himselfe: the onely common argument of every bad minded man, being
weake and shallow in his owne understanding. This jelous humor
increasing in him more and more, he kept her in such narrow restraint:
that many persons condemned to death, have enoyed larger libertie in
their imprisonment. For, she might not bee present at Feasts,
Weddings, nor goe to Church, or so much as to be seen at her doore:
Nay, she durst not stand in her Window, nor looke out of her house,
for any occasion whatsoever. By means whereof, life seemed most
tedious and offensive to her, and she supported it the more
impatiently, because shee knew her selfe not any way faulty.
Seeing her husband still persist in this shamefull course towards
her; she studied, how she might best comfort her selfe in this
desolate case: by devising some one meane or other (if any at all were
to bee founde) wherby he might be requited in his kind, and wear
that badge of shame whereof he was now but onely affraid. And
because she could not gain so small a permission, as to be seene at
any window, where (happily) she might have observed some one passing
by in the street, discerning a litle parcell of her love: she
remembred at length, that, in the next house to her Husbands (they
both joyning close together) there dwelt a comely yong proper
Gentleman, whose perfections carried correspondencie with her desires.
She also considered with her selfe, that if there were any partition
wall; such a chinke or cranny might easily be made therein, by which
(at one time or other) she should gaine a sight of the young
Gentleman, and finde an houre so fitting, as to conferre with him, and
bestow her lovely favour on him, if he pleased to accept it. If
successe (in this case) proved answerable to her hope, then thus she
resolved to outrun the rest of her wearisome dayes, except the frensie
of jealousie did finish her husbands loathed life before.
Walking from one roome to another, thorough every part of the house;
and no wall escaping without diligent surveying; on a day, when her
Husband was absent from home, she espyed in a corner very secret, an
indifferent cleft in the Wall; which though it yeelded no full view on
the other side, yet she plainly perceived it to be an handsome
Chamber, and grew more then halfe perswaded, that either it might be
the Chamber of Philippo (for so was the neighbouring yong Gentleman
named) or else a passage guiding thereto. A Chambermaid of hers, who
compassioned her case very much; made such observance, by her
Mistresses direction, that she found it to be Philippoes bed
Chamber, and where alwayes he used to lodge alone. By often visiting
this rift or chinke in the Wall, especially when the Gentleman was
there; and by throwing in little stones, flowers, and such like
things, which fell still in his way as he walked: so farre she
prevailed, that he stepping to the chinke, to know from whence they
came; shee called softly to him, who knowing her voyce, there they had
such private conference together, as was not any way displeasing to
either. So that the chinke being made a little larger; yet so, as it
could not be easily discerned: their mouthes might meete with kisses
together, and their hands folded each in other; but nothing else to be
performed, for continuall feare of her jelous husband.
Now the Feast of Christmasse drawing neere, the Gentlewoman said
to her Husband; that, if it stood with his liking: she would do such
duty as fitted with so solemne a time, by going earely in a morning
unto Church, there to be confessed, and receive her Saviour, as
other Christians did. How now? replied the jealous Asse, what sinnes
have you committed, that should neede confession? How Husband? quoth
she, what do you thinke me to be a Saint? Who knoweth not, I pray you,
that I am as subject to sinne, as any other Woman living in the world?
But my sins are not to be revealed to you, because you are no
Priest. These words enflamed his jealousie more violently then before,
and needes must he know what sinnes she had committed, and having
resolved what to do in this case, made her answer: That hee was
contented with her motion, alwaies provided, that she went to no other
Church, then unto their owne Chappel, betimes in a morning; and
their own Chaplaine to confesse her, or some other Priest by him
appointed, but not any other: and then she to returne home presently
againe. She being a woman of acute apprehension, presently collected
his whole intention: but seeming to take no knowledge thereof,
replyed, that she would not swerve from his direction.
