Chapter XII: Part 12

Afterwards he ordered the table to be removed, and when grace was said, he called his stepson and whispered to him;

“John, my friend, although the others accuse me, I know that you believe me. See how much is owing to that poor girl, and pay her so liberally that she will have no cause to complain, and send her away; for I know well that your mother will never permit her to stay in the house.”

The stepson went and did as he was ordered, then he returned to the friends whom he had brought, whom he found talking to his mother, then they thanked her for their entertainment, and took leave and went.

The husband and wife remained at home, and it is to be supposed that he did not hear the last of it for some time. For the poor husband did not drain his cup of bitterness at the dinner-table, but found that the proverb about dogs, hawks, war, and love, which says, “Every pleasure has a thousand sorrows,” is true. But none should run the risk if they are not prepared to pay the penalty. Thus did it happen that the adventure of this worthy fellow ended in the manner related.

*****

STORY THE SIXTIETH -- THREE VERY MINOR BROTHERS. [60]

By Poncelet.

_Of three women of Malines, who were acquainted with three cordeliers, and had their heads shaved, and donned the gown that they might not be recognised, and how it was made known._

Formerly there were in the town of Malines three damsels, the wives of three burghers of the town,--rich, powerful, and of good position, who were in love with three Minor Friars; and to more secretly and covertly manage their amours under the cloak of religion, they rose every day an hour or two before dawn, and when it appeared a fit time to go and see their lovers, they told their husbands they were going to matins to the first Mass.

Owing to the great pleasure that they took in these exercises and the monks also, it often happened that it was broad daylight, and they could not leave the convent without being perceived by the other monks. Therefore, fearing the great perils and inconveniences which might arise, they arranged between them that each should wear a monk’s gown, and have a tonsure made on her head, as though they belonged to the convent. So finally one day that they were in the convent, and whilst their husbands suspected nothing of it, a barber,--that is to say a monk belonging to the convent--was sent for secretly to the cells of the three brothers, and he cut a tonsure on the head of each.

And when the time came to leave, they put on the friars’ gowns with which they were provided, and in that state returned to their respective homes, and undressed, and left their disguise with certain discreet matrons, and then returned to their husbands; and this continued for a long while, without any person being aware of it.

But since it would have been a great pity that such excessive devotion should not be known, fortune so willed that as on a certain day one of these ladies was on her road to the accustomed haunt, her trick was discovered, and she was caught in her disguise by her husband, who had followed her, and who said:

“Good brother, I am glad to have met you! I would beg of you to return to my house, for I have many things to say to you,” and with that he took her back, at which she hardly felt joyful.

When they were in the house, the husband said, in a joking manner;

“My dear helpmate, can you swear on your honour that it is true piety, which in the middle of winter, causes you to don the habit of St. Francis, and have your head shaved like the good monks? Tell me the name of your confessor, or by St. Francis you shall suffer for it,”--and he pretended to draw his dagger.

The poor woman threw herself on her knees, and cried;

“Have mercy upon me, husband! for I have been led astray by bad companions! I know that you could kill me if you liked, and that I have not behaved as I should, but I am not the only one the monks have led astray, and, if you promise that you will do nothing to me, I will tell you all.”

To this her husband agreed; and then she told him how she often went to the monastery with two of her cronies who were in love with two of the monks, and they often breakfasted together in the monks’ cells. “A third monk was in love with me,” she continued, “and made such humble and impassioned requests to me that I could not excuse myself, and by the instigation and example of my companions, I did as they did, they all saying that we should have a good time together, and no one would know about it.”

Then the husband demanded the names of her female friends, and she told him. He was acquainted with their husbands, and they had often eaten and drunk together. Finally, he asked who was the barber, and the names of the three monks.

The good husband, after considering all things, and moved by the piteous groans and sad regrets of his wife, said;

“Take care that you tell no one that you have spoken to me on this matter, and I promise you that I will do you no harm.”

She promised that she would do whatever he wished. With that he went away at once, and invited to dinner the two husbands and their wives, the three Cordeliers, and the barber, and they all promised to come.

The next day they all came, and sat at table, and enjoyed themselves without expecting any bad news. After the table was removed, they had many joyous jests and devices to discover who should pay scot for all, and as they could not agree, the host said;

“Since we cannot agree as to who is to pay the reckoning, I will tell you what we will do. The one who has the baldest crown to his head shall pay--of course excluding these good monks, who pay nothing--at present.”

To which they all agreed, and were content that it should be thus, and that the barber should be the judge. And when all the men had shown their heads, the host said that they ought to look at their wives’ heads.

It need not be asked if there were not some there present who felt their hearts sink within them. Without an instant’s delay, the host uncovered his wife’s head, and when he saw the tonsure he pretended to admire it greatly, pretending that he knew nothing about it, and said,

“We must see if the others are the same.”

