"Alas, madam," said the Prioress, "is it not possible that by great care, or the diligent attention of some physician, that you might be restored to health?"
"No, no, my good sister," replied the Abbess. "You must number me among the dead--for I am hardly alive now, though I can still talk to you."
Then stepped forth the nun who had carried the water to Rouen, and said;
"Madam, there is a remedy if you would but try it." "I do not choose to," replied the Abbess. "Here is sister Joan, who has returned from Rouen, and has shown my water, and related my symptoms, to such and such a physician, who has declared that I shall die unless I suffer some man to approach me and have connection with me. By this means he hopes, and his books informed him, that I should escape death; but if I did not do as he bade me, there was no help for me. But as for me, I thank G.o.d that He has deigned to call me, though I have sinned much. I yield myself to His will, and my body is prepared for death, let it come when it may."
"What, madam!" said the infirmary nun, "would you murder yourself? It is in your power to save yourself, and you have but to put forth your hand and ask for aid, and you will find it ready! That is not right; and I even venture to tell you that you are imperilling your soul if you die in that condition."
"My dear sister," said the Abbess, "how many times have I told you that it is better for a person to die than commit a deadly sin. You know that I cannot avoid death except by committing a deadly sin. Also I feel sure that even by prolonging my life by this means, I should be dishonoured for ever, and a reproach to all. Folks would say of me, "There is the lady who ----".
"All of you,--however you may advise me--would cease to reverence and love me, for I should seem--and with good cause--unworthy to preside over and govern you."
"You must neither say nor think that," said the Treasurer. "There is nothing that we should not attempt to avoid death. Does not our good father, St. Augustine, say that it is not permissible to anyone to take his own life, nor to cut off one of his limbs? And are you not acting in direct opposition to his teaching, if you allow yourself to die when you could easily prevent it?"
"She says well!" cried all the sisters in chorus. "Madam, for G.o.d"s sake obey the physician, and be not so obstinate in your own opinion as to lose both your body and soul, and leave desolate, and deprived of your care, the convent where you are so much loved."
"My dear sisters," replied the Abbess, "I much prefer to bow my head to death than to live dishonoured. And would you not all say--"There is the woman who did so and so"."
"Do not worry yourself with what people would say: you would never be reproached by good and respectable people."
"Yes, I should be," replied the Abbess.
The nuns were greatly moved, and retired and held a meeting, and pa.s.sed a resolution, which the Prioress was charged to deliver to the Abbess, which she did in the following words.
"Madam, the nuns are greatly grieved,--for never was any convent more troubled than this is, and you are the cause. We believe that you are ill-advised in allowing yourself to die when we are sure you could avoid it. And, in order that you should comprehend our loyal and single-hearted love for you, we have decided and concluded in a general a.s.sembly, to save you and ourselves, and if you have connection secretly with some respectable man, we will do the same, in order that you may not think or imagine that in time to come you can be reproached by any of us. Is it not so, my sisters?"
"Yes," they all shouted most willingly.
The Abbess heard the speech, and was much moved by the testimony of the love the sisters bore her, and consented, though with much regret, that the doctor"s advice should be carried out. Monks, priests, and clerks were sent for, and they found plenty of work to do, and they worked so well that the Abbess was soon cured, at which the nuns were right joyous.
STORY THE TWENTY-SECOND -- THE CHILD WITH TWO FATHERS. [22]
By Caron.
_Of a gentleman who seduced a young girl, and then went away and joined the army. And before his return she made the acquaintance of another, and pretended her child was by him. When the gentleman returned from the war he claimed the child, but she begged him to leave it with her second lover, promising that the next she had she would give to him, as is hereafter recorded._
Formerly there was a gentleman living at Bruges who was so often and so long in the company of a certain pretty girl that at last he made her belly swell.
And about the same time that he was aware of this, the Duke called together his men-at-arms, and our gentleman was forced to abandon his lady-love and go with others to serve the said lord, which he willingly did. But, before leaving, he provided sponsors and a nurse against the time his child should come into the world, and lodged the mother with good people to whose care he recommended her, and left money for her.
