_TALE XIX_.
_Pauline, being in love with a gentleman no less than he was with her,and finding that he, because forbidden ever again to speak with her, hadentered the monastery of the Observance, gained admittance for herown part into the convent of St. Clara, where she took the veil; thusfulfilling the desire she had conceived to bring the gentleman's loveand her own to a like ending in respect of raiment, condition and mannerof life. (1)_
In the time of the Marquis of Mantua, (2) who had married the sisterof the Duke of Ferrara, there lived in the household of the Duchessa damsel named Pauline, who was greatly loved by a gentleman in theMarquis's service, and this to the astonishment of every one; for beingpoor, albeit handsome and greatly beloved by his master, he ought, intheir estimation, to have wooed some wealthy dame, but he believed thatall the world's treasure centred in Pauline, and looked to his marriagewith her to gain and possess it.
1 The incidents related in this tale appear to have taken place at Mantua and Ferrara. M. de Montaiglon, however, believes that they happened at Lyons, and that Margaret laid the scene of her story in Italy, so that the personages she refers to might not be identified. The subject of the tale is similar to that of the poem called _L'Amant rendu Cordelier a l'Observance et Amour_, which may perhaps have supplied the Queen of Navarre with the plot of her narrative.--M. and Ed.
2 This was John Francis II. of Gonzaga, who was born in 1466, and succeeded his father, Frederic I., in 1484. He took an active part in the wars of the time, commanding the Venetian troops when Charles VIII. invaded Italy, and afterwards supporting Ludovico Sforza in the defence of Milan. When Sforza abandoned the struggle against France, the Marquis of Mantua joined the French king, for whom he acted as viceroy of Naples. Ultimately, however, he espoused the cause of the Emperor Maximilian, when the latter was at war with Venice in 1509, and being surprised and defeated while camping on the island of La Scala, he fled in his shirt and hid himself in a field, where, by the treachery of a peasant who had promised him secrecy, he was found and taken prisoner. By the advice of Pope Julius II., the Venetians set him at liberty after he had undergone a year's imprisonment. In 1490 John Francis married Isabella d'Este, daughter of Hercules I. Duke of Ferrara, by whom he had several children. He died at Mantua in March 1519, his widow surviving him until 1539. Among the many dignities acquired by the Marquis in the course of his singularly chequered life was that of gonfalonier of the Holy Church, conferred upon him by Julius II.--L. and En.
The Marchioness, who desired that Pauline should through her favourmake a more wealthy marriage, discouraged her as much as she could fromwedding the gentleman, and often hindered the two lovers from talkingtogether, pointing out to them that, should the marriage take place,they would be the poorest and sorriest couple in all Italy. But suchargument as this was by no means convincing to the gentleman, and thoughPauline, on her side, dissembled her love as well as she could, she nonethe less thought about him as often as before.
With the hope that time would bring them better fortune, this love oftheirs continued for a long while, during which it chanced that a warbroke out (3) and that the gentleman was taken prisoner along with aFrenchman, whose heart was bestowed in France even as was his own inItaly.
3 This would be the expedition which Louis XII. made into Italy in 1503 in view of conquering the Kingdom of Naples, and which was frustrated by the defeats that the French army sustained at Seminara, Cerignoles, and the passage of the Garigliano.--D.
Finding themselves comrades in misfortune, they began to tell theirsecrets to one another, the Frenchman confessing that his heart was afast prisoner, though he gave not the name of its prison-house. However,as they were both in the service of the Marquis of Mantua, this Frenchgentleman knew right well that his companion loved Pauline, and in allfriendship for him advised him to lay his fancy aside. This the Italiangentleman swore was not in his power, and he declared that if theMarquis of Mantua did not requite him for his captivity and his faithfulservice by giving him his sweetheart to wife, he would presently turnfriar and serve no master but God. This, however, his companion couldnot believe, perceiving in him no token of devotion, unless it were thatwhich he bore to Pauline.
