Chapter XVII: Part 17

When the good merchant had thus argued to himself for a long time, he suddenly thought of a remedy for his misfortunes, saying;

“Well, I am in future determined, notwithstanding the number of my years, not to trouble or torment myself with grief, or remorse. At the worst I have but been like the birds, which prepare their nests before they begin to lay their eggs. I have, thank God, riches sufficient for myself, wife, and many children, if it should happen that I have any, nor am I so old, or so devoid of natural vigour, as to lose hope of even having any offspring. What I have to do is to watch and work, and use every endeavour to discover where I shall find a wife fit and proper for me.”

Having finished his soliloquy, he left his chamber, and sent for two of his comrades--merchant-mariners like himself,--and to them he plainly stated his case, and requested them to help to find him a wife, for that was the thing he most desired in the world.

The two merchants, having heard what their comrade had to say, much applauded his determination, and undertook to make all possible endeavours to find him a wife.

Whilst they were making enquiries, our merchant,--as hot to get married as he could be--played the gallant, and sought throughout the city all the youngest and prettiest girls--to the others he paid small heed.

He searched so well that he found one such as he required,--born of honest parents, marvellously beautiful, aged only fifteen or thereabouts, gentle, good-tempered, and well brought up in every respect.

As soon as he knew her virtues and good qualities, he felt such affection and desire that she should be his lawful wife, that he asked her hand of her parents and friends; which, after some slight difficulties that were quickly removed, was given, and the same hour they were betrothed, and security given by him for the dower he was to bestow upon her.

If the good merchant had taken pride and pleasure in his merchandise during the time that he was amassing a fortune, he felt still more when he saw himself certain of being married, and that to a wife by whom he could have fine children.

The wedding was honourably celebrated, with all due pomp, and that feast being over and finished, he forgot all about his former life,--that is to say on the sea--but lived happily and in great pleasure with his fair and fond wife.

But this way of life did not last long, for he soon became tired and bored, and before the first year had expired took a dislike to living at home in idleness and a humdrum domestic existence, and pined for his old business of merchant-mariner, which seemed to him easier and more pleasant than that which he had so willingly undertaken to manage night and day.

He did nothing but devise how he could get to Alexandria, as he used in the old days, and it seemed to him that it was not only difficult but impossible for him to abstain from going to sea. Yet though he firmly resolved to return to his old profession, he concealed his intention from his wife, fearing that she might be displeased.

There were also fears and doubts which disturbed him, and prevented him from executing his designs, for he knew the youth and character of his wife, and he felt sure that if he were absent she would not be able to control herself; and he considered also the mutability and variability of the feminine character, and that the young gallants were accustomed to pass in front of his house to see his wife, even when he was at home,--whence he imagined that in his absence they might come closer, and peradventure even take his place.

For a long time he was tormented by these difficulties and suspicions without saying a word but as he knew that he had lived the best part of his life, he now cared little for wife, marriage, and all that concerned domestic life, and to the arguments and theories which filled his head, provided a speedy solution by saying;--

“It is better to live than to die, and, if I do not quit my household very shortly, it is very certain that I shall not live. But then, shall I leave my fair and affectionate wife? Yes, I will leave her;--she shall henceforth manage for herself as she pleases; it will no longer be incumbent on me. Alas, what shall I do? What a dishonour, what an annoyance it would be for me if she did not continue to guard her chastity. Ah, yes, it is better to live than to die, that I may be able to look after her! But God cannot wish that I should take such care and pains about a woman’s belly without any pay or reward, and receive nothing in return but torture of soul and body. I will not bear all the trouble and anguish of mind that many suffer in living with their wives. It angers me and saddens me to think that God only permits me to live to enjoy the trifling incidents of married life. I want full liberty and freedom to do what I please.”

When the good merchant had finished these sage reflections, he went and found some of his old comrades, and told them that he wished to visit Alexandria with a cargo of merchandise, as he had often previously done in their company,--but he did not tell them of the trouble and anxiety which his married life caused him.

He soon made all arrangements with them, and they told him to be ready to start when the first fair wind came. The sailors and cargo were soon ready, and awaited in a safe place, a fair wind to start.

The good merchant, still firm in his determination, as on the previous days, found his wife alone in her chamber, and that she should not be sad at his departure, addressed her in these words.

