Droll Stories from the Abbeys of Touraine | Page 5

fools if he puts leaves upon them,
seeing that these said works are not, any more than is this book,
intended for nunneries. Nevertheless, I have taken care, much to my
vexation, to weed from the manuscripts the old words, which, in spite
of their age, were still strong, and which would have shocked the ears,
astonished the eyes, reddened the cheeks and sullied the lips of
trousered maidens, and Madame Virtue with three lovers; for certain
things must be done to suit the vices of the age, and a periphrase is
much more agreeable than the word. Indeed, we are old, and find long
trifles, better than the short follies of our youth, because at that time our
taste was better. Then spare me your slanders, and read this rather at
night than in the daytime and give it not to young maidens, if there be
any, because this book is inflammable. I will now rid you of myself.
But I fear nothing from this book, since it is extracted from a high and

splendid source, from which all that has issued has had a great success,
as is amply proved by the royal orders of the Golden Fleece, of the
Holy Ghost, of the Garter, of the Bath, and by many notable things
which have been taken therefrom, under shelter of which I place
myself.
'Now make ye merry, my hearties, and gayly read with ease of body
and rest of reins, and may a cancer carry you if you disown me after
having read me.' These words are those of our good Master Rabelais,
before whom we must also stand, hat in hand, in token of reverence and
honour to him, prince of all wisdom, and king of Comedy.

THE FAIR IMPERIA
The Archbishop of Bordeaux had added to his suite when going to the
Council at Constance quite a good-looking little priest of Touraine
whose ways and manner of speech was so charming that he passed for a
son of La Soldee and the Governor. The Archbishop of Tours had
willingly given him to his confrere for his journey to that town, because
it was usual for archbishops to make each other presents, they well
knowing how sharp are the itchings of theological palms. Thus this
young priest came to the Council and was lodged in the establishment
of his prelate, a man of good morals and great science.
Philippe de Mala, as he was called, resolved to behave well and
worthily to serve his protector, but he saw in this mysterious Council
many men leading a dissolute life and yet not making less, nay--
gaining more indulgences, gold crowns and benefices than all the other
virtuous and well-behaved ones. Now during one night--dangerous to
his virtue--the devil whispered into his ear that he should live more
luxuriously, since every one sucked the breasts of our Holy Mother
Church and yet they were not drained, a miracle which proved beyond
doubt the existence of God. And the priest of Touraine did not
disappoint the devil. He promised to feast himself, to eat his bellyful of
roast meats and other German delicacies, when he could do so without
paying for them as he was poor. As he remained quite continent (in
which he followed the example of the poor old archbishop who sinned
no longer because he was unable to, and passed for a saint,) he had to
suffer from intolerable desires followed by fits of melancholy, since
there were so many sweet courtesans, well developed, but cold to the

poor people, who inhabited Constance, to enlighten the understanding
of the Fathers of the Council. He was savage that he did not know how
to make up to these gallant sirens, who snubbed cardinals, abbots,
councillors, legates, bishops, princes and margraves just as if they have
been penniless clerks. And in the evening, after prayers, he would
practice speaking to them, teaching himself the breviary of love. He
taught himself to answer all possible questions, but on the morrow if by
chance he met one of the aforesaid princesses dressed out, seated in a
litter and escorted by her proud and well-armed pages, he remained
open-mouthed, like a dog in the act of catching flies, at the sight of
sweet countenance that so much inflamed him. The secretary of a
Monseigneur, a gentleman of Perigord, having clearly explained to him
that the Fathers, procureurs, and auditors of the Rota bought by certain
presents, not relics or indulgences, but jewels and gold, the favour of
being familiar with the best of these pampered cats who lived under the
protection of the lords of the Council; the poor Touranian, all simpleton
and innocent as he was, treasured up under his mattress the money
given him by the good archbishop for