One Hundred Merrie And Delightsome Stories Part 67

By Monseigneur Philippe Vignier.

_Of a young man of Rouen, married to a fair, young girl of the age of fifteen or thereabouts; and how the mother of the girl wished to have the marriage annulled by the Judge of Rouen, and of the sentence which the said Judge p.r.o.nounced when he had heard the parties--as you will hear more plainly in the course of the said story._

In the good town of Rouen, not long ago, a young man was married to a fair and tender virgin, aged fifteen, or thereabouts. On the day of the great feast--that is to say, the wedding--the mother of the young girl, as is customary in such cases, instructed the bride in all the mysteries of wedlock, and taught her how to behave to her husband on the first night.

The young girl, who was looking forward to the time when she could put these doctrines into practice, took great pains and trouble to remember the lesson given her by her good mother, and it seemed to her that when the time came for her to put these counsels into execution, that she would perform her duties so well that her husband would praise her, and be well pleased with her.

The wedding was performed with all honour and due solemnity, and the desired night came; and soon after the feast was ended, and the young people had withdrawn after having taken leave of the newly married couple,--the mother, cousins, neighbours, and other lady friends led the bride to the chamber where she was to spend the night with her husband, where they joyfully divested her of her raiment, and put her to bed, as was right and proper. Then they wished her good-night, and one said;

"My dear, may G.o.d give you joy and pleasure in your husband, and may you so live with him as to be for the salvation of both your souls."

Another said: "My dear, G.o.d give you such peace and happiness with your husband, that the heavens may be filled with your works."

After they all had expressed similar wishes, they left. The bride's mother, who remained the last, questioned her daughter to see whether she remembered the lesson she had been taught. And the girl, who, as the proverb goes, did not carry her tongue in her pocket, replied that she well remembered all that had been told her, and--thank G.o.d--had forgotten nothing.

"Well done," said the mother. "Now I will leave you, and recommend you to G.o.d, and pray that He may give you good luck. Farewell, my dear child."

"Farewell, my good and wise mother."

As soon as the schoolmistress had finished, the husband who was outside the door expecting something better, came in. The mother closed the door, and told him that she hoped he would be gentle with her daughter.

He promised that he would, and as soon as he had bolted the door, he--who had on nothing on but his doublet,--threw it off, jumped on the bed, drew as close as he could to his bride, and, lance in hand, prepared to give battle.

But when he approached the barrier where the skirmish was to take place, the girl laid hold of his lance, which was as straight and stiff as a cowkeeper's horn, and when she felt how hard and big it was, she was very frightened, and began to cry aloud, and said that her shield was not strong enough to receive and bear the blows of such a huge weapon.

Do all he would, the husband could not persuade her to joust with him, and this bickering lasted all night, without his being able to do anything, which much displeased our bridegroom. Nevertheless, he was patient, hoping to make up for lost time the next night, but it was the same as the first night, and so was the third, and so on up to the fifteenth, matters remaining just as I have told you.

When fifteen days had pa.s.sed since the young couple had been married, and they had still not come together, the mother came to visit her pupil, and after a thousand questions, spoke to the girl of her husband, and asked what sort of man he was, and whether he did his duty well? And the girl said that he was a nice, young man, quiet and peaceable.

"But," said the mother; "does he do what he ought to do?"

"Yes," said the girl, "but-----"

"But _what?_" said the mother. "You are keeping something back I am sure. Tell me at once, and conceal nothing; for I must know now. Is he a man capable of performing his marital duties in the way I taught you?"

The poor girl, being thus pressed, was obliged to own that he had not yet done the business, but she did not say that she was the cause of the delay, and that she had always refused the combat.

When her mother heard this sad news, G.o.d knows what a disturbance she made, swearing by all her G.o.ds that she would soon find a remedy for that, for she was well acquainted with the judge of Rouen, who was her friend, and would favour her cause.

"The marriage must be annulled," she said, "and I have no doubt that I shall be able to find out the way, and you may be sure, my child, that before two days are over you will be divorced and married to another man who will not let you rest in peace all that time. You leave the matter to me."

The good woman, half beside herself, went and related her wrong to her husband, the father of the girl, and told him that they had lost their daughter, and adducing many reasons why the marriage should be annulled.