“My dearest wife, whom I love better than my life, I beg of you to be of good heart, and show yourself joyful, and be not sad or cast down at what I am about to say to you. I propose--if it be God’s pleasure--to once more visit Alexandria, as I have long been in the habit of doing; and it seems to me that you should not be vexed thereat, seeing that you are aware that that is my business and profession, by which I have acquired riches, houses, name, and fame, and many good friends. The handsome and rich ornaments, rings, garments, and other things with which you are apparelled and ornamented as is no other woman in the city, as you well know, I have acquired by the profit I have made on my merchandise. This journey of mine therefore should not trouble you, for I shall shortly return. And I promise you that if this time,--as I hope,--Fortune should smile upon me, never will I return there again, but this time will take leave of it for ever. You must therefore be of good courage, and I will leave in your hands the disposition, administration, and management of all the goods which I possess; but before I leave I have some requests to make of you.

“The first is, I beg of you to be happy whilst I am on my voyage, and live comfortably; for if I know that such is the case I shall have greater pleasure in my voyage. For the second, you know that nothing should be hidden or concealed between us two, and all honour, profit, and renown should be--as I know they are--common to both of us, and the praise and honour of the one cannot exist without the glory of the other, and similarly the dishonour of the one would be the shame of us both. I wish you to understand that I am not so devoid of sense that I am not aware that I leave you young, beautiful, kind, fresh, and tender, and without the consolation of a husband; and that many men will desire you. And although I firmly believe that you are now fully resolved, nevertheless, when I think of your age and inclinations and the warmth of your desires, it does not seem possible to me that you should not, out of pure necessity and compulsion, enjoy the company of a man during my absence. It is my will and pleasure therefore to permit you to grant those favours which nature compels you to grant. I would beg of you though to respect our marriage vow unbroken as long as you possibly can. I neither intend nor wish to leave you in the charge of any person, but leave you to be your own guardian. Truly, there is no duenna, however watchful, who can prevent a woman from doing what she wishes. When therefore your desires shall prick and spur you on, I would beg you, my dear wife, to act with such circumspection in their execution that they may not be publicly known,--for if you do otherwise, you, and I, and all our friends will be infamous and dishonoured.

“If then you cannot remain chaste, at least take pains to retain your reputation. I will teach you how that is to be done, if the need should arise. You know that in our good city there are plenty of handsome men. From amongst these choose one only, and be content to do with him whatever nature may incline you to do. At all events, I wish that in making your choice you should take particular care that he is not a vagabond, or dishonest, or disreputable person, for great dangers might arise from your acquaintance with such a person, inasmuch as he would, without doubt publish your secret.

“You will select one therefore who is, you are sure, both wise and prudent, and who will take as much pains to conceal your amour as you do yourself. This I beg of you, and that you will promise me honestly and loyally to remember this lesson. I do not advise you to reply in the way that other women are accustomed to when similar proposals are made to them. I know what they would say, which would be somewhat to this effect. ‘Oh, husband! what do you mean by speaking like that? How could you have such a cruel, unjust opinion of me? How can you imagine that I should commit such an abominable crime? No! no! God forbid that I should make you such a promise. I will rather wish that the earth may open and swallow me up alive the day and hour--I will not say commit--but even think of committing such a sin.

“My dear wife, I have shown you this way of replying in order that you may not use the same to me. I firmly and truly believe that at the present moment you are fully determined to remain chaste, and I desire you to remain of that opinion as long as nature will permit you. And understand that I do not wish you to break your vows unless you are unable to battle against the appetites of your frail and weak youth.”

When the good merchant had finished his speech, his fair, kind, and gentle wife, her face all suffused with blushes, trembled, and could not for some moments reply to what her husband had said. Soon her blushes vanished, her confidence returned, and calling up all her courage, she replied in these words;

“My kind, and greatly beloved husband, I assure you that never have I been so disturbed and troubled by any speech I have ever heard, as I am now by your words, by which I learn something that I never heard or guessed. You know my simplicity, youth, and innocence, and you say that it is not possible at my age to avoid committing such a fault, and that you are sure and know positively that when you are away I shall not be able to preserve our marriage vow in its integrity. That speech greatly vexed my heart, and made me tremble, and I do not know how I can reply to your arguments. You have deprived me of the reply I should have made, but I can tell you from the bottom of my heart that with joined hands I beg most humbly of God that he may cause an abyss to open in which I may be thrown, that my limbs may be torn off, and that I may suffer a most cruel death, if ever the day comes when I shall not only be disloyal to our marriage vow, but even think for a brief moment of being disloyal. How, and in what manner I could be brought to commit such a crime, I am unable to comprehend. And as you have forbidden me to reply as I should, telling me that women are accustomed to make elusive and false excuses, I will to give you pleasure, and allay your suspicions, and that you may see that I am ready to obey and keep your commands, promise you this moment with firm and immutable faith and constancy, to await the day of your return in true, pure, and entire chastity of body, and may God forbid that the contrary should happen. Be fully assured that I will obey your orders in every respect. If there is anything else you wish or command, I beg of you to inform me, and I will perform your will (I desire nothing else) and not my own.”