At the end of nine months the French gentleman obtained his freedom, andby his diligence compassed that of his comrade also, who thereupon usedall his efforts with the Marquis and Marchioness to bring about hismarriage with Pauline. But all was of no avail; they pointed out to himthe poverty wherein they would both be forced to live, as well as theunwillingness of the relatives on either side; and they forbade himever again to speak with the maiden, to the end that absence and lack ofopportunity might quell his passion.
Finding himself compelled to obey, the gentleman begged of theMarchioness that he might have leave to bid Pauline farewell, promisingthat he would afterwards speak to her no more, and upon his requestbeing granted, as soon as they were together he spoke to her asfollows:--
"Heaven and earth are both against us, Pauline, and hinder us not onlyfrom marriage but even from having sight and speech of one another. Andby laying on us this cruel command, our master and mistress may wellboast of having with one word broken two hearts, whose bodies, perforce,must henceforth languish; and by this they show that they have neverknown love or pity, and although I know that they desire to marry eachof us honourably and to worldly advantage,--ignorant as they are thatcontentment is the only true wealth,--yet have they so afflicted andangered me that never more can I do them loyal service. I feel sure thathad I never spoken of marriage they would not have shown themselves soscrupulous as to forbid me from speaking to you; but I would have youknow that, having loved you with a pure and honourable love, and wooedyou for what I would fain defend against all others, I would rather diethan change my purpose now to your dishonour. And since, if I continuedto see you, I could not accomplish so harsh a penance as to restrainmyself from speech, whilst, if being here I saw you not, my heart,unable to remain void, would fill with such despair as must end in woe,I have resolved, and that long since, to become a monk. I know, indeed,full well that men of all conditions may be saved, but would gladly havemore leisure for contemplating the Divine goodness, which will, I trust,forgive me the errors of my youth, and so change my heart that it maylove spiritual things as truly as hitherto it has loved temporal things.And if God grant me grace to win His grace, my sole care shall be topray to Him without ceasing for you; and I entreat you, by the true andloyal love that has been betwixt us both, that you will remember mein your prayers, and beseech Our Lord to grant me as full a measureof steadfastness when I see you no more, as he has given me of joyin beholding you. Finally, I have all my life hoped to have of you inwedlock that which honour and conscience allow, and with this hope havebeen content; but now that I have lost it and can never have youto wife, I pray you at least, in bidding me farewell, treat me as abrother, and suffer me to kiss you."
When the hapless Pauline, who had always treated him somewhatrigorously, beheld the extremity of his grief and his uprightness,which, amidst all his despair, would suffer him to prefer but thismoderate request, her sole answer was to throw her arms around his neck,weeping so bitterly that speech and strength alike failed her, andshe swooned away in his embrace. Thereupon, overcome by pity, loveand sorrow, he must needs swoon also, and one of Pauline's companions,seeing them fall one on one side and one on the other, called aloud foraid, whereupon remedies were fetched and applied, and brought them tothemselves.
Then Pauline, who had desired to conceal her love, was ashamed at havingshown such transports; yet were her pity for the unhappy gentleman ajust excuse. He, unable to utter the "Farewell for ever!" hastened awaywith heavy heart and set teeth, and, on entering his apartment, felllike a lifeless corpse upon his bed. There he passed the night in suchpiteous lamentations that his servants thought he must have lost all hisrel
ations and friends, and whatsoever he possessed on earth.
In the morning he commended himself to Our Lord, and having dividedamong his servants what little worldly goods he had, save a small sumof money which he took, he charged his people not to follow him, anddeparted all alone to the monastery of the Observance, (4) resolved totake the cloth there and never more to quit it his whole life long.
4 The monastery of the Observance here referred to would appear to be that at Ferrara, founded by Duke Hercules I., father of the Marchioness of Mantua. The name of "Observance" was given to those conventual establishments where the rules of monastic life were scrupulously observed, however rigorous they might be. The monastery of the Observance at Ferrara belonged to the Franciscan order, reformed by the Pope in 1363.--D. and L.
