One Hundred Merrie And Delightsome Stories Part 34

The other withdrew, and began to laugh, but the damsel, who was not the sort of woman to care about trifles, scarcely showed any concern, but quietly let go her hold without brus.h.i.+ng or changing colour, though she was sorry in her heart to let out of her hand what she could have well used in another place.

As you may guess, both before and after that time, either of those two would most willingly have done her a service, and the poor, sick lover was obliged to be a witness of the greatest misfortune which could happen to him, and his poor heart would have driven him to despair, if reason had not come to his help, and caused him to abandon his love affairs, out of which he had never derived any benefit.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 37.jpg THE USE OF DIRTY WATER.]

STORY THE THIRTY-SEVENTH -- THE USE OF DIRTY WATER.

By Monseigneur De La Roche.

_Of a jealous man who recorded all the tricks which he could hear or learn by which wives had deceived their husbands in old times; but at last he was deceived by means of dirty water which the lover of the said lady threw out of window upon her as she was going to Ma.s.s, as you shall hear hereafter._

Whilst others are thinking and ransacking their memories for adventures and deeds fit to be narrated and added to the present history, I will relate to you, briefly, how the most jealous man in this kingdom, in his time, was deceived. I do not suppose that he was the only one who ever suffered this misfortune, but at any rate I will not omit to describe the clever trick that was played upon him.

This jealous old hunks was a great historian, and had often read and re-read all sorts of stories; but the princ.i.p.al end and aim of all his study was to learn and know all the ways and manners in which wives had deceived their husbands. For--thank G.o.d--old histories like Matheolus (*), Juvenal, the Fifteen Joys of Marriage (**), and more others than I can count, abound in descriptions of deceits, tricks, and deceptions of that sort.

(*) _Le Lime_, de Matheolus, a poem of the early part of the 15th Century, written by Jean le Febvre, Bishop of Therouenne. It is a violent satire against women.

(**) A curious old work the authors.h.i.+p of which is still doubtful. It is often ascribed to Antoine de la Sale, who is believed to have partly written and edited the _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_. The allusion is interesting as showing that the Quinze Joyes de mariage was written before the present work.

Our jealous husband had always one or other of these books in his hand, and was as fond of them as a fool is of his bauble,--reading or studying them; and indeed he had made from these books a compendium for his own use, in which all the tricks and deceits practised by wives on their husbands were noted and described.

This he had done in order to be forewarned and on his guard, should his wife perchance use any of the plans or subterfuges chronicled or registered in his book. For he watched his wife as carefully as the most jealous Italian would, and still was not content, so ruled was he by this cursed pa.s.sion of jealousy.

In this delectable state did the poor man live three or four years with his wife, and the only amus.e.m.e.nt she had in that time was to escape out of his hateful presence by going to Ma.s.s, and then she was always accompanied by an old servant, who was charged to watch over her.

A gentle knight, who had heard how the fair lady was watched, one day met the damsel, who was both beautiful and witty, and told her how willing he was to do her a service, that he sighed for her love, and condoled with her evil fortune in being allied to the most jealous wretch there was on the face of the earth, and saying, moreover, that she was the sole person on earth for whom he cared.

"And since I cannot tell you here how much I love you, and many other things which I hope you will be glad to hear, I will, if you wish, put it all in writing and give it you to-morrow, begging also that any small service that I most willingly do for you, be not refused."

She gladly listened, but owing to the presence of Dangier, (*) who was near, hardly replied; nevertheless she said she would be glad to have his letter when it came.

(*) See note page 159.

Her lover was very joyful when he took leave of her, and with good cause, and the damsel said farewell to him in a kind and gracious manner, but the old woman, who watched her, did not fail to ask her what conversation had taken place between her and the man who had just left.

"He brought me news of my mother," she replied; "at which I am very joyful, for she is in good health."

The old woman asked no more, and they returned home.

On the morrow, the lover, provided with a letter written G.o.d knows in what terms, met the lady, and gave her this letter so quickly and cunningly that the old servant, who was watching, saw nothing.

