THE FOURTH NOVELL

 

       WHEREIN MAY BEE NOTED, THAT SUCH MEN AS WILL REPROVE THOSE

      ERROURS IN OTHERS, WHICH REMAINE IN THEMSELVES, COMMONLY ARE

                  THE AUTHORS OF THEIR OWNE REPREHENSION

 

  A Monke having committed an offence, deserving to be very greevously

punished, freed himselfe from the paine to be inflicted on him, by

wittily reprehending his Abbot, with the very same fault.

 

  So ceased Madame Philotnena, after the conclusion of her Tale:

when Dioneus sitting next unto her, (without tarrying for any other

command from the Queene, knowing by the order formerly begun, that hee

was to follow in the same course) spake in this manner.

  Gracious Ladies, if I faile not in understanding your generall

intention, we are purposely assembled heere to tell Tales; and

especially such as may please our selves. In which respect, because

nothing shold be done disorderly, I hold it lawfull for every one

(as our Queene decreed before her Dignity) to relate such a

Noveltie, as in their owne judgement may cause most contentment.

Wherefore having heard that by the good admonitions of Jehannot de

Chevigny, Abraham the Jew was advised to the salvation of his soule,

and Melchisedech (by his witty understanding) defended his riches from

the traines of Saladine: I now purpose to tell you in a few plaine

words, without feare of receiving any reprehension, how cunningly a

Monke compassed his deliverance, from a punishment intended towards

him.

  There was in the Country of Lunigiana (which is not far distant from

our owne) a Monastery, which sometime was better furnished with

holinesse and Religion, then now adayes they are: wherein lived (among

divers other) a yong Novice Monke, whose hot and lusty disposition

(being in the vigour of his yeeres) was such, as neither Fasts nor

prayers had any great power over him. It chanced on a fasting day

about high noon, when all the other Monkes were asleep in their

Dormitaries or Dorters, this frolicke Friar was walking alone in their

Church, which stoode in a very solitarie place, where ruminating on

many matters by himselfe, hee espyed a prettie handsome Wench (some

Husbandmans daughter in the Countrey, that had beene gathering

rootes and hearbes in the field) upon her knees before in Altar;

whom he had no sooner seene, but immediately hee felt effeminate

temptations, and such as ill fitted with his profession.

  Lascivious desire, and no religious devotion, made him draw neere

her, and whether under shrift (the onely cloake to compasse carnal

affections) or some other as close conference to as pernitious and

vile a purpose, I know not: but so farre he prevailed upon her

frailety, and such a bargaine passed betweene them, that from the

Church, he wonne her to his Chamber, before any person could

perceive it. Now, while this yong lusty Monke (transported with

overfond affection) was more carelesse of his dalliance, then he

should have bene: the Lord Abbot being newly arisen from sleepe, and

walking softly about the Cloyster, came to the Monkes Dorter doore,

where hearing what noyse was made betweene them, and a feminine

voyce more strange then hee was wont to heare; he layed his eare close

to the Chamber doore, and plainly perceived, that a woman was

within. Wherewith being much moved, he intended sodainly to make him

open the doore; but (upon better consideration) hee conceyved it farre

more fitting for him, to returne backe to his owne Chamber, and

tarry till the Monke should come forth.

  The Monke, though his delight with the Damosell was extraordinary,

yet feare and suspition followed upon it; for, in the very height of

all his wantonnesse, he heard a soft treading about the doore. And

prying thorow a small crevice in the same dore, perceived apparantly,

that the Abbot himselfe stood listening there, and could not be

ignorant but that the Maide was with him in the Chamber. As after

pleasure ensueth paine, for the veniall Monke knew well enough (though

wanton heate would not let him heede it before) that most greevous

punishment must bee inflicted on him, which made him sad beyond all

measure: Neverthelesse, without disclosing his dismay to the yong

Maiden, he began to consider with himselfe on many meanes, whereby

to find out one that might best fit his turne. And suddenly

conceited an apt stratagem, which sorted to such effect as he would

have it: whereupon, seeming satisfied for that season, he tolde the

Damosell, that (being carefull of her credit) as hee had brought her

in unseene of any, so he would free her from thence againe, desiring

her to tarrie there (without making any noyse at all) untill such time

as he returned to her.

