Droll　Stories　＇V。　3＇
  by　Honore　de　Balzac
  COLLECTED　FROM　THE　ABBEYS　OF　TOURAINE
  VOLUME　III：　THE　THIRD　TEN　TALES
  CONTENTS
  THE　THIRD　TEN　TALES
  PROLOGUE
  PERSEVERANCE　IN　LOVE
  CONCERNING　A　PROVOST　WHO　DID　NOT　RECOGNISE　THINGS
  ABOUT　THE　MONK　AMADOR；　WHO　WAS　A　GLORIOUS　ABBOT　OF　TURPENAY
  BERTHA　THE　PENITENT
  HOW　THE　PRETTY　MAID　OF　PORTILLON　CONVINCED　HER　JUDGE
  IN　WHICH　IT　IS　DEMONSTRATED　THAT　FORTUNE　IS　ALWAYS　FEMININE
  CONCERNING　A　POOR　MAN　WHO　WAS　CALLED　LE　VIEUX　PAR…CHEMINS
  ODD　SAYINGS　OF　THREE　PILGRIMS
  INNOCENCE
  THE　FAIR　IMPERIA　MARRIED
  THIRD　TEN　TALES
  PROLOGUE
  Certain　persons　have　interrogated　the　author　as　to　why　there　was　such
  a　demand　for　these　tales　that　no　year　passes　without　his　giving　an
  instalment　of　them；　and　why　he　has　lately　taken　to　writing　commas
  mixed　up　with　bad　syllables；　at　which　the　ladies　publicly　knit　their
  brows；　and　have　put　to　him　other　questions　of　a　like　character。
  The　author　declares　that　these　treacherous　words；　cast　like　pebbles　in
  his　path；　have　touched　him　in　the　very　depths　of　his　heart；　and　he　is
  sufficiently　cognisant　of　his　duty　not　to　fail　to　give　to　his　special
  audience　in　this　prologue　certain　reasons　other　than　the　preceding
  ones；　because　it　is　always　necessary　to　reason　with　children　until
  they　are　grown　up；　understand　things；　and　hold　their　tongues；　and
  because　he　perceives　many　mischievous　fellows　among　the　crowd　of　noisy
  people；　who　ignore　at　pleasure　the　real　object　of　these　volumes。
  In　the　first　place　know；　that　if　certain　virtuous　ladiesI　say
  virtuous　because　common　and　low　class　women　do　not　read　these　stories；
  preferring　those　that　are　never　published；　on　the　contrary；　other
  citizens'　wives　and　ladies；　of　high　respectability　and　godliness；
  although　doubtless　disgusted　with　the　subject…matter；　read　them
  piously　to　satisfy　an　evil　spirit；　and　thus　keep　themselves　virtuous。
  Do　you　understand；　my　good　reapers　of　horns？　It　is　better　to　be
  deceived　by　the　tale　of　a　book　than　cuckolded　through　the　story　of　a
  gentleman。　You　are　saved　the　damage　by　this；　poor　fools！　besides
  which；　often　your　lady　becomes　enamoured；　is　seized　with　fecund
  agitations　to　your　advantage；　raised　in　her　by　the　present　book。
  Therefore　do　these　volumes　assist　to　populate　the　land　and　maintain　it
  in　mirth；　honour　and　health。　I　say　mirth；　because　much　is　to　be
  derived　from　these　tales。　I　say　honour；　because　you　save　your　nest
  from　the　claws　of　that　youthful　demon　named　cuckoldom　in　the　language
  of　the　Celts。　I　say　health；　because　this　book　incites　that　which　was
  prescribed　by　the　Church　of　Salerno；　for　the　avoidance　of　cerebral
  plethora。　Can　you　derive　a　like　proof　in　any　other　typographically
  blackened　portfolios？　Ha！　ha！　where　are　the　books　that　make　children？
  Think！　Nowhere。　But　you　will　find　a　glut　of　children　making　books
  which　beget　nothing　but　weariness。
  But　to　continue。　Now　be　it　known　that　when　ladies；　of　a　virtuous
