After an evening of banqueting, the couple was escorted to Bertrande's marriage bed. Into their room at midnight burst the young village revellers [...] carrying their "resveil." Heavily seasoned with herbs and spices, the drink would ensure the newlyweds ardent mating and a fertile marriage.
It's a marriage that produced a very long lived story, a fecundity of sorts.
Later when one considers the comment closing a later chapter one can appreciate further the imbricated ironies:
Here one can approve the cockolding of the once impotent and now faraway husband. Here Arnaud du Tilh becomes a kind of hero, a more real Martin Guerre than the hard-hearted man with the wooden leg. The tragedy is more in his unmasking than in his imposture.
And so for day 248
19.08.2007