Ennasuite, who took these words to herself, could not refrain from saying--

"Provided the beasts did not bite me, their company would be more pleasant to me than that of men, who are choleric and intolerable. But I abide by what I have said, that, if my husband were in a like danger, I should not leave him to die."

"Beware," said Nomerfide, "of loving too fondly, for excess of love will deceive both him and you. There is a medium in all things, and through lack of knowledge love often gives birth to hate."

"Methinks," said Simontault, "you have not carried your discourse so far without having an instance to confirm it. If, then, you know such a one, I give you my place that you may tell it to us."

"Well," said Nomerfide, "the tale shall, as is my wont, be a short and a merry one."

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_TALE LXVIII_.

_An apothecary's wife, finding that her husband made no great account of her, and wishing to be better loved by him, followed the advice that he had given to a "commere" (1) of his, whose sickness was of the same kind as her own; but she prospered not so well as the other, and instead of love reaped hate_.

1 Mr W. Kelly has pointed out (Bohn's _Heptameron_, p. 395) that in France the G.o.dfather and G.o.dmother of a child are called in reference to each other compere and commere, terms implying mutual relations of an extremely friendly kind. "The same usage exists in all Catholic countries," adds Mr Kelly, "and one of the novels of the _Decameron_ is founded on a very general opinion in Italy that an amorous connection between a _compadre_ and his _commadre_ partook almost of the nature of incest."

In the town of Pau in Beam there was an apothecary whom men called Master Stephen. He had married a virtuous wife and a thrifty, with beauty enough to content him. But just as he was wont to taste different drugs, so did he also with women, that he might be the better able to speak of all kinds. His wife was greatly tormented by this, and at last lost all patience; for he made no account of her except by way of penance during Holy Week.

One day when the apothecary was in his shop, and his wife had hidden herself behind him to listen to what he might say, a woman, who was "commere" to the apothecary, and was stricken with the same sickness as his own wife, came in, and, sighing, said to him--

"Alas, good G.o.dfather, I am the most unhappy woman alive. I love my husband better than myself, and do nothing but think of how I may serve and obey him; but all my labour is wasted, for he prefers the wickedest, foulest, vilest woman in the town to me. So, G.o.dfather, if you know of any drug that will change his humour, prithee give it me, and, if I be well treated by him, I promise to reward you by all means in my power."

The apothecary, to comfort her, said that he knew of a powder which, if she gave it to her husband with his broth or roast, after the fashion of Duke's powder, (2) would induce him to entertain her in the best possible manner. The poor woman, wishing to behold this miracle, asked him what the powder was, and whether she could have some of it. He declared that there was nothing like powder of cantharides, of which he had a goodly store; and before they parted she made him prepare this powder, and took as much of it as was needful for her purpose. And afterwards she often thanked the apothecary, for her husband, who was strong and l.u.s.ty, and did not take too much, was none the worse for it.

2 Boaistuau and Gruget call this preparation _poudre de Dun_, as enigmatical an appellation as _poudre de Duc_. As for the specific supplied by the apothecary, the context shows that this was the same aphrodisiac as the Marquis de Sades put to such a detestable use at Ma.r.s.eilles in 1772, when, after fleeing from justice, he was formally sentenced to death, and broken, in effigy, upon the wheel. See P.

Lacroix's _Curiosites de l'histoire de France, IIeme Serie_, Paris, 1858.--Ed.

The apothecary's wife heard all this talk, and thought within herself that she had no less need of the recipe than her husband's "commere."

Observing, therefore, the place where her husband put the remainder of the powder, she resolved that she would use some of it when she found an opportunity; and this she did within three or four days. Her husband, who felt a coldness of the stomach, begged her to make him some good soup, but she replied that a roast with Duke's powder would be better for him; whereupon he bade her go quickly and prepare it, and take cinnamon and sugar from the shop. This she did, not forgetting also to take the remainder of the powder given to the "commere," without any heed to dose, weight or measure.

The husband ate the roast, and thought it very good. Before long, however, he felt its effects, and sought to soothe them with his wife, but this he found was impossible, for he felt all on fire, in such wise that he knew not which way to turn. He then told his wife that she had poisoned him, and demanded to know what she had put into the roast. She forthwith confessed the truth, telling him that she herself required the recipe quite as much as his "commere." By reason of his evil plight, the poor apothecary could belabour her only with hard words; however, he drove her from his presence, and sent to beg the Queen of Navarre's apothecary (3) to come and see him. This the Queen's apothecary did, and whilst giving the other all the remedies proper for his cure (which in a short time was effected) he rebuked him very sharply for his folly in counselling another to use drugs that he was not willing to take himself, and declared that his wife had only done her duty, inasmuch as she had desired to be loved by her husband.

3 It was from her apothecary no doubt that Queen Margaret heard this story.--Ed.

Thus the poor man was forced to endure the results of his folly in patience, and to own that he had been justly punished in being brought into such derision as he had proposed for another.

"Methinks, ladies, this woman's love was as indiscreet as it was great."

