The seneschal wished to go and slay the monk, but he thought that was a crime which would cost him too much, and he resolved cunningly to arrange his vengeance with the help of the archbishop; and before the housetops of Roche-Corbon came in sight he had ordered the Sire de Montsoreau to seek a little retirement in his own country, which the young Gauttier did, knowing the ways of the lord.  The seneschal put in the place of the said Gauttier the son of the Sire de Jallanges, whose fief was held from Roche-Corbon.  He was a young boy named Rene, approaching fourteen years, and he made him a page, awaiting the time when he should be old enough to be an equerry, and gave the command of his men to an old cripple, with whom he had knocked about a great deal in Palestine and other places.  Thus the good man believed he would avoid the horned trappings of cuckoldom, and would still be able to girth, bridle, and curb the factious innocence of his wife, which struggled like a mule held by a rope.

THAT WHICH IS ONLY A VENIAL SIN.

The Sunday following the arrival of Rene at the manor of Roche-Corbon, Blanche went out hunting without her goodman, and when she was in the forest near Les Carneaux, saw a monk who appeared to be pushing a girl about more than was necessary, and spurred on her horse, saying to her people, “Ho there!  Don’t let him kill her.”  But when the seneschal’s lady arrived close to them, she turned her horse’s head quickly and the sight she beheld prevented her from hunting.  She came back pensive, and then the lantern of her intelligence opened, and received a bright light, which made a thousand things clear, such as church and other pictures, fables, and lays of the troubadours, or the domestic arrangements of birds; suddenly she discovered the sweet mystery of love written in all languages, even in that of the Carps’.  Is it not silly thus to seal this science from maidens?  Soon Blanche went to bed, and soon said she to the seneschal—­

“Bruyn, you have deceived me, you ought to behave as the monk of the Carneaux behaved to the girl.”

Old Bruyn suspected the adventure, and saw well that his evil hour was at hand.  He regarded Blanche with too much fire in his eyes for the same ardour to be lower down, and answered her softly—­

“Alas! sweetheart, in taking you for my wife I had more love than strength, and I have taken advantage of your clemency and virtue.  The great sorrow of my life is to feel all my capability in my heart only.  This sorrow hastens my death little by little, so that you will soon be free.  Wait for my departure from this world.  That is the sole request that he makes of you, he who is your master, and who could command you, but who wishes only to be your prime minister and slave.  Do not betray the honour of my white hairs!  Under these circumstances there have been lords who have slain their wives.

“Alas! you will not kill me?” said she.