  nature　and　a　talkative　turn　of　mind；　converse　publicly　on　the　subject
  of　these　volumes；　a　great　number　of　them；　far　from　reprimanding　the
  author；　confess　that　they　like　him　very　much；　esteem　him　a　valiant
  man；　worthy　to　be　a　monk　in　the　Abbey　of　Theleme。　For　as　many　reasons
  as　there　are　stars　in　the　heavens；　he　does　not　drop　the　style　which　he
  has　adopted　in　these　said　tales；　but　lets　himself　be　vituperated；　and
  keeps　steadily　on　his　way；　because　noble　France　is　a　woman　who　refuses
  to　yield；　crying；　twisting　about；　and　saying；
  〃No；　no；　never！　Oh；　sir；　what　are　you　going　to　do？　I　won't　let　you；
  you'd　rumple　me。〃
  And　when　the　volume　is　done　and　finished；　all　smiles；　she　exclaims；
  〃Oh；　master；　are　there　any　more　to　come？〃
  You　may　take　it　for　granted　that　the　author　is　a　merry　fellow；　who
  troubles　himself　little　about　the　cries；　tears　and　tricks　of　the　lady
  you　call　glory；　fashion；　or　public　favour；　for　he　knows　her　to　be　a
  wanton　who　would　put　up　with　any　violence。　He　knows　that　in　France　her
  war…cry　is；　Mount　Joy！　A　fine　cry　indeed；　but　one　which　certain
  writers　have　disfigured；　and　which　signifies；　〃Joy　it　is　not　of　the
  earth；　it　is　there；　seize　it；　otherwise　good…bye。〃　The　author　has　this
  interpretation　from　Rabelais；　who　told　it　to　him。　If　you　search
  history；　has　France　ever　breathed　a　word　when　she　was　joyous　mounted；
  bravely　mounted；　passionately　mounted；　mounted　and　out　of　breath？　She
  goes　furiously　at　everything；　and　likes　this　exercise　better　than
  drinking。　Now；　do　you　not　see　that　these　volumes　are　French；　joyfully
  French；　wildly　French；　French　before；　French　behind；　French　to　the
  backbone。　Back　then；　curs！　strike　up　the　music；　silence；　bigots！
  advance　my　merry　wags；　my　little　pages；　put　your　soft　hands　into　the
  ladies'　hands　and　tickle　them　in　the　middleof　the　hand　of　course。
  Ha！　ha！　these　are　high　sounding　and　peripatetic　reasons；　or　the　author
  knows　nothing　of　sound　and　the　philosophy　of　Aristotle。　He　has　on　his
  side　the　crown　of　France　and　the　oriflamme　of　the　king　and　Monsieur
  St。　Denis；　who；　having　lost　his　head；　said　〃Mount…my…Joy！〃　Do　you　mean
  to　say；　you　quadrupeds；　that　the　word　is　wrong？　No。　It　was　certainly
  heard　by　a　great　many　people　at　the　time；　but　in　these　days　of　deep
  wretchedness　you　believe　nothing　concerning　the　good　old　saints。
  The　author　has　not　finished　yet。　Know　all　ye　who　read　these　tales　with
  eye　and　hand；　feel　them　in　the　head　alone；　and　love　them　for　the　joy
  they　bring　you；　and　which　goes　to　your　heart；　know　that　the　author
  having　in　an　evil　hour　let　his　ideas；　/id　est/；　his　inheritance；　go
  astray；　and　being　unable　to　get　them　together　again；　found　himself　in
  a　state　of　mental　nudity。　Then　he　cried　like　the　woodcutter　in　the
  prologue　of　the　book　of　his　dear　master　Rabelais；　in　order　to　make
  himself　heard　by　the　gentleman　on　high；　Lord　Paramount　of　all　things；
  and　obtain　from　Him　fresh　ideas。　This　said　Most　High；　still　busy　with
  the　congress　of　the　time；　threw　to　him　through　Mercury　an　inkstand