Then their husbands made them remove their head-dresses, and they were found to be tonsured like the first one, at which the men were not best pleased, notwithstanding that they laughed loudly, and declared that the question had been settled, and that it was for their wives to pay the reckoning.

But they wished to know how these tonsures came there, and the host, rejoicing to be able to divulge such a secret, related the whole affair, on condition that they would pardon their wives this time, after they had been witnesses of the penance the good monks were to undergo in their presence,--and to this both husbands agreed.

Then the host caused four or five sturdy varlets to come out of a chamber near by, and they, knowing what they had to do, seized the worthy monks and gave them as many blows as they could find room for on their shoulders, and then turned them out of the house. The others remained for a certain space, and it is to be supposed that a good deal of conversation passed between them, but as it would take too long to recount, I pass it over here, for the sake of brevity.

*****

STORY THE SIXTY-FIRST -- CUCKOLDED--AND DUPED. [61]

By Poncelet.

_Of a merchant who locked up in a bin his wife’s lover, and she secretly put an ass there which caused her husband to be covered with confusion._

It happened once that in a large town of Hainault there lived a good merchant married to a worthy woman. He travelled much, to buy and sell his merchandise, and this caused his wife to have a lover in his absence, and this continued for a long time.

Nevertheless, the secret was at last discovered by a neighbour, who was a relative of the husband, and lived opposite the merchant’s house, and who often saw a gallant enter the merchant’s house at night and leave in the morning. Which matter was brought to the knowledge of the person to whose prejudice it was, by this neighbour.

The merchant was much vexed, nevertheless he thanked his relative and neighbour, and said that he would shortly see into the matter, and for that purpose would shut himself up one night in his neighbour’s house, that he might see if anyone visited his wife.

Lastly, he pretended to start on a journey, and told his wife and his servants that he did not know when he should return. He started in the early morning, but returned the same evening, and having left his horse at some house, came secretly to his cousin, and peeped through a little lattice, expecting to see that which would hardly have pleased him.

He waited till about nine o’clock, when the gallant, whom the damsel had informed that her husband was away, passed once or twice before his lady-love’s house, and looked at the door to see if he might enter, but found it closed. He guessed that it was not yet time, and whilst he strolled about waiting, the good merchant, who thought that this was the man he wanted, came down, and went to his door, and said,

“Friend, the lady heard you, and as she is afraid that the master may come back, she sent me down to let you in, if you please.”

The gallant, thinking it was the servant, followed him, the door was opened gently, and he was conducted into a chamber in which there was a large bin, which the merchant unlocked and made the young man enter, that he should not be discovered if the husband returned. “My mistress will come and talk to you and let you out,” added the merchant as he turned the key in the lock.

The gallant suffered all this for the sake of what was to follow, and because he believed that the other spoke the truth.

Then the merchant started off at once as quickly as he could, and went to the cousin and his wife, and said to them:

“The rat is caught; but now we must consider what to do.”

The cousin, and more particularly his wife--for there was no love lost between the two women--were very glad to hear this, and said that it would be best for him to show the gallant to all his wife’s relations in order that they might know how she conducted herself.

This being determined on, the merchant went to the house of his wife’s father and mother, and told them that if ever they wished to see their daughter alive they must come at once to his house.

They jumped up at once, and, whilst they were preparing, he also went off to two of her brothers and her sisters, and told them the same thing. Then he took them all to the cousin’s house, and related the whole history, and how the rat had been caught.

Now you must know what the gallant did in the bin all the time, until he was luckily released. The damsel, who wondered greatly that her lover did not come, went backwards and forwards to the door, to see if he were coming. The young man, who heard her pass close to him without ever speaking to him, began to thump with his fist on the side of the bin. The damsel heard it, and was greatly frightened; nevertheless she asked who was there, and the gallant replied;

“Alas, my dearest love, I am dying here of heat and doubt, for I am much surprised that I have been shut in here, and that no one has yet come to me.”

“Virgin Mary! who can have put you there, my dear?”

“By my oath I know not,” he replied; “but your varlet came to me and told me that you had asked him to bring me into the house, and that I was to get into this bin, that the husband might not find me if by chance he should come back to-night.”

“Ah!” said she, “by my life that must have been my husband. I am a lost woman; and our secret has been discovered.”

“Do you know what is to be done?” he said. “In the first place you must let me out, or I will break everything, for I can no longer endure being shut up.”

“By my oath!” said the damsel, “I have not the key; and if you break through, I am undone, for my husband will say that I did it to save you.”

Finally, the damsel searched about, and found a lot of old keys, amongst which was one that delivered the poor captive. As soon as he was out, he tumbled the lady, to show her what a grudge he had against her, which she bore patiently. After that her lover would have left her, but the damsel hung round his neck, and told him that if he went away like that, she would be as much dishonoured as though he had broken out of the bin.