Our merchant, when he heard his wife’s reply, was so overjoyed that he could not refrain from weeping, and said:

“My dearest spouse, since you have of your great kindness given me the promise that I required, I beg of you to keep it.”

The following morning, the good merchant was sent for by his comrades to put to sea. So he took leave of his wife, and commended her to the care of God. Then he put to sea to sail to Alexandria where they arrived in a few days, the wind being favourable, at which place they stayed a long time both to deliver their merchandise and take in fresh cargoes.

During this time the gracious damsel of whom I have spoken remained in the house with, as her only companion, a little girl who served her. As I have said, this fair damsel was but fifteen years of age, therefore any fault that she committed must be imputed, not to a vicious character, but to youth and inexperience.

When the merchant had been absent many days, little by little she began to forget him. As soon as the young men of the city knew of his departure, they came to visit her. At first she would neither leave the house nor show herself, but as they continued to come daily, she, on account of the great pleasure she took in sweet and melodious songs and harmonies of all instruments, which they played outside her door, peeped through the crevices of the windows and the trellis so that she could see the musicians, and they for their part were quite willing to be seen.

In hearing these songs and dances she took so much pleasure, that her mind was filled with love, and the natural warmth of her affections often tempted her to incontinence. So often was she visited in this manner, that in the end her concupiscence and carnal desires conquered, and she was fairly hit by the dart of love. She often thought how easy it was for her to find time and place for any lover, for no one guarded her, and no one could prevent her putting her designs in execution, and she came to the conclusion that her husband was very wise when he said he was positive that she could not preserve continence and chastity, although she wished to keep the promise she had made to him.

“It is right then,” she said to herself, “for me to follow my husband’s advice; by doing which I shall incur no dishonour, since he himself gave me permission, and I shall not violate the promise I made him. I remember rightly that he charged me that if ever I broke my vow of chastity, that I should choose a man who was wise, of good fame, and great virtues, and no other. That is what I will really do, as I may without disobeying my husband’s instructions, and by following his good advice which was ample for my purpose. I suppose that he did not intend that the man should be old, and it seems to me that he should be young, but having as good a reputation for learning and science as any old man. Such was my husband’s advice, I remember.”

At the same time that the damsel was making these reflections, and was searching for a wise and prudent, young man to cool her bowels, there fortunately arrived in the city a very wise young clerk, who had newly arrived from the university of Bologna, where he had been several years without once returning to his native city. Such attention had he given to his studies that there was not in all the country a clerk who enjoyed such a reputation amongst the learned men of the city, whom he assisted continually.

He was accustomed to go every day to the Town Hall on the market-place, and was obliged to pass before the house of the said damsel, who was much struck by his appearance and pleasant manners. And although he had never filled any clerical office, she came to the conclusion that he was a very learned clerk, and fell deeply in love with him, saying to herself that he would be the man to guard her husband’s secret; but how she was to inform him of her great and ardent love, and reveal the secret desires of her mind she knew not,--at which she was much vexed.

She bethought herself that as every day he passed before her house on his way to the market place, that she would be upon her balcony, dressed as handsomely as possible, in order that when he passed he might notice her beauty, and so be led to desire those favours which would not be refused him.

Many times did the damsel so show herself, although that had not previously been her custom, and though she was pleasant to gaze upon, and her youthful mind was filled with thoughts of love, the wise clerk never perceived her, for in walking he glanced neither to the right nor left.

This plan of the damsel’s was not as successful as she imagined it would be. She was very sorrowful, and the more she thought of the clerk, the more ardent did her desires become. At last, after a number of plans had suggested themselves to her, and which for the sake of brevity I pass over, she determined to send her little servant-maid to him. So she called her, and ordered her to go and ask for such-an-one,--that is to say, the learned clerk--and when she had found him, to tell him to come in haste to the house of such a damsel, the wife of so-and-so; and if he should ask what the damsel wanted, she was to reply that she knew not, but only knew that he was urgently required to come at once.

The little girl learned her message, and went forth to seek him; and she was soon shown a house where he was at dinner with a great company of his friends, and other people of high degree.

The girl entered the house, and saluting all the company, asked for the clerk, and delivered her message properly. The good clerk, who had been acquainted since his youth with the merchant of whom the girl spoke, and knew his house as he did his own, but was not aware that he was married or who was his wife, imagined that during the husband’s absence, the wife had need of advice on some weighty matter, for he knew that the husband was away, and had no suspicion of the cause of his invitation. He said to the girl;

“My dear, go and tell your mistress that as soon as dinner is over I will come to her.”