The Warden, who had known him in former days, at first thought he wasbeing laughed at or was dreaming, for there was none in all the landthat less resembled a Grey Friar than did this gentleman, seeing thathe was endowed with all the good and honourable qualities that onewould desire a gentleman to possess. Albeit, after hearing his words andbeholding the tears that flowed (from what cause he knew not) down hisface, the Warden compassionately took him in, and very soon afterwards,finding him persevere in his desire, granted him the cloth: whereoftidings were brought to the Marquis and Marchioness, who thought it allso strange that they could scarcely believe it.
Pauline, wishing to show herself untrammelled by any passion, strove asbest she might to conceal her sorrow, in such wise that all said she hadright soon forgotten the deep affection of her faithful lover. And sofive or six months passed by without any sign on her part, but in themeanwhile some monk had shown her a song which her lover had made ashort time after he had taken the cowl. The air was an Italian one andpretty well known; as for the words, I have put them into our own tongueas nearly as I can, and they are these:--
What word shall be Hers unto me, When I appear in convent guise Before her eyes?
Ah! sweet maiden, Lone, heart-laden, Dumb because of days that were; When the streaming Tears are gleaming 'Mid the streaming of thy hair, Ah! with hopes of earth denied thee, Holiest thoughts will heavenward guide thee To the hallowing cloister's door. What word shall be, &c.
What shall they say, Who wronged us, they Who have slain our heart's desire, Seeing true love Doth flawless prove, Thus tried as gold in fire? When they see my heart is single, Their remorseful tears shall mingle, Each and other weeping sore. What word shall be, &c.
And should they come To will us home, How vain were all endeavour! "Nay, side by side, "We here shall bide "Till soul from soul shall sever. "Though of love your hate bereaves us "Yet the veil and cowl it leaves us, "We shall wear till life be o'er." What word shall be, &c.
And should they move Our flesh to love Once more the mockers, singing Of fruits and flowers In golden hours For mated hearts upspringing; We shall say: "Our lives are given, Flower and fruit, to God in Heaven, Who shall hold them evermore." What word shall be, &c.
O victor Love! Whose might doth move My wearied footsteps hither, Here grant me days Of prayer and praise, Grant faith that ne'er shall wither; Love of each to either given, Hallowed by the grace of Heaven, God shall bless for evermore. What word shall be, &c.
Avaunt Earth's weal! Its bands are steel To souls that yearn for Heaven; Avaunt Earth's pride! Deep Hell shall hide Hearts that for fame have striven. Far be lust of earthly pleasure, Purity, our priceless treasure, Christ shall grant us of His store. What word shall be, &c.
Swift be thy feet, My own, my sweet, Thine own true lover follow; Fear not the veil, The cloister's pall Keeps far Earth's spectres hollow. Sinks the fire with fitful flashes, Soars the Phoenix from his ashes, Love yields Life for evermore. What word shall be, &c.
Love, that no power Of dreariest hour, Could change, no scorn, no rage, Now heavenly free From Earth shall be, In this, our hermitage. Winged of love that upward, onward, Ageless, boundless, bears us sunward, To the heavens our souls shall soar. What word shall be, &c.
On reading these verses through in a chapel where she was alone, Paulinebegan to weep so bitterly that all the paper was wetted with her tears.Had it not been for her fear of showing a deeper affection than wasseemly, she would certainly have withdrawn forthwith to some hermitage,and never have looked upon a living being again; but her nativediscretion moved her to dissemble for a little while longer. Andalthough she was now resolved to leave the world entirely, she feignedthe very opposite, and so altered her countenance, that in company shewas altogether unlike her real self. For five or six months did shecarry this secret purpose in her heart, making a greater show of mirththan had ever been her wont.
But one day she went with her mistress to the Observance to hear highmass, and when the priest, the deacon and the sub-deacon came out of thevestry to go to the high altar, she saw her hapless lover, who had notyet fulfilled his year of novitiate, acting as acolyte, carrying thetwo vessels covered with a silken cloth, and walking first with hiseyes upon the ground. When Pauline saw him in such raiment as did ratherincrease than diminish his comeliness, she was so exceedingly moved anddisquieted, that to hide the real reason of the colour that came intoher face, she began to cough. Thereupon her unhappy lover, who knew thissound better than that of the cloister bells, durst not turn his head;still on passing in front of her he could not prevent his eyes fromgoing the road they had so often gone before; and whilst he thuspiteously gazed on Pauline, he was seized in such wise by the fire whichhe had considered well-nigh quelled, that whilst striving to conceal itmore than was in his power, he fell at full length before her. However,for fear lest the cause of his fall should be known, he was led to saythat it was by reason of the pavement of the church being broken in thatplace.
