XVIII
How the Huntsman Went a Wooing, and Made a Trade of It
My intent to learn artillery practice and fencing in these six months was good, and that I knew: yet ’twas not enough to protect me from idleness, which is the root of many evils, and especially ill for me because I had no one to command me. ’Tis true I sat industriously over books of all sorts, from which I learned much good: but a few came into my hands which were as good for me as grass for a sick dog. The incomparable Arcadia, from which I sought to learn eloquence, was the first book that led me aside from good stories to books of love and from true history to romances of chivalry. Such sort of books I collected wherever I could, and when I found one I ceased not till I had read it through, though I should sit day and night over it. But these taught me, instead of eloquence, to practise lechery. Yet was such desire at no time so violent and strong that one could, with Seneca, call it a divine frenzy or, as it is described in Thomas Thomai’s Forest Garden, a serious sickness. For where I took a fancy there I had what I desired easily and without great trouble: and so had I no cause to complain as other wooers and lechers have had, which are chock full of fantastic thoughts, troubles, desires, secret pangs, anger, jealousy, revenge, madness, tears, bragging, threats and numberless other follies, and for sheer impatience wish for death. For I had money and was not too careful of it, and besides I had a fine voice, which daily I exercised with all manner of instruments. Instead of showing my bodily skill in the dance, which I did never love, I did display it in fencing, engaging with my furrier: moreover, I had a fine smooth face, and did practise myself in a certain gracious amiableness, so that the women, even those that I did not greatly seek after, did of themselves run after me, and that more than I desired.
About this time came Martinmas: then with us Germans begins the eating and swilling, and that feast is full conscientiously observed till Shrovetide: so was I invited to different houses, both among the officers and burghers, to help eat the Martinmas goose. So ’twas that on such occasions I made acquaintance with the ladies. For my lute and my songs made all to look my way, and when they so looked, then was I ready to add such charming looks and actions to my new love-songs (which I did myself compose) that many a fair maid was befooled, and ere she knew it was in love with me. Yet lest I should be held for a curmudgeon I gave likewise two banquets, one for the officers and one for the chief citizens, by which means I gained me favour of both parties and an entry to their houses; for I spared no expense in my entertainment. But all this was but for the sake of the sweet maids, and though I did not at once find what I sought with each and everyone (for some there were that could deny me), yet I went often to these also, that so they might bring them that did show me more favour than becomes modest maidens into no suspicion, but might believe that I visited these last also only for the sake of conversation. And so separately I persuaded each one to believe this of the others, and to think she was the only one that enjoyed my love. Just six I had that loved me well and I them in return: yet none possessed my heart or me alone: in one ’twas but the black eyes that pleased me; in another the golden hair; in a third a winning sweetness; and in the others was also somewhat that the rest had not. But if I, besides these, also visited others, ’twas either for the cause I mentioned or because their acquaintance was new and strange to me, and in any case I refused and despised nothing, as not purposing always to remain in the same place. My page, which was an arch-rogue, had enough to do with carrying of love-letters back and forth, and knew how to keep his mouth shut and my loose ways so secret from one and the other that nought was discovered: in reward for which he had from the baggages many presents, which yet cost me most, seeing that I spent a little fortune on them, and could well say, “What is won with the drum is lost with the fife.” All the same, I kept my affairs so secret that not one man in a hundred would have taken me for a rake, save only the priest, from whom I borrowed not so many good books as formerly.