When the appointed day was come, she arose very earely, and being
prepared answerable to her owne liking, to the Chappell shee went as
her Husband had appointed, where her jealous Husband (being much
earlier risen then she) attended for her comming: having so ordred the
matter with his Chaplaine, that he was cloathed in his Cowle, with a
large Hood hanging over his eyes, that she should not know him, and so
he went and sate downe in the Confessors place. Shee being entred into
the Chappell, and calling for the Priest to heare her confession, he
made her answer: that he could not intend it, but would bring her to
another holy Brother, who was at better leysure then hee. So to her
Husband he brought her, that seemed (in all respects) like the
Confessor himselfe: save onely his Hood was not so closely veyled, but
shee knew his beard, and said to her selfe. What a mad world is this
when jealousie can metamorphose an ordinary man into a Priest? But,
let me alone with him, I meane to fit him with that which he lookes
for.
So, appearing to have no knowledge at all of him, downe she fell
at his feete, and he had conveyed a few Cherry stones into his
mouth, to trouble his speech from her knowledge; for, in all things
els, he thoght himselfe to be sufficiently fitted for her. In the
course of her confession, she declared, that she was married to a most
wicked jealous Husband, and with whom she lead a very hatefull life.
Neverthelesse (quoth she) I am indifferently even with him, for I am
beloved of an Holie Fryar, that every night commeth and lyeth with me.
When the jealous Husband heard this, it stabbed him like a dagger to
the heart, and, but for his greedy covetous desire to know more; he
would faine have broke off confession, and got him gone. But,
perceiving that it was his wisest course, he questioned further with
his wife, saying: Why good Woman, doth not your husband lodge with
you? Yes Sir, quoth she. How is it possible then (replyed the Husband)
that the Friar can lodge there with you too?
She, dissembling a farre fetcht sigh, thus answered. Reverend Sir, I
know not what skilfull Art the Fryar useth, but this I am sure,
every doore in our house will flye open to him, so soone as he doth
but touch it. Moreover, he told me, that when he commeth unto my
Chamber doore, he speaketh certaine words to himselfe, which
immediately casteth my Husband into a dead sleepe, and,
understanding him to bee thus sleepily entranced: he openeth the
doore, entreth in, lieth downe by me, and this every night he
faileth not to do. The jealous Coxcomb angerly scratching his head,
and wishing his wife halfe hangd, said: Mistresse, this is very
badly done, for you should keepe your selfe from all men, but your
husband onely. That shall I never doe, answered shee, because (indeed)
I love him dearely. Why then (quoth our supposed Confessor) I cannot
give you any absolution. I am the more sory Sir, said she, I came
not hither to tell you any leasings, for if I could, yet I would
not, because it is not good to fable with such Saint-like men as you
are. You do therein (quoth hee) the better, and surely I am very
sory for you, because in this dangerous condition, it will bee the
utter losse of your soule: neverthelesse, both for your husbands
sake and your owne, I will take some paines, and use such especiall
prayers in your name, which may (perchance) greatly avayle you. And
I purpose now and then, to send you a Novice or young Clearke of mine,
whom you may safely acquaint with your minde, and signifie to me, by
him, whether they have done you good, or no: and if they prove
helpefull, then will we further proceed therein. Alas Sir, said she,
never trouble your selfe, in sending any body to our house; because,
if my Husband should know it, he is so extreamly jealous, as all the
world cannot otherwise perswade him, but that he commeth thither for
no honest intent, and so I shall live worse then now I do. Fear not
that, good woman, quoth he, but beleeve it certainly, that I will have
such a care in this case, as your Husband shall never speake thereof
to you. If you can doe so Sir, sayde she, proceed I pray you, and I am
well contented.
Confession being thus ended, and she receiving such pennance as
hee appointed, she arose on her feete, and went to heare Masse;
while our jealous Woodcocke (testily puffing and blowing) put off
his Religious habite, returning home presently to his house, beating
his braines al the way as he went, what meanes he might best devise,
for the taking of his wife and the Friar together, whereby to have
them both severely punished. His wife being come home from the
Chappell, discerned by her Husbands lookes, that he was like to
keepe but a sory Christmasse: yet he used his utmost industry, to
conceale what he had done, and which she knew as well as himself.
