One Hundred Merrie And Delightsome Stories Part 56

Soon after came our wench and her maid, both very tired, G.o.d knows; and the good host came forth, and received his guests as he had been enjoined, and as he had promised. He caused mademoiselle to be taken to a fair chamber, and a good fire to be made, and brought the best wine in the house, and sent for some fine fresh cherries, and came to banquet with her whilst supper was getting ready. When he saw his opportunity, he began to make his approaches to her, but in a roundabout way. To cut matters short, an agreement was made between them that he should come secretly at midnight to sleep with her.

This being arranged, he went and told the husband of the dame, who, at the hour named, went in mine host's instead, and did the best he could, and rose before daybreak and returned to his own bed.

When it was day, the wench, quite vexed and melancholy, called her maid, and they rose, and dressed as hastily as they could, and would have paid the host, but he said he would take nothing from her. And with that she left without hearing Ma.s.s, or seeing St. Michael, or breakfasting either; and without saying a single word, returned home. But you must know that her husband was there already, and asked her what good news there was at Mont St. Michel. She, feeling as annoyed as she could be, hardly deigned to reply.

"And what sort of welcome," asked her husband, "did mine host give you?

By G.o.d, he is a good fellow!"

"A good fellow!" she said. "Nothing very wonderful! I will not give him more praise than is his due."

"No, dame?" he replied. "By St. John, I should have thought that for love of me he would have given you a hearty welcome."

"I care not about his welcome," she said. "I do not go on a pilgrimage for the sake of his, or any one else's welcome. I only think of my devotion."

"Devotion, wife!" he answered. "By Our Lady, you had none! I know very well why you are so vexed and sorrowful. You did not find what you expected--that is the exact truth. Ha, ha, madam! I know the cause of your pilgrimage. You wanted to make trial of the physical gifts of our host of St. Michel, but, by St. John, I was on my guard, and always will be if I can help it. And that you may not think that I lied when I told you that he had such a big affair, by G.o.d, I said nothing but what is true. But you wanted something more than hearsay evidence, and, if I had not stopped you, you would in your 'devotion' have tried its power for yourself. You see I know all, and to remove any doubts you may have on the subject, I may tell you that I came last night at the appointed hour, and took his place--so be content with what I was able to do, and remain satisfied with what you have. This time I pardon you, but take care that it never occurs again."

The damsel, confused and astonished at being thus caught, as soon as she could speak, begged his pardon, and promised never to do anything of the sort again. And I believe that she never did.

STORY THE SIXTY-SIXTH -- THE WOMAN AT THE BATH.

By Philippe De Laon.

_Of an inn-keeper at Saint Omer who put to his son a question for which he was afterwards sorry when he heard the reply, at which his wife was much ashamed, as you will hear, later._

Some time ago I was at Saint Omer with a number of n.o.ble companions, some from the neighbourhood and Boulogne, and some from elsewhere, and after a game of tennis, we went to sup at the inn of a tavern-keeper, who is a well-to-do man and a good fellow, and who has a very pretty and buxom wife, by whom he has a fine boy, of the age of six or seven years.

We were all seated at supper, the inn-keeper, his wife, and her son, who stood near her, being with us, and some began to talk, others to sing and make good cheer, and our host did his best to make himself agreeable.

His wife had been that day to the warm baths, and her little son with her. So our host thought, to make the company laugh, to ask his son about the people who were at the baths with his mother, (*) and said;

"Come here, my son, and tell me truly which of all the women at the baths had the finest and the biggest c----?"

(*) The public baths were then much frequented, especially by the lower cla.s.ses. Men, women, and children all bathed together.

The child being questioned before his mother, whom he feared as children usually do, looked at her, and did not speak.

The father, not expecting to find him so quiet, said again;

"Tell me, my son; who had the biggest c---- Speak boldly."

"I don't know, father," replied the child, still glancing at his mother.

"By G.o.d, you lie," said his father. "Tell me! I want to know."

"I dare not," said the boy, "my mother would beat me."

"No, she will not," said the father. "You need not mind. I will see she does not hurt you."

Our hostess, the boy's mother, not thinking that her son would tell (as he did) said to him.

"Answer boldly what your father asks you."

"You will beat me," he said.

"No, I will not," she replied.

The father, now that the boy had permission to speak, again asked;

"Well, my son, on your word, did you look at the c----s of all the women who were at the baths?"

"By St. John, yes, father."

"Were there plenty of them? Speak, and don't lie."

"I never saw so many. It seemed a real warren of c----s."

"Well then; tell us now who had the finest and the biggest?"

"Truly," replied the boy, "mother had the finest and biggest--but _he_ had such a large nose."

"Such a large nose?" said the father. "Go along, go along! you are a good boy."

We all began to laugh and to drink, and to talk about the boy who chattered so well. But his mother did not know which way to look, she was so ashamed, because her son had spoken about a nose, and I expect that he was afterwards well beaten for having told tales out of school.

Our host was a good fellow, but he afterwards repented having put a question the answer to which made him blush. That is all for the present.

STORY THE SIXTY-SEVENTH -- THE WOMAN WITH THREE HUSBANDS.

By Philippe De Laon.

_Of a "fur hat" of Paris, who wished to deceive a cobbler's wife, but over-reached, himself, for he married her to a barber, and thinking that he was rid of her, would have wedded another, but she prevented him, as you will hear more plainly hereafter._

About three years ago a noteworthy adventure happened to one of the fur hats of the Parliament of Paris. (*) And that it should not be forgotten, I relate this story, not that I hold all the "fur caps" to be good and upright men; but because there was not a little, but a large measure of duplicity about this particular one, which is a strange and peculiar thing as every one knows.

(*) The councillors of Parliament wore a cap of fur, bordered with ermine.