The messenger duly delivered these words, and God knows how she was received by her mistress. When she heard that the clerk, her lover, would come, she was more joyful than ever woman was, and owing to the great joy she felt at having the clerk in the house, she trembled and did not know what to do. She caused the house to be well swept, and fair herbage to be spread in her chamber, covered the bed and the couch with rich tapestry and embroidery, and dressed and adorned herself with her most precious belongings.

Then she waited a little time, which seemed to her marvellous long on account of the great desire she had, and so impatient was she for his arrival, and that she might perceive him coming afar off, she went up to her chamber and then came down again, and went now hither, now thither, and was so excited that it seemed as though she were out of her senses.

At last she went up to her chamber, and there laid out all the riches and delicacies that she had prepared to feast her lover. She made the little servant-maid stay below to let the clerk in, and conduct him to her mistress.

When he arrived, the servant-maid received him, and let him in and closed the door, leaving his servants outside, whom she told that they were to await their master’s return.

The damsel, hearing that her lover had arrived, could not refrain from running down stairs to meet him, and she saluted him politely. Then she took his hand and led him to the chamber which she had prepared. He was much astonished when he arrived there, not only by the diversity of splendours that he saw, but also by the great beauty of the fair girl who conducted him.

As soon as they were in the chamber, she sat down on a stool by the couch, and made him sit on another by her side, and there they both sat for a certain time, without saying a word, for each waited for the other to speak, though in very different ways, for the clerk imagined that the damsel would consult him on some great and difficult matter, and wished her to begin; whilst she, on the other hand, knowing how wise and prudent he was, believed that he would know why he had been sent for without her telling him.

When she saw that he made no attempt to speak, she began, and said;

“My very dear and true friend, and learned man, I will tell you at once why I have sent for you. I believe that you are well-acquainted and familiar with my husband. He has left me, in the condition you now see me, whilst he goes to Alexandria to bring back merchandise, as he has long been used. Before his departure, he told me that when he was away, he was sure that my weak and fragile nature would cause me to lose my chastity, and that necessity would compel me to have intercourse with a man to quench the natural longings I should be sure to feel after his departure. And truly I deem him a very wise man, for that which I thought impossible I find has happened, for my youth, beauty, and nature rebel against wasting away in vain. That you may understand me plainly I will tell you that my wise and thoughtful husband when he left, knew that as all young and tender plants dry and wither when they cannot fulfil the needs of their nature, so it was likely to be with me. And seeing clearly that my nature and constitution were likely to be controlled by my natural desires, which I could not long resist, he made me swear and promise that, if nature should force me to become unchaste, I would choose a wise man of good position, who would carefully guard our secret. I do not think there is in all the city a man more worthy than yourself, for you are young and very wise. I do not suppose then that you will refuse me or repel me. You see me as I am, and you may, during the absence of my husband, supply his place if you wish, and without the knowledge of any one; place, time, and opportunity all favour us.”

The gentleman was much surprised and moved at what the lady said, but he concealed his emotion. He took her right hand and with a smiling face addressed her in these words:

“I ought to render infinite thanks to Dame Fortune, who has to-day given me so much pleasure, and the attainment of the greatest happiness I could have in this world; never in my life will I call myself unfortunate, since Fortune has granted me this great favour. I may certainly say that I am to-day the happiest of men, for when I consider, my beautiful and kind mistress, how we may joyously pass our days together, without any person’s knowledge or interference, I almost faint with joy. Where is the man more favoured by Fortune than I am? If it were not for one thing which forms a slight obstacle to our love affair, I should be the luckiest man on earth, and I am greatly vexed and annoyed that I cannot overcome that difficulty.”

When the damsel, who had never imagined that any difficulty could arise, heard that there was an obstacle which would prevent her indulging her passions, she was very sad and sorrowful, and begged him to say what it was, in order that she might find a remedy if possible.

