,thanked him for the honourable affection that he bore her mistress, andthey took counsel together how he might speak with her. They plannedthat Rolandine should often feign to suffer from headache, to whichnoise is exceedingly distressful; so that, when her companions went intothe Queen's apartment, she an
d the Bastard might remain alone, and inthis way hold converse together.

  The Bastard was overjoyed at this, and, guiding himself wholly by thegoverness's advice, had speech with his sweetheart whensoever he would.However, this contentment lasted no great while, for the Queen, who hadbut little love for Rolandine, inquired what she did so constantlyin her room. Some one replied that it was on account of sickness, butanother, who possessed too good a memory for the absent, declared thatthe pleasure she took in speaking with the Bastard must needs cause herheadache to pass away.

  The Queen, who deemed the venial sins of others to be mortal ones inRolandine, sent for her and forbade her ever to speak to the Bastardexcept it were in the royal chamber or hall. The maiden gave no sign,but replied--

  "Had I known, madam, that he or any one beside were displeasing to you,I should never have spoken to him."

  Nevertheless she secretly cast about to find some other plan of whichthe Queen should know nothing, and in this she was successful. OnWednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays she was wont to fast, and would thenstay with her governess in her own room, where, while the others wereat supper, she was free to speak with the man whom she was beginning tolove so dearly.

  The more they were compelled to shorten their discourse, the morelovingly did they talk; for they stole the time even as a robber stealssomething that is of great worth. But, in spite of all their secrecy, aserving-man saw the Bastard go into the room one fast day, and reportedthe matter in a quarter where it was not concealed from the Queen. Thelatter was so wroth that the Bastard durst enter the ladies' room nomore. Yet, that he might not lose the delight of converse with his love,he often made a pretence of going on a journey, and returned in theevening to the church or chapel of the castle (5) dressed as a GreyFriar or a Jacobin, or disguised so well in some other way that nonecould know him; and thither, attended by her governess, Rolandine wouldgo to have speech with him.

  5 This would be either the chateau of Amboise or that of Blois, we are inclined to think the latter, as Louis XII. more frequently resided there.--Ed.

  Then, seeing how great was the love she bore him, he feared not to say--

  "You see, fair lady, what risk I run in your service, and how the Queenhas forbidden you to speak with me. You see, further, what manner ofman is your father, who has no thought whatsoever of bestowing you inmarriage. He has rejected so many excellent suitors, that I know ofnone, whether near or far, that can win you. I know that I am poor, andthat you could not wed a gentleman that were not richer than I; yet,if love and good-will were counted wealth, I should hold myself for therichest man on earth. God has given you great wealth, and you are liketo have even more. Were I so fortunate as to be chosen for your husband,I would be your husband, lover and servant all my life long; whereas,if you take one of equal consideration with yourself--and such a oneit were hard to find--he will seek to be the master, and will havemore regard for your wealth than for your person, and for the beautyof others than for your virtue; and, whilst enjoying the use of yourwealth, he will fail to treat you, yourself, as you deserve. And now mylonging to have this delight, and my fear that you will have none suchwith another, impel me to pray that you will make me a happy man, andyourself the most contented and best treated wife that ever lived."

  When Rolandine heard the very words that she herself had purposedspeaking to him, she replied with a glad countenance--

  "I am well pleased that you have been the first to speak such words asI had a long while past resolved to say to you. For the two years thatI have known you I have never ceased to turn over in my mind all thearguments for you and against you that I was able to devise; but nowthat I am at last resolved to enter into the married state, it is timethat 1 should make a beginning and choose some one with whom I may lookto dwell with tranquil mind. And I have been able to find none, whetherhandsome, rich, or nobly born, with whom my heart and soul could agreeexcepting yourself alone. I know that in marrying you I shall not offendGod, but rather do what He enjoins, while as to his lordship my father,he has regarded my welfare so little, and has rejected so many offers,that the law suffers me to marry without fear of being disinherited;though, even if I had only that which is now mine, I should, in marryingsuch a husband as you, account myself the richest woman in the world. Asto the Queen, my mistress, I need have no qualms in displeasing herin order to obey God, for never had she any in hindering me from anyblessing that I might have had in my youth. But, to show you that thelove I bear you is founded upon virtue and honour, you must promise thatif I agree to this marriage, you will not seek its consummation until myfather be dead, or until I have found a means to win his consent."