“What is to be done then?” said the gallant.

“We must put something there for my husband to find, or he will think that I have let you out.”

“And what shall we put there?” asked the lover. “For it is time for me to go.”

“We have in the stable,” she said, “an ass, that we will put in if you will help me.”

“Certainly, I will,” he answered.

The ass was driven into the bin, and it was locked again, and then her lover took leave of her with a sweet kiss, and left by a back-door, whilst the damsel quickly got into bed.

Whilst these things were happening, her husband had assembled all his wife’s relatives, and brought them to his cousin’s house, as has been said, where he informed them of what he had done, and how he had caught the gallant, and had him under lock and key.

“And in order that you shall not say,” he added, “that I blame your daughter without cause, you shall both see and touch the scoundrel who has done us this dishonour, and I beg that he may be killed before he can get away.”

Every one present declared that it should be so.

“And then,” said the merchant, “I will send you back your daughter for such as she is.”

With that they all accompanied him, though sorrowing much at the news, and they took with them torches and flambeaux, so as to be better able to search, and that nothing should escape them.

They knocked so loudly that the damsel came before anyone else in the house was awakened, and opened the door, and when they had come in, she abused her husband, her father, her mother, and the others, and declared that she wondered greatly what could have brought them all at that hour of the night. At these words her husband stepped forward, and gave her a good buffet, and said,

“You shall know soon enough, false such and such that you are.”

“Ah! take care what you say. Was it for that you brought my father and mother here?”

“Yes,” said the mother, “false wench that you are. We will drag forth your paramour directly.”

And her sisters said,

“By God, sister you did not learn at home to behave like this.”

“Sisters,” she replied, “by all the saints of Rome, I have done nothing that a good woman should not do. I should like to see anyone prove the contrary.”

“You lie!” said her husband. “I can prove it at once, and the rascal shall be killed in your presence. Up quickly! and open me this bin.”

“I?” she replied. “In truth I think you must be dreaming, or out of your senses, for you know well that I have never had the key, but that it hangs at your belt along with the others, ever since the time that you locked up your goods. If you want to open it, open it. But I pray to God that, as truly as I have never kept company with whoever is in that box, that He will deliver me, to my great joy, and that the evil spite that you have against me may be clearly proved and demonstrated--and I have full hope and confidence that it will be so.”

“And I hope,” said her husband, addressing the crowd, “that you will see her on her knees, weeping and groaning, and squalling like a drenched cat. She would deceive anybody who was fool enough to believe her, but I have suspected her for a long time past. Now I am going to unlock the bin, and I beg you, gentlemen, to lay hands on the scoundrel, that he escape us not, for he is strong and bold.”

“Have no fear!” they cried in chorus. “We will give a good account of him.”

“With that they drew their swords, and brandished their hammers to knock down the poor lover, and they shouted to him,

“Confess your sins! for you will never have a priest nearer you.”

The mother and sisters, not wishing to witness the murder, drew on one side, and then the good man opened the bin, and as soon as the ass saw the light, it began to bray so hideously that the boldest person there was affrighted.

And when they saw that it was an ass, and that they had been befooled, they cursed the merchant, and showered more abuse on him than ever St. Peter had praise, and even the women inveighed against him. In fact, if he had not fled, his wife’s brothers would have killed him, in revenge for the blame and dishonour he had wrongly tried to bring on the family.

There was such ado between him and his wife’s family that peace had to be made between them by the chief burghers of the town, and this was not effected without much trouble, and many demands on the part of her friends, and many strict promises on his part. But ever after that he was all kindness and consideration, and never did a man conduct himself better to his wife than he did all his life; and thus they passed their days together.

*****

STORY THE SIXTY-SECOND -- THE LOST RING.

By Monseigneur De Commesuram.

_Of two friends, one of whom left a diamond in the bed of his hostess, where the other found it, from which there arose a great discussion between them, which the husband of the said hostess settled in an effectual manner._

About the month of July (*) a great meeting and assembly was held between Calais and Gravelines, and near the castle of Oye, at which were assembled many princes and great lords, both of France and of England, to consider the question of the ransom of the Duke of Orléans, (**) then prisoner to the king of England. Amongst the English representatives was the Cardinal of Winchester, who had come to the said assembly in great and noble state, with many knights, and squires and ecclesiastics.

(*) 1440.

(**) Charles, Duke of Orléans, was taken prisoner at the
battle of Agincourt in 1415, and, as his ransom was not
forthcoming was detained a captive for 25 years, when the
Duke and Duchess of Burgundy intervened to procure his
freedom. Cardinal Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, accepted a
ransom of 200,000 gold crowns, payment of which was
guaranteed by the Dauphin of France, Duke Philip of
Burgundy, and other princes, with the consent of the King of
France. The agreement was signed 22 Nov. 1440.