“The obstacle,” he said, “is not so great that it cannot be removed in a little time, and, since you are kind enough to wish to know what it is, I will tell you. When I was studying at the University of Bologna, the people of the city rose in insurrection against their ruler. I was accused, along with some others, my companions, of having stirred up this insurrection, and I was closely imprisoned. When I found myself in prison, and in danger of losing my life, though I knew I was innocent, I made a vow to God, promising that if He would deliver me from prison and restore me to my friends and relations in this city, I would, for love of Him, fast for a whole year on bread and water, and during that fast would not allow my body to sin. Now I have, by His aid, accomplished the greater part of the year and but little remains. I would beg of you therefore, since it is your pleasure to choose me as your lover, not to change again for any man in the world, and not to fret over the little delay that is necessary for me to accomplish my fast, and which is now but a very short time, and would have been long since over if I had dared to confide in some one else who could help me, for any days that others will fast for me are counted as though I fasted myself. And as I perceive the great love and confidence you have for me, I will, if you wish, place a trust in you that I have never put in my brothers, nor my friends, nor relations. I will ask you to help me with the remaining part of the fast to accomplish the year, that I may the sooner aid you in the matter you have desired of me. My kind friend, I have but sixty days to fast, which--if it is your will and pleasure--I will divide in two parts, of which you shall have one and I will have the other, on condition that you promise to perform your part honestly and without fraud, and when all is completed, we will pass our days pleasantly. If therefore, you are willing to help me in the manner I have said, tell me at once.”

It is to be supposed that this long delay was hardly pleasing to the young woman, but as her lover had asked her so kindly, and also because she wished the fast to be finished, that she might accomplish her desires with her lover, and thinking also that thirty days would not much interfere with her intentions, she promised to perform her share without fraud, deception, or imposition.

The good gentleman, seeing that he had won his case and that his affairs were prospering, took leave of the damsel, (who suspected no harm) and told her that as it was on his road from his home to the market-place to pass by her house, he would, without fail, often come and visit her, and so he departed.

The fair damsel began the next day her fast, making a rule for herself that during all the time of the fast she would eat nothing but bread and water until the sun had set.

When she had fasted three days, the wise clerk, as he was going to the market-place at the accustomed time, called upon the lady, with whom he talked long, and then, as he was saying farewell, asked her if she had commenced the fast? She replied she had.

“Can you continue,” he said, “and keep your promise until all is finished?”

“I can entirely,” she replied; “do not fear.”

He took leave and departed, and she went on from day to day with her fast, and kept her vow as she had promised, such being her good-nature. Before she had fasted eight days, her natural heat began to decrease so much that she was forced to change her clothes and put on furs and thick garments, which are usually only worn in winter, instead of the light robes which she wore before she began the fast.

On the fifteenth day, she received a visit from her lover, who found her so weak that she could hardly move about the house, but the poor simpleton was firmly resolved not to practise any trickery, so deeply in love was she, and so firmly resolved to persevere with this fast, for the sake of the joys and pleasant delights which awaited her at the termination.

The clerk, when he entered the house, and saw her so feeble, said;

“What kind of face is that, and how is your health? Now I see that you are sorry you undertook this long fast! Ah, my sweetest love! have a firm and constant mind. We have to-day achieved the half of our task: if your nature is weak, conquer it by firmness and constancy of heart, and do not break your faithful promise.”

He admonished her so kindly, that she took courage, so that it seemed to her that the remaining fifteen days would hardly be noticed.

The twentieth came, and the poor simpleton had lost all colour and seemed half dead, and felt no more desires of concupiscence than if she had been really dead. She was obliged to take to her bed and continually remain there, and then, it occurred to her mind that the clerk had caused her to fast to punish her carnal appetites, and she came to the conclusion that his methods were ingenious and effective, and would not have been thought of by a less clever and good man.

Nevertheless, she was not less resolved to go on to the ead, and thoroughly fulfil her promise.

On the last day but one of the fast, she sent for the clerk, who, when he saw her in bed asked her if she had lost courage now that there was only one day more to run?

But she, interrupting him, replied;

“Ah, my good friend, you loved me with a true and perfect love, and not dishonourably, as I dared to love you. Therefore I shall esteem you, as long as God gives life to me and to you, as my dearest and best friend, who protected, and taught me to protect, my chastity, and the honour and good name, of me, my husband, my relatives, and my friends. Blessed also be my dear husband, whose advice and counsels I have kept, to the great solace of my heart. But for you, my friend, I render you such thanks as I may, for your honourable conduct and your great kindness to me, for which I can never sufficiently requite you, nor can my friends.”

The good and wise clerk, seeing that he had achieved his object, took leave of the fair damsel, and gently admonished her and advised her that she should in future correct her body by abstinence and fasting whenever she felt any prickings of lust. By which means she lived chastely until the return of her husband, who knew nothing of the matter, for she concealed it from him--and so also did the clerk.

THE END.

NOTES.