She pleaded her cause so well that her husband took her side, and was content that the bridegroom, (who knew no reason why a complaint should be lodged against him) should be cited before the Judge. But, at any rate, he was personally summoned to appear before the Judge, at his wife's demand, to show cause why he should not leave her, and permit her to marry again, or explain the reasons why, in so many days that he had lived with her, he had not demonstrated that he was a man, and performed the duties that a husband should.

When the day came, the parties presented themselves at the proper time and place, and they were called upon to state their case. The mother of the bride began to plead her daughter's cause, and G.o.d knows the laws concerning marriage which she quoted, none of which, she maintained, had her son-in-law fulfilled; therefore she demanded that he should be divorced from her daughter at once without any more ado.

The young man was much astonished to find himself thus attacked, but lost no time in replying to the allegations of his adversary, and quietly stated his case, and related how his wife had always refused to allow him to perform his marital duties.

The mother, when she heard this reply, was more angry than ever, and would hardly believe it, and asked her daughter if that was true which her husband had said?

"Yes, truly, mother," she replied.

"Oh, wretched girl," said her mother, "why did you refuse? Did I not teach you your lesson many times?"

The poor girl could not reply, so ashamed was she.

"At any rate," said her mother, "I must know the reason why you have refused. Tell it me at once, or I shall be horrible angry."

The girl was obliged to confess that she had found the lance of the champion so big that she had not dared to present her shield, fearing that he would kill her; and so she still felt, and was not re-a.s.sured upon that point, although her mother had told her not be afraid. After this the mother addressed the Judge, and said:

"Monseigneur, you have heard the confession of my daughter, and the defence of my son-in-law. I beg of you to give judgment at once."

The judge ordered a bed to be prepared in his house, and the couple to lie on it together, and commanded the bride to boldly lay hold of the stick or instrument, and put it where it was ordered to go. When this judgment was given, the mother said;

"Thank you, my lord; you have well judged. Come along, my child, do what you should, and take care not to disobey the judge, and put the lance where it ought to be put."

"I am satisfied," said the daughter, "to put it where it ought to go, but it may rot there before I will take it out again."

So they left the Court, and went and carried out the sentence themselves, without the aid of any sergeants. By this means the young man enjoyed his joust, and was sooner sick of it than she who would not begin.

STORY THE EIGHTY-SEVENTH -- WHAT THE EYE DOES NOT SEE.

By Monsieur Le Voyer.

_Of a gentle knight who was enamoured of a young and beautiful girl, and how he caught a malady in one of his eyes, and therefore sent for a doctor, who likewise fell in love with the same girl, as you will hear; and of the words which pa.s.sed between the knight and the doctor concerning the plaster which the doctor had put on the knight's good eye._

In the pleasant and fertile land of Holland, not a hundred years ago, a n.o.ble knight lodged in a fair and good inn, where there was a young and very pretty chamber-maid, with whom he was greatly enamoured, and for love of her had arranged with the Duke of Burgundy's quartermaster that he should be lodged in this inn, in order that he might better carry out his intentions with regard to this girl.

After he had been at this inn five or six days, there happened to him a misfortune, for he had a disease in one of his eyes so that he could not keep it open, so sharp was the pain. And as he much feared to lose it, and it was an organ that required much care and attention, he sent for the Duke's surgeon, who was at that time in the the town. And you must know that the said surgeon was a good fellow, and much esteemed and spoken about throughout all the country.

As soon as the surgeon saw this eye, he declared that it could not be saved, which is what they customarily say, so that if they do cure the disease they may gain more praise and profit.

The good knight was greatly vexed at this news, and asked if there were no means of cure, and the other replied that it would be very difficult, nevertheless he might, with G.o.d's aid, cure it, if the knight would obey all his instructions.

"If you can cure me and save my eye," said the knight, "I will pay you well."

The bargain was made, and the surgeon undertook with G.o.d's aid to cure the bad eye, and arranged at what hour he would come every day to apply the dressings.

You must know that every time the surgeon came to see his patient, the pretty chambermaid accompanied him, to hold his box or basin, or help to move the poor patient, who forgot half his pain in the presence of his lady-love.