When Pauline perceived that the change in his dress had not wrought anychange in his heart, and that so long a time had gone by since he hadbecome a monk, that every one believed her to have forgotten him, sheresolved to fulfil the desire she had conceived to bring their love toa like ending in respect of raiment, condition and mode of life, evenas these had been akin at the time when they abode together in thesame house, under the same master and mistress. More than four monthspreviously she had carried out all needful measures for taking the veil,and now, one morning she asked leave of the Marchioness to go and hearmass at the convent of Saint Clara, (5) which her mistress granted her,not knowing the reason of her request. But in passing by the monasteryof the Grey Friars, she begged the Warden to summon her lover, sayingthat he was her kinsman, and when they met in a chapel by themselves,she said to him:--
5 There does not appear to have been a church of St. Clara at Mantua, but there was one attached to a convent of that name at Ferrara.--M. and D.
"Had my honour suffered me to seek the cloister as soon as you, I shouldnot have waited until now; but having at last by my patience baffledthe slander of those who are more ready to think evil than good, I amresolved to take the same condition, raiment and life as you have taken.Nor do I inquire of what manner they are; if you fare well, I shallpartake of your welfare, and if you fare ill, I would not be exempt. Bywhatsoever path you are journeying to Paradise I too would follow; for Ifeel sure that He who alone is true and perfect, and worthy to be calledLove, has drawn us to His service by means of a virtuous and reasonableaffection, which He will by His Holy Spirit turn wholly to Himself. Letus both, I pray you, put from us the perishable body of the old Adam,and receive and put on the body of our true Spouse, who is the LordJesus Christ."
The monk-lover was so rejoiced to hear of this holy purpose, that hewept for gladness and did all that he could to strengthen her in herres
olve, telling her that since the pleasure of hearing her words wasthe only one that he might now seek, he deemed himself happy to dwell ina place where he should always be able to hear them. He further declaredthat her condition would be such that they would both be the better forit; for they would live with one love, with one heart and with one mind,guided by the goodness of God, whom he prayed to keep them in His hand,wherein none can perish. So saying, and weeping for love and gladness,he kissed her hands; but she lowered her face upon them, and then,in all Christian love, they gave one another the kiss of hallowedaffection.
And so, in this joyful mood Pauline left him, and came to the convent ofSaint Clara, where she was received and took the veil, whereof she senttidings to her mistress, the Marchioness, who was so amazed that shecould not believe it, but came on the morrow to the convent to seePauline and endeavour to turn her from her purpose. But Pauline repliedthat she, her mistress, had had the power to deprive her of a husband inthe flesh, the man whom of all men she had loved the best, and withthat she must rest content, and not seek to sever her from One who wasimmortal and invisible, for this Was neither in her power nor in that ofany creature upon earth.
The Marchioness, finding her thus steadfast in her resolve, kissed herand left her, with great sorrow.
And thenceforward Pauline and her lover lived such holy and devoutlives, observing all the rules of their order, that we cannot doubt thatHe whose law is love told them when their lives were ended, as He hadtold Mary Magdalene: "Your sins are forgiven, for ye have lovedmuch;" and doubtless He removed them in peace to that place where therecompense surpasses all the merits of man.
"You cannot deny, ladies, that in this case the man's love was thegreater of the two; nevertheless, it was so well requited that I wouldgladly have all lovers equally rewarded."
"Then," said Hircan, "there would be more manifest fools among men andwomen than ever there were."
"Do you call it folly," said Oisille, "to love virtuously in youth andthen to turn this love wholly to God?"
"If melancholy and despair be praiseworthy," answered Hircan, laughing,"I will acknowledge that Pauline and her lover are well worthy ofpraise."
"True it is," said Geburon, "that God has many ways of drawing us toHimself, and though they seem evil in the beginning, yet in the end theyare good."