  To this the Bastard readily agreed, whereupon they exchanged rings intoken of marriage, and kissed each other in the church in the presenceof God, calling upon Him to witness their promise; and never afterwardswas there any other familiarity between them save kissing only.

  This slender delight gave great content to the hearts of these twoperfect lovers; and, secure in their mutual affection, they lived forsome time without seeing each other. There was scarcely any place wherehonour might be won to which the Bastard did not go, rejoicing that hecould not now continue a poor man, seeing that God had bestowed on hima rich wife; and she during his absence steadfastly cherished theirperfect love, and made no account of any other living man. And althoughthere were some who asked her in marriage, the only answer they had ofher was that, since she had remained unwedded for so long a time, shedesired to continue so for ever. (6)

  6 The speeches of Rolandine and the Bastard should be compared with some of Clement Marot's elegies, notably with one in which he complains of having been surprised while conversing with his mistress in a church.--B. J.

  This reply came to the ears of so many people, that the Queen heard ofit and asked her why she spoke in that way. Rolandine replied that itwas done in obedience to herself, who had never been pleased to marryher to any man who would have well and comfortably provided for her;accordingly, being taught by years and patience to be content with herpresent condition, she would always return a like answer whensoever anyone spoke to her of marriage.

  When the wars were over, (7) and the Bastard had returned to Court, shenever spoke to him in presence of others, but always repaired tosome church and there had speech with him under pretence of going toconfession; for the Queen had forbidden them both, under penalty ofdeath, to speak together except in public. But virtuous love, whichrecks naught of such a ban, was more ready to find them means of speechthan were their enemies to spy them out; the Bastard disguised himselfin the habit of every monkish order he could think of, and thus theirvirtuous intercourse continued, until the King repaired to a pleasurehouse he had near Tours. (8)

  7 The wars here referred to would be one or another of Louis XII.'s Italian expeditions, probably that of 1507, when the battle of Aignadel was fought.--Ed.

  8 This would no doubt be the famous chateau of Plessis-lez- Tours, within a mile of Tours, and long the favourite residence of Louis XI. Louis XII. is known to have sojourned at Plessis in 1507, at the time when the States-general conferred upon him the title of "Father of the People." English tourists often visit Plessis now adays in memory of Scott's "Quentin Durward," but only a few shapeless ruins of the old structure are left.--M. and Ed.

  This, however, was not near enough for the ladies to go on foot to anyother church but that of the castle, which was built in such a fashionthat it contained no place of concealment in which the confessor wouldnot have been plainly recognised.

  But if one opportunity failed them, love found them another and aneasier one, for there came to the Court a lady to whom the Bastardwas near akin. This lady was lodged, together with her son, (9) in theKing's abode; and the young Prince's room projected from the rest of theKing's apartments in such a way that from his window it was possible tosee and to speak to Rolandine, for his window and hers were just at theangle m
ade by the two wings of the house.

  9 This lady would be Louise of Savoy. She first came to the Court at Amboise in 1499, a circumstance which has led some commentators to place the incidents of this story at that date. But she was at Blois on various occasions between 1507 and 1509, to negotiate and attend the marriage of her daughter Margaret with the Duke of Alencon. Louis XII. having gone from Blois to Plessis in 1507, Louise of Savoy may well have followed him thither. Her son was, of course, the young Duke de Valois, afterwards Francis I.--Ed.

  In this room of hers, which was over the King's presence-chamber, allthe noble damsels that were Rolandine's companions were lodged with her.She, having many times observed the young Prince at his window, madethis known to the Bastard through her governess; and he, having madecareful observation of the place, feigned to take great pleasure inreading a book about the Knights of the Round Table (10) which was inthe Prince's room.

