One Hundred Merrie And Delightsome Stories Part 54

Montbleru found himself about two years ago at the fair of Antwerp, in the company of Monseigneur d'Estampes, who paid all his expenses--which was much to the liking of Montbleru.

One day amongst others, by chance he met Masters Ymbert de Playne, Roland Pipe, and Jehan Le Tourneur, who were having a merry time; and as he is pleasant and obliging, as everyone knows, they desired his company, and begged him to come and lodge with them, and then they would have a merrier time than ever.

Montbleru at first excused himself, on the ground that he ought not to quit Monseigneur d'Estampes who had brought him there;

"And there is a very good reason," he said, "for he pays all my expenses."

Nevertheless, he was willing to leave Monseigneur d'Estampes if the others would pay his expenses, and they, who desired nothing better than his company, willingly and heartily agreed to this. And now hear how he paid them out.

These three worthy lords, Masters Ymbert, Roland, and Jehan Le Tourneur, stayed at Antwerp longer than they expected when they left Court, and each had brought but one shirt, and these and their handkerchiefs etc.

became dirty, which was a great inconvenience to them, for the weather was very hot, it being Pentecost. So they gave them to the servant-maid at their lodgings to wash, one Sat.u.r.day night when they went to bed, and they were to have them clean the following morning when they rose.

But Montbleru was on the watch. When the morning came, the maid, who had washed the shirts and handkerchiefs, and dried them, and folded them neatly and nicely, was called away by her mistress to go to the butcher to seek provisions for the dinner. She did as her mistress ordered, and left all these clothes in the kitchen, on a stool, expecting to find them on her return, but in this she was disappointed, for Montbleru, when he awoke and saw it was day, got out of bed, and putting on a dressing gown over his shirt, went downstairs.

He went into the kitchen, where there was not a living soul, but only the shirts, handkerchiefs, and other articles, asking to be taken.

Montbleru saw his opportunity, and took them, but was much puzzled to know where he could hide them. Once he thought of putting them amongst the big copper pots and pans which were in the kitchen; then of hiding them up his sleeve; but finally he concealed them in the hay in the stable, with a big heap of straw on the top, and that being done, he returned to bed and lay down by the side of Jehan Le Tourneur.

When the servant maid came back from the butcher's, she could not find the shirts, at which she was much vexed, and she asked everybody she met if they had seen them? They all told her they knew nothing about them, and G.o.d knows what a time she had. Then came the servants of these worthy lords, who expected the shirts and were afraid to go to their masters without them, and grew angry because the shirts could not be found, and so did the host, and the hostess, and the maid.

When it was about nine o'clock, these good lords called their servants, but none of them answered, for they were afraid to tell their masters about the loss of their shirts; but at last, however, when it was between 11 and 12 o'clock, the host came, and the servants, and told the gentlemen how their shirts had been stolen, at which news two of them--Masters Ymbert and Roland--lost patience, but Jehan Le Tourneur took it easily, and did nothing but laugh, and called Montbleru, who pretended to be asleep, but who heard and knew all, and said to him,

"Montbleru, we are all in a nice mess. They have stolen our shirts."

"Holy Mary! what do you say?" replied Montbleru, pretending to be only just awake. "That is bad news."

When they had discussed the robbery of their shirts for a long time--Montbleru well knew who was the thief--these worthy lords said;

"It is late, and we have not yet heard Ma.s.s, and it is Sunday, and we cannot very well go without a shirt. What is to be done?"

"By my oath!" said the host, "I know of nothing better than to lend you each one of my shirts, such as they are. They are not as good as yours, but they are clean, and there is nothing better to be done."

They were obliged to take their host's shirts which were too short and too small, and made of hard, rough linen, and G.o.d knows they were a pretty sight in them.

They were soon ready, thank G.o.d, but it was so late that they did not know where they could hear Ma.s.s. Then said Montbleru, in his familiar way,

"As for hearing Ma.s.s, it is too late to-day; but I know a church in this town where at least, we shall not fail to see G.o.d."