And when he had done all this as quickly as he could, he took leave of his lady, and promised that, if G.o.d pleased, he would return quickly.
You may fancy if she wept when she found that he whom she loved better than any one in the world, was going away. She could not at first speak, so much did her tears oppress her heart, but at last she grew calmer when she saw that there was nothing else to be done.
About a month after the departure of her lover, desire burned in her heart, and she remembered the pleasures she had formerly enjoyed, and of which the unfortunate absence of her friend now deprived her. The G.o.d of Love, who is never idle, whispered to her of the virtues and riches of a certain merchant, a neighbour, who many times, both before and since the departure of her lover, had solicited her love, so that she decided that if he ever returned to the charge he should not be sent away discouraged, and that even if she met him in the street she would behave herself in such a way as would let him see that she liked him.
Now it happened that the day after she arrived at this determination, Cupid sent round the merchant early in the morning to present her with dogs and birds and other gifts, which those who seek after women are always ready to present.
He was not rebuffed, for if he was willing to attack she was not the less ready to surrender, and prepared to give him even more than he dared to ask; for she found in him such chivalry, prowess, and virtue that she quite forgot her old lover, who at that time suspected nothing.
The good merchant was much pleased with his new lady, and they so loved each other, and their wills, desires, and thoughts so agreed, that it was as though they had but a single heart between them. They could not be content until they were living together, so one night the wench packed up all her belongings and went to the merchant"s house, thus abandoning her old lover, her landlord and his wife, and a number of other good people to whose care she had been recommended.
She was not a fool, and as soon as she found herself well lodged, she told the merchant she was pregnant, at which he was very joyful, believing that he was the cause; and in about seven months the wench brought forth a fine boy, and the adoptive father was very fond both of the child and its mother.
A certain time afterwards the gentleman returned from the war, and came to Bruges, and as soon as he decently could, took his way to the house where he had left his mistress, and asked news of her from those whom he had charged to lodge her and clothe her, and aid her in her confinement.
"What!" they said. "Do you not know? Have you not had the letters which were written to you?"
"No, by my oath," said he. "What has happened?"
"Holy Mary!" they replied, "you have good reason to ask. You had not been gone more than a month when she packed up her combs and mirrors and betook herself to the house of a certain merchant, who is greatly attached to her. And, in fact, she has there been brought to bed of a fine boy. The merchant has had the child christened, and believes it to be his own."
"By St. John! that is something new," said the gentleman, "but, since she is that sort of a woman, she may go to the devil. The merchant may have her and keep her, but as for the child I am sure it is mine, and I want it."
Thereupon he went and knocked loudly at the door of the merchant"s house. By chance, the lady was at home and opened the door, and when she recognised the lover she had deserted, they were both astonished.
Nevertheless, he asked her how she came in that place, and she replied that Fortune had brought her there.
"Fortune?" said he; "Well then, fortune may keep you; but I want my child. Your new master may have the cow, but I will have the calf; so give it to me at once, for I will have it whatever may happen."
"Alas!" said the wench, "what will my man say? I shall be disgraced, for he certainly believes the child is his."
"I don"t care what he thinks," replied the other, "but he shall not have what is mine."
"Ah, my friend, I beg and request of you to leave the merchant this child; you will do him a great service and me also. And by G.o.d! you will not be tempted to have the child when once you have seen him, for he is an ugly, awkward boy, all scrofulous and mis-shapen."
"Whatever he is," replied the other, "he is mine, and I will have him."
"Don"t talk so loud, for G.o.d"s sake!" said the wench, "and be calm, I beg! And if you will only leave me this child, I promise you that I will give you the next I have."
Angry as the gentleman was, he could not help smiling at hearing these words, so he said no more and went away, and never again demanded the child, which was brought up by the merchant.
[Ill.u.s.tration: 23.jpg THE LAWYER"S WIFE WHO Pa.s.sED THE LINE.]
STORY THE TWENTY-THIRD -- THE LAWYER"S WIFE WHO Pa.s.sED THE LINE. [23]