[Footnote 1: This story is taken from an old _fabliau_ entitled _Les Deux Changeurs_, and has been copied by Malespini, Straparolla, and other Italian writers. Brantôme, in _Les Dames Galantes_, records that, “Louis, Duc d’Orléans was a great seducer of Court ladies, and always the greatest. A beautiful and noble lady was sleeping with him when her husband came into the chamber to wish the Duke good-day. The Duke covered the lady’s head with the sheet, and uncovered the rest of her body, and allowed the husband to look and touch as much as he liked, but forbade him, as he valued his life, to uncover her head--And the best of it was, that the next night, the husband being in bed with his wife told her that the Duke had shown him the most beautiful naked woman that ever he saw, but as to her face he could not report, being forbidden to see it. I leave you to imagine what his wife thought!” The lady was,--scandal averred--Mariette d’Enghien, the mother of the brave and handsome Comte de Dunois, known in French history as “the bastard of Orléans.” In the M. S. discovered by Mr. Thomas Wright in the Hunterian Library at Glasgow, this story is ascribed to “Monseigneur le Duc,” as is also the following one.]

[Footnote 3: Taken from the _Facetiae_ of Poggio. It has been imitated by Straparolo, Malespini--whom it will be unnecessary to mention each time as he has copied the whole of the _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_ with hardly one exception--Estienne (_Apologie pour Hérodote_) La Fontaine (_Contes_, lib II, conte II) and others.

Monseigneur de la Roche, the author of the story, was Chamberlain to the Duke of Burgundy, at a salary of 36 _sols_ per month. He was one of the wisest councillors of Philippe le Bel and Charles le Téméraire, and after the death of the latter was created Grand Seneschal of Burgundy. He died about 1498. He was one of the most prolific of all the contributors to the _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_, and related Nos 3, 8, 10, 12, 15, 18, 36, 37, 41, 44, 45, 47, 48, and 52.]

[Footnote 4: This and the three following stories are all original.]

[Footnote 5: An interesting anecdote of the “warlike and martial Talbot.” Philippe de Laon was “squire of the stables” to the Duke of Burgundy in 1461. He contributed also Nos. 20, 21, 66, 67, 74, and 76.]

[Footnote 6: Jean de Lanoy (Launoy, in Vérard’s 1st ed.) created a knight of the Golden Fleece in 1451; an officer of the household of the D. of Burgundy. Louis XI, on his accession, created him Governor of Lille, and Bailli of Amiens, and sent him on a secret mission to the King of England. Charles le Téméraire, indignant with Lanoy for having gone over to his enemy, confiscated all his possessions in Brabant. After the death of Charles, Lanoy went back to Burgundy, and took an important share in the political events of the time. In some editions stories Nos 82, and 92 are ascribed to him; in others, the one is by Jehan Marten, and the other by “the Editor.”]

[Footnote 8: Taken from Poggio (_Repensa merces_). Has been imitated by La Fontaine (_Contes_ lib III, conte V.)]

[Footnote 9: An old story which forms the subject of a “fable” by Enguerrand d’Oisi (_Le Meunier d’Aleu_) also used by Boccaccio (Decameron 8th Day, 4th Story) and Poggio. Has since been imitated by Margaret of Navarre (story VIII) Boucher, Chapuys, and La Fortaine (_les Quiproquos_).]

[Footnote 10: So far as I am aware, this story first appeared in _Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_. It was subsequently imitated by the Author of _Les Joyeuses Adventures_, and La Fontaine (_Contes_ lib I. _conte_ XII.)]

[Footnote 11: Taken from Poggio; afterwards used by Rabelais as “Hans Carvel’s Ring”, _Pantagruel_, lib 3, chap 28.]

[Footnote 12: The story is found in Poggio and the _Cente Nouvelle Antiche_. There have been many modern imitations, culminating in La Fontaine (_Contes_, lib 2. conte XII).]

[Footnote 13: By Jean d’Enghien, Sieur de Kessergat, an official at the Court of Burgundy, and also “Amant” or keeper of the Archives at Brussels. See also No. 53.]

[Footnote 14: Can be traced back to Josephus (_History of the Jews_ lib XVIII. chap XIII.) Also found in Boccaccio, La Fontaine, and Marmontel (_La Mari sylphe_).

Jean de Crequy was a knight of the Golden Fleece, and one of the twelve nobles who carried the Duke’s body at the funeral of Philippe le Bel. This is the only story he contributed.]

[Footnote 16: A very old story, probably of Eastern origin. It has been used by many story-tellers and is found in Boccaccio (_Dec_. day VII, story VI) the _Gesta Romanorum_, and in several of the collections of fabliaux. As for the versions of later date than the _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_, they are still more numerous. At least four of the followers of Boccaccio, also Marguerite of Navarre (_Heptameron_), Estienne (_Apologie pour Hérodote_) and several others have used it, to my knowledge.]

