Another damsel I have heard of, and could give her name, who hearing of the wonders of the city of Venice, its singular beauties and the liberties there enjoyed of all, and especially of harlots and courtesans, did exclaim to one of her bosom friends, “I would to God we had despatched thither all our wealth by letter of credit, and were there arrived ourselves for to lead the gay and happy existence of its courtesans, a life none other can come near, even though we were Empresses of all the whole world!” Truly a good wish and an excellent! And in very deed I opine they that be fain of such a life could hardly dwell in a better spot.
No less do I admire another wish, expressed by a lady of former days. She was questioning a poor slave escaped from the Turks as to the tortures and sufferings these did inflict on him and other unhappy Christian captives, who did tell her enough and to spare of cruelties so inflicted of every sort and kind. Presently she did ask him what they did to women. “Alas and alas! Madam,” said he, “they do it to them, and go on doing it, till they die.”—“Well! I would to God,” she cried, “I might die so, a martyr to the faith.”
Three great Ladies, of whom one was a maid, being together one day, as I am told, did begin telling their wishes. One said, “I would fain have an apple-tree that should bear every year as many golden apples as it doth common fruit.” The second, “I would have a meadow that should yield me jewels and precious stones as many as it doth flowers.” The third, which was a maid, “And I would choose a dovecote, whereof the openings should be worth as much to me as such and such a lady’s coop, such and such a great King’s favourite, whose name I will not speak; only I should like mine to be visited of more pigeons than is hers.”
These dames were of a different complexion from a certain Spanish lady, whose life is writ in the History of Spain, and who, one day when Alfonzo the Great, King of Aragon, made a state entry into Saragossa, threw herself on her knees before his Majesty to ask justice of him. The King signifying his willingness to hear her, she did ask to speak to him in private, and he did grant her this favour. Hereupon she laid a complaint against her husband, for that he would lie with her two and thirty times a month, by day no less than a-nights, in such wise that he gave her never a minute of rest or respite. So the King did send for the husband and learned of him ’twas true, the man deeming he could not be in the wrong seeing it was his own wife; then the King’s council being summoned to deliberate on the matter, his Majesty did issue decree and ordered that he should touch her but six times,—not without expressing his much marvel at the exceeding heat and puissance of the fellow, and the extraordinary coldness and continence of the wife, so opposite to the natural bent of other women (so saith the story), which be ever ready to clasp hands and beseech their husbands or other men to give them enough of it, and do make sore complaint an if these do give to others what is their share by rights.
Very different from this last was another lady, a young girl of a good house, who the day after her wedding, recounting over to her companions her adventures in the night just done, “What!” cried she, “and is that all? For all I had heard some of you say, and other women, and men to boot, which do boast them so bold and gallant, and promise such mountains of wondrous deeds, why! o’ my faith, friends and comrades mine, the man (meaning her husband), that made himself out so hot a lover and valiant a wight, and so fine a runner at the ring, did run but four all counted,—as it were the regular three for the ring and one for the ladies.” We can but suppose, as she made such complaint of scanty measure, she would fain have had a round dozen to her share; but everyone is not like the Spanish gentleman of our last story.
This is how they do make mock of their husbands. So one, who when just wed on her first marriage night, did play the prude and was for obstinately resisting her husband. But he did bethink him to declare that, and if he had to take his big dagger, ’twould be another game altogether, and she would have something to cry out for; whereat the child, fearing the big weapon he did threaten her withal, did yield her instantly to his wishes. But next time, she was no longer afeared, and not content with the little one, did ask at first go off for the big one he had threatened her with the night before. To which the husband replied he had never a big one, and had said so but in jest; so she must e’en be satisfied with what little provision he had about him. Then she cried, “Nay! ’tis very ill done, so to make mock of poor, simple maids!” I wot not whether we should call this damsel simple and ignorant, and not rather knowing and artful, as having tried the thing before. I do refer the question to the learned for decision.
Bien plus estait simple une autre fille, laquelle s’estant plaincte à la justice que un gallant l’ayant prise par force, et lui enquis sur ce fait, il respondit: “Messieurs, je m’en rapporte à elle s’il est orai, et si elle i’a pris mon cas et l’a mis de sa main propre dans lie sien.—Ha! Messieurs, (dit la fille) il est bien orai cela, mais qu’il ne l’enst fait? Car, amprés qu’il m’ent couchée et trousée, il me mit sou cas roide et poinctu comme un baston contre la ventre, et m’en domisit de si grands coups que j’ens peur qu’il me le percast et m’y fist im trou. Dame! je lui pris ahers et le mis dans le tron qui estoit tout fait.” Si cette fille estoit simplette, on le contrefaisoit, j m’en rapporte.[90*]
I will now tell a couple of stories of two married women, of as great a simplicity as the last,—or, if you prefer it so, of as great artfulness. The first was a very great lady of mine acquaintance, a very fine woman and much sought after for this reason. One day a very great Prince did make offers to her, pressing her right eagerly and promising her very fine and most advantageous conditions, rank and riches without end for herself and her husband, so much so that she did hearken at first and give a willing ear to such seductive temptations. However she would not right off consent, but in her simplicity as a new made wife, knowing naught of the wicked world, she did come and reveal the whole matter to her husband, asking his advice whether she should do it or no. The husband firing up instantly, cried, “Never, never, by God! little wife; what are you talking about, what would you be at? ’Tis a foul deed, an irreparable stain on both of us!”—“But, Sir,” returned the lady, “we shall both be such grand folk, no one will have a word to say against us.” In a word the husband did refuse absolutely; but the lady, beginning presently to pluck up a spirit and understand the world, was loath to lose the chance, and did take her fling with the said Prince and others beside, quite forgetting her erstwhile simpleness. I have heard the story told by one which had it of the Prince in question. The lady too had confided it to him; and he had chid her, counselling her that in such affairs one should never consult the husband, who was of necessity a prejudiced party.
Not less simple-minded, or very little, was another young married dame I have heard of, to whom one day an honourable gentleman did proffer his love, at the husband’s very elbow, who for the moment was holding discourse with another lady. The suitor did suddenly put son instrument entre les mains. Elle le prit et, le serrant fort étroitement et se tournant vers son mari, lui dit: “Mon mari, voyez le beau présent que me fait ce gentilhomme; le recevraije? dites-le-moi.” Le pauvre gentilhomme, étonné, retire à soi son épervier de si grande rudesse que, recontrant une pointe de diamant qu’elle avait au doigt, le lui esserta de telle façon d’un bout à l’autre qu’elle le crut perdre du tout, and suffered very great pain and even came in danger of his life. He rushed frantically from the room, watering all the place with his gore which flowed in torrents. The husband made no ado about running after him to utter any recriminations on the matter; all he did was to burst out a-laughing heartily, at once at the simplicity of his poor little wife, and because the fellow was so soundly punished.
Well! here is a village story I must needs tell, for ’tis not a bad one. A village wench, as they were leading her to church on her wedding-day to the sound of tabor and flute, and with much rustic ceremony, chancing to catch sight of her girlhood’s lover, did shout out these words to him, “Farewell, Pierre, farewell! I’ve got.... You’ll never give it me any more. My mother’s married me now,”—blurting the word right out. Her simplicity was no less admirable than the soft regret she showed for past days.