The letter was opened by her most joyfully when she was alone. The gist of the contents was that he had fallen in love with her, and that he knew not a day's happiness when he was absent from her, and finally hoped that she would of her kindness appoint a suitable place where she could give him a reply to this letter.

She wrote a reply in which she said she could love no one but her husband, to whom she owed all faith and loyalty; nevertheless, she was pleased to know the writer was so much in love with her, but, though she could promise him no reward, would be glad to hear what he had to say, but certainly that could not be, because her husband never left her except when she went to church, and then she was guarded, and more than guarded, by the dirtiest old hag that ever interfered with anybody.

The lover, dressed quite differently to what he had been the preceding day, met the lady, who knew him at once, and as he pa.s.sed close to her, received from her hand the letter already mentioned. That he was anxious to know the contents was no marvel. He went round a corner, and there, at his leisure, learned the condition of affairs, which seemed to be progressing favourably.

It needed but time and place to carry out his enterprise, and he thought night and day how this was to be accomplished. At last he thought of a first-rate trick, for he remembered that a lady friend of his lived between the church where his lady went to Ma.s.s and her house, and he told her the history of his love affair, concealing nothing from her, and begging her to help him.

"Whatever I can do for you, I will do with all my heart," she said.

"I thank you," said he. "Would you mind if I met her here?"

"Faith!" she said, "to please you, I do not mind!"

"Well!" he replied, "if ever it is in my power to do you a service, you may be sure that I will remember this kindness."

He was not satisfied till he had written again to his lady-love and given her the letter, in which he said that he had made an arrangement with a certain woman, "who is a great friend of mine, a respectable woman, who can loyally keep a secret, and who knows you well and loves you, and who will lend us her house where we may meet. And this is the plan I have devised. I will be to-morrow in an upper chamber which looks on the street, and I will have by me a large pitcher of water mingled with ashes, which I will upset on you suddenly as you pa.s.s. And I shall be so disguised that neither your old woman, nor anyone else in the world, will recognise me. When you have been drenched with this water, you will pretend to be very angry and surprised, and take refuge in the house, and send your Dangier to seek another gown; and while she is on the road we will talk together."

To shorten the story, the letter was given, and the lady, who was very well pleased, sent a reply.

The next day came, and the lady was drenched by her lover with a pitcher of water and cinders, in such fas.h.i.+on that her kerchief, gown, and other habiliments were all spoiled and ruined. G.o.d knows that she was very astonished and displeased, and rushed into the house, as though she were beside herself, and ignorant of where she was.

When she saw the lady of the house, she complained bitterly of the mischief which had been done, and I cannot tell you how much she grieved over this misadventure. Now she grieved for her kerchief, now for her gown, and another time for her other clothes,--in short, if anyone had heard her, they would have thought the world was coming to an end.

The old woman, who was also in a great rage, had a knife in her hand, with which she sc.r.a.ped the gown as well as she could.

"No, no, my friend! you only waste your time. It cannot be cleaned as easily as that: you cannot do any good. I must have another gown and another kerchief-there is nothing else to be done. Go home and fetch them, and make haste and come back, or we shall lose the Ma.s.s in addition to our other troubles."

The old woman seeing that there was imperative need of the clothes, did not dare to refuse her mistress, and took the gown and kerchief under her mantle, and went home.

She had scarcely turned on her heels, before her mistress was conducted to the chamber where her lover was, who was pleased to see her in a simple petticoat and with her hair down.

Whilst they are talking together, let us return to the old woman, who went back to the house, where she found her master, who did not wait for her to speak, but asked her at once,

"What have you done with my wife? where is she?"

"I have left her," she replied, "at such a person's house, in such a place."

"And for what purpose?" said he.

Then she showed him the gown and the kerchief, and told him about the pitcher of water and ashes, and said that she had been sent to seek other clothes, for her mistress could not leave the place where she was in that state.

"Is that so?" said he. "By Our Lady! that trick is not in my book! Go!

Go! I know well what has happened."

He would have added that he was cuckolded, and I believe he was at that time, and he never again kept a record of the various tricks that had been played on husbands. Moreover, it is believed that he never forgot the trick which had been played on him. There was no need for him to write it down--he preserved a lively memory of it the few good days that he had to live.