And amongst the other noblemen were two named John Stockton, squire, and carver, and Thomas Brampton, cup-bearer to the said Cardinal--which said John and Thomas loved each other like two brothers, for their clothes, harness, and arms were always as nearly alike as possible, and they usually shared the same room and the said bed, and never was there heard any quarrel, dispute, or misunderstanding between them.

When the said Cardinal arrived at the said town of Calais, there was hired for him to lodge the said noblemen, the house of Richard Fery, which is the largest house in the town of Calais, and it is the custom of all great lords passing through the town to lodge there.

The said Richard was married to a Dutchwoman; who was beautiful, courteous, and well accustomed to receive guests.

While the treaty was being discussed, which was for more than two months, John Stockton and Thomas Brampton, who were both of the age of 26 or 28 years, wore bright crimson clothes, (*) and were ready for feats of arms by night or day--during this time, I say, notwithstanding the intimacy and friendship which existed between these two brothers-in-arms, the said John Stockton, unknown to the said Thomas, found means to visit their hostess, and often conversed with her, and paid her many of those attentions customary in love affairs, and finally was emboldened to ask the said hostess if he might be her friend, and she would be his lady-love.

(*) Shakespeare several times in the course of the First
Part of Henry VI mentions “the tawny robes of Winchester.”
Which is right?

To which, as though pretending to be astonished at such a request, she replied coldly that she did not hate him, or anyone, nor wish to, but that she loved all the world as far as in honour she could, but if she rightly understood his request, she could not comply with it without great danger of dishonour and scandal, and perhaps risk to her life, and for nothing in the world would she consent thereto.

John replied that she might very well grant his request, for that he would rather perish, and be tormented in the other world, than that she should be dishonoured by any fault of his, and that she was in no wise to suspect that her honour would not be safe in his keeping, and he again begged her to grant him this favour, and always deem him her servant and loving friend.

She pretended to tremble, and replied that truly he made all the blood freeze in her veins, such fear and dread had she of doing that which he asked. Then he approached her and requested a kiss, which the ladies and damsels of the said country of England are ready enough to grant, (*) and kissing her, begged her tenderly not to be afraid, for no person living should ever be made acquainted with what passed between them.

(*) Is this a libel on the English ladies of the 16th
century, or is it true--as Bibliophile Jacob asserts in the
foot-note to this passage--that “English prudery is a
daughter of the Reformation?”

Then she said;

“I see that there is no escape, and that I must do as you wish, and as this must be so, in order to guard my honour, let me tell you that a regulation has been made by all the lords now living in Calais that every householder shall watch one night a week on the town walls. But as my husband has done so much, either himself or by his friends, for the lords and noblemen of the Cardinal, your master, who lodge here, he has only to watch half the night, and he will do so on Thursday next, from the time the bell rings in the evening until midnight; and whilst my husband is away on his watch, if you have anything to say to me, you will find me in my chamber, quite willing to listen to you, and along with my maid;”--who was quite ready to perform whatever her mistress wished.

John Stockton was much pleased with this answer, and thanked his hostess, and told her that it would not be his fault if he did not come at the appointed hour.

This conversation took place on the Monday, after dinner. But it should here be stated that Thomas Brampton had, unknown to his friend John Stockton, made similar requests to their hostess, but she would not grant his desire, but now raised his hopes and then dashed them to the ground, saying that he must have but a poor idea of her virtue, and that, if she did what he wished, she was sure that her husband and his relations and friends would take her life.

To this Thomas replied;

“My beloved mistress and hostess, I am a nobleman, and for no consideration would I bring upon you blame or dishonour, or I should be unworthy of the name of a gentleman. Believe me, that I would guard your honour as I do my own, and would rather die than reveal your secret; and that there is no friend or other person in the world, however dear to me, to whom I would relate our love-affair.”

She, therefore, noting the great affection and desire of the said Thomas, told him, on the Wednesday following the day on which she had given John the gracious reply recorded above--that, as he had a great desire to do her any service, she would not be so ungrateful as not to repay him. And then she told him how it was arranged that her husband should watch the morrow night, like the other chief householders of the town, in compliance with the regulation made by the lords then staying in Calais. But as--thank God--her husband had powerful friends to speak to the Cardinal for him, he had only to watch half the night, that is to say from midnight till the morning, and that if Thomas wished to speak to her during that time, she would gladly hear him, but, for God’s sake let him come so secretly that no blame could attach to her.

Thomas replied that he desired nothing better, and with that he took leave of her.

On the morrow, which was Thursday, at vespers, after the bell had rung for the watch, John Stockton did not forget to appear at the hour his hostess had appointed. He went to her chamber, and found her there quite alone, and she received him and made him welcome, for the table was laid.

