The old lord, believing that he was a girl, thought him very modest and timid, because the lad, doubting the language of his eyes, kept them always cast down; and when Bertha kissed him on the mouth, he trembled lest his petticoat might be indiscreet, and would walk away to the window, so fearful was he of being recognised as a man by Bastarnay, and killed before he had made love to the lady.
Therefore he was as joyful as any lover would have been in his place, when the portcullis was lowered, and the old lord galloped away across the country. He had been in such suspense that he made a vow to build a pillar at his own expense in the cathedral at Tours, because he had escaped the danger of his mad scheme. He gave, indeed, fifty gold marks to pay God for his delight. But by chance he had to pay for it over again to the devil, as it appears from the following facts if the tale pleases you well enough to induce you to follow the narrative, which will be succinct, as all good speeches should be.
II
HOW BERTHA BEHAVED, KNOWING THE BUSINESS OF LOVE
This bachelor was the young Sire Jehan de Sacchez, cousin of the Sieur de Montmorency, to whom, by the death of the said Jehan, the fiefs of Sacchez and other places would return, according to the deed of tenure. He was twenty years of age and glowed like a burning coal; therefore you may be sure that he had a hard job to get through the first day. While old Imbert was galloping across the fields, the two cousins perched themselves under the lantern of the portcullis, in order to keep him the longer in view, and waved him signals of farewells. When the clouds of dust raised by the heels of the horses were no longer visible upon the horizon, they came down and went into the great room of the castle.
"What shall we do, dear cousin?" said Bertha to the false Sylvia. "Do you like music? We will play together. Let us sing the lay of some sweet ancient bard. Eh? What do you say? Come to my organ; come along.
As you love me, sing!"
Then she took Jehan by the hand and led him to the keyboard of the organ, at which the young fellow seated himself prettily, after the manner of women. "Ah! sweet coz," cried Bertha, as soon as the first notes tried, the lad turned his head towards her, in order that they might sing together. "Ah! sweet coz you have a wonderful glance in your eye; you move I know not what in my heart."
"Ah! cousin," replied the false Sylvia, "that it is which has been my ruin. A sweet milord of the land across the sea told me so often that I had fine eyes, and kissed them so well, that I yielded, so much pleasure did I feel in letting them be kissed."
"Cousin, does love then, commence in the eyes?"
"In them is the forge of Cupid's bolts, my dear Bertha," said the lover, casting fire and flame at her.
"Let us go on with our singing."
They then sang, by Jehan's desire, a lay of Christine de Pisan, every word of which breathed love.
"Ah! cousin, what a deep and powerful voice you have. It seems to pierce me."
"Where?" said the impudent Sylvia.
"There," replied Bertha, touching her little diaphragm, where the sounds of love are understood better than by the ears, but the diaphragm lies nearer the heart, and that which is undoubtedly the first brain, the second heart, and the third ear of the ladies. I say this, with all respect and with all honour, for physical reasons and for no others.
"Let us leave off singing," said Bertha; "it has too great an effect upon me. Come to the window; we can do needlework until the evening."
"Ah! dear cousin of my soul, I don't know how to hold the needle in my fingers, having been accustomed, to my perdition to do something else with them."
"Eh! what did you do then all day long?"
"Ah! I yielded to the current of love, which makes days seem Instants, months seem days, and years months; and if it could last, would gulp down eternity like a strawberry, seeing that it is all youth and fragrance, sweetness and endless joy."
Then the youth dropped his beautiful eyelids over his eyes, and remained as melancholy as a poor lady who has been abandoned by her lover, who weeps for him, wishes to kiss him, and would pardon his perfidy, if he would but seek once again the sweet path to his once-loved fold.
"Cousin, does love blossom in the married state?"
"Oh no," said Sylvia; "because in the married state everything is duty, but in love everything is done in perfect ******* of heart. This difference communicates an indescribable soft balm to those caresses which are the flowers of love."
"Cousin, let us change the conversation; it affects me more than did the music."
She called hastily to a servant to bring her boy to her, who came, and when Sylvia saw him, she exclaimed--"Ah! the little dear, he is as beautiful as love."
Then she kissed him heartily upon the forehead.
"Come, my little one," said the mother, as the child clambered into her lap. "Thou art thy mother's blessing, her unclouded joy, the delight of her every hour, her crown, her jewel, her own pure pearl, her spotless soul, her treasure, her morning and evening star, her only flame, and her heart's darling. Give me thy hands, that I may eat them; give me thine ears, that I may bite them; give me thy head, that I may kiss thy curls. Be happy sweet flower of my body, that I may be happy too."
"Ah! cousin," said Sylvia, "you are speaking the language of love to him."
"Love is a child then?"
"Yes, cousin; therefore the heathen always portrayed him as a little boy."
And with many other remarks fertile in the imagery of love, the two pretty cousins amused themselves until supper time, playing with the child.
"Would you like to have another?" whispered Jehan, at an opportune moment, into his cousin's ear, which he touched with his warm lips.