"That is better than nothing," said the worthy lords. "Come, come! let us get away, for it is very late, and to lose our shirts, and not to hear Ma.s.s to-day would be a double misfortune; and it is time we went to church if we want to hear Ma.s.s."

Montbleru took them to the princ.i.p.al church in Antwerp, where there is a G.o.d on an a.s.s (*).

(*) A picture or bas-relief, representing Christ's entry into Jerusalem, is probably meant.

When they had each said a paternoster, they said to Montbleru, "Where shall we see G.o.d?"

"I will show you," he replied. Then he showed them G.o.d mounted on an a.s.s, and added, "You will never fail to find Him here at whatever hour you come."

They began to laugh in spite of the discomfort their shirts caused them.

Then they went back to dinner, and were after that I know not how many days at Antwerp, and left without their shirts, for Montbleru had hidden them in a safe place, and afterwards sold them for five gold crowns.

Now G.o.d so willed that in the first week of Lent, Montbleru was at dinner with the three worthy gentlemen before named, and in the course of his talk he reminded them of the shirts they had lost at Antwerp, and said,

"Alas, the poor thief who robbed you will be d.a.m.ned for that, unless G.o.d and you pardon him. Do you bear him any ill-will?"

"By G.o.d!" said Master Ymbert, "my dear sir, I have thought no more about it,--I had forgotten it long since."

"At least," said Montbleru, "you pardon him, do you not?"

"By St. John!" he replied, "I would not have him d.a.m.ned for my sake."

"By my oath, that is well said," answered Montbleru. "And you Master Roland,--do you also pardon him?"

After a good deal of trouble, he agreed to pardon the thief, but as the theft rankled in his mind, he found the word hard to p.r.o.nounce.

"And will you also pardon him, Master Roland?" said Montbleru. "What will you gain by having a poor thief d.a.m.ned for a wretched shirt and handkerchief?"

"Truly I pardon him," said he. "He is quit as far as I am concerned, since there is nothing else to be done."

"By my oath, you are a good man," said Montbleru.

Then came the turn of Jehan Le Tourneur. Montbleru said to him,

"Now, Jehan, you will not be worse than the others. Everything will be pardoned to this poor stealer of shirts unless you object."

"I don't object," he replied. "I have long since pardoned him, and I will give him absolution into the bargain."

"You could not say more," rejoined Montbleru, "and by my oath I am greatly obliged to you for having pardoned the thief who stole your shirts, as far as I personally am concerned, for I am the thief who stole your shirts at Antwerp. So I profit by your free pardon, and thank you for it, as I ought to do."

When Montbleru confessed this theft, and had been forgiven by all the party as you have heard, it need not be asked if Masters Ymbert, Roland, and Jehan Le Tourneur were astonished, for they had never suspected that it was Montbleru who had played that trick upon them, and they reproached him playfully with the theft. But he, knowing his company, excused himself cleverly for having played such a joke upon them, and told them that it was his custom to take whatever he found unprotected,--especially with people like them.

They only laughed, but asked him how he had managed to effect the theft, and he told them the whole story, and said also that he had made five crowns out of his booty, after which they asked him no more.

STORY THE SIXTY-FOURTH -- THE OVER-CUNNING CURe. [64]

By Michault De Changy.

_Of a priest who would have played a joke upon a gelder named Trenche-couille, but, by the connivance of his host, was himself castrated._

There formerly lived in this country, in a place that I have a good reason for not mentioning (if any should recognise it, let him be silent as I am) a cure who was over-fond of confessing his female parishioners.

In fact, there was not one who had not had to do with him, especially the young ones--for the old he did not care.

When he had long carried on this holy life and virtuous exercise, and his fame had spread through all the country round, he was punished in the way that you will hear, by one of his parishioners, to whom, however, he had done nothing concerning his wife.