“So,” said Parlamente, “you would have your hour after the lady had had hers?  That was what was done by a gentleman of the neighbourhood of Valencia in Spain, whose story was told to me by a captain, a right worthy man.”

“I pray you, madam,” said Dagoucin, “take my place and tell it us, for I am sure that it must be a good one.”

“This story, ladies,” said Parlamente, “will teach you both to think twice when you are inclined to give a refusal and to lay aside the thought that the present will always continue; and so, knowing that it is subject to mutation, you will have a care for the time to come.”

[Illustration:  132.jpg Tailpiece]

[Illustration:  133a.  The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of Valencia who had become a Monk]

[The Lady Swooning in the Arms of the Gentleman of Valencia who had become a Monk]

[Illustration:  133.jpg Page Image]

TALE LXIV.

After a lady had for the space of five or six years made trial of the love that a certain gentleman bore her, she desired to have a still stronger proof of it, and reduced him to such despair that he turned monk, on which account she was not able to win him back again when she would fain have done so.

In the city of Valencia there lived a gentleman, who for the space of five or six years had loved a lady so perfectly that the honour and conscience of neither of them had taken any hurt; for his intent was to have her as his wife, and this was reasonable, seeing that he was handsome, rich and of good descent.  But, before he became her lover, he first inquired concerning her own mind, whereupon she declared herself willing to marry according to the counsels of her kinsfolk.  The latter, being come together for the purpose, deemed the marriage a very reasonable one provided that the maiden was herself disposed to it; but she—­whether because she thought to do better or because she wished to hide her love for him—–­made some difficulty, and the company separated, not without regret at having failed to conclude a match so well suited to both parties.

The most grieved of all was the poor gentleman, who would have borne his misfortune with patience had he thought that the fault lay with the kinsfolk and not with her; but he knew the truth, and the knowledge was to him worse than death.  So, without speaking to his sweetheart or to any other person, he withdrew to his own house, and, after setting his affairs in order, betook himself to a solitary spot, where he strove to forget his love and change it wholly to that love of our Lord which were truly a higher duty than the other.

During this time he received no tidings of his mistress or her kindred, and he therefore resolved that, since he had failed to obtain the happiest life he could hope for, he would choose the most austere and disagreeable that he could imagine.  With this sad intent, which might well have been called despair, he went and became a monk in the monastery of St. Francis.  This monastery was not far from the dwellings of divers of his kinsfolk, who, on hearing of his desperate condition, did all that in them lay to hinder his purpose; but this was so firmly rooted in his heart that it was not possible to turn him from it.