"Moreover," said Parlamente, "I believe that no man can ever love Godperfectly that has not perfectly loved one of His creatures in thisworld."
"What do you mean by loving perfectly?" asked Saffredent. "Do youconsider that those frigid beings who worship their mistresses insilence and from afar are perfect lovers?"
"I call perfect lovers," replied Parlamente, "those who seek perfectionof some kind in the objects of their love, whether beauty, or goodness,or grace, ever tending to virtue, and who have such noble and uprighthearts that they would rather die than do base things, contrary andrepugnant to honour and conscience. For the soul, which was created fornothing but to return to its sovereign good, is, whilst enclosed in thebody, ever desirous of attaining to it. But since the senses, throughwhich the soul receives knowledge, are become dim and carnal through thesin of our first parent, they can show us only those visible things thatapproach towards perfection; and these the soul pursues, thinking tofind in outward beauty, in a visible grace and in the moral virtues, thesupreme, absolute beauty, grace and virtue. But when it has sought andtried these external things and has failed to find among them that whichit really loves, the soul passes on to others; wherein it is like achild, which, when very young, will be fond of dolls and other trifles,the prettiest its eyes can see, and will heap pebbles together in theidea that these form wealth; but as the child grows older he becomesfond of living dolls, and gathers together the riches that are needfulfor earthly life. And when he learns by greater experience that in allthese earthly things there is neither perfection nor happiness, heis fain to seek Him who is the Creator and Author of happiness andperfection. Albeit, if God should not give him the eye of Faith, he willbe in danger of passing from ignorance to infidel philosophy, since itis Faith alone that can teach and instil that which is right; for this,carnal and fleshly man can never comprehend." (6)
6 The whole of this mystical dissertation appears to have been inspired by some remarks in Castiglione's _Libro del Cortegiano_--which Margaret was no doubt well acquainted with, as it was translated into French in 1537 by Jacques Colin, her brother's secretary. This work, which indeed seems to have suggested several passages in the _Heptameron_, was at that time as widely read in France as in Italy and Spain.--B. J. and D.
"Do you not see," said Longarine, "that uncultivated ground which bearsplants and trees in abundance, however useless they may be, is valued bymen, because it is hoped that it will produce good fruit if this be sownin it? In like manner, if the heart of man has no feeling of love forvisible things, it will never arrive at the love of God by the sowing ofHis Word, for the soul of such a heart is barren, cold and worthless."
"That," said Saffredent, "is the reason why most of the doctors arenot spiritual. They never love anything but good wine and dirty,ill-favoured serving-women, without making trial of the love ofhonourable ladies."
"If I could speak Latin well," said Simontault, "I would quote you St.John's words: 'He that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how canhe love God whom he hath not seen?' (7) From visible things we are ledon to love those that are invisible."
"If," said Ennasuite, "there be a man as perfect as you say, _quis estille et laudabimus eum?_" (8)
7 I St. John, iv. 20.
8 We have been unable to find this anywhere in the Scriptures.--Ed.
"There are men," said Dagoucin, "whose love is so strong and true thatthey would rather die than harbour a wish contrary to the honour andconscience of their mistress, and who at the same time are unwillingthat she or others should know what is in their hearts."
"Such men," said Saffredent, "must be of the nature of the chameleon,which lives on air. (9) There is not a man in the world but would faindeclare his love and know that it is returned; and further, I believethat love's fever is never so great, but it quickly passes off when oneknows the contrary. For myself, I have seen manifest miracles of thiskind."
9 A popular fallacy. The chameleon undoubtedly feeds upon small insects.--D.
"I pray you then," said Ennasuite, "take my place and tell us about someone that was recalled from death to life by having discovered in hismistress the very opposite of his desire."
"I am," said Saffredent, "so much afraid of displeasing the ladies,whose faithful servant I have always been and shall always be, thatwithout an express command from themselves I should never have dared tospeak of their imperfections. However, in obedience to them, I will hidenothing of the truth."
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[The Lord de Riant finding the Widow with her Groom]
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The Tales Of The Heptameron, Vol. III. (of V.) Page 2