  10 Romances of chivalry were much sought after at this time. Not merely were there MS. copies of these adorned with miniatures, but we find that _L'Histoire du Saint Greai, La Vie et les Propheties de Merlin, and Les Merveilleux Faits et Gestes du Noble Chevalier Lancelot du Lac_ were printed in France in the early years of the sixteenth century.--B.J.

  And when every one was going to dinner, he would beg a valet to let himfinish his reading, shut up in the room, over which he promised to keepgood guard. The servants knew him to be a kinsman of his master and oneto be trusted, let him read as much as he would. Rolandine, on her part,would then come to her window; and, so that she might be able to makea long stay at it, she pretended to have an infirmity in the leg, andaccordingly dined and supped so early that she no longer frequented theladies' table. She likewise set herself to work a coverlet of crimsonsilk, (11) and fastened it at the window, where she desired to be alone;and, when she saw that none was by, she would converse with her husband,who contrived to speak in such a voice as could not be overheard; andwhenever any one was coming, she would cough and make a sign, so thatthe Bastard might withdraw in good time.

  11 In the French, "_Ung lut de reseul:" reticella--i.e._, a kind of open work embroidery very fashionable in those days, and the most famous designers of which were Frederic Vinciolo, Dominic de Sara, and John Cousin the painter. Various sixteenth and seventeenth century books on needlework, still extant, give some curious information concerning this form of embroidery.--M.

  Those who kept watch upon them felt sure that their love was past, forshe never stirred from the room in which, as they thought, he couldassuredly never see her, since it was forbidden him to enter it.

  One day, however, the young Prince's mother, (12) being in her son'sroom, placed herself at the window where this big book lay, and hadnot long been there when one of Rolandine's companions, who was at thewindow in the opposite room, greeted her and spoke to her. The ladyasked her how Rolandine did; whereon the other replied that she mightsee her if she would, and brought her to the window in her nightcap.Then, when they had spoken together about her sickness, they withdrewfrom the window on either side.

  12 Louise of Savoy.

  The lady, observing the big book about the Round Table, said to theservant who had it in his keeping--

  "I am surprised that young folk can waste their time in reading suchfoolishness."

  The servant replied that he marvelled even more that people accountedsensible and of mature age should have a still greater liking for itthan the young; and he told her, as matter for wonderment, how hercousin the Bastard would spend four or five hours each day in readingthis fine book. Straightway there came into the lady's mind thereason why he acted thus, and she charged the servant to hide himselfsomewhere, and take account of what the Bastard might do. This the mandid, and found that the Bastard's book was the window to which Rolandinecame to speak with him, and he, moreover, heard many a love-speech whichthey had thought to keep wholly secret.

  On the morrow he related this to his mistress, who sent for the Bastard,and after chiding him forbade him to return to that place again; and inthe evening she spoke of the matter to Rolandine, and threatened, if shepersisted in this foolish love, to make all these practices known to theQueen.

  Rolandine, whom nothing could dismay, vowed that in spite of all thatfolks might say she had never spoken to him since her mistress hadforbidden her to do so, as might be learned both from her companions andfrom her servants and attendants. And as for the window, she declaredthat she had never spoken at it to the Bastard. He, however, fearingthat the matter had been discovered, withdrew out of harm's way, and wasa long time without returning to Court, though not without writing toRolandine, and this in so cunning a manner that, in spite of the Queen'svigilance, never a week went by but she twice heard from him.

  When he no longer found it possible to employ monks as messengers, ashe had done at first, he would send a little page, dressed now in onecolour and now in another; and the page used to stand at the doorwaysthrough which the ladies were wont to pass, and deliver his letterssecretly in the throng. But one day, when the Queen was going out intothe country, it chanced that one who was charged to look after thismatter recognised the page, and hastened after him; but he, beingkeen-witted and suspecting that he was being pursued, entered the houseof a poor woman who was boiling her pot on the fire, and there forthwithburned his letters. The gentleman who followed him stripped him nakedand searched through all his clothes; but he could find nothing, and solet him go. And the boy being gone, the old woman asked the gentlemanwhy he had so searched him.