John requested that he might sup with her, that they might the better talk together,--which she would not at first grant, saying that it might cause scandal if he were found with her. But she finally gave way, and the supper--which seemed to John to take a long time--being finished, he embraced his hostess, and they enjoyed themselves together, both naked.

Before he entered the chamber, he had put on one of his fingers, a gold ring set with a large fine diamond, of the value of, perhaps, thirty nobles. And in playing together, the ring slipped from his finger in the bed without his knowing it.

When it was about 11 o’clock, the damsel begged him kindly to dress and leave, that he might not be found by her husband, whom she expected as soon as midnight sounded, and that he would guard her honour as he had promised.

He, supposing that her husband would return soon, rose, dressed, and left the chamber as soon as the clock struck twelve, and without remembering the diamond he had left in the bed.

Not far from the door of the chamber John Stockton met Thomas Brampton, whom he mistook for his host, Richard. Thomas,--who had come at the hour the lady appointed,--made a similar mistake, and took John Stockton for Richard, and waited a few moments to see which way he would go.

Having watched the other disappear, Thomas went to the chamber, found the door ajar, and entered. The lady pretended to be much frightened and alarmed, and asked Thomas, with doubt and fear, whether he had met her husband who had just left to join the watch? He replied that he had met a man, but did not know whether it was her husband or another, and had waited a little in order to see which way he would go.

When she heard this, she kissed him boldly, and told him he was welcome, and Thomas, without more ado, laid her on the bed and tumbled her. When she found what manner of man he was, she made haste to undress, and he also, and they both got into bed, and sacrificed to the god of love, and broke several lances.

But in performing these feats, Thomas met with an adventure, for he suddenly felt under his thigh, the diamond that John Stockton had left there, and without saying anything, or evincing any surprise, he picked it up, and put it on his finger.

They remained together until the morning, when the watch bell was about to ring, when, at the request of the damsel he rose, but before he left they embraced with a long, loving kiss. He had scarcely gone when Richard came off the watch, on which he had been all night, very cold and sleepy, and found his wife just getting up. She made him a fire, and then he went to bed, for he had worked all night,--and so had his wife though not in the same fashion.

It is the custom of the English, after they have heard Mass, to breakfast at a tavern, with the best wine; and about two days after these events, John and Thomas were in a company of other gentlemen and merchants, who were breakfasting together, and Stockton and Brampton were seated opposite each other.

Whilst they were eating, John looked at Thomas, and saw on one of his fingers the diamond. He gazed at it a long time, and came to the conclusion that it was the ring he had lost, he did not know where or when, and he begged Thomas to show him the diamond, who accordingly handed it to him, and when he had it in his hand he saw that it was his own, and told Thomas so, and asked him how he came by it. To this Thomas replied that it belonged to _him_. Stockton maintained, on the contrary, that he had lost it but a short time before, and that if Thomas had found it in the chamber where they slept, it was not right of him to keep it, considering the affection and fraternity which had always existed between them. High words ensued, and both were angry and indignant with each other.

Thomas wished to get the diamond back, but could not obtain it. When the other gentlemen and merchants heard the dispute, all tried to bring about a reconciliation, but it was no good, for he who had lost the diamond would not let it out of his hands, and he who had found it wanted it back, as a memento of his love-encounter with his mistress, so that it was difficult to settle the dispute.

Finally, one of the merchants, seeing that all attempts to make up the quarrel were useless, said that he had hit upon a plan with which both John and Thomas ought to be satisfied, but he would not say what it was unless both parties promised, under a penalty of ten nobles, to abide by what he said. All the company declared that the merchant had spoken well, and persuaded John and Thomas to abide by this decision, which they at last consented to do.

The merchant ordered the diamond to be placed in his hands, then that all those who had tried to settle the difference should be silent, and that they should leave the house where they were, and the first man they met, whatever his rank or condition should be told the whole matter of the dispute between the said John and Thomas, and, whatever he decided, his verdict should be accepted without demur by both parties.

Thereupon all the company left the house, and the first person they met was Richard, the host of both disputants, to whom the merchant narrated the whole of the dispute.

Richard--after he had heard all, and had asked those, who were present if the account was correct, and the two were unwilling to let this dispute be settled by so many notable persons,--delivered his verdict--namely that the diamond should remain his, and that neither of the parties should have it.

When Thomas saw himself deprived of the diamond he had found, he was much vexed; and most probably so also was John Stockton, who had lost it.

Then Thomas requested all the company, except their host, to return to the house where they had breakfasted, and he would give them a dinner in order that they might hear how the diamond had come into his hands, to which they all agreed. And whilst the dinner was being prepared, he related the conversation he had had with his hostess, how she had appointed him an hour for him to visit her, whilst her husband was out with the watch, and how the diamond was found.

