TALE LXII.
A lady’s tongue tripped so awkwardly whilst she was telling
a story, as if of another, to a dame of high degree, that
her honour thenceforward bore a stain which she could never
remove.
In the time of King Francis the First there lived a lady of the blood royal, who was endowed with honour, virtue and beauty, and well knew how to tell a story with grace and to laugh at such as might be told to her. (1) This lady being at one of her houses, all her subjects and neighbours came to see her; for she was as much liked as it were possible for woman to be.
1 M. de Lincy thinks that this lady may be Louise of Savoy,
who was very fond of listening to stories of an equivocal
character. This, it may be pointed out, is one of the
reasons why the commentators of the Heptameron suppose her
to be Oisille, though the latter in the conversational
passages following the tales displays considerable prudery
and devoutness. That Louise was a woman of extremely amorous
tendency is well known; we need, indeed, no better proof of
it than her unseemly passion for the Constable de Bourbon
when she was five-and-forty years of age. If she be the lady
of royal blood spoken of above, the incidents of the tale
may have occurred in the Bourbonnais, a considerable portion
of which passed into her hands after the flight of the
Constable from France. It will be noted that allusion is
made to the lady’s subjects, showing that she exercised a
feudal sway. As one of the commentators of the Heptameron has pointed out, Queen Margaret always saw her mother—that
“donna terribilissima!” as De Lussy called her—in such an
ideal light that M. de Lincy’s surmise may well be a correct
one despite the attributes of honour, virtue and beauty
bestowed on the lady whom she speaks of.—Ed.
Among others there came a lady who hearkened whilst the rest told every story they could think of in order to amuse the Princess. This lady then resolved that she would not be behind the others, and accordingly said—
“Madam, I will tell you a fine story, but you must promise me not to speak of it.”
Then she forthwith continued—
“The story, madam, is on my conscience a perfectly true one, and concerns a married lady who lived in all honour with her husband, although he was old and she was young. A gentleman who was her neighbour, seeing her married to this old man, fell in love with her, and importuned her for several years; but never received of her any reply save such as a virtuous woman should make. One day the gentleman bethought him that if he could take her at a disadvantage she might perchance be less harsh towards him, and, after he had for a long while weighed the danger that he might run, his love for the lady wholly banished his fears, and he resolved to find a time and place. He kept excellent watch, and so one morning, when the lady’s husband was going to another of his houses, and leaving at daybreak by reason of the heat, the young gallant came to the house, where he found the lady asleep in her bed, and perceived that the serving-women were gone out of the room.
“Then, without having sense enough to fasten the door, he got into the lady’s bed all booted and spurred as he was, and when she awoke, she was as distressed as she could possibly be. But in spite of any remonstrance that she could make to him, he took her by force, saying that if she should make the matter known he would tell every one that she had sent for him; and at this the lady was so greatly afraid that she durst not cry out. Afterwards, on some of her women coming in, he rose in haste and would have been perceived by none if his spur, which had become fastened in the upper sheet, had not drawn it right off, leaving the lady quite naked in her bed.”