  "To find some letters," he replied, "which I thought he had upon him."

  "You could by no means have found them," said the old woman, "they weretoo well hidden for that."

  "I pray you," said the gentleman, in the hope of getting them beforelong, "tell me where they were."

  However, when he heard that they had been thrown into the fire, heperceived that the page had proved more crafty than himself, andforthwith made report of the matter to the Queen.

  From that time, however, the Bastard no longer employed the page or anyother child, but sent an old servant of his, who, laying aside all fearof the death which, as he well knew, was threatened by the Queen againstall such as should interfere in this matter, undertook to carry hismaster's letters to Rolandine. And having come to the castle where shewas, he posted himself on the watch at the foot of a broad staircase,beside a doorway through which all the ladies were wont to pass. But aserving-man, who had aforetime seen him, knew him again immediately andreported the matter to the Queen's Master of the Household, who quicklycame to arrest him. However, the discreet and wary servant, seeing thathe was being watched from a distance, turned towards the wall asthough he desired to make water, and tearing the letter he had intothe smallest possible pieces, threw them behind a door. Immediatelyafterwards he was taken and thoroughly searched, and nothing being foundon him, they asked him on his oath whether he had not brought letters,using all manner of threats and persuasions to make him confess thetruth; but neither by promises nor threats could they draw anything fromhim.

  Report of this having been made to the Queen, some one in the companybethought him that it would be well to look behind the door near whichthe man had been taken. This was done, and they found what they sought,namely the pieces of the letter. Then the King's confessor was sent for,and he, having put the pieces together on a table, read the whole of theletter, in which the truth of the marriage, that had been so carefullyconcealed, was made manifest; for the Bastard called Rolandine nothingbut "wife." The Queen, who was in no mind, as she should have been, tohide her neighbour's transgressions, made a great ado about the matter,and commanded that all means should be employed to make the poor manconfess the truth of the letter. And indeed, when they showed it to him,he could not deny it; but for all they could say or show, he would sayno more than at first. Those who had him in charge thereupon brought himto the brink of th
e river, and put him into a sack, declaring that hehad lied to God and to the Queen, contrary to proven truth. But he wasminded to die rather than accuse his master, and asked for a confessor;and when he had eased his conscience as well as might be, he said tothem--

  "Good sirs, I pray you tell the Bastard, my master, that I commend thelives of my wife and children to him, for right willingly do I yield upmy own in his service. You may do with me what you will, for never shallyou draw from me a word against my master."

  Thereupon, all the more to affright him, they threw him in the sack intothe water, calling to him--

  "If you will tell the truth, you shall be saved."

  Finding, however, that he answered nothing, they drew him out again, andmade report of his constancy to the Queen, who on hearing of it declaredthat neither the King nor herself were so fortunate in their followersas was this gentleman the Bastard, though he lacked even the means torequite them. She then did all that she could to draw the servant intoher own service, but he would by no means consent to forsake his master.However, by the latter's leave, he at last entered the Queen's service,in which he lived in happiness and contentment.

  The Queen, having learnt the truth of the marriage from the Bastard'sletter, sent for Rolandine, whom with a wrathful countenance she severaltimes called "wretch" instead of "cousin," reproaching her with theshame that she had brought both upon her father's house and her mistressby thus marrying without her leave or commandment.

  Rolandine, who had long known what little love her mistress bore her,gave her but little in return. Moreover, since there was no love betweenthem, neither was there fear; and as Rolandine perceived that thisreprimand, given her in presence of several persons, was prompted lessby affection than by a desire to put her to shame, and that the Queenfelt more pleasure in chiding her than grief at finding her in fault,she replied with a countenance as glad and tranquil as the Queen's wasdisturbed and wrathful--

  "If, madam, you did not know your own heart, such as it is, I would setforth to you the ill-will that you have long borne my father (13) andmyself; but you do, indeed, know this, and will not deem it strange thatall the world should have an inkling of it too. For my own part, madam,I have perceived it to my dear cost, for had you been pleased to favourme equally as you favour those who are not so near to you as myself, Iwere now married to your honour as well as to my own; but you passedme over as one wholly a stranger to your favour, and so all the goodmatches I might have made passed away before my eyes, through myfather's neglect and the slenderness of your regard. By reason of thistreatment I fell into such deep despair, that, had my health been strongenough in any sort to endure a nun's condition, I would have willinglyentered upon it to escape from the continual griefs your harshnessbrought me.