When John Stockton heard this he was astonished, and declared that exactly the same had occurred to him, and on the same night, and that he was convinced that he must have dropped his diamond where Thomas had found it, and that it was far worse for him to lose it than it was for Thomas, for it had cost him dear, whereas Thomas had lost nothing.

To which Thomas replied that he ought not to complain that their host had adjudged it to be his, considering what their hostess had had to suffer, and that he (John) had had first innings, whilst Thomas had had to act as his page or squire, and come after him.

So John Stockton was tolerably reconciled to the loss of his ring, since he could not otherwise help it. And all those who were present laughed loudly at the story of this adventure; and after they had all dined, each returned whithersoever he wished.

*****

STORY THE SIXTY-THIRD -- MONTBLERU; OR THE THIEF. [63]

By G. De Montbleru.

_Of one named Montbleru, who at a fair at Antwerp stole from his companions their shirts and handkerchiefs, which they had given to the servant-maid of their hostess to be washed; and how afterwards they pardoned the thief, and then the said Montbleru told them the whole of the story._

Montbleru found himself about two years ago at the fair of Antwerp, in the company of Monseigneur d’Estampes, who paid all his expenses--which was much to the liking of Montbleru.

One day amongst others, by chance he met Masters Ymbert de Playne, Roland Pipe, and Jehan Le Tourneur, who were having a merry time; and as he is pleasant and obliging, as everyone knows, they desired his company, and begged him to come and lodge with them, and then they would have a merrier time than ever.

Montbleru at first excused himself, on the ground that he ought not to quit Monseigneur d’Estampes who had brought him there;

“And there is a very good reason,” he said, “for he pays all my expenses.”

Nevertheless, he was willing to leave Monseigneur d’Estampes if the others would pay his expenses, and they, who desired nothing better than his company, willingly and heartily agreed to this. And now hear how he paid them out.

These three worthy lords, Masters Ymbert, Roland, and Jehan Le Tourneur, stayed at Antwerp longer than they expected when they left Court, and each had brought but one shirt, and these and their handkerchiefs etc. became dirty, which was a great inconvenience to them, for the weather was very hot, it being Pentecost. So they gave them to the servant-maid at their lodgings to wash, one Saturday night when they went to bed, and they were to have them clean the following morning when they rose.

But Montbleru was on the watch. When the morning came, the maid, who had washed the shirts and handkerchiefs, and dried them, and folded them neatly and nicely, was called away by her mistress to go to the butcher to seek provisions for the dinner. She did as her mistress ordered, and left all these clothes in the kitchen, on a stool, expecting to find them on her return, but in this she was disappointed, for Montbleru, when he awoke and saw it was day, got out of bed, and putting on a dressing gown over his shirt, went downstairs.

He went into the kitchen, where there was not a living soul, but only the shirts, handkerchiefs, and other articles, asking to be taken. Montbleru saw his opportunity, and took them, but was much puzzled to know where he could hide them. Once he thought of putting them amongst the big copper pots and pans which were in the kitchen; then of hiding them up his sleeve; but finally he concealed them in the hay in the stable, with a big heap of straw on the top, and that being done, he returned to bed and lay down by the side of Jehan Le Tourneur.

When the servant maid came back from the butcher’s, she could not find the shirts, at which she was much vexed, and she asked everybody she met if they had seen them? They all told her they knew nothing about them, and God knows what a time she had. Then came the servants of these worthy lords, who expected the shirts and were afraid to go to their masters without them, and grew angry because the shirts could not be found, and so did the host, and the hostess, and the maid.

When it was about nine o’clock, these good lords called their servants, but none of them answered, for they were afraid to tell their masters about the loss of their shirts; but at last, however, when it was between 11 and 12 o’clock, the host came, and the servants, and told the gentlemen how their shirts had been stolen, at which news two of them--Masters Ymbert and Roland--lost patience, but Jehan Le Tourneur took it easily, and did nothing but laugh, and called Montbleru, who pretended to be asleep, but who heard and knew all, and said to him,

“Montbleru, we are all in a nice mess. They have stolen our shirts.”

“Holy Mary! what do you say?” replied Montbleru, pretending to be only just awake. “That is bad news.”

When they had discussed the robbery of their shirts for a long time--Montbleru well knew who was the thief--these worthy lords said;

“It is late, and we have not yet heard Mass, and it is Sunday, and we cannot very well go without a shirt. What is to be done?”

“By my oath!” said the host, “I know of nothing better than to lend you each one of my shirts, such as they are. They are not as good as yours, but they are clean, and there is nothing better to be done.”

They were obliged to take their host’s shirts which were too short and too small, and made of hard, rough linen, and God knows they were a pretty sight in them.

They were soon ready, thank God, but it was so late that they did not know where they could hear Mass. Then said Montbleru, in his familiar way,

“As for hearing Mass, it is too late to-day; but I know a church in this town where at least, we shall not fail to see God.”

