CHAPTER X. DE SAINT GELAIS. THE world, which looks upon the backslidings of mankind with a degree of disfavour exactly in the inverse proportion to their birth and station, put Villon in prison on a bread and water diet, and gave Octavien de Saint Gelais a bishopric. Encouraged by this stimulus to virtue, the prelate reformed and sinned no more, while the ragamuffin rogue, his brother bard, only reformed to sin again. St. Gelais's father, however, was no less a person than the Marquis de Montlieu and St. Aulaye, while Villon's father was a simple cordwainer; and while Villon scraped through the university as best he could, the young Octavien was carefully trained under the eyes of his cousin Guy de Fontenay, Regent of the College of St. Barbe, and Martin le Maistre, Chaplain to Louis the Eleventh. He was in course of time turned out a complete scholar, as things went then, and a young priest with an ardent zeal for everything in life except religion. He lived hard and worked hard, so hard that at twenty-four he was incapacited by illness and exhaustion from any work but the work of his order. By the good offices of king Charles the VIIIth he was able to obtain of the pope the Bishopric of Angoulème, whither he retired, and for some ten years led the life of a self-denying earnest Christian priest. Thorough in everything, he seems to have brought to his work the same zeal he had before manifested for pleasure. He died almost in the odour of sanctity, in the year 1502, being then only thirty-six years of age. "O Sainct Gelais, révérend orateur," says Crétin in an ecstasy, "De vos écrits les livres sont tous pleins, Vostre bon bruict volle par champs et plains, Chascun le sçait, de ce ne suis menteur." His two principal works are "La chasse et Départ d' Amour," which, with an allegorical introduction, contains the poems of his youth; and his "Séjour d'Honneur," written when he was only twenty-four years old, but already saddened and aged by his debaucheries. In the former he utilised the allegory of Charles of Orleans, where the poet is taken to the Court of Love. This, as I have shown, is found in Chaucer as well as in Charles. In the "Séjour d'Honneur" his design is to paint the dangers and seductions which surround a young man, and the ease with which he falls into the nets of evil. It is a dream. The poet finds himself with Sensualité who persuades him to pleasure; he makes some feeble resistance, but yields at last and goes with her as guide. She takes him pleasantly along a road which they quickly pass over, and come to a place where two ways lead in different directions. He asks where he is. "You have travelled," says his guide, "over the road of Fleurie Jeunesse. All men pass over this road, but so quickly that they do not perceive it, till they have come to the end of it." "C'est appellé ce sentier Les passans nullement ne blesse. Vont et viennent comme tu fais. Mais le retour est impossible." Further, there are not even any traces left of the footsteps of those who have gone before. He asks after the damsels. "Mais je n'en peus ouyr nouvelles ; Si en y a passé cent mille, Tant de champs comme de la ville: À la deffaicte de leur vie.... Hélas! la voye est tendre et verte, Mais il y a faulte dedans, Car on la passe en bien peu d'ans." But what are the two roads open to the traveller after coming to the end of Fleurie Jeunesse? The one on the right leads to Bonne Fin, that on the left to Déduict Mondain. It is almost needless to say that the poet takes the road on the left, still accompanied by his guide. They arrive at the River and Port of Mundane Joy (Liesse). Thither an immense crowd is hurrying and pressing, most of whom get drowned. Boccaccio, says Saint Gelais, will tell us all about these unlucky wretches. As the day is declining Sensualité takes her traveller to an inn kept by Peu d' Avis, where they pass the night. Next day they embark on a ship named Abus, and set sail on the Mer mondaine. There is singing on board and joyous stories, but the poet takes little pleasure in it all, being saddened by the sight of the many corpses floating about in the waves. Some of these he recognizes, and makes the theme of admirable reflections. Louis XI., Francis, Duke of Brittany, Alexander, Duke of Albany, are there. Sensualité interrupts his musings, and endeavours to prove to him that the world, after all, does offer real pleasures. Meantime they arrive at the Island of Vaine Espérance, which is ruled over by a lady who receives them courteously, and proclaims her power and goodness. "Je suis celle qui mes vassaulx conduys * Je fays harnois et estendarts reluyre: Je fays monter gens d'armes à cheval: Je fays chasteaulx et grosses tours construyre, Pour parvenir à honneur triumphal." Vaine Espérance takes the poet into the orchard, and makes him eat the fruit of the tree called Joyeuse attente. This has a most exhilarating effect. Sadness disappears; joy takes possession of his mind; he feels himself capable of anything. He is invited to join a dance, in which persons of all ages, conditions, and qualities take part. Henry of England, who There is King "Mist le Royaulme de France en griefs," but who was assailed by so rude a war that he died, he and his soldiers. "I knew him by his three Leopards." There is Duke John of Burgundy, who caused to be slain "Le duc Loys d'Orleans, très prochain Frère et amy du noble Roy de France." There were, in short, Kings, Dukes, Popes, Cardinals, "saulve l'honneur des Ecclésiastiques," Officers, Regents, Marshals, Provosts, Bailiffs, Presidents, all dancing together. The poet dances too, and so well that he gains. applause. He falls in with the tone of the place, and becomes daily more and more given up to pleasure. One day, falling asleep from fatigue, he is awakened by a noise like thunder, which caused him so much fright that for an instant he wished he was a "cordelier, singing hymns and verses." The thunder announced the visit of Grace Divine, who came to assure him that Vaine Espérance was deceitful, and that the only thing for him to do was to quit his |