"Do you call it loving her husband," said Hircan, "to give him pain for the sake of the delight that she herself looked to have?"

"I believe," said Longarine, "she only desired to win back her husband's love, which she deemed to have gone far astray; and for the sake of such happiness there is nothing that a woman will not do." "Nevertheless,"

said Geburon, "a woman ought on no account to make her husband eat or drink anything unless, either through her own experience or that of learned folk, she be sure that it can do him no harm. Ignorance, however, must be excused, and hers was worthy of excuse; for the most blinding pa.s.sion is love, and the most blinded of persons is a woman, since she has not strength enough to conduct so weighty a matter wisely."

"Geburon," said Oisille, "you are departing from your own excellent custom so as to make yourself of like mind with your fellows; but there are women who have endured love and jealousy in patience."

"Ay," said Hircan, "and pleasantly too; for the most sensible are those who take as much amus.e.m.e.nt in laughing at their husbands' doings, as their husbands take in secretly deceiving them. If you will make it my turn, so that the Lady Oisille may close the day, I will tell you a story about a wife and her husband who are known to all of us here."

"Begin, then," said Nomerfide; and Hircan, laughing, began thus:--

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_TALE LXIX_.

_On finding her husband bolting meal in the garb of her serving-woman, whom he was awaiting in the hope that he would obtain from her what he desired, a certain lady showed such good sense that she was content to laugh and make merry at his folly_.

At the castle of Odoz (1) in Bigorre, there dwelt one Charles, equerry to the King and an Italian by birth, who had married a very virtuous and honourable woman. After bearing him many children, she was now grown old, whilst he also was not young. And he lived with her in all peacefulness and affection, for although he would at times speak with his serving-women, his excellent wife took no notice of this, but quietly dismissed them whenever she found that they were becoming too familiar in her house.

1 The scene of this tale is laid at the castle where Margaret died. Ste. Marthe in his _Oraison funebre_, p.r.o.nounced at Alencon fifteen days after the Queen's death, formally states that she expired at Odos near Tarbes. He is not likely to have been mistaken, so that Brantome's a.s.sertion that the Queen died at Audos in Beam may be accepted as incorrect (_ante_, vol. i. p. lx.x.xviii.). It is further probable that the above tale was actually written at Odos (_ante_, vol. i. p. lx.x.xvi.), but the authenticity of the incidents is very doubtful, as there is an extremely similar story in the _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_ (No, xvii.

_Le Conseiller au bluteau_), in which the hero of the adventure is a "great clerk and knight who presided over the Court of Accounts in Paris." For subsequent imitations see Malespini's _Ducento Novelle_ (No. xcvii.) and _Les Joyeuses Adventures et Nouvelles Recreations_ (No. xix.)--L. and Ed.

One day she hired a discreet and worthy girl, telling her of her husband's temper and her own, and how she was wont to turn away such girls whom she found to be wantons. This maid, wishing to continue in her mistress's service and esteem, resolved to remain a virtuous woman; and although her master often spoke to her, she on her part gave no heed to his words save that she repeated them to her mistress, and they thus both derived much diversion from his folly.

One day the maid was in a back room bolting meal, and wearing her "sarot," a kind of hood which, after the fashion of that country, not only formed a coif but covered the whole of the back and shoulders. Her master, finding her in this trim, came and urged her very pressingly, and, although she would not have done such a thing even to save her life, she pretended to consent, and asked leave to go first and see whether her mistress was engaged in some such manner that they might not be surprised together. To this he agreed; whereupon she begged him to put her hood upon his head and to continue bolting whilst she was away, in order that her mistress might still hear the noise of the bolter. And this he gladly did, in the hope of obtaining what he sought.

The maid, who was by no means inclined to melancholy, ran off to her mistress and said to her--

"Come and see your good husband, whom I have taught to bolt in order to be rid of him."

The wife made all speed to behold this new serving-woman, and when she saw her husband with the hood upon his head and the bolter in his hands, she began to laugh so exceedingly, clapping her hands the while, that she was scarce able to say to him--

"How much dost want a month, wench, for thy labour?"

The husband, on hearing this voice, realised that he had been deceived, and, throwing down both what he was holding and wearing, he ran at the girl, calling her a thousand bad names. Had his wife not set herself in front of the maid, he would have given her wage enough for her quarter; but at last all was settled to the content of the parties concerned, and thenceforward they lived together without quarrelling. (2)

2 The Italian Charles, equerry to the King, to whom the leading part is a.s.signed in Queen Margaret's tale, may have been Charles de San Severino, who figures among the equerries with a salary of 200 _livres_, in the roll of the royal household for 1522. The San Severino family, one of the most prominent of Naples, had attached itself to the French cause at the time of the expedition of Charles VIII., whom several of its members followed to France. In 1522 we find a "Monsieur de Saint-Severin" holding the office of first _maitre d'hotel_ to Francis I., and over a course of several years his son figures among the _enfants d'honneur_.--B. J. and Ed.

"What say you, ladies, of this wife? Was she not sensible to make sport of her husband's sport?"