[The Husbandman surprised by the Fall of the Winnowing Fan]

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TALE XXIX.

A parson, surprised by the sudden return of a husbandman with whose wife he was making good cheer, quickly devised a means for saving himself at the expense of the worthy man, who was never any the wiser. (1)

     1 Etienne brings this story into his Apologie pour
     Herodote, ch xv.—­B.  J.

At a village called Carrelles, (2) in the county of Maine, there dwelt a rich husbandman who in his old age had married a fair young wife.  She bore him no children, but consoled herself for this disappointment with several lovers.

2 Carrelles is at six leagues from Mayenne, in the canton of Gorron.  Margaret’s first husband, the Duke of Alencon, held various fiefs in this part of Maine, which would account for the incident related in the story coming to her knowledge.—­ M. and Ed.

When gentlemen and persons of consequence failed her, she turned as a last resource to the Church, and took for companion in her sin him who could absolve her of it—­that is to say, the parson, who often came to visit his pet ewe.  The husband, who was dull and old, had no suspicion of the truth; but, as he was a stern and sturdy man, his wife played her game as secretly as she was able, fearing that, if it came to her husband’s knowledge, he would kill her.

One day when he was abroad, his wife, thinking that he would not soon return, sent for his reverence the parson, who came to confess her; and while they were making good cheer together, her husband arrived, and this so suddenly that the priest had not the time to escape out of the house.

Looking about for a means of concealment, he mounted by the woman’s advice into a loft, and covered the trap-door through which he passed with a winnowing fan.

The husband entered the house, and his wife, fearing lest he might suspect something, regaled him exceedingly well at dinner, never sparing the liquor, of which he drank so much, that, being moreover wearied with his work in the fields, he at last fell asleep in his chair in front of the fire.

The parson, tired with waiting so long in the loft, and hearing no noise in the room beneath, leaned over the trap-door, and, stretching out his neck as far as he was able, perceived the goodman to be asleep.  However, whilst he was looking at him, he leaned by mischance so heavily upon the fan, that both fan and himself tumbled down by the side of the sleeper.  The latter awoke at the noise, but the priest was on his feet before the other had perceived him, and said—­

“There is your fan, my friend, and many thanks to you for it.”

With these words he took to flight.  The poor husbandman was in utter bewilderment.

“What is this?” he asked of his wife. “’Tis your fan, sweetheart,” she replied, “which the parson had borrowed, and has just brought back.”