the
jealousy of that impotent wretch her husband. Now it is absolutely
necessary, for the carrying on a certain affair, that his wife and I
should be together a whole night. What I have to ask of you, is, to
dress yourself in her night-clothes, and lie by him a whole night in her
place, that he may not miss her while she is with me." The Gascon
(though of a very lively and undertaking complexion) began to startle at
the proposal. "Nay," says the widow, "if you have not the courage to go
through what I ask of you, I must employ somebody else that will."
"Madam," says the Gascon, "I'll kill him for you if you please; but for
lying with him!--How is it possible to do it without being discovered?"
"If you do not discover yourself," says the widow, "you will lie safe
enough, for he is past all curiosity. He comes in at night while she is
asleep, and goes out in the morning before she awakes, and is in pain
for nothing, so he knows she is there." "Madam," replied the Gascon,
"how can you reward me for passing a night with this old fellow?" The
widow answered with a laugh, "Perhaps by admitting you to pass a night
with one you think more agreeable." He took the hint, put on his
night-clothes, and had not been a-bed above an hour before he heard a
knocking at the door, and the treading of one who approached the other
side of the bed, and who he did not question was the good man of the
house. I do not know, whether the story would be better by telling you
in this place, or at the end of it, that the person who went to bed to
him was our young coquette widow. The Gascon was in a terrible fright
every time she moved in the bed, or turned towards him, and did not fail
to shrink from her till he had conveyed himself to the very ridge of the
bed. I will not dwell upon the perplexity he was in the whole night,
which was augmented, when he observed that it was now broad day, and
that the husband did not yet offer to get up and go about his business.
All that the Gascon had for it, was to keep his face turned from him,
and to feign himself asleep, when, to his utter confusion, the widow at
last puts out her arm, and pulls the bell at her bed's head. In came her
friend, and two or three companions, to whom the Gascon had boasted of
her favours. The widow jumped into a wrapping-gown, and joined with the
rest in laughing at this man of intrigue.[54]

[Footnote 53: Bayle, in his life of this devotee, 1697, says that
Antoinette Bourignon w