“That is better than nothing,” said the worthy lords. “Come, come! let us get away, for it is very late, and to lose our shirts, and not to hear Mass to-day would be a double misfortune; and it is time we went to church if we want to hear Mass.”

Montbleru took them to the principal church in Antwerp, where there is a God on an ass (*).

(*) A picture or bas-relief, representing Christ’s entry
into Jerusalem, is probably meant.

When they had each said a paternoster, they said to Montbleru, “Where shall we see God?”

“I will show you,” he replied. Then he showed them God mounted on an ass, and added, “You will never fail to find Him here at whatever hour you come.”

They began to laugh in spite of the discomfort their shirts caused them. Then they went back to dinner, and were after that I know not how many days at Antwerp, and left without their shirts, for Montbleru had hidden them in a safe place, and afterwards sold them for five gold crowns.

Now God so willed that in the first week of Lent, Montbleru was at dinner with the three worthy gentlemen before named, and in the course of his talk he reminded them of the shirts they had lost at Antwerp, and said,

“Alas, the poor thief who robbed you will be damned for that, unless God and you pardon him. Do you bear him any ill-will?”

“By God!” said Master Ymbert, “my dear sir, I have thought no more about it,--I had forgotten it long since.”

“At least,” said Montbleru, “you pardon him, do you not?”

“By St. John!” he replied, “I would not have him damned for my sake.”

“By my oath, that is well said,” answered Montbleru. “And you Master Roland,--do you also pardon him?”

After a good deal of trouble, he agreed to pardon the thief, but as the theft rankled in his mind, he found the word hard to pronounce.

“And will you also pardon him, Master Roland?” said Montbleru. “What will you gain by having a poor thief damned for a wretched shirt and handkerchief?”

“Truly I pardon him,” said he. “He is quit as far as I am concerned, since there is nothing else to be done.”

“By my oath, you are a good man,” said Montbleru.

Then came the turn of Jehan Le Tourneur. Montbleru said to him,

“Now, Jehan, you will not be worse than the others. Everything will be pardoned to this poor stealer of shirts unless you object.”

“I don’t object,” he replied. “I have long since pardoned him, and I will give him absolution into the bargain.”

“You could not say more,” rejoined Montbleru, “and by my oath I am greatly obliged to you for having pardoned the thief who stole your shirts, as far as I personally am concerned, for I am the thief who stole your shirts at Antwerp. So I profit by your free pardon, and thank you for it, as I ought to do.”

When Montbleru confessed this theft, and had been forgiven by all the party as you have heard, it need not be asked if Masters Ymbert, Roland, and Jehan Le Tourneur were astonished, for they had never suspected that it was Montbleru who had played that trick upon them, and they reproached him playfully with the theft. But he, knowing his company, excused himself cleverly for having played such a joke upon them, and told them that it was his custom to take whatever he found unprotected,--especially with people like them.

They only laughed, but asked him how he had managed to effect the theft, and he told them the whole story, and said also that he had made five crowns out of his booty, after which they asked him no more.

*****

STORY THE SIXTY-FOURTH -- THE OVER-CUNNING CURÉ. [64]

By Michault De Changy.

_Of a priest who would have played a joke upon a gelder named Trenche-couille, but, by the connivance of his host, was himself castrated._

There formerly lived in this country, in a place that I have a good reason for not mentioning (if any should recognise it, let him be silent as I am) a curé who was over-fond of confessing his female parishioners. In fact, there was not one who had not had to do with him, especially the young ones--for the old he did not care.

When he had long carried on this holy life and virtuous exercise, and his fame had spread through all the country round, he was punished in the way that you will hear, by one of his parishioners, to whom, however, he had done nothing concerning his wife.

He was one day at dinner, and enjoying himself, at the inn kept by his parishioner, and as they were in the midst of their dinner, there came a man named Trenchecouille, whose business it was to cut cattle, pull teeth, and other matters, and who had come to the inn for one of these purposes.

The host received him well, and asked him to sit down, and, without being much pressed, he sat down with the curé and the others, to eat.

The curé, who was a great joker, began to talk to this gelder and asked him a hundred thousand questions about his business, and the gelder replied as he best could.

At the end, the curé turned to the host, and whispered in his ear,

“Shall we play a trick upon this gelder?”

“Oh, yes, let us,” replied the host. “But how shall we do it?”

“By my oath,” said the curé, “we will play him a pretty trick, if you will help me.”

“I am quite willing,” replied the host.

“I will tell you what we will do,” said the curé. “I will pretend to have a pain in the testicle, and bargain with him to cut it out; then I will be bound and laid on the table all ready, and when he comes near to cut me, I will jump up and show him my backside.”

“That is well said,” replied my host, who at once saw what he had to do. “We shall never hit on anything better. We will all help you with the joke.”