[Footnote 18: Found in Boccaccio, Poggio, and several of the _fabliaux_. Copied several times during the 17th and 18th centuries, French writers apparently thinking that “the gentleman of Burgundy” acted up to his title, and was not a mean and contemptible scoundrel as most Englishmen would deem him.]

[Footnote 19: An amusing story, borrowed from the troubadours, and since copied by Sansovino, Chapuys, Grécourt, and the author of _Joueuses Adventures_.

Philippe Vignier was _valet de chambre_ to the Duke of Burgundy in 1451. No. 86 is also ascribed to him in Mr. Wright’s edition.]

[Footnote 21: From Poggio (_Priapus vis_) and also forms the subject of one of La Fontaine’s _Contes_.]

[Footnote 22: Caron was “clerk of the chapel” to the Duke of Burgundy.]

[Footnote 23: From an old _fabliau_; since copied by several writers, French and Italian.

The author’s name is given as Commesuram by Verard and as de Qucevrain in Mr. Wright’s edition. He is possibly identical with Louis de Luxembourg, Count of St. Pol, whose name appears at the head of story 39. He also contributed Nos. 62 and 72.]

[Footnote 24: Taken from an old English ballad included in Percy’s Reliques. It is curious that the author--de Fiennes--bears the same name as an English nobleman--Lord Saye and Sele.

Thebaut de Luxembourg (Monseigneur de Fiennes) after the death of his wife, Phillipine de Melun, turned monk, and lived to be Abbot of Igny and Orcamp, and finally Bishop of Mans. He died in 1477. He also wrote No. 43.]

[Footnote 25: Monseigneur de Saint Yon Was cup-bearer to Philippe le Bel, with a salary of 100 francs a year.]

[Footnote 26: Nothing is known of M. de Foquessoles the writer of this story.]

[Footnote 27: The name of de Beauvoir attached to this story proves that the tales were not edited till after 1461. For Jean de Montespedan followed Louis when he returned to take the throne, and was created by him seigneur of Beauvoir. He was a faithful follower of Louis, and in 1460 carried a letter from the Dauphin to Charles VII--no pleasant, or even safe, task. He also wrote No. 30.]

[Footnote 28: Michault de Changy was a Privy Councillor, Chamberlain, Chief Carver, and afterwards Steward, to Dukes Philip and Charles. He was the trusty confidant and adviser of the latter, who loaded him with favours. After the death of Charles le Téméraire, Louis XI confirmed de Changy in all the offices which he held in Burgundy. See also Nos. 40, 64, 79, and 80.]

[Footnote 31: An almost identical story is told of Henri de Guise in the _Historiettes_ of Tallemant des Réaux.]

Jean d’Estuer, Seigneur de la Barde was a trusty servant of Louis XI and successively Seneschal of Limousin, Ambassador (or rather secret agent) to England, Seneschal of Lyon, and Governor of Perpignan.]

[Footnote 32: Taken from Poggio, and used afterwards by La Fontaine. De Villiers became one of the most trusted servants of Louis XI, and conducted many difficult and delicate negotiations for him.]

[Footnote 34: The original of this story is an old _fabliau_. It has been often imitated in more recent times.]

[Footnote 38: From Boccaccio (_Dec_., day VII, nov VIII) but is of Eastern origin, and is found in Bidpai. It was probably brought to France by the Crusaders, for it is met with in the _fabliaux_.

Antoine de Chateauneuf, Baron de Lau, was a favourite of Louis XI, who bestowed on him some important offices, and large sums of money. He afterwards fell into disgrace, and was imprisoned in the castle of Usson, in Auvergne, but managed to escape in 1468, retired to Burgundy, and seems to have made his peace with Louis and been restored to favour, for he was Governor of Perpignan in 1472. He died before 1485.]

[Footnote 39: The Comte de Saint Pol has been thought to be identical with M. de Commesuram, the author of several of the _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_. Saint Pol occupied an important part in history, and was Constable of France, but he tried to play a double game, and betrayed in turn both Louis and Charles the Bold. At last he was arrested, condemned, and executed, December, 1475.]

[Footnote 42: Hervé Meriadech, a Breton squire and gallant soldier, who performed several gallant feats of arms. Louis XI named him Governor of Tournay in 1461.]

[Footnote 46: Much resembles No. XII. The author is believed to be Chrestien de Dygoigne, whose name appears at the head of story No. 68.]

