The Tales of the Heptameron, Vol. 4 (of 5)Marguerite, Queen, consort of Henry II, King of Navarre
General
The Tales of the Heptameron, Vol. 4 (of 5)
Marguerite, Queen, consort of Henry II, King of Navarre
Love stories, French -- Translations into English; Tales -- France -- Translations into English
After the gentleman had washed his hands with Bernage, water was borne
to the lady, who also washed hers and then sat down at the end of the
table without speaking to the gentleman, or he to her. The Lord de
Bernage looked very closely at her, and thought her one of the most
beautiful women he had ever seen, except that her face was very pale,
and its expression very sad.
After eating a little, she asked for drink, which was brought to her by
a servant in a most marvellous vessel, for it was a death’s head, the
eyeholes of which were closed with silver; and from this she drank two
or three times. When she had supped, the lady washed her hands, made
a reverence to the lord of the house, and retired again behind the
tapestry without speaking to any one. Bernage was exceedingly amazed at
this strange sight, and became very melancholy and thoughtful.
The gentleman, who perceived this, then said to him--
“I perceive that you are astonished at what you have seen at this table;
but for the sake of the excellence that I find in you I will explain
the matter, so that you may not think I could show such cruelty without
reasons of great weight. The lady whom you saw is my wife; I loved her
more than ever man loved woman, insomuch that in order to marry her I
forgot all fear, and brought her hither in defiance of her relations. On
her part, she showed me so many tokens of love that I would have risked
ten thousand lives in bringing her hither, to her delight and mine.
And here we lived for a while in such peace and gladness that I deemed
myself the happiest gentleman in Christendom.
“But it came to pass, upon my undertaking a journey which my honour
compelled me to make, she forgot her honour, conscience and love for me
to such a degree as to fall in love with a young gentleman whom I had
brought up in this house, and this I thought I could perceive when I
returned home again. Nevertheless, the love I bore her was so great that
I was not able to mistrust her, until at last experience opened my eyes
and made me see what I dreaded more than death, whereupon my love for
her was turned to frenzy and despair in such wise that I watched her
closely, and one day, while feigning to walk abroad, I hid myself in the
room in which she now dwells.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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