The Manuscript Found in Saragossa (18 page)

But the provost's only son, Thibaud de la Jacquière, ensign in the king's men-at-arms, was not at all like his father. A stout campaigner who was always ready to draw his sword, a lusty seducer of girls, a shaker of dice, breaker of windows, smasher of lanterns, blasphemer and swearer, who often collared citizens in the street and swapped his old coat for a new one and his hat for a better one. So it was not long before Messire Thibaud was the talk of the town in Paris, in Blois, in Fontainebleau and in the other royal residences. Now our good king of saintly memory, François I, came eventually to be displeased by the behaviour of the young officer and sent him back to Lyon to do penance in the house of his father, the good Provost de la Jacquière, who lived at that time on the corner of the Place de Bellecour at the top of the Rue St Ramond.

Young Thibaud was received back into his father's house with as much joy as if he had come bearing all the indulgences in Rome. Not only was the fatted calf killed for him, but the good provost gave a banquet for his friends that cost more gold ecus than there were guests. And that is not all. The young stalwart's health was drunk and everyone wished him wisdom and true repentance.

But these charitable wishes displeased him. He took a golden cup from the table, filled it with wine and said, ‘By the bloody death of the great devil himself, I pledge my body and my soul in this wine if ever I become a better man than I am now.'

These terrible words made the guests' hair stand on end. They crossed themselves and some of them rose from the table.

Thibaud also rose and went to take the air on the Place de Bellecour, where he ran into two of his former companions, who were rakes like himself. He embraced them, took them home with him and had them served many flasks of wine, without sparing a thought for his father and the other guests.

What Thibaud had done on the day he arrived he did the next day too, and all the days after that. The goodly provost's heart was broken and he resolved to commend himself to his patron saint, St James, and to place before the saint's image a candle weighing ten pounds which was decorated with two gold rings, each worth five marks. But as the provost tried to put the candle on the altar, he dropped it and upset a silver lamp which was burning in front of the saint. The provost had
had this candle made for another purpose, but nothing was closer to his heart than his son's conversion and he joyfully made the offering. However, when he saw the candle on the ground and the upset lamp he interpreted this as a bad omen and sadly made his way home.

On that same day Messire Thibaud again entertained his friends. They tossed back many a flask of wine, and when the night was already far advanced and it was pitch-black they went out to take the air on the Place de Bellecour. Once there, they linked arms and swaggered up and down like young men who think they will attract the attention of the girls in this way. But on this occasion it was to no avail, for neither girl nor woman passed by and they could not be seen from the windows because it was a dark night, as I have already said. So young Thibaud, in a louder voice than before and swearing his customary oath, said, ‘By the bloody death of the great devil himself I promise to give him my soul and body if the great she-devil, his daughter, were to pass by and I had my way with her. For this wine has made my blood hot.'

These words displeased Thibaud's two companions, who were not as great sinners as he. One of them said, ‘Messire, my good friend, remember that the devil is the eternal enemy of mankind and he does enough mischief without being invited and his name being invoked.'

But to this Thibaud only replied, ‘I shall do what I have said.'

As he spoke the three rakes saw a lady wearing a veil, with the charming figure of one still very young, come out of a nearby street. She was pursued by a little black servant, who tripped, fell on his face and broke his lantern. The young lady seemed very frightened and did not know what to do. Then Messire Thibaud went up to her and as politely as he could he offered her his arm to accompany her home. After protesting a little, our poor damsel in distress accepted, and Thibaud turned to his companions and whispered to them, ‘There, you see that the one I invoked hasn't kept me waiting. I bid you good-night.'

The two friends realized what he wanted and took their leave of him, laughing and wishing him joy and happiness.

Thibaud gave his arm to the fair young maiden, and the little negro whose lantern had gone out walked in front of them. The young lady seemed so distressed at first that she could hardly stand,
but her courage returned little by little and she leaned more boldly on her escort's arm. From time to time she stumbled and even held tight to his arm to save herself from falling over. Then her escort would support her and press her arm against his breast, which he did, however, with great discretion so as not to startle his quarry.