  13 Of all those with pretensions to the Duchy of Brittany, the Viscount de Rohan had doubtless the best claim, though he met with the least satisfaction. It was, however, this reason that led the Queen [Anne of Brittany] to treat him with such little regard. It was with mingled grief and resentment that this proud princess realised how real were the Viscount's rights; moreover, she never forgave him for having taken up arms against her in favour of France; and seeking an opportunity to avenge herself, she found one in giving the Viscount but little satisfaction in the matter of his pretensions."--Dora Morice's _Histoire ecclesiastique et civile de Bretagne_, Paris, 1756, vol. ii. p. 231.--L.

  "Whilst in this despair I was sought by one whose lineage would be asgood as my own if mutual love were rated as high as a marriage ring; foryou know that his father would walk before mine. He has long wooed andloved me; but you, madam, who have never forgiven me the smallest faultnor praised me for any good deed, you--although you knew from experiencethat I was not wont to speak of love or worldly things, and that I led amore retired and religious life than any other of your maids--forthwithdeemed it strange that I should speak with a gentleman who is asunfortunate in this life as I am myself, and one, moreover, in whosefriendship I thought and looked to have nothing save comfort to my soul.When I found myself wholly baffled in this design, I fell into greatdespair, and resolved to seek my peace as earnestly as you longed to robme of it; whereupon we exchanged words of marriage, and confirmed themwith promise and ring. Wherefore, madam, methinks you do me a grievouswrong in calling me wicked, seeing that in this great and perfect love,wherein opportunity, had I so desired, would not have been lacking, nogreater familiarity has passed between us than a kiss. I have waited inthe hope that, before the consummation of the marriage, I might by thegrace of God win my father's heart to consent to it. I have given nooffence to God or to my conscience, for I have waited till the age ofthirty to see what you and my father would do for me, and have kept myyouth in such chastity and virtue that no living man can bring up aughtagainst me. But when I found that I was old and without hope of beingwedded suitably to my birth and condition, I used the reason that Godhas given me, and resolved to marry a gentleman after my own heart. Andthis I did not to gratify the lust of the eye, for you know that he isnot handsome; nor the lust of the flesh, for there has been no carnalconsummation of our marriage; nor the ambition and pride of life, for heis poor and of small rank; but I took account purely and simply of theworth that is in him, for which every one is constrained to praise him,and also of the great love that he bears me, and that gives me hopeof having a life of quietness and kindness with him. Having carefullyweighed all the good and the evil that may come of it, I have done whatseems to me best, and, after considering the matter in my heart for twoyears, I am resolved to pass the remainder of my days with him. And sofirm is my resolve that no torment that may be inflicted upon me, noreven death itself, shall ever cause me to depart from it. Wherefore,madam, I pray you excuse that which is indeed very excusable, as youyourself must realise, and suffer me to dwell in that peace which I hopeto find with him."

  The Queen, finding her so steadfast of countenance and so true ofspeech, could make no reply in reason, but continued wrathfully rebukingand reviling her, bursting into tears and saying--

  "Wretch that you are! instead of humbling yourself before me, andrepenting of so grievous a fault, you speak hardily with never a tearin your eye, and thus clearly show the obstinacy and hardness of yourheart. But if the King and your father give heed to me, they will putyou into a place where you will be compelled to speak after a differentfashion."

  "Madam," replied Rolandine, "since you charge me with speaking toohardily, I will e'en be silent if you give me not permission to reply toyou."