[Footnote 47: This is believed to be a true story. The person who got rid of his wife in this cunning way was Caffrey Carles, President of the Parliament of Grenoble. He was skilled in Latin and “the humanities”--in the plural only it would appear--and was chosen by Anne of Brittany, the wife of Louis XII, to teach her daughter, Renée, afterwards Duchess of Perrara.

The story is so dramatic that it has been often imitated.]

[Footnote 50: By Antoine de la Sale, a short appreciation of whose literary merits appears in the Introduction. He has appended his own name to this story; in other cases he appears as “L’Acteur” that is to say the “Editor.” (See No. 51). The story is taken from Sacchetti or Poggio. The idea has suggested itself to many writers, including Lawrence Sterne, in Tristram Shandy.]

[Footnote 52: Taken from Sacchetti.]

[Footnote 59: by Poncelet, or Pourcelet, one of the Council of the Duke of Burgundy.]

[Footnote 60: by Poncelet, or Pourcelet, one of the Council of the Duke of Burgundy. No. 60 is from an old fabliau, (_Frère Denise, cordelier_) and is to be found in the _Heptameron_, the _Apologie pour Hérodote_ etc.]

[Footnote 61: by Poncelet, or Pourcelet, one of the Council of the Duke of Burgundy. No. 61 is also from an old _fabliau_, (_Les Cheveux coupe’s_). Mr. Wright also credits him with No. 89.]

[Footnote 63: is related by Montbleru himself, according to Mr. Wright’s edition, but in Vérard there is no author’s name.]

[Footnote 64: From an old _fabliau_, and often imitated.]

[Footnote 69: M. Leroux de Lincy believes that Le Sage took the story of Dona Mencia,--intercalated in _Gil Blas_--from this tale.]

[Footnote 75: Gui, Seigneur de Thalemas died, without issue, in 1463.]

[Footnote 76: Taken from the _Facetiae_ of Poggio.]

[Footnote 78: This story is originally found in Boccaccio (_Dec_. day VII, nov V) and in an old _fabliau_. (_Le Chevalier qui fist sa femme confesser_). La Fontaine has imitated it. See note on No. 82.]

[Footnote 79: Taken from the _Facetiae_ of Poggio.]

[Footnote 80: Taken from the _Facetiae_ of Poggio.]

[Footnote 81: By M. de Waulvrin (Vaurin), Chamberlain to the Duke of Burgundy. He wrote a history of England and France from the earliest times to 1471. Also contributed No. 83.]

[Footnote 82: In the Table of Contents of Vérard’s edition, this story is ascribed to Monseigneur de Lannoy, but at the head of the story itself the name of the author is given as Jean Martin, who also wrote No. 78. Jean Martin was chief _sommelier du corps_ to Philippe le Bel. After the death of that Duke he did not remain in the service of Charles le Téméraire, but retired to Dijon, where he died, 28th Nov. 1475.]

[Footnote 84: In the Table of Contents this story is ascribed to the Marquis de Rothelin. He was Marquis de Hocheberg, Comte de Neufchâtel (Switzerland) Seigneur de Rothelin etc. Marshal of Burgundy, and Grand Seneschal of Provence. In 1491, he was appointed Grand Chamberlain of France. He died in 1503.]

[Footnote 85: The story is taken from an old _fabliau (Le Forgeron de Creil)_ and has been used also by Sachetti, Des Periers and others. No author’s name is given in Vêrard, but in the M.S. from which Mr. Wright worked, the name of M. de Santilly is found at the head of this tale.]

[Footnote 88: Found also in Boccaccio (_Dec_. day VIII, nov. VII). Poggio (_Fraus mulieris_) and in several of the collections of _fabliaux (La Bourgeoise d’Orléans)_.

Mr. Wright gives Alardin (who also contributed No. 77) as the author. An Alardin Bournel returned to France with Louis XI in 1461.]

[Footnote 90: Taken from the _Facetiae_ of Poggio.]

[Footnote 91: Taken from the _Facetiae_ of Poggio.]

[Footnote 93: Taken from the _Facetiae_ of Poggio. According to Mr. Wright, by Timoléon Vignier, possibly a brother of Philippe Vignier.]

[Footnote 95: Taken from the _Facetiae_ of Poggio.]

[Footnote 96: An exceedingly old story, found in a _fabliau_ by Rutebeuf, Poggio’s _Facetiae (Canis testamentum)_ etc. It also occurs in a collection of Russian folk-lore tales.]

[Footnote 99: Also from Poggio’s _Facetiae (Sacerdotis virtus)_. Several of the saints have performed the same miracle in order to avoid the terrible sin of eating meat on a Friday. It was amongst the meritorious acts of one--St. Johannes Crucis--who was canonized as recently as 1840.]