  with　two　cups；　on　which　was　engraved；　after　the　manner　of　a　motto；
  these　three　letters；　/Ave/。　Then　the　poor　fellow；　perceiving　no　other
  help；　took　great　care　to　turn　over　this　said　inkstand　to　find　out　the
  hidden　meaning　of　it；　thinking　over　the　mysterious　words　and　trying　to
  find　a　key　to　them。　First；　he　saw　that　God　was　polite；　like　the　great
  Lord　as　He　is；　because　the　world　is　His；　and　He　holds　the　title　of　it
  from　no　one。　But　since；　in　thinking　over　the　days　of　his　youth；　he
  remembered　no　great　service　rendered　to　God；　the　author　was　in　doubt
  concerning　this　hollow　civility；　and　pondered　long　without　finding　out
  the　real　substance　of　the　celestial　utensil。　By　reason　of　turning　it
  and　twisting　it　about；　studying　it；　looking　at　it；　feeling　it；
  emptying　it；　knocking　it　in　an　interrogatory　manner；　smacking　it　down；
  standing　it　up　straight；　standing　it　on　one　side；　and　turning　it
  upside　down；　he　read　backwards　/Eva/。　Who　is　/Eva/；　if　not　all　women
  in　one？　Therefore　by　the　Voice　Divine　was　it　said　to　the　author：
  Think　of　women；　woman　will　heal　thy　wound；　stop　the　waste…hole　in　thy
  bag　of　tricks。　Woman　is　thy　wealth；　have　but　one　woman；　dress；
  undress；　and　fondle　that　women；　make　use　of　the　womanwoman　is
  everythingwoman　has　an　inkstand　of　her　own；　dip　thy　pen　in　that
  bottomless　inkpot。　Women　like　love；　make　love　to　her　with　the　pen
  only；　tickle　her　phantasies；　and　sketch　merrily　for　her　a　thousand
  pictures　of　love　in　a　thousand　pretty　ways。　Woman　is　generous；　and　all
  for　one；　or　one　for　all；　must　pay　the　painter；　and　furnish　the　hairs
  of　the　brush。　Now；　muse　upon　that　which　is　written　here。　/Ave/；　Hail；
  /Eva/；　woman；　or　/Eva/；　woman；　/Ave/；　Hail。　Yes；　she　makes　and
  unmakes。　Heigh；　then；　for　the　inkstand！　What　does　woman　like　best？
  What　does　she　desire？　All　the　special　things　of　love；　and　woman　is
  right。　To　have　children；　to　produce　an　imitation；　of　nature；　which　is
  always　in　labour。　Come　to　me；　then；　woman！come　to　me；　Eva！
  With　this　the　author　began　to　dip　into　that　fertile　inkpot；　where
  there　was　a　brain…fluid；　concocted　by　virtues　from　on　high　in　a
  talismanic　fashion。　From　one　cup　there　came　serious　things；　which
  wrote　themselves　in　brown　ink；　and　from　the　other　trifling　things；
  which　merely　gave　a　roseate　hue　to　the　pages　of　the　manuscript。　The
  poor　author　has　often；　from　carelessness；　mixed　the　inks；　now　here；
  now　there；　but　as　soon　as　the　heavy　sentences；　difficult　to　smooth；
  polish；　and　brighten　up；　of　some　work　suitable　to　the　taste　of　the　day
  are　finished；　the　author；　eager　to　amuse　himself；　in　spite　of　the
  small　amount　of　merry　ink　remaining　in　the　left　cup；　steals　and　bears
  eagerly　therefrom　a　few　penfuls　with　great　delight。　These　said　penfuls
  are；　indeed；　these　same　Droll　Tales；　the　authority　on　which　is　above
  suspicion；　because　it　flows　from　a　divine　source；　as　is　shown　in　this
  the　author's　naive　confession。
  Certain　evil…disposed　people