“Very well,” said the curé.

After this the curé began again to rally the gelder, and at last told him that he had want of a man like him, for that he had a testicle all diseased and rotten, and would like to find a man who would extract it, and he said it so quietly and calmly that the gelder believed him, and replied;

“Monsieur le curé, I would have you know that without either disparaging myself or boasting, there is not a man in this country who can do the job better than I can, and for the sake of the host here, I will do my best to satisfy you.”

“Truly, that is well said;” replied the curé.

In short, all was agreed, and when the dinner had been removed, the gelder began to make his preparations, and on the other hand the curé prepared to play the practical joke, (which was to turn out no joke for him) and told the host and the others what they were to do.

Whilst these preparations were being made on both sides, the host went to the gelder, and said,

“Take care, and, whatever the priest may say, cut out both his testicles, clean,--and fail not, if you value your carcass.”

“By St. Martin, I will,” replied the gelder, “since you wish it. I have ready a knife so sharp that I will present you with his testicles before he has time to say a word.”

“We shall see what you can do,” said the host, “but if you fail, I will never again have anything to do with you.”

All being ready, the table was brought, and the curé, in his doublet, pretended to be in great pain, and promised a bottle of good wine to the gelder.

The host and his servants laid hold of the curé so that he could not get away, and for better security they tied him tightly, and told him that was to make the joke better, and that they would let him go when he wished, and he like a fool believed them. Then came the brave gelder, having a little rasor concealed in his hand, and began to feel the cure’s testicles.

“In the devil’s name,” said the curé, “do it well and with one cut. Touch them first as you can, and afterwards I will tell you which one I want taken out.”

“Very well,” he replied, and lifting up the shirt, took hold of the testicles, which were big and heavy and without enquiring which was the bad one, cut them both out at a single stroke.

The good curé began to yell, and make more ado than ever man made.

“Hallo, hallo!” said the host; “have patience. What is done, is done. Let us bandage you up.”

The gelder did all that was necessary, and then went away, expecting a handsome present from the host.

It need not be said that the curé was much grieved at this deprivation, and he reviled the host, who was the cause of the mischief, but God knows he excused himself well, and said that if the gelder had not disappeared so quickly, he would have served him so that he would never have cut any one again.

“As you imagine,” he said, “I am greatly grieved at your misfortune, and still more that it should have happened in my inn.”

The news soon spread through the town, and it need not be said that many damsels were vexed to find themselves deprived of the cure’s instrument, but on the other hand the long-suffering husbands were so happy that I could neither speak nor write the tenth part of their joy.

Thus, as you have heard, was the curé, who had deceived and duped so many others, punished. Never after that did he dare to show himself amongst men, but soon afterwards ended in grief and seclusion his miserable life.

*****

STORY THE SIXTY-FIFTH -- INDISCRETION REPROVED, BUT NOT PUNISHED.

By The Provost Of Wastennes.

_Of a woman who heard her husband say that an innkeeper at Mont St. Michel was excellent at copulating, so went there, hoping to try for herself, but her husband took means to prevent it, at which she was much displeased, as you will hear shortly._

Often a man says things for which he is sorry afterwards, and so it happened formerly that a good fellow who lived in a village near Mont St. Michel, talked one night at a supper, at which were present his wife, and several strangers and neighbours, of an inn-keeper of Mont St. Michel, and declared, affirmed, and swore on his honour, that this inn-keeper had the finest, biggest, and thickest member in all the country round, and could use it so well that four, five, or six times cost him no more trouble than taking off his hat. All those who were at table listened to this favourable account of the prowess of mine host of Mont St. Michel, and made what remarks they pleased about it, but the person who took the most notice was the lady of the house, the wife of the man who related the story, who had listened attentively, and to whom it seemed that a woman would be most happy and fortunate who had a husband so endowed.

And she also thought in her heart that if she could devise some cunning excuse she would some day go to Mont St. Michel, and put up at the inn kept by the man with the big member, and it would not be her fault if she did not try whether the report were true.

To execute what she had so boldly devised, at the end of six or eight days she took leave of her husband, to go on a pilgrimage to Mont St. Michel; and she invented some clever excuse for her journey, as women well know how to do. Her husband did not refuse her permission to go, though he had his suspicions.

At parting, her husband told her to make an offering to Saint Michael, and that she was to lodge at the house of the said landlord, and he recommended her to him a hundred thousand times.

She promised to accomplish all he ordered, and upon that took leave and went away, much desiring, God knows, to find herself at Mont St. Michel. As soon as she had left, the husband mounted his horse, and went as fast as he could, by another road to that which his wife had taken, to Mont St. Michel, and arrived secretly, before his wife, at the inn kept by the man already mentioned, who most gladly welcomed him. When he was in his chamber, he said to his host,