  Going forth of the chamber, and locking it fast with the key, he

went directly to the Lord Abbots lodging, and delivering him the saide

key (as every Monke used to doe the like, when he went abroade out

of the Convent) setting a good countenance on the matter, boldly

saide; My Lord, I have not yet brought in all my part of the wood,

which lieth ready cut downe in the Forrest; and having now

convenient time to doe it, if you please to give me leave, I will

goe and fetch it. The Abbot perswading himselfe, that he had not beene

discovered by the Monke, and to be resolved more assuredly in the

offence committed; being not a little jocund of so happy an

accident, gladly tooke the key, and gave him leave to fetch the wood.

  No sooner was he gone, but the Abbot beganne to consider with

himselfe, what he were best to doe in this case, either (in the

presence of all the other Monkes) to open the Chamber doore, that so

the offence being knowne to them all, they might have no occasion of

murmuring against him, when he proceeded in the Monkes punishment;

or rather should first understand of the Damosell her selfe, how,

and in what manner shee was brought thither. Furthermore, he

considered, that shee might be a woman of respect, or some such mans

daughter, as would not take it well, to have her disgraced before

all the Monkes. Wherefore hee concluded, first to see (himselfe)

what shee was, and then (afterward) to resolve upon the rest. So going

very softly to the Chamber, and entring in, locked the doore fast with

the key, when the poore Damosell thinking it had beene the gallant

young Monke; but finding it to be the Lord Abbot, shee fell on her

knees weeping, as fearing now to receive publike shame, by being

betrayed in this unkinde manner.

  My Lord Abbot looking demurely on the Maide, and perceiving her to

be faire, feate, and lovely; felt immediately (although he was olde)

no lesse spurring on to fleshly desires, then the young Monke before

had done; whereupon he beganne to conferre thus privately with

himselfe. Why should I not take pleasure, when I may freely have it?

Cares and molestations I endure every day, but sildome find such

delights prepared for me. This is a delicate sweete young Damosell,

and here is no eye that can discover me. If I can enduce her to doe as

I would have her, I know no reason why I should gaine-say it. No man

can know it, or any tongue blaze it abroade; and sinne so concealed,

is halfe pardoned. Such a faire fortune as this is, perhaps

hereafter will never befall me; and therefore I hold it wisedome, to

take such a benefit when a man may enjoy it.

  Upon this immodest meditation, and his purpose quite altered which

he came for; he went neerer to her, and very kindly began to comfort

her, desiring her to forbeare weeping: and (by further insinuating

speeches) acquainted her with his amorous intention. The Maide, who

was made neither of yron nor diamond, and seeking to prevent one shame

by another, was easily wonne to the Abbots will, which caused him to

embrace and kisse her often.

  Our lusty young novice Monke, whom the Abbot imagined to bee gone

for wood, had hid himselfe aloft upon the roofe of the Dorter,

where, when he saw the Abbot enter alone into the Chamber, he lost a

great part of his former feare, promising to himselfe a kinde of

perswasion, that somewhat would ensue to his better comfort; but

when he beheld him lockt into the Chamber, then his hope grew to

undoubted certainty. A little chincke or crevice favoured him, whereat

he could both heare and see, whatsoever was done or spoken by them:

so, when the Abbot thought hee had staide long enough with the

Damosell, leaving her still there, and locking the doore fast

againe, hee returned thence to his owne Chamber.

  Within some short while after, the Abbot knowing the Monke to be

in the Convent, and supposing him to be lately returned with the wood,

determined to reprove him sharpely, and to have him closely

imprisoned, that the Damosell might remaine solie to himselfe. And

causing him to be called presently before him, with a very stearne and

angry countenance, giving him many harsh and bitter speeches,

commanded, that he should be clapt in prison.

  The Monke very readily answered, saying. My good Lord, I have not

yet beene so long in the Order of Saint Benedict, as to learne all the

particularities thereto belonging. And beside Sir, you never shewed

mee or any of my Brethren, in what manner we young Monkes ought to use

women, as you have otherwise done for our custome of prayer and

fasting. But seeing you have so lately therein instructed mee, and

by your owne example how to doe it: I heere solemnely promise you,

if you please to pardon me but this one error, I will never faile

therein againe, but dayly follow what I have seene you doe.

  The Abbot, being a man of quicke apprehension, perceived instantly

by this answere; that the Monke not onely knew as much as he did,

but also had seene (what was intended) that hee should not. Wherefore,

finding himselfe to be as faulty as the Monke, and that hee could

not shame him, but worthily had deserved as much himselfe; pardoning

him, and imposing silence on eithers offence: they convayed the

poore abused Damosell forth of their doores, she purposing (never

after) to transgresse in the like manner.