Allegories; Frame stories; Plague -- Europe -- History -- Fiction; Storytelling -- Fiction
Count Gautier ordered his administration wisely and in a regular course,
discussing all matters with the queen and her daughter-in-law; whom, albeit
they were left under his charge and jurisdiction, he nevertheless treated as
his ladies paramount. The Count was about forty years of age, and the very
mould of manly beauty; in bearing as courteous and chivalrous as ever a
gentleman might be, and withal so debonair and dainty, so feat and trim of
person that he had not his peer, among the gallants of that day. His wife
was dead, leaving him two children and no more, to wit, a boy and a girl,
still quite young. Now the King and his son being thus away at the war, and
the Count frequenting the court of the two said ladies, and consulting with
them upon affairs of state, it so befell, that the Prince's lady regarded
him with no small favour, being very sensible alike of the advantages of his
person and the nobility of his bearing; whereby she conceived for him a
passion which was all the more ardent because it was secret. And, as he was
without a wife, and she was still in the freshness of her youth, she saw not
why she should not readily be gratified; but supposing that nothing stood in
the way but her own shamefastness, she resolved to be rid of that, and
disclose her mind to him without any reserve. So one day, when she was
alone, she seized her opportunity, and sent for him, as if she were desirous
to converse with him on indifferent topics. The Count, his mind entirely
aloof from the lady's purpose, presented himself forthwith, and at her
invitation sate down by her side on a settee. They were quite alone in the
room; but the Count had twice asked her the reason why she had so honoured
him, before, overcome by passion, she broke silence, and crimson from neck
with shame, half sobbing, trembling in every limb, and at every word, she
thus spoke:--"Dearest friend and sweet my lord, sagacity such as yours
cannot but be apt to perceive how great is the frailty of men and women, and
how, for divers reasons, it varies in different persons in such a degree
that no just judge would mete out the same measure to each indifferently,
though the fault were apparently the same. Who would not acknowledge that a
poor man or woman, fain to earn daily bread by the sweat of the brow, is far
more reprehensible in yielding to the solicitations of love, than a rich
lady, whose life is lapped in ease and unrestricted luxury? Not a soul, I am
persuaded, but would so acknowledge! Wherefore I deem that the possession of
these boons of fortune should go far indeed to acquit the possessor, if she,
perchance, indulge an errant love; and, for the rest, that, if she have
chosen a wise and worthy lover, she should be entirely exonerated. And as I
think I may fairly claim the benefit of both these pleas, and of others
beside, to wit, my youth and my husband's absence, which naturally incline
me to love, 'tis meet that I now urge them in your presence in defence of my
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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