So they walked and walked for such a long time that in the end it seemed to Thibaud that they had lost their way in the streets of Lyon. But he was not in the least displeased about this for it seemed to him that he would have his will all the more easily with his pretty lady, who had lost her way. But desiring to know whom he was dealing with, he asked her to sit down on a stone seat which he caught sight of near a doorway. She agreed and he sat down next to her. He then took one of her hands in a gallant manner and wittily said to her, ‘Oh lovely wandering star, since my star brought it about that we have met tonight, be so kind as to tell me who you are and where you live.'

The young lady seemed at first very shy, but gradually grew in confidence and spoke as follows:

The gatekeeper did not have much to do, since he only had to open the castle gates once a year to admit a gentleman who only visited us to take me by the chin and speak to my duenna in Basque, which I do not understand. Fortunately, I could speak when I was locked away in the castle of Sombre, for I certainly would not have learnt to speak from my two companions in that prison. As for the blind gatekeeper, I only ever saw him when he came to pass our meals through the bars of our only window. To be fair, my deaf governess shouted moral advice in my ears, but I made so little of it that I might have been as deaf as she, for she spoke of the duties of
marriage without telling me what marriage was. She spoke in the same way about many other things which she refused to explain. Often my stammering maidservant tried to tell me some story that she assured me was very funny, but since she would never get beyond the first sentence she was forced to give up, stammering out excuses, which she managed to do no better than she could tell stories.

As I have told you, we had only one window, by which I mean only one looked out on to the courtyard of the castle. The others looked on to another courtyard which, as there were trees planted there, could pass for a garden, and to which there was only one way out, which led through my bedroom. I grew a few flowers there. It was my one pastime.

I am not telling you the whole truth, for I had another pastime as innocent as the first. There was a tall mirror in which I went to look at myself as soon as I had got up. Indeed on getting out of bed, my governess, as little dressed as I was, went to look at herself in it also and it amused me to compare my figure with hers. I would also indulge myself in this distraction before going to bed and after my governess was already asleep. Sometimes I imagined that I saw in the mirror a companion of my own age, who responded to my gestures and shared my feelings. The more I indulged in this make-believe, the more I found pleasure in it.

I have told you that a gentleman came once a year to take me by the chin and to speak Basque to my governess. One day, instead of taking me by the chin, this gentleman took me by the hand, led me to a closed carriage and shut me up inside it with my governess. Shut me up is the right expression, because the only light to enter the coach came from above. We were not let out until the third day, or rather the third night, for it was very late on in the evening.

A man opened the door and said, ‘You are now in the Place de Bellecour at the end of the Rue St Ramond. Here is the house of Provost de la Jacquière. Where do you want to be taken?'

‘Enter the first gateway after the provost's,' replied the governess.

Meanwhile Orlandine continued as follows:

When I found myself alone I threw down the beads, took hold of the scissors I had on my belt and cut a hole in the green cloth covering the window. Through it I saw another window very close to mine, and through that window I saw a brightly lit room in which three young gentlemen and three young girls were eating supper. They were more handsome and merrier than anything imaginable. They sang, they drank, they laughed, they hugged each other. They even took each other by the chin sometimes, but in a very different way from the gentleman at the castle of Sombre, who none the less came to do just that. What is more the gentlemen and the ladies took off more and more clothes, as I used to do in front of my tall mirror in the evening. And truthfully speaking this suited them just as well, not like my governess.

‘Yes,' she said, ‘that is exactly what the young gentlemen were doing. Truthfully it seemed to me that they all loved each other very much. But one of the young gentlemen claimed that he was a better
lover than the others. “No, I am. No, I am,” cried the other two. So the one who had boasted of being the best lover thought of a very curious way of proving that he was right.'

At this point Thibaud remembered what had happened at supper and nearly choked with laughter.

‘Well, pretty Orlandine,' he said. ‘What was it that the young gentleman thought of?'

‘Oh, do not laugh, sir,' replied Orlandine. ‘I assure you it was a very good idea and I watched it closely until I heard someone opening the door. Immediately I returned to my rosary and my governess came in.

‘Silently she took me by the hand and led me down to a carriage which was not closed as was the first, so that from it I could have seen the town, but it was after dark and all I saw was that we went very far and came eventually to a stretch of countryside on the very edge of town. We stopped at the last house in the suburbs. It looked like a simple hut and it was even thatched, but inside was very pretty, as you will see if the little negro knows the way, for I see he has found a light and is lighting his lantern again.'