And he having fully resolved, to watch his own street doore the next
night ensuing in person, in expectation of the Friars comming, saide
to his Wife. I have occasion both to suppe and lodge out of my house
this night, wherefore see you the streete doore to be surely made fast
on the inside, and the doore at the middest of the staires, as also
your own Chamber doore, and then (in Gods name) get you to bed.
Whereto she answered, that all should be done as hee had appointed.
Afterward, when she saw convenient time, she went to the chink in
the Wall, and making such a signe as shee was woont to doe:
Phillippo came thither, to whom she declared all her mornings
affayres, and what directions her husband had given her. Furthermore
she saide, certaine I am, that he will not depart from the house,
but sit and watch the doore without, to take one that comes not heere.
If therefore, you can climbe over the house top, and get in at our
gutter Window, you and I may conferre more familiarly together. The
young Gentleman being no dullard, had his lesson quickly taught him;
and when night was come, Geloso (for so must wee tearme the
Cocke-braind husband) armes himselfe at all points, with a browne Bill
in his hand, and so he sits to watch his owne doore. His Wife had made
fast all the doores, especially that on the midst of the stayres,
because he should not (by any means) come to her Chamber; and so, when
the houre served, the Gentleman adventured over the house top, found
the gutter Window, and the way conducting him to her Chamber, where
I leave them to their further amorous conference.
Geloso, more than halfe mad with anger, first, because hee had
lost his supper: next, having sitten almost all the night (which was
extreamely cold and windle) his Armor much mollesting him, and yet
he could see no Friar come: when day drew neere, and hee ashamed to
watch there any longer; conveighed himselfe to some more convenient
place, where putting off his Armes, and seeming to come from the place
of his Lodging; about the ninth houre, he found his doore open, entred
in, and went up the stayres, going to dinner with his Wife. Within a
while after, according as Geloso had ordred the businesse, a youth
came thither, seeming to be the Novice sent from the Confessor, and he
being admitted to speake with her, demanded, whether shee were
troubled or mollested that night passed, as formerly she had bin,
and whether the partie came or no? The Woman, who knew well enough the
Messenger (notwithstanding all his formall disguise) made answer: That
the party expected, came not: but if hee had come, it was to no
purpose; because her minde was now otherwise altred, albeit she
changed not a jote from her amorous conclusion.
What should I now further say unto you? Geloso continued his watch
many nights afterward, as hoping to surprize the Friar at his
entrance, and his wife kept still her contented quarter, according
as opportunitie served. In the conclusion, Geloso beeing no longer
able to endire his bootlesse watching, nor some (more then ordinary)
pleasing countenance in his wife: one day demaunded of her (with a
very stearne and frowning brow) what secret sinnes shee had revealed
to the ghostly Father, upon the day of her shrift? The Woman
replyed, that she would not tell him, neyther was it a matter
reasonable, or lawfull for her to doe. Wicked Woman, answered
Geloso: I knowe them all well enough, even in despight of thee, and
every word that thou spakest unto him. But Huswife, now I must further
know, what the Fryar is, with whom you are so farre in love, and (by
meanes of his enchantments) lyeth with you every night; tell me what
and who he is, or else I meane to cut your throate.
The Woman immediately made answer, it was not true, that she was
in love with any Fryar. How? quoth Geloso, didst not thou confesse
so much to the Ghostly Father, the other day when thou wast at shrift?
No Sir, sayde she, but if I did, I am sure he would not disclose it to
you, except hee suffered you to bee there present, which is an Article
beyonde his dutie. But if it were so, then I confesse freely, that I
did say so unto him. Make an end then quickely Wife (quoth Geloso) and
tell mee who the Friar is. The Woman fell into a hearty laughter,
saying. It liketh me singularly well, when a wise man will suffer
himselfe to be ledde by a simple Woman, even as a Sheepe is to the
slaughter, and by the hornes. If once thou wast wise, that wisedome
became utterly lost, when thou felst into that divellish frensie of
jealousie, without knowing anie reason for it: for, by this
beastlike and no manly humor, thou hast eclipsed no meane part of my