  Then, being commanded to speak, she went on--

  "'Tis not for me, madam, to speak to you, my mistress and the greatestPrincess in Christendom, hardily and without the reverence that I owe toyou, nor have I purposed doing so; but I have no defender to speak forme except the truth, and as this is known to me alone, I am forced toutter it fearlessly in the hope that, when you know it, you will nothold me for such as you have been pleased to name me. I fear not thatany living being should learn how I have comported myself in the matterthat is laid to my charge, for I know that I have offended neitheragainst God nor against my honour. And this it is that enables me tospeak without fear; for I feel sure that He who sees my heart is on myside, and with such a Judge in my favour, I were wrong to fear such asare subject to His decision. Why should I weep? My conscience and myheart do not at all rebuke me, and so far am I from repenting of thismatter, that, were it to be done over again, I should do just the same.But you, madam, have good cause to weep both for the deep wrong that youhave done me throughout my youth, and for that which you are now doingme, in rebuking me publicly for a fault that should be laid at your doorrather than at mine. Had I offended God, the King, yourself, my kinsfolkor my conscience, I were indeed obstinate and perverse if I didnot greatly repent with tears; but I may not weep for that whichis excellent, just and holy, and which would have received onlycommendation had you not made it known before the proper time. Indoing this, you have
shown that you had a greater desire to compass mydishonour than to preserve the honour of your house and kin. But, sincesuch is your pleasure, madam, I have nothing to say against it; commandme what suffering you will, and I, innocent though I am, will be asglad to endure as you to inflict it. Wherefore, madam, you may chargemy father to inflict whatsoever torment you would have me undergo, forI well know that he will not fail to obey you. It is pleasant to knowthat, to work me ill, he will wholly fall in with your desire, and thatas he has neglected my welfare in submission to your will, so will hebe quick to obey you to my hurt. But I have a Father in Heaven, and Hewill, I am sure, give me patience equal to all the evils that I foreseeyou preparing for me, and in Him alone do I put my perfect trust."

  The Queen, beside herself with wrath, commanded that Rolandine shouldbe taken from her sight and put into a room alone, where she might havespeech with no one. However, her governess was not taken from her, andthrough her Rolandine acquainted the Bastard with all that had befallenher, and asked him what he would have her do. He, thinking that hisservices to the King might avail him something, came with all speed tothe Court. Finding the King at the chase, he told him the whole truth,entreating him to favour a poor gentleman so far as to appease the Queenand bring about the consummation of the marriage.

  The King made no reply except to ask--

  "Do you assure me that you have wedded her?"

  "Yes, sire," said the Bastard, "but by word of mouth alone; however, ifit please you, we'll make an ending of it."

  The King bent his head, and, without saying anything more, returnedstraight towards the castle, and when he was nigh to it summoned theCaptain of his Guard, and charged him to take the Bastard prisoner.

  However, a friend who knew and could interpret the King's visage, warnedthe Bastard to withdraw and betake himself to a house of his that washard by, saying that if the King, as he expected, sought for him, heshould know of it forthwith, so that he might fly the kingdom; whilstif, on the other hand, things became smoother, he should have word toreturn. The Bastard followed this counsel, and made such speed that theCaptain of the Guards was not able to find him.

  The King and Queen took counsel together as to what they should do withthe hapless lady who had the honour of being related to them, and bythe Queen's advice it was decided that she should be sent back to herfather, and that he should be made acquainted with the whole truth.

  But before sending her away they caused many priests and councillors tospeak with her and show her that, since her marriage consisted in wordsonly, it might by mutual agreement readily be made void; and this, theyurged, the King desired her to do in order to maintain the honour of thehouse to which she belonged.

  She made answer that she was ready to obey the King in all such thingsas were not contrary to her conscience, but that those whom God hadbrought together man could not put asunder. She therefore begged themnot to tempt her to anything so unreasonable; for if love and goodwillfounded on the fear of God were the true and certain marriage ties, shewas linked by bonds that neither steel nor flame nor water could sever.Death alone might do this, and to death alone would she resign her ringand her oath. She therefore prayed them to gainsay her no more; for sostrong of purpose was she that she would rather keep faith and die thanbreak it and live.

