Inquire as he might, she would never acknowledge any other reason, but, nevertheless, he thenceforward refrained from kissing such shadow-faces.

“That is the story of which I was reminded when I spoke of the lady who loved her husband’s sweetheart.”

“By my faith,” said Ennasuite, “if my maid had treated me in that fashion, I should have risen and extinguished the candle upon her nose.”

“You are indeed terrible,” said Hircan, “but it had been well done if your husband and the maid had both turned upon you and beaten you soundly.  There should not be so much ado for a kiss; and ’twould have been better if his wife had said nothing about it, and had suffered him to take his pastime, which might perchance have cured his complaint.”

“Nay,” said Parlamente, “she was afraid that the end of the pastime would make him worse.”

“She was not one of those,” said Oisille, “against whom our Lord says, ’We have mourned to you and ye have not lamented, we have sung to you and ye have not danced,’ (2) for when her husband was ill, she wept, and when he was merry, she laughed.  In the same fashion every virtuous woman ought to share the good and evil, the joy and the sadness of her husband, and serve and obey him as the Church does Jesus Christ.”

2 “They are like unto children sitting in the market-place, and calling one to another, and saying, We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye have not wept.”—­St. Luke vii. 32.—­M.

“Then, ladies,” said Parlamente, “our husbands should be to us what Christ is to the Church.”

“So are we,” said Saffredent, “and, if it were possible, something more; for Christ died but once for His Church, whereas we die daily for our wives.”

“Die!” said Longarine.  “Methinks that you and the others here present are now worth more crowns than you were worth pence before you were wed.”

“And I know why,” said Saffredent; “it is because our worth is often tried.  Still our shoulders are sensible of having worn the cuirass so long.”

“If,” said Ennasuite, “you had been obliged to wear harness for a month and lie on the hard ground, you would greatly long to regain the bed of your excellent wife, and wear the cuirass of which you now complain.  But it is said that everything can be endured except ease, and that none know what rest is until they have lost it.  This foolish woman, who laughed when her husband was merry, was fond of taking her rest under any circumstances.”

“I am sure,” said Longarine, “that she loved her rest better than her husband, since she took nothing that he did to heart.”

“She did take to heart,” said Parlamente, “those things which might have been hurtful to his conscience and his health, but she would not dwell upon trifles.”

“When you speak of conscience,” said Simontault “you make me laugh.  ’Tis a thing to which I would have no woman give heed.”