TAKING THE VEIL

The recurring event in the tenth tale of The Heptameron of Marguerite de Navarre is deception. In order for Amador, the hero of the tale, to pursue the object of his desire, Lady Florida, he engages in a series of ruses. Decorous behavior among the nobility in 16th Century Spain was such that emotions and intentions must be hidden at all cost. There was little guilt felt about the fulfillment of carnal desires (needs and ambitions). The situation most to be avoided was any public revelations about one's devious schemes and illicit involvements that could bring shame to one's name and reputation. The more than fifteen instances in this tale of hiding feelings as well as manipulative schemes requiring blattant lies indicate an obsessive anxiety about being discovered and dishonored, or worse. There is a general tendency among the characters in this tale to disbelieve what they are told. The climate of suspicion can be seen as directly responsible for a number of instances of misinterpretation of behavior.

This psychological narrative gives the reader partial access to Amador's feelings that are hidden from the other characters. Full disclosure of his true intentions is delayed until the end of the tale. Whereas we are told when he looks at Florida: "He was transported with joy, and was only able to utter a few words of greatful thanks" (p. 125), it is his behavior which indicates the extent of his excitement that has rendered him speechless, even though Florida fails to see that. His marriage to Avanturada who is Florida's close friend is both a foil and a means of being brought into Florida's proximaty and eventually her trust. Winning her mother's confidence is one more step toward achieving his goal.

Exactly what he is after is not yet revealed to us (how about to himself? Does he know?). The suggestion that what he really wants is a sexual conquest (this may be too strong) is made when he pretends to be making a confession of love to Florida when he begins by asking the question: "Tell me, is it better to speak or die?" (p. 129) In a culture in which feelings must be hidden, there is all the more irony in a feigned confession of love which is actually a manipulative ruse. The suggestion of what he really wants is made when he says: "But you must believe me, my Lady, when I tell you that I am not one of those men who would exploit this advantage. I desire no favour, nor pleasure from you, except what is in accordance with the dictates of virtue." (p. 130-131) By denying he intends to "exploit this advantage," he establishes deviously the possibility of such a thing. He plants this possibility in her mind. He does not say how he might exploit this advantage. Keeping this possibility vague gives him room to retreat. If she had something sexual in mind, this would be her opportunity to reveal her desire. If she were offended by the suggestion, he could deny he meant that.

Lady Florida is understandably suspicious, perceiving something extreme in his behavior that he should have to make "such a long, high-flown speech...." (p. 131) when she has already made him aware that he has what he now seems to be asking for, that is, her trust and favor. She makes herself vulnerable to his manipulations by being too candid about her doubts about his intentions. His speech which was in the guise of a confession is actually a set-up for a further manipulation. When he says: "The reason why I have made so bold as to say all this to you, is that Paulina has become very suspicious." (p. 132), he seems to be asking her to help him hide his feelings for her, but this is just a subterfuge to characterize her behavior toward him being that of someone who is in love with him: "...when you come to talk to me alone in your affectionate way...." She may not have been fully conscious of the nature of her own feelings or the meaning of her behavior toward him. He has found a way of inadvertently suggesting this possibility and thereby releases a new awareness in her. For the first time in the tale, we are given access to her feelings. "At these words Florida was filled with delight beyond bounds. Deep within her heart she began to feel stirrings that she had never felt before." (p. 133) He has also planted the seed of jealousy in her mind. She is so willing to comply with his request that his ruse backfires on him, causing her to avoid contact with him as well as making her self-conscious. Until this point her affection for him has been innocent and spontaneous.

It is now his turn to misinterpret her behavior: "Amador...concluded that she was keeping away from him, not just as a result of his advice, but because she was displeased with him." (p. 133) It is Florida who now tries to hide her jealousy of Paulina, but Amador is so angered by her lie that she is happy he is enjoying himself with Paulina (p. 133) that he finally admits he has no interest in Paulina. Next, we find him using the language that describes so much of their behavior when he speaks of the necessity of covering up his anger and hiding his joy. (p. 134) Only by being away from her can his feelings be kept under control. Only when he leaves, can she allow her feelings to surface: "Love, having been thwarted, was aroused now...." Again the reader is given access to her feelings, feelings to which she herself has been denied access. Soon after, there is a brief moment of reconciliation before Amador is off to war again.

Taken prisoner in a great battle between the Spanish forces and the Moors, Amador does not return to Barcelona for two years. In the meantime, Florida has been married off to the Duke of Cardona. Her marriage is described as "a life that seemed to her little better than death." (p. 138) When she sees Amador again, she lets him know that she married against her will and that he is the one she loves. Then we are told that "she was ready not merely to accept Amador as a devoted servent, but to admit him as a sure and perfect lover." (p. 139) Given what we know from the events that follow, this disclosure of the narrator could be deemed as much a lie as the lies her characters tell each other. It is simply to keep us interested in the rest of the story. Just as we are told that "Florida was almost won" Amador is again called away by the king. This news causes Amador's wife to faint, fall down the stairs and die. Both Florida and Amador are thrown into deep despair, but his dejection is so great, mainly on account of being called away from Florida, that he is willing to risk all and make his true wishes known. But he will not say what he wants. Twice we are told: "He said not a word." (p. 140) "Amador still said nothing." (p. 141) His actions, however, make it quite clear to her what he wants, and "Florida, terrified, thought he must be out of his mind." Finally, on pages 141-142, he does speak the truth of his desire. Her appeal to honor and virtue shames him into one more attempt at deception when he claims he was only testing her: "Your honor is vindicated...." (p. 143) She doesn't believe him, though she cannot stop loving him: "She resolved, in short, to go on loving Amador, but, in order to obey the dictates of honor, never to let it be known, either to him or anyone." (p. 144)

After three years of glorious deeds at war, Amador decides to "score a victory over her as his mortal enemy...." (p. 145) The use of the military metaphor alerts us to the fact that first and foremost Amador is a soldier and, true to his character, conquest is what he is really interested in, not love. Behind his willingness to destroy in order to conquer is his belief he has lost her love forever, which is the result of her decision to hide her feelings from the world. In a secret mission for the king (again the theme of secrecy), Amador devises a way of meeting with the countess of Aranda so he can see Florida. The Countess, always in Amador's corner, arranges a meeting (or tryst?) with her daughter. But Florida goes to the oratory to pray and in order that her beauty not cause feelings of lust in Amador, she bashes herself in the face with a rock and disfigures herself. Here we have one more instance of up, in this case, by destroying, which is immediately followed by her mother covering up the damage by applying bandages to her face. Then, finally alone with her, he tries to overpower her. After all of her attempts to talk him out of raping her, Florida finally calls for her mother, who responds immediately. Amador tries to lie his way out of what could be fatal consequences for him, saying he had only grabbed her hand and tried to kiss it. The countess only half believes him. And Florida, when questioned, lies and refuses to give any details, one more cover-up. After so many veils cast over the truth, the tale ends with Florida taking the veil (a cover!). Amador, off at war again, blots out his life, when trapped in battle, by plunging a sword through his body.

Amador threw his life away in pursuit of a goal he should have known was impossible to obtain. One wonders why Amador failed to see that the person he was after would never be able to respond to him sexually, a person he had known so long but never understood. He was nineteen years old when they first met; she was twelve. Ironically, it may be that she became the creature of his own making, who hearing him preach so many years about the virtues of courtly love, began to believe his lies and learned to abhor the idea of carnal desire.