  This steadfast reply was repeated to the King by those whom he hadappointed to speak with her, and when it was found that she could by nomeans be brought to renounce her husband, she was sent to her father,and this in so pitiful a plight that all who beheld her pass wept to seeher. And although she had done wrong, her punishment was so grievous andher constancy so great, that her wrongdoing was made to appear a virtue.

  When her father heard the pitiful tale, he would not see her, but senther away to a castle in a forest, which he had aforetime built for areason well worthy to be related. (14) There he kept her in prison for along time, causing her to be told that if she would give up her husbandhe would treat her as his daughter and set her free.

  14 The famous chateau of Josselin in Morbihan. See notes to Tale XL., vol. lv.--Ed.

  Nevertheless she continued firm, for she preferred the bonds of prisontogether with those of marriage, to all the freedom in the world withouther husband. And, judging from her countenance, all her woes seemed butpleasant pastimes to her, since she was enduring them for one she loved.

  And now, what shall I say of men? The Bastard, who was so deeplybeholden to her, as you have seen, fled to Germany where he had manyfriends, and there showed by his fickleness that he had sought Rolandineless from true and perfect love than from avarice and ambition; for hefell deeply in love with a German lady, and forgot to write to the womanwho for his sake was enduring so much tribulation. However cruel Fortunemight be towards them, they were always able to write to each other,until he conceived this foolish and wicked love. And Rolandine's heartgaining an inkling of it, she could no longer rest.

  And afterwards, when she found that his letters were colder anddifferent from what they had been before, she suspected that some newlove was separating her from her husband, and doing that which all thetorments and afflictions laid upon herself had been unable to effect.Nevertheless, her perfect love would not pass judgment on meresuspicion, so she found a means of secretly sending a trusty servant,not to carry letters or messages to him, but to watch him and discoverthe truth. When this servant had returned from his journey, he told herthat the Bastard was indeed deeply in love with a German lady, and thataccording to common report he was seeking to marry her, for she was veryrich.

  These tidings brought extreme and unendurable grief to Rolandine'sheart, so that she fell grievously sick. Those who knew the cause ofher sickness, told her on behalf of her father that, with this greatwickedness on the part of the Bastard before her eyes, she might nowjustly renounce him. They did all they could to persuade her to thatintent, but, notwithstanding her exceeding anguish, she could not bebrought to change her purpose, and in this last temptation again gaveproof of her great love and surpassing virtue. For as love grew less andless on his part, so did it grow greater on hers, and in this way makegood that which was lost. And when she knew that the entire and perfectlove that once had been shared by both remained but in her heart alone,she resolved to preserve it there until one or the other of them shoulddie. And the Divine Goodness, which is perfect charity and true love,took pity upon her grief and long suffering, in such wise that a fewdays afterwards the Bastard died while occupied in seeking after anotherwoman. Being advised of this by certain persons who had seen him laid inthe ground, she sent to her father and begged that he would be pleasedto speak with her.

  Her father, who had never spoken to her since her imprisonment, camewithout delay. He listened to all the pleas that she had to urge, andthen, instead of rebuking her or killing her as he had often threatened,he took her in his arms and wept exceedingly.

  "My daughter," he said, "you are more in the right than I, for if therehas been any wrongdoing in this matter, I have been its principal cause.But now, since God has so ordered it, I would gladly atone for thepast."

  He took her home and treated her as his eldest daughter. A gentlemanwho bore the same name and arms as did her own family sought her inmarriage; he was very sensible and virtuous, (15) and he thought so muchof Rolandine, whom he often visited, that he gave praise to whatothers blamed in her, perceiving that virtue had been her only aim.The marriage, being acceptable both to Rolandine and to her father, wasconcluded without delay.

  It is true, however, that a brother she had, the sole heir of theirhouse, would not grant her a portion, for he charged her with havingdisobeyed her father. And after his father's death he treated her soharshly that she and her husband (who was a younger son) had much ado tolive. (16)

  15 Peter de Rohan-Gie, Lord of Frontenay, third son of Peter de Rohan, Lord of Gie, Marshal of Prance and preceptor to Francis I. As previously stated, the marriage took place in 1517, and eight years later the husband was k
illed at Pavia.--Ed.

  16 Anne de Rohan (Rolandine) had two brothers, James and Claud. Both died without issue. Some particulars concerning them will be found in the notes to Tale XL. The father's death, according to Anselme, took place in 1516, that is, prior to Anne's marriage.--Ed.

  However, God provided for them, for the brother that sought to keepeverything died suddenly one day, leaving behind him both her wealth,which he was keeping back, and his own.

  Thus did she inherit a large and rich estate, whereon she lived piouslyand virtuously and in her husband's love. And after she had brought upthe two sons that God gave to them, (17) she yielded with gladness hersoul to Him in whom she had at all times put her perfect trust.

  17 Anne's sons were Rene and Claud. Miss Mary Robinson (_The Fortunate Lovers_, London, 1887) believes Rene to be "Saffredent," and his wife Isabel d'Albret, sister of Queen Margaret's husband Henry of Navarre, to be "Nomerfide."--Ed.

  "Now, ladies, let the men who would make us out so fickle come forwardand point to an instance of as good a husband as this lady was a goodwife, and of one having like faith and steadfastness. I am sure theywould find it so difficult to do this, that I will release them fromthe task rather than put them to such exceeding toil. But as for you,ladies, I would pray you, for the sake of maintaining your own fairfame, either to love not at all, or else to love as perfectly as shedid. And let none among you say that this lady offended against herhonour, seeing that her constancy has served to heighten our own."

  "In good sooth, Parlamente," said Oisille, "you have indeed told usthe story of a woman possessed of a noble and honourable heart; but herconstancy derives half its lustre from the faithlessness of a husbandthat could leave her for another."

  "I think," said Longarine, "that the grief so caused must have beenthe hardest to bear. There is none so heavy that the love of two unitedlovers cannot support it; but when one fails in his duty, and leavesthe whole of the burden to the other, the load becomes too heavy to beendured."

  "Then you ought to pity us," said Geburon, "for we have to bear thewhole burden of love, and you will not put out the tip of a finger torelieve us."

  "Ah, Geburon," said Parlamente, "the burdens of men and of women areoften different enough. The love of a woman, being founded on godlinessand honour, is just and reasonable, and any man that is false to it mustbe reckoned a coward, and a sinner against God and man. On the otherhand, most men love only with reference to pleasure, and women, beingignorant of their ill intent, are sometimes ensnared; but when God showsthem how vile is the heart of the man whom they deemed good, they maywell draw back to save their honour and reputation, for soonest ended isbest mended."

  "Nay, that is a whimsical idea of yours," said Hircan, "to hold that anhonourable woman may in all honour betray the love of a man; but thata man may not do as much towards a woman. You would make out that theheart of the one differs from that of the other; but for my part, inspite of their differences in countenance and dress, I hold them tobe alike in inclination, except indeed that the guilt which is bestconcealed is the worst."

  Thereto Parlamente replied with some heat--

  "I am well aware that in your opinion the best women are those whoseguilt is known."

  "Let us leave this discourse," said Simontault; "for whether we takethe heart of man or the heart of woman, the better of the twain is worthnothing. And now let us see to whom Parlamente is going to give hervote, so that we may hear some fine tale."

  "I give it," she said, "to Geburon."

  "Since I began," (18) he replied, "by talking about the Grey friars, Imust not forget those of Saint Benedict, nor an adventure in which theywere concerned in my own time. Nevertheless, in telling you the story ofa wicked monk, I do not wish to hinder you from having a good opinion ofsuch as are virtuous; but since the Psalmist says 'all men are liars,'and in another place, 'there is none that doeth good, no not one,' (19)I think we are bound to look upon men as they really are. If there beany virtue in them, we must attribute it to Him who is its source, andnot to the creature. Most people deceive themselves by giving overmuchpraise or glory to the latter, or by thinking that there is somethinggood in themselves. That you may not deem it impossible for exceedinglust to exist under exceeding austerity, listen to what befel in thedays of King Francis the First."

  18 See the first tale he tells, No. 5, vol. i.--Ed.

  19 Psalms